[TCS] A New Leaf - Printable Version

ARTIO

THE PLANT MASTER

It was strange how much the twisted roots of the Divine resembled writhing bodies. Screaming bodies. Even Artio wasn't sure quite what that meant--if the magic that had trapped her here had trapped others at her feet, or if mind and will had shaped form after them.

She swept slowly around the great tree. One hand trailed gently across the gnarled bark, and Artio tilted her head back to gaze up into the claw-like branches. The very shape of the tree looked tormented. Pained.

She hummed in thought, and then shook her head in disapproval, violet wisteria-like hair rustling at her shoulders. "We shall undo what's been done to you," she assured the tree.

Palms pressed to the great trunk, and she forced threads of her power through the tree: vast and hurtling surges of the power of a woken Master. But perhaps Artio had slept for far too long; or maybe whatever curse had done this was not so simple to undo. Though she strained, and cried out with her efforts, the tree remained just that: a tree.

A huge, dark and twisted tree but only a tree, nonetheless, one partially eaten away by insects, rot and time. Artio cried out in frustration, and stepped back. She forced the frustration in her face to smooth back into her placid nobility, and took a deep breath, folding her fingers together.

"I suppose, then... it's time to see if these Gembounds are as useful as my beloved claims."

Moments later, a signal went up: a great flare of glowing green light, one that encapsulated the towering height of the Divine and illuminated Cetus's fog for hundreds of meters in every direction. It was a call for a gathering: a sign for others to come.

Then Artio waited, to see who would heed her summons.

This thread is part of The Cave Stories event series!

As described in previous news posts and announcements, this is a low-stakes group of quests that will potentially unlock new spells, techniques, and/or tactics. Each active Group has had a quest designed around their home cave, but all characters are welcome to join these quests at any time (unless otherwise stated at the bottom of a GM post).

Subsequent quests will generally be posted up as current ones near their midway points or their ends, so there won't be pressure to dip your toes into every single one at the same time.

So, Niamh was carrying this newly-hatched rabbit she'd found and was plodding through Cetus with him when she heard a strange cry.

One too-big ear flickered back and forth, and she spun around towards its direction. "Did you hear that?" she asked Bramble (who would probably drown in mud, if she put him down), though she barely got the words out as a green flare erupted into the sky, shining through the mist.

It was only a beat later that the faun made a decision. "Let's go check it out!" and she was holding the hare to the silken shawl around her chest and skipping towards where it had come from. Though it wasn't terribly far, it was a trek and a half for what was essentially a toddler holding an even smaller toddler.

When she was close enough, she saw two trees, side-by-side. One was directly underneath the flare, twisted in a way that made Niamh inexplicably uncomfortable, and the other... "that's a lady!" she whispered scandalously to the hare. It was a lady that reminded her, distantly, of the tree in Cepheus. This had to be investigated-- nevermind the strange light for now.

"Hi, lady," Niamh rambled as she got closer to the Master. "You're very pretty-- I like your clothes! Your hair is nice, too!"

Oh, how could anybody not hear that infernal racket? Bramble, tummy full of roots he'd instinctively dug up under Niamh's watchful gaze, had been sleeping so contentedly when the aforementioned faun's chest rumbled.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, and he tiredly lamented in the brattiest voice imaginable, "Yes!"

His paws had just barely come up to press satellite dish ears flat to his head when he was pressed against shawl, held tightly so he wouldn't fall into the marsh and definitely drown. Even he knew he was just a little guy, and thought better of doing anything that might increase his chances of being dropped. Best not to die in his first few hours of what was already shaping up to be a long, apparently painful existence.

The bobbing of his body was superseded by stillness, and at last Bramble dared to twist around. Eyes widened; not because of one of the trees being a lady, as the enthralled whispering in his ears said, but because of just how tall she was. To Bramble, she may as well have been a giant. One that they perhaps should not approach, but— oh, Caves, they were approaching.

