Seraphine listens intently to Gruup’s suggestions, and a spark of hope flickers in her eyes. Riding squirrels or convincing birds to help... it sounds far-fetched, but it could work, she thinks. With a respectful nod, she addresses the frog, "Thank you, Gruup. Your wisdom is a blessing, and we’re grateful for your help." She recalls Wisp mentioning the quail that lives near the pond, her mind turning over their options. "Wisp spoke of a quail nearby. Perhaps we could convince it to transport us closer to the bee hive. But I’m not sure we’re ready to confront the bees yet. We may need more information first."

Seraphine looks thoughtful, glancing southward. "The moth, south of here, might have some insight. Being an insect, it could have encountered the bees and their habits. We may learn more by speaking with it before we make any hasty decisions." She turns back to Gruup, her gaze steady. "What do you think, Gruup? Should we seek the quail now, or should we gather more knowledge from the moth? Any guidance you have could help us decide. And if any of you," she adds, glancing at her companions, "have concerns or suggestions, we should consider them too."

Gruup considers, "Both are wise, certainly wiser than this silly old pond croaker. The quail is shy, though, and you may need to prove your mettle in the weeds by fighting many insects before she'll grace you with her presence. The moth is shy, too, but in another way, she hides in plain sight, you just need to spot her. I'm sure either one could tell you lots more what you need to know."

"I'd say we look for the moth first and then find the quail."

"Gruup, if I had another song ready, I'd most certainly sing it. Your aid has been kind, but I believe we're off to the next part of this adventure!" Finn reaches out to shake the toad's hand and realizes that's not going to work, so he gives a slight bow in respect.

Finn looks at the group and tightens the straps on his bag, "Seraphine, would you like to lead the way? I believe we're off to see the moth."

Seraphine inclines her head respectfully to Gruup. "Thank you again, Gruup. Your advice has given us much to consider, and I hope we’ll repay your kindness by succeeding in this."

She turns to her companions, nodding as Finn tightens his bag straps. "Let’s head south to find the moth, then. With any luck, it can tell us more about the bees and their hive."

With that, Seraphine takes the lead, carefully picking her way along the path, her senses sharp and her thoughts focused on the next step in their unusual quest. She moves cautiously but with purpose, eager to uncover the knowledge they need to move forward. (Survival: 23 + 1 (Guidance), this was a natural 20)

(I'm not sure anymore where to find the moth. I think it was south of us but I don't remember where was the map for the garden. Could we have it in the notes on the campaign page?)

Quote from T0dd0 >>

 (Trying to bump this to the most recent page)

"My sense of smell is nothing like my sister's used to be, but I'm drawn towards the herbs over there." Finn points south, "The moth picked a good place to hang out." 

Following Seraphine-- a little less cautiously-- he makes a game of leaping into where her light footprints leave impressions, attempting to land in every other step. He stays about 5 to 10 feet back, occasionally checking over his shoulder, but otherwise following her blindly.

Gruup the frog gives them a farewell series of trills, chirps, and musical gulps, and happily hops away. Soon he is lost in the high foliage at the pond's edge.

Seraphine cautiously leads the group south, away from the pond, in the direction of those exotic scents on the wind that Finn is detecting. A strange forest looms ahead in the distance, a treeline but not of trees. Strangely shaped plants with a variety of leaves and colors, some straight, some twisting and creeping, of all shapes and sizes, form the herb patch. As the party approaches, you all hear a new sound floating on the wind. Whistling? Someone is whistling a merry tune. It is faint at first, but it grows stronger, clearly indicating that some cheery fellow is approaching you, though you cannot yet see them.

Soon enough, the whistling noise is upon you, and in your midst. But still the source is hidden from your view. Then, with a chuckle, the whistling ends and a man appears among you. A full head taller than you, he has curly red hair, freckles, greet velvet pants and jacket, green vest, glinting golden buttons and gold chain, golden rings on his fingers glinting with precious gems, a ready grin, cheery disposition, and happy glint in his eye.

