As the survivors begin to jump into action, the tree spirit also begins to move. A deep growl comes from his chest, the light inside his chest pumping harder and flickering as he places his hands on his knees. A look of tremendous effort knots his face and he grunts purposefully as he lifts himself to his feet. Once standing, he breathes out deeply, the light inside him returning to what it was. He gives a satisfied nod that he has achieved his task... apparently just standing up. Slowly he turns back towards the trees and begins to lumber slowly towards them. "I am certain that thine fight shall end in success."<br/><br/>With their guide fully abandoning them in the face of combat, Morgan transforms and hurls herself into the process of finding an advantage. The statue's base looms over her as she begins to dig, ripping up the soil with ease. The very ground smells and feels verdant against her slimey claws and rips up easily for her, scratching down until she gets to the chest. Actually pulling it up from the ground proves difficult, the chest seeming to shift downward when first hit upon. As Morgan's body begins to return back to her normal form the dirt all around her shifts with it, the statue wobbling and crashing down across the top of her burrow. Now in a tight hole, Morgan has the small chest of weapons, but the carved back of an ancient warrior blocks all but the tiniest glimmer of sky above her.<br/><br/>Inside the chest, which thankfully is unlocked, is a small trove of weapons and oddments, an iron claw that is worn like a glove, a carved bone javelin that extends into a spear when shaken, a bit of obsidian carved in the shape of a dragon, some adventuring gear (3 uses), a copper round shield with a gem set in it to look like a dragon's eye, and a set of throwing axes.<br/><br/>As Machiko draws the power of her ancestors into her body, she also experiences her first time tapping into magical powers in this new world. As the rest, things feel similar, if subtly different. There is always in her mind a roar of power, an assurance of ancestral flame available to her. The roar seems somehow different, voices that were once loud now gone and others that she cannot recognize through the din. It comes to her still, but fiercer and wilder than it ever had.<br/><br/>The crackle of storm around Diabelle whips the air around the survivors, kicking up dust and fluttering the flames of their campfire before she brings the storm to it's focus. The arrow flies true on these chaotic winds and flies to land at the feet of the archer. He looks down at it baffled as it seems to appear out of nowhere and then lightning cracks the sky. The elf is thrown to the ground with a cry of surprise, as is the dragonborn and the dwarven captain. The elf stays down on his back, gasping at the sky as the dragonborn and the dwarf crawl away from the burned point that they stood just moments ago.<br/><br/>The other elf, the thief, sprints across the sand of the plateau, sliding on his side and lifting the archer to a semi recumbent position. He begins shouting, pointing towards the plateau that the survivors are on. The shouts, muffled by the sanctuary, are still obvious from his gestures, "Go! Take the point!" As he attempts to more fully revive his brother and the dragonborn and dwarf start to reorient themselves, there are two raiders who remain on their feet and ready.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/474x/fb/05/19/fb051978a5365a01ace8ea1c66d1609e.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/474x/8a/27/5b/8a275b61d494568eb08cecdf7c4c121f.jpg)</div>With a celebratory shout, the barbarian slaps the orc in the stomach and grabs his huge axe before sprinting towards the plateau. The orc roars to the heavens before charging after, the two of them quickly passing from being two plateaus away to being just a short natural bridge away. They turn towards the sanctuary, still obviously unclear of what is inside, and charge with weapons out. Now close enough to smell through the spell, the orc shouts out to his companion, "Fire and food. We feast!" His companion screams back wordlessly, snarling and shouting as they charge across the bridge to the sanctuary.<br/><br/>A low grumble of "They should not be here..." can be heard from the thicket, but still no movement from the tree spirit.