Fiery eyes flicked up and down the strange new person's form, skimming over the face and fixing more on the fact that she seemed quite firmly rooted to the ground—not unlike the tree of nightmarish wailing behind her. The green was a nice contrast against the backdrop of the whole scene, a wonderful stand-out piece. Hopefully a stationary one, too, in case his very bold question brought on a terrible reaction and his carrier needed to run away as quickly as possible.

Just imagine seeing a hare being carried like somebody's purse chihuahua, looking at you dead on the eye (but with only once, since he's very clearly a prey animal) and asking in childish incredulity: "Was that you yelling?"

And as a follow-up: "... why?"

Serek remembered the Divine. Of course he'd remember her- but what was there to do? Are you going to water a tree that already sits in a swamp? He'd bury some food at rare, rare times, when he was in the area and when he had spare food anyways, but that was like giving a grain of rice to a lion. Years is a long time to grieve over a still living tree. He'd like to think he was over it.

But when the signal cut through the mists and into his fogged mind, his first thought still turned to her.

Spindly legs carried themselves to importance for the first time in years, bringing Serek to the tree nearly out of breath as his hooves and paws cut through the mud. Thoughtless adrenaline seized his mind- was the Divine in trouble again? The hybrid's fur stood up stiff as he skidded to a stop, planting himself down in the dirt as his tongue lolled out.

Who was that?

Swallowing and standing up straighter, Serek appraised Artio before turning his eyes to the Divine, almost as if silently asking the tree if he should know who this was. She didn't seem to be harming the tree in any way- and she seemed to be being accosted by a... smaller tree person, holding a rabbit? The wide-eyed look of concern that had plastered itself onto Serek's face wiped away to a solid stern gaze. Were they related in some way? Had they come to free her and her kind?

Warily stepping closer to the Divine while watching Artio and Niamh, Serek managed to mumble out a small "What's going on?" His head tilted towards the tree- while he didn't expect a response really, it was more natural to talk to her than the complete strangers before him.

ARTIO

THE PLANT MASTER

Artio waited, every little step and gesture one of authority and grace.

She studied those who came, puzzled by their shapes. It was not an insult to them that she found them, for the most part, confusing: she knew that their designs were not deliberate. Niamh, at least, reminded her strongly of her own element, and she at once considered offering this one a part of her work, once it had resumed. "You look like one of mine," she murmured, old memories twisting through her mind like vines, strong with the scent of flowers. But the rest-? Bramble was small, a prey item and little more, by the looks of things? Serek was... strange, an amalgamation that might have been a creature of aeons past were it not for his relatively small size and spindly limbs. Dragon was too slow, too low-slung to be of use; Imp too small, though perhaps they could find uses for him once Farina had followed through on her bargain. His 'fuck Nemean' earned him a tip of Artio's head, acknowledging, and then a little murmur of agreement as she realized he truly was blind.

There were some who were missing. Fahl she looked for, and did not see; likewise Adenium. One she'd met, one she hadn't but she'd expected to see them here.

Hm. Disappointing.

She looked to those present, fixing glowing eyes first on Bramble, puzzled. He asked if she'd been yelling, though she'd made no noise: certainly he hadn't heard her light through the trees. "No," she answered, both placid and imperious, very much a queen who needn't shout to make her words known. "If you heard something, that was not me. But I did summon for aid, with that," and she lifted a delicate hand, tapping nails to the air to point to the spotlight high above. "It is time to see if you 'Gembound' are as useful as my Farina claims you to be. I ask you to hear me out, and to decide if you can help me."

Artio turned and gestured to the Divine, her dress of foliage rustling softly as she parted her arms as if to embrace the great tree. "Her gnarled branches were not always like this," she began, quiet.

"I am Master Artio, and I was tasked with the plants of these caves. Long ago, this great tree was my servant, my handmaiden, chief among those who tended this place. Part of Cetus was a beautiful forest, once. Nemean-... She and her games," Artio snarled, hands clenching into branch-like fists. "I will have her head for what she's done. She laid a curse on my servants. I do not know how, or why--I task you with finding out, and with reversing it, if you can. I do not know if it can be done and she will not allow herself to be caught by me but you-? She won't be expecting it from your kind."