"Upon my soul, but here be more little people, and littler than me! Wee folk, what be your names and your aims? As for me, I'm Connor, and adventure is my aim!"

[ Just to let you know, this encounter is only available when you crit on the survival check for moving between zones! ]

(Nice crit Seraphine!!)

The gems and gold catch Finn's attention, he's only seen such finery from a distance. But he is not entranced, his hackles raise because he mistrusts the man. Those he had previously known to be adorned were bettors for the gladiator arena he grew up in– quite the untrustworthy crowd.

In a cautious tone, "Halt. I've heard honeyed words like yours before, what's your title? What station do you hold? We're adventurers too, but you don't see us dressed as well as you." Finn keeps his claws under the surface, for now, trying to stay open to what this stranger has to offer.

Seraphine's eyes widen as the red-haired man seemingly materializes in their midst, his vibrant green attire and glinting gold a stark contrast against the earthy tones of the garden. She instinctively tightens her grip on her weapon, studying him with wary caution. 'Such finery here, in the middle of a wild herb patch? And that confident, easy grin—what is he hiding?' Her gaze sharpens as he introduces himself as Connor and casually mentions more little people. The words stir a flicker of hope, and she finds herself wondering if he might know something of the adventurers they’re searching for. 'Could he have seen them?' she ponders, 'and could he even know of the ones carried off by the bees?' The questions swirl in her mind, pressing on her, but something more urgent takes their place.

Her thoughts center on the very mystery that has plagued her since they’d first shrunk: 'What happened to us? And, more importantly, how can we reverse it?' Keeping her gaze locked on Connor, Seraphine draws in a steadying breath, weighing her words carefully. "Connor," she says, her tone both cautious and resolute, "we’re adventurers, like you, and we’re trapped in this shrunken form by magic. Do you know what happened to us—and how we might regain our true size?" The question hangs in the air, her voice carrying a mixture of guarded hope and urgency as she waits for a sign, any hint, that he might hold the answers she, well, they all need.

Connor pulls a fine pair of gold-rimmed spectacles from a waistcoat pocket and holds them up to his eyes and makes quite a show of inspecting the lot of you while looking through them. Then he chuckles as he stows the spectacles and says, "I see it, plain as day. Ye've shrunk down from your natural size, on account of the landowner. He's got a spell on the lot of you. Now the good news is that I've never known a spell that couldn't be undone some way. But I ask ye, why the long faces? Why, you're about as big as I am, and I find it to be a fine size. T'is a grand world out there, be ye big or small."

Seraphine watches Connor’s exaggerated display, a flicker of amusement tempered by her focus on the answers she seeks. When he remarks on their size with such casual indifference, she takes a steady breath, choosing her words carefully. “With all due respect, Connor,” she begins, her tone respectful but firm, “and not wishing to diminish the value or importance of your natural size, you would agree that it’s... unsettling to be reduced to the height of one’s own thumb. That’s what’s happened to us. We are, in truth, adventurers accustomed to a different scale.”

She glances at her companions, her gaze resolute. “We each feel most comfortable in our native form. And while I respect your perspective, returning to our true size is of great importance to us.” Her voice is calm but determined, her words carefully balancing their need for his help with an understanding of his own way of life.

Connor nods at this and says, "Aye, your words make sense. I'm only saying you should grin a bit more. Look on the bright side, an' all that. Your worry lines and frowns have got me heart pumping in sympathy. Makes it hard to carry on my cheerful whistling! Why, I've the perfect idea. Who wants to dance a jig? Let's see who's got the quickest footwork. That'll cheer us all right up!"

Out comes a fiddle from under his coat, and you're not quite sure how it could have been secured there, but he's already got it to his chin and starting to tune it.

Seraphine inclines her head at Connor’s nod, but her thoughts remain guarded. 'What is he really after?' she wonders, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Everything about this encounter is unusual, from his effortless appearance in their midst to his carefree attitude. Still, he doesn’t seem inclined toward violence, and after the encounter with Gruup, she finds herself wondering if they’d do well to indulge him a little. 'Perhaps playing along could bring us closer to understanding him—and, maybe, to gaining his favor.'

