[PF] Mal De Mar IC I

[Cardea]

Brask breathes in, sighing, and collecting himself. He addresses Tommy and Red. "Then listen well. Old names, of things, of places, of creatures, incite them. Brings their eyes to the speaker. And the older it is, the more power it has, until it can look at nicknames, at adages attributed to its person. Names like his, speak of the... old ones... can make them look our way. Its not a irrational if you have proof of it working." He undoes the button on his left sleeve, rolling it up. Halfway up his forearm, the flesh is marred and pocked, healed over and swollen in comparison to his right. No hair grows on it, and while Arthur is tan from windowed sunlight, his arm is an out of place pink. "Curses can hurt more than the intended. You need to remember this if you draw the attention of those that can bring them down upon your name. But! The sword can't be swung. But in its early years, we tested it. We placed it carefully in a vice, and pressed things against it. Wood did not cut, but flesh and meat it did just fine, like a razor. The eighth cup is for someone else. I've another meeting here later today."

Spoiler: Knowledge Arcane 15/Religion 10/Nature 10/Planes 10

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Brask's left arm has been exposed to acid several times, and healed over just as many, making the overall tissue of his arm swollen from the extensive scarring.

[Aldurin]

When Arolith sees the burns on Arthur's arm, his eyes widen a bit. "I . . . I didn't realize. I apologize for my ignorance." He takes a look over the objects again, realizing the danger they posed. "So any relic, person or concept of the past must be handled with caution, lest ancient forces of malice turn their attention to us?"

[AmberVael]

"Maybe later." Was all Asenath said in reply to Tommy's suggestions. Instead, she carefully set the sword aside and began to examine the sheath, wondering if it was the real key to the sword's unusual behavior. Of course, Asenath knew very little about magic, let alone magical items. All she could do is give the sheath a critical look and hope there was some odd sign to it that might explain things.

Mostly, she felt like she was done here. Nothing had really addressed her own questions, and she doubted anything more revealing would come up.

[Cardea]

Spoiler: Bag - Apologies to Tommy

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The bag itself is made of three layers of leather, with an interior of wool. The stitching is done expertly, and carefully, and done over and over for endurance. Its reflective, and looking it over you realize the thread itself is made of tightly wound iron thread. Inside the bag is debris from the wilds: twigs, grass, leaves. But nothing of deliberate importance. On the outside, there are three compartments, but they're all of a similar quality, and they all contain similar contents.

[SlyJohnny]

Tommy nods grimly on seeing the mayor's arm, as if confirming something he wondered at previously. He doesn't seem surprised, as if he's seen that sort of thing once or twice before.

As he roots around the bag, he abruptly raises both eyebrows, the small gesture appearing exaggerated by his normally taciturn face. It's just as unexpected as if he'd screamed aloud in shock.

"Red. You've spent more time out in the far woods then any of us. I imagine you know the foliage of each area." Tommy says, turning to to the human woman who's only a foot or so taller than he is. "Where might these have come from?" he asks, producing a couple of leaves and some bark shavings from the bag.

"Of course, we've no way of knowing when he picked up which bits. But I imagine the looser bits are more recent, whereas the stuff that's got well stuck is more likely to be from earlier in his journey."

He surrenders the bag to Red so she can more easily search it.

[Cardea]

Spoiler: Knowledge: Nature

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While you can't identify anything specific about the foliage, you realize that the contents are fresh, as if they were picked only a few minutes ago.

Spoiler: DC 20

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You are able to recognize the twigs as from the south, though not specifically what kind, as the trees from the south produce bark that is a much more vivid brown than the harsher things you may find farther north. The leaves you recognize as being from Northern Oak, which produce leaves of a shade of pale mint green.

Spoiler: Knowledge: Religion

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You don't know anything regarding this topic with this check.

Spoiler: Knowledge: Planes

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You don't know anything regarding this topic with this check.

[Farmerbink]

Fidjit looks up with a surprised expression. "Woah-" she reaches out and plucks one of the leaves from Tommy's proffered hand. "These are like- did you pluck them this morning? I've never seen leaves hold their color for more than a few hours, before..."

The expression on the young-looking girl's face raises questions about whether she'd rather hear the answer or just continue tracing the fine veins of the leaf's face. There's wonder in the small things, after all.

[AmberVael]

Asenath put the sword back in its sheath, carefully set it on the table, and then looked at the pouch herself. After all, as a hunter she'd roamed all over the local area, and would know if anything was local.

"No. They're from too far apart." She turned towards Fidjit and tapped one of the leaves she was holding, then the twigs. "I've seen these leaves in the northern forest. But the bark is from the south."

[SlyJohnny]

Tommy raises an eyebrow.

"...Fresh? How can that be?" he muses. He turns the pack over in his hands, pondering.

Finally, he removes a length of rope from his pack, ties it around his waist, and grabs a lit candle or lamp if there's one handy. He takes a couple of deep breaths, and then slips his tiny body into the mouth of the bag.

[Farmerbink]

"...Fresh? How can that be?"

Fidjit holds up the leaf, perhaps obnoxiously close to the Halfling's face. "See here, how there's still sap in the veins? That usually drains out in a matter of minutes, either when the leaf is plucked, or before it falls, actually. That's often why the leaves fall in the autumn, and-"

Her eyes widen in realization that she's more excited about the leaf than... anyone else, and curls her lips in a small, self-conscious frown. Her rosy skin almost hides the deepening red of a slight blush.

[Aldurin]

Arolith immediately turns his attention to the bag when the others express their shock at how fresh the leaves are impossibly fresh. He steps over and takes a look at the bag, trying to come up with ideas on how it functions this way.

Spoiler

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Spellcraft and Knowledge Arcana and Planes to try to understand how the bag works.
(1d20+8)[22]
(1d20+8)[11]
(1d20+8)[24]