Jingle-Jangle's eyes widen like saucers as Zeg replies. Yous seek Lorna AND her sisters too? she asks incredulously. Oh, they are all so nasty. Jingle-Jangle hopes they don't catch you and cook you in their pots. Yous will need to go to Thither and Yon, where the sisters lives, and yous can't pass the mists without a guide. There's a scarecrow in Downfall - Clapperclaw. He knows the way to Thither.

To Faelan, she says: Hmm, what can Jingle-Jangle tell yous about Bavlorna? She lives at Downfall. The bullywugs of the Soggy Court serve her, even King Gullop the Nineteenth. She likes taxidermy - stuffing dead animals... and live ones too. She flies around on a magic lily pad. Umm... She makes mushroom moonshine... Jingle-Jangle doesn't know what else. Just don't yous make any deals with her.

And to poor Navi, she simply shrugs and unhelpfully says: You want to know where to find a unicorn horn? Um... maybe attached to a unicorn?

Jingle-Jangle smiles at Flynn's song, but makes no comment. Despite his embarrassment, Flynn can't get the song from his head. He keep chasing the words in his mind, feeling them slipping away each time he gets close, until finally he manages to catch another few lines:
  Yeah, when that wind on Motherhorn blows
  I will be coming home
  When the bell of Motherhorn rings
  I wanna hear it, don't have to fear it
He is sure there is more, but the rest of the song eludes him.

"And somethin' about Widdershins... Ah think." Faelan add about Bavlorna.

Jingle-Jangle shrugs and asks: Is that how she stirs her cauldron? and mimes an anti-clockwise stirring motion.

Then after asking if there is anything else she can do for the group, Jingle-Jangle politely invites them to be on their way. It seems that despite her generous welcome, the strange key-loving goblin prefers her solitude, and possibly may feel obligated to reciprocate beyond her means should she be required to offer any extensive hospitality...

Faelan knows when he has overstayed his welcome. "Okie Dokie Jingle-Jangle. We really appreciate ya helpin' us n' all." He turns to the others. "So, do we make our way to downfall or try to check this Queen Zybilna first?"

"Find somewhere to rest a bit an then finding the queen might be a good plan"

"Thank you for your hospitality Jingle-Jangle. You were a super duper help!" Navi chimes genuinely. She flits and flutters, very excited to have Mercion freed.

"Ouu I wonder if we will find a cool abandoned tree house, or a really pretty cave with glowing moss to bunk down for the night." The little fairy thinks out loud.

Zeg bows to Jingle Jangle. "You have been a great host and we appreciate what you have done for us, and for Mercion specifically. "

With that said he leaves the cottage.  

Speaking to the others after leaving "A place to rest may be a good idea, it has been an eventful day.  And then I think Downfall is where we go next."

(@DM what time of the day it is now?)

"Downfall it is y'all!!" Faelan takes out a carrot from his pocket, and start munching on it. He then start scouting a good place to make camp. "A pretty tree house ya said Navi? Sure thing ma'am, ah'll try mah best to find one."

Survival: 17

(Seriously, the dice roll wasn't changed. I rolled 18.)

Waving goodbye to Jingle-Jangle, the group departs the cave and back out into the twilight of the realm of Hither. Trees still throng the hilltop, although they now sway gaily as though stimulated by a strong breeze (despite the fact there is no breeze to caress them), and form a long, swaying avenue back down the hill. As the visitors pass along the wide fairway, the rustling of the leaves seems to sound like a thousand voices whispering "thanks, thank you, kindness, thanks, happiness, thank you". While the group speaks out loud of their coming plans and needs, they notice a solitary willow up ahead, standing as though planted in the center of the avenue. Its branches are low as the group draw near, partially blocking the path, but not enough to impede passage should the group wish. The whispering of the surrounding woods continues, but coalesces into a more distinct sound, not coming from any tree in particular:

Telemy Hill thanks you for cheering our goblin friend. This kindness must be returned. Please take this...

... and immediately the group notice something dangling from one of the branches, reflecting the soft light of evening. It is a small iron key. Was it there before? 

Jingle-Jangle may have dropped this unawares, or perhaps it was meant for you. No doubt it will be of use to you later on.

After the key is retrieved, the willows continue to whisper:

If you desire to rest, look for the inn at the end of the road. It passed by here not long ago.

And with that cryptic advice the willows go silent, standing motionless with no further rustling. The branches of the tree at the center of the avenue are again raised clear, although none (except perhaps Zeg) noticed the change, and indeed the avenue itself seems to have shrunk to little more than a narrow-but-still-easy-to-follow path through the thick woods. As polite as the hill has been, like Jingle-Jangle it seems to be indicating that the time to depart has come. Taking the provided path brings the group back to the swamp - a sadly less-inviting place to make camp than the relatively dry forested hill. What's more, there doesn't appear to be any sign of a road as mentioned by the willows, nor any trees of sufficient girth for a treehouse, nor any caves that aren't half submerged in swamp water. And yet the promise of an inn must be taken in good faith, and so the group continue on...

Time is difficult to measure as there is no visible sun to rise and set, and the daylight remains in perpetual orange-crimson semi-twilight, as though like an obstinate child the sun is long past its bed-time but stubbornly refuses to go. The passage of time is further confounded by the newly-liberated faerie dragon happily fluttering alongside Zeg and Navi, chattering about how wonderful it is to have wings, before swooping down to rest on the shoulder of Flynn or Faelan, claiming to tire quickly of using the unfamiliar apendages. The harengon ranger estimates that the equivalent of a half-hour of travel has passed before he spots several sets of tracks in the rare sodden patches of ground scattered throughout the murky swamp waters. One set of tracks is clearly humanoid, solitary and moving in a straight direction. Another set of tracks is much stranger; it consists of a tight group of many tiny feet of indeterminate kind, and travels in a meandering and unpredictable path through the swamp.