Her gaze flicks to her companions, landing on Finn. If Connor truly has powers, he could be a valuable ally, or at least a source of knowledge about this strange place. Besides, he seems too at ease in a world of bees and owls to be anything but skilled in his own right. With a resolute exhale, she reaches out to Finn, nudging him with a playful grin that almost feels foreign on her face. “Alright, let’s give him a show, shall we?”

Grabbing Finn’s hand, she pulls him along, her forced smile slowly growing more genuine as she steps into the rhythm. As Connor’s fiddle plays its merry tune, she lets herself fall into the music, a little laughter slipping through as they twirl. (Performance: 7, incl. 2 from guidance)

Without much practice, Finn is surprisingly light on his feet and falls into step with Seraphine. It's a bit clunky as he tries his best to avoid stepping on her toes, but with her laughter he finds himself cracking a smile too that quickly grows into a large toothy grin. (Performance: 11)

He never knew the bettors to have fun that wasn't at the expense of others, so his air of mistrust begins to drop. Finn begins to embrace one of the few good things that have happened to their group since they were shrunk. For a moment, he forgets to care about their size. 

After their dance, Finn takes a step back and performs a low bow to Seraphine. "That was a blast, I didn't know you had it in you." Seeing under her hard exterior and giving into being less serious for once, his mouth tugs into a smirk.

So I'm seeing a 7 and an 11 for the performance checks, great.

Connor arches an eyebrow as he side-eyes your dancing while playing the fiddle. He wraps up the song and your capering comes to and end. He politely says, with a little cough, "Well, at least you tried. I suppose that's what counts."

Suddenly stowing the fiddle under his coat tails, where it seems to vanish, he digs in his pockets and mutters to himself, "Clearly you need some help... Let's see here... ah, these should do the trick!"

He quickly flicks a small glinting golden object at each of you, which you each catch. Each of you has caught a golden coin. On one face is depicted a four-leaf clover, and on the other side is an image of Connor's smiling face, winking at you.

Connor explains, "These are me own magic coins. Just flip 'em in the air and give a wish, and they'll cast a spell. Nothing too powerful, mind you, but should turn out useful. And if it happens that your wish is to return back to normal size, why, I reckon there's enough magic there to accomplish it.... IF you've fulfilled your destiny. I reckon you were brought here by fate or some other reason, and you've some task to do here. Doin' it will power up the coins enough to fulfill that wish."

Seraphine feels a bit of warmth rise to her cheeks, a rare show of shyness, as she catches her breath after the dance. She’s grateful Finn had joined her, making the experience feel a little less awkward and even bringing out a smile from her hardened demeanor. She watches Connor with cautious interest as he stashes away his fiddle and then tosses a glinting coin her way. She catches it deftly, her fingers closing around the cold metal, and takes a moment to absorb what he’s told them. 'A wish, tied to destiny.' The coin feels unexpectedly heavy in her hand as she considers its meaning. This small golden object seems to offer a way out, a solution to the shrinking curse that had plagued them since the start. She hadn’t dared to hope for something so tangible—a possible end to their predicament. But then comes the lingering question: 'What is this destiny we’re meant to fulfill?' Her mind races. 'Is it to rescue the other adventurers? If so, would they need coins of their own to escape, or could one wish free all of them?' 

Pulling herself from her thoughts, she looks up at Connor, her gratitude and curiosity genuine. “Thank you, Connor. These coins… they’re more valuable than you may know. We’re truly grateful for this help.” Pausing, she adds thoughtfully, “We’re on our way to rescue others who seem to have shared our fate. They may have been captured by the bees here. Can you tell us anything about the bees in this garden?” Her gaze sharpens with concern. “I fear they may have taken another group, perhaps one like ours, to their hive. And when we saw one of them, they seemed to be quite unnatural with a strange violet light in their eyes. Or do you know anything about the lingering magic that empowers some of the other creatures here?”