As you travel, you notice the undergrowth in this area begins to align. The vines and roots and ferns and saplings all following the same direction of growth in parallel with each other. The surface roots of the forest, thick and old, run parallel with each other. Plants bend, following the same invisible flow. Moss and lichen preferring the same side of the rocks and bark as far as you can see. The synchronous movement began so subtly and now dominates the landscape.
You take in your surroundings and find that this growth converges, bending along a slight curve. Following the direction of the movement leads you shortly to an overgrown wall consisting entirely of vines and bushes, all flowering brilliantly with dense, bright green foliage. It is clear that the alignment of the forest is radiating around whatever is inside of this cylinder, like spokes on a wheel.
By forcing some of the plants apart, ducking through gaps in their connections, and cutting away the blocking tangle, you are able to enter into the center. Before you is a barren clearing, twenty feet across, in which no plants dare tread. In the middle is a stone plinth, a bare rectangle of marble four feet tall. Floating above the block is an open book, which bobs up and down rhythmically. The cover is a dark, polished leather, looking as if it was fresh from binding. The corners of the cover are capped with gold tips. The pages are a cream color, showing no signs of age or wear, and the edges are gilded. Symbols are etched in the book, not immediately recognizable.
What do you do?
- Take the book. It requires study and cataloging which cannot be done here.
- Read the book. Perhaps knowledge can be gained without disturbing the artifact.
- Leave. The life in the forest ceases around this book, perhaps that is a sign.
