Skip ahead.

The party travels for almost another hour. It feels longer than that, due to the constant complaining by Snicklet about how slow you all are, and by Pascal threatening to eat the fey creature if it doesn't shut up.

Eventually, you come across a hidden dell, where the trees grow thick and the mist clings to the hillside. At the center of the dell is a cottage shaped like giant toadstool with a tall and tapering cap. Windows pierce the cap at uneven levels, hinting at multiple stories inside, and there’s a door in the thick stalk. Everything is damp and wet from the fog.

Snicklet leads you to the front door, and encourages you to step inside. ("Taking too long, looking around. Caution is stupid, hurry hurry hurry get in.")

Quillary (with her high Perception) notices that the roof, which looked to be brown and lumpy, is actually caked with dried mud splattered on it. It’s flaking off in a few places. (it is possible to see underneath, if larger pieces of mud are picked off.)

Is this a humanoid-sized mushroom house, or a Snicklet-sized mushroom house?

Mix of both.

The center "stalk" is large and has a humanoid-sized door. The house is also built into the hillside, so you can't tell how deep it goes. The uneven windows in the cap ("hinting at multiple stories inside") are smaller, and suggest small or tiny occupants on those stories.

With a roll of her eyes, Quillary will enter the mushroom through the large door.

"Thank you, Snacklet, you were a competent, even if pushy, guide."

Jorin will follow Quillary in.

The inside of the cottage is small and cramped. Trinkets and baubles are everywhere. They fill nooks in the wall, cover tables, and hang from the ceiling. Some are bizarre; others are downright creepy. On the far side of the room is a (humanoid-sized) faerie who’s peering into a cauldron let by green flames below. You can’t tell too much about her, as she’s dressed in rags that cover every part of her body. Over her head, she wears a burlap sack on which there’s a drawn face of a hag (but like a kid's drawing on a paper sack). Long wavy hair in pink cotton-candy color escapes from the bottom of the sack and covers one shoulder.

"Welcome to my house. I am hoping we can help each other." The voice is a bit raspy, but your realize the lady's voice is like a mellow lounge singer (or Kathleen Turner voicing Jessica Rabbit), trying to sound harsh and like a man.

Quillary is caught up by all the stuff, her eyes flitting from one curio to another, lingering on some of the more disturbing bits. She ignores the faerie's comment. Her spores pulse a little and she runs one hand along the inside of the mushroom.

Hildigrim quickly glances about (perception at disadvantage: 10; any books, specifically?) before staring curiously at the hand-drawn hag's face. "Er ... hello. You are ... Hyll was it? You wouldn't happen to be known by any other names, would you?"

Quote from Mingofaust >>

Her spores pulse a little and she runs one hand along the inside of the mushroom.

Quillary notices that mud and offal has been thrown on the walls, but it flakes off easier than expected (like the walls have a non-stick coating). Underneath is a bright, cheery polka dot pattern.

Quote from DirtyDogP >>

Hildigrim quickly glances about (perception at disadvantage: 10; any books, specifically?) before staring curiously at the hand-drawn hag's face. "Er ... hello. You are ... Hyll was it? You wouldn't happen to be known by any other names, would you?"

Hildigrim is a guest, so he wouldn't need to conceal his curiosity about the inside of the home. (No disadvantage, or at least, he can use the passive skill value.) There are no books, which is surprising, as there are some complex-to-craft arcane materials on the shelves.

She has given up trying to sound gruff, and her voice is almost musical. "I have no other names now, beyond the one I have chosen. Hyll is the only name befitting someone with my appearance, and my condition."

For Quillary only:

"Your friend, Snacklet, said you wished to speak with us and so you speak of helping each other.  What aid would we render to each other?" Jorin says before noticing the bizarre spackle job, "and, uh, why are your walls covered in mud?" He adds as he flakes a piece off.

Is there any particularly shiney, or martial looking, bauble in the room?

Pascal raises a hand, “Also, mademoiselle, why do you have a bag on your head?”

Quote from Guiltysparc >>

"Your friend, Snacklet, said you wished to speak with us and so you speak of helping each other.  What aid would we render to each other?" Jorin says before noticing the bizarre spackle job, "and, uh, why are your walls covered in mud?" He adds as he flakes a piece off.

Is there any particularly shiney, or martial looking, bauble in the room?

(OoC: I'm not sure what you mean by martial looking baubles.)

Jorin does notice objects around the room that are not arcane in origin: bird feathers, out-of-season flowers, shiny knick-knacks and baubles, etc.

"The quickling's name is Snicklet, not Snacklet." It appears. "Whut?" "I didn't call for you. Go back upstairs and continue playing with your friends." Snicklet is gone again, in a blink of an eye.

"The walls are covered with mud and dung to try to restore the house to its original beauty. But it doesn't work. The bright colors and floral scent keep coming back."

Quote from JcAndD >>

Pascal raises a hand, “Also, mademoiselle, why do you have a bag on your head?”

"I must leave the sack on! My visage is too horrible for you to withstand!” Pascal can see (through the holes in the sack) the trembling in her luminous green eyes. Despite being not-LizardFolk, he still appreciates the symmetry and perfect proportions of those eyes.

Quillary turns to look at the bag lady. "There is beauty in many things, but always it changes. One day that which is beautiful is not anymore, and that which was not is beauty incarnate. This is the way of nature, and of... creatures. Of people. Even of the everlasting elves. Your house is one thing and another. I suspect under there, you are, too." She pulls on a lock of her hair, dislodging a dry leaf that floats to the ground.

Pascal shrugs, “Besides, I’m sure you can’t be that ugly. I mean, I ain’t exactly winning any beauty pageants myself.,  ‘cording to soft skins anyway, I think I’m quite dashin.’ Anyway, your eyes look plenty lovely to me, mademoiselle.”

"Please excuse us," Hildigrim says, smiling. "Your mask has piqued our natural curiosities. I hope you won't think us rude. Let us get on to the task at hand. As my large human friend said, we were brought here to have a dialog. We are in the middle of an important task: We're trying to reach the well at the center of the wood."

"Even your kindness and pity horrifies me." (Despite the anger and revulsion in what she is saying, it still sounds adorable she says it with her willowy voice.) "I mean, look at this hair. Just the other day, I soaked it in acid, rubbed it in filth, and tied it in knots. And look at it now! You would think that I washed and combed and styled it. Disgusting!

"That's why I had Snicklet bring you here. I need protection from the world, until I can get this condition fixed. These woods might be dreary enough to be acceptable, but only if the druid allows it. I need help. The druid of Tarthwood, Llyneth, needs help. You need help to help her. If you promise to help me with her, then I'll help you help her, which will help me."

Quillary will come to sniff at the cauldron. “Much is wrong in these woods,” she notes. “Many have asked us to help, and now it seems I will be needing this Druid’s help, as well. What would you have us do?”

OoC - I guess the phrase "martial bauble" us a bit nonsensical.  To Jorin's eyes, anything that could be heavy or sharp enough to inflict damage would be martial.  You could bludgeon someone with a crystal ball or stab with a letter opener, that kind of thing.

(There would be things like frying pans and herb sickles and pointy sticks, but you would find better improvised weapons back in Amphail.)

To Qillary: "The great druid needs rescuing. And what the Black Bloods are doing is dangerous to beings of the Fey like myself. I can't confront them, but I could give aid for your task, if you promise to champion my request for sanctuary to Llyneth when she is safe. Solemnly swear that you’ll advocate for me, and do all in your power to convince the great druid to let me stay in the Tarthwood."