Cloaks

Chapter 6: Distractions

The sun had been up for a few hours, but the air still had a pleasant morning chill to it as the party started on the path down the mountain. They rounded a bend in the road when Ruby stopped.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing ahead.

The group followed her gaze, but couldn't see much of note: only a bird fluttering away from them, a large plant sprouting in the middle of the path, and a rock that was covered in moss.

"The...rock?" Bardy ventured.

"No, the plant," Ruby corrected. The party looked at the plant again. It seemed like a normal plant.

"Ruby...it's a plant," Malakos explained. "In a forested mountainside. It's...not unusual to find them here."

"Not that kind of plant in this kind of area," Ruby said, picking up a stick off of the path and approaching it. Bardy, too, grabbed a stick and followed her. "It's not native to here, and it's growing in the middle of a well-worn path." She used her stick to lift the leaves and peer underneath. "Interesting," she said, almost to herself. "No root system. Only this–" the party peered over her shoulder as she gently prodded what lay under the plant. "--gelatinous substance."

Bardy followed her lead and joined in the prodding. The plant twitched, then twitched again. It squirmed and wriggled as though attempting to escape its aggressors, and then finally, the entire plant uprooted, flying into the sky and landing on Deruque's face with a loud, wet 'squelch!'

"Engarde!" Deruque cried, his vision entirely obscured by the plant...thing. He drew his sword and nearly removed one of Malakos's ears with a blind swing against his attacker.

"Watch it!" Malakos snarled, ducking the frantic slashing of the bronze dragonborn. "Deruque, it's not trying to hurt you–just put the sword away!"

"What is that thing?" Bardy asked as Ruby pried it off of the other ranger's face.

"I don't believe it," she breathed. "It's a verdure slime! They're very rare all the way out here–much more common deep within the woods of elven settlements. Always wanted to see one, but could never get a permit to access their natural environment. What brings you all the way out here, little fella?"

The slime looked up at her with big, watery eyes and made a wet, gurgling trill that was almost musical.

"Goodness, did we give you a scare?" She brushed its waxy foliage from its face. "There, there. Listen–burying yourself in footpaths isn't a great survival tactic. You're lucky we happened upon you before someone less observant–and more heavily-laden–came along. If you're going to burrow, do it off-path, okay?" She opened her arms so the slime would be able to hop away, but it didn't. It just looked up at them, interest gleaming in its eyes.

"Oh? Do you want to come with us?" She picked it up and placed it on her head. "How's that? Comfy? Okay, then, let's go!"

The rest of the party looked at each other, but nobody volunteered to argue with her; so they continued down the mountain.

"I think I'll call you 'Patch,'" Ruby said.

"Alright," Malakos said as the party reached the town gates (although 'gates' was a rather generous word for the crumbling stone wall that stood only three feet high, surrounding the town–more decorative than functional, with broken gaps big enough for even a horse to pass through). "Let's find the target."

"Duke Phillip," Bardy reiterated the description from Lady Dimir. "Ruler of Lettinsburg, to the west."

"What's he look like?" Ruby asked.

"Dunno," Bardy shrugged. "Dimir just said we'd know him when we saw him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Deruque asked.