Which tracks will the group follow? Or will they attempt to keep both in view, or perhaps even steer clear of both?

"Ahhh.... Not really a big deal guys, but ah think we've got a little bit of a problem here." Faelan tries to point out the tracks. "Ah see a guy's track movin' straight, and a bunch of tiny ones all over da place." He looks at Mercion. "Hey doc, can you tell us more about the folks that came you ya to this place? Was there a human by any chance? Ah don't think we gonna be that lucky, but ya never know..."

Looking all over as they walk Flynn keeps muttering. "This place is just so.....strange   strange yet fascinating "

Then to Faellan.  "Well the pair would be easier to follow than the ones that go all over....and where is this road the inn is supposed to be on I wonder?"

Zeg flies over and takes a look at the tracks that Faelan has found.  "Very interesting.  But my gut tells me that an inn, if it is walking in this strange place, would have many feet. The willows did say that it passed by here recently.  I am inclined to believe the inn moves, and so must be moved by many feet.  So that is my vote, to follow the many footprints." 

Mercion stops fluttering for long enough to answer Faelan's question, although the words come tumbling out as excitedly as the flying has been: 

(I'll go purple for the faerie dragon)

Yes of course! Four of my party are human, in fact. Myself, Strongheart, Ringlerun, and Molliver. Elkhorn is a dwarf. Alas, I fear that they are all captives at the Palace of Heart's Desire, along with Zybilna - except for Molliver probably - they didn't accompany the rest of us to the Palace - I suppose they could be out here somewhere... The League of Malevolence is also mostly human - Kelek, Zargash, Skylla... Warduke is human I think. Zarak is an orc. But I'm sure there are many other humans in Prismeer. I admit I expected to see more elves in the Fey Lands...

Mercion looks askance at Zeg as the owlin starts talking about an inn with legs. Surely you're mistaken, chatters the faerie dragon. Wouldn't the trees have meant that the road passed this way not long ago? I imagine it more likely that the road comes and goes, and not the inn, which they did say was at the end of the road, so how could that be if it was travelling around?

What is Navi's preference? Follow the single solid straight tracks or the many miniscule meandering tracks?

Faelan studies the human tracks a little more closely. Tries to measure the size, the spacing, and what not. Trying to have a better idea of the size, and perhaps more details that he may have missed at first glance.

Survival: 17

The tracks in the mud are easy to see, and based on the length of stride and depth of impression in the mud, Faelan would confidently say they were human-sized, probably male, walking, not barefoot, and less than an hour old. Beyond that, the squelchy ground offers little else.

Early on while fluttering through the whispering voices, Navi waved and blurted out 'you're welcome's to the many thank yous even if she didn't understand where they were all coming from or what they did to deserve them at first. Big eyes go wide in awe when they're presented with a key. She rubs them a moment and blinks, making sure she wasn't imagining things. And if no one grabs it, the little fairy flutters up to collect the gift (key). "Thank you!" It was her turn to say it. Then off she goes to catch up with the others for the trek.

At the fork in the road, the fairy flutters in fixed confusion. Her interpretation of the tree directions were exactly on point with Zeg's. Thus when Mercion speaks up she scratches her head. So the inn didn't have legs. Huh... Now she was a little stumped. Looking back and forth between the tracks, how could they know what way lead to an inn? "One way looks like someone sure footed, the other looks like it could have been a pack of drunk people." Navi blows a raspberry. Sense of direction, don't fail her now! She kicks into a spin, eventually coming to a stop, pointing to one of the paths in a seemingly random pick.

Roll: 1
Odd: 1 person
Even: Pack

"Well, those are human tracks for sure. It's less than an hour old. Maybe we will find out who this person is?" Faelan checks the tracks ahead. Does the tiny ones diverge from the human one, or are they going about the same direction?

With Faelan and Flynn leaning toward the single-track option, Zeg and Navi favoring the meandering mass, and Mercion simply doubtful of either, the decision swings back and forth. Eventually it is determined that a group of small tracks that might actually be attached to the inn would be preferable to a single unknown traveler, and for the first time the group inexplicably take directions from their fairy companion.

The tracks aren't hard to follow through the muck and mud, and Faelan observes that every mile or so the tracks change indicating that the group paused for a short time. After a few miles of travelling, and with the tracks becoming fresher and fresher, the group soon hear the squelching of many feet through the fog. Zeg swoops ahead to get a bird-eye view and feels vindicated by what he sees! Returning to the group and encouraging them to hurry ahead, they soon catch up with the source of the tracks...

Supported on dozens of bare fleshy legs is a squat, three-story structure with a slate-shingled roof and worm-eaten wood walls. Dozens of tiny orbs of pale light buzz about the exterior like flies, illuminating a shingle dangling from over the door which reads: "The Inn at the End of the Road". The structure rocks and heaves while in motion, and the smell of hearty stew wafts from its open windows as smoke rises in cottony puffs from its stone chimney. And surely enough, about a mile from the previous place of pause, the myriad feet stop walking, the inn comes to a halt, and lowers itself into the swamp, bringing the main door within reach. 

Zeg flies a loop-de-loop as he returns to the group to let them know he has spied the inn. "Yes, the inn, its ahead, we can catch up to it and rest! Almost there now." Zeg had been feeling tired but was now reinvigorated when finding out he was right.  His confidence in himself went up as again he made the right choice.

As they caught up and the inn settled down Zeg flew to the door and settled on the threshold of the inn. He looked back at the others and waited for them to catch up before opening the door and entering.