"She cursed them to become what they tended: branch and bark, their minds and souls locked away into trees. And when I came to try to mend what she had done, I found out that it had been a trap, a trap intended for me. They were nothing but bait, to her," and Artio's regal face was rigid with controlled rage. Her head tipped high, her back straight, and she folded her hands before her. She was a monarch, standing tall. She was about to deliver a death sentence. 'Off with her head.'

"I do not even know how she killed me. I remember falling and that is all," Artio continued, turning to face the Gembounds in a sweep of ivy and honeysuckle air. "And my stone, in turn, was only bait for my--for Farina. To lure her up into the Eyes, where Nemean had laid a trap--and to keep her there, stuck, boiling alive for millennia." Artio's eyes narrowed. "Either Nemean was always a traitor... or she had a terrible idea of a longstanding joke about 'boiled crab.' Either one is worth her death."

Fingers braced against one another. Artio stood up straight. "I want my people mended. And I want Nemean killed. I will take the former over the latter if I must choose," but her tone showed her reluctance: she wanted both.

"I task those of you who are willing--and whomever you can gather to help--with finding Nemean. With finding out what she did to my people, and how to undo it. Do not come back here without her, or without a solution." A tremor ran through her leaves. This command would save their lives. "She is... particularly fond of the Carnival, if that still exists. It may be worth trying to capture her there. It is not guarded as is the Palace, and she tends to let down her guard."

Artio paused, eyes hooded with old memories, old angers. But she drew herself up, taking a breath and smoothing down her robe of leaves. "Now... Have you any questions?" she asked.

Questions. What Artio had laid at the Gembounds' feet should have been enough to yield plenty. Which aspect of her speech drew the most curiosity or confusion was yet to be known. But it was during the conclusion of this massive outpouring of the suffering both Masters, crab and tree person, as well as servants had been put through that the most basic of ones came rasping out of the throat of a latecomer to the gathering beneath the Divine's wretched form.

"Yes," Fahl said as he finally slunk his way near, "Carn... carnival? What, where would that be?"

Though the iguana had arrived past the expected time, he did not do so fashionably. Cetus had made certain of that, the swampland just as aggravating to navigate in this instance as it had been in others. Mud had been his opponent the entire way to the vast and unmistakable signal that'd cast green light through the fog, a slog dragging down steps and trailing tail fins alike as he had pressed onward to a location deep within the cave. His scales reflected this, dulled brown and spotted orange by filth and fatigue.

"Pardon my, uh, small absence." Imp and Dragon the only ones familiar to him, Artio only almost so due to Farina's flattering description of her, it came as no surprise that Fahl gravitated toward them like a moth would to a flame. He settled on his haunches next to his teacher with a muttered "hey," then bent his tail into his forepaws' grasp so that clumps of dirt could be picked loose from the voluminous folds of his fins. "There was a slight... delay. Advertising for help."

ARTIO

THE PLANT MASTER

Fahl's arrival was greeted with a pause, a murmur from the plant Master:

"You must be Fahl. Welcome," and she offered him a light nod.

Farina had told her to expect him, after all; and her eyes slid across his form. She recognized her partner's touch in his detailing, in the fins that graced his form.

She nodded again, this time in faint approval, and turned her attention to the others as she answered his question. A fair one, after all; they'd need to find the Carnival in order to attend it.

"You will find the Carnival in the tunnel that leads between Cepheus--that is, the room with the palace," (did they know?) "and Pegasus, the Endless Mile--the room of rolling meadows."

Artio paused and considered, raising her bark-clad hands to steeple thoughtful fingers. "Be wary in how you approach Nemean. She is slippery, and it may be better to approach her with tricks and flattery rather than trying to capture her outright. But-... I leave it to you to decide. Do you have any questions?" she finished, quiet.