"Yes. There is a court of Bullywugs that are beholden to the Hag. They have a bit of an overdeveloped sense of grandeur." Talavar says with a chuckle and a sigh. "My queen does not yet know of Zybilna’s disappearance, which is why I must return post-haste. And while Zybilna certainly has allies here, they do not stand much chance against the Coven by themselves."

As you talk and walk, Speedwells ears suddenly perk up at the sound of sloshing and struggling in the mud just in front of you, though currently out of sight past the fog.

 "In Gond's name, what..." The cursing suddenly stops, though the sloshing sounds seem to become more frantic.

Autumnleaf flies up and forward to see what the commotion was. "Hello, voice from the mud and fog, it sounds as though you could use a hand out of the bog."

The sloshing pauses. Muttering can be heard, followed by "A rope would be safest for all concerned, I'd wager." The sloshing resumes, but with a little less urgency than before.

(( @All if decent hearing ))

"I am unfortunately not built for physicality, but my friends should have no trouble pulling you free." Autumnleaf says, looking back at Inif and Speedwell.

Speedwell takes his rope out, holding onto one end, and tosses the other end out to the new person in need. “Here,” the small, now mottled moss and grass green and brown Harengone Ranger says. “Grab ahold of the end and we’ll try to pull you free. Don’t struggle against the bog.”

A gloved hand reaches out out of the mist and grabs the rope, then starts to pull slowly.

Soon, a mailed arm becomes visible, and then the muddy form of a human takes shape. A man's voice calls out, "Take this -- don't let it drift away", and a long wooden staff flies in a shallow arc out of the bog. It soon becomes apparent why the man was struggling: his chain armour is caked in mud and his shield, strapped to his back, was lodged under a rotten branch. Now, with both hands now free, he dislodges the branch and continues forward.

As he struggles out of the mud, the sounds of his grumbling become clearer. "Cursed place. He didn't mention water, let alone a damned bog. Never trust a gnome." He laughs out loud -- a rich and contagious sound -- then pauses and glances up, a guilty expression on his face, "No gnomes present, I hope...I'm not at my best...rough day." He continues to struggle out of the water, eventually standing to his full height of a little over six foot.

Once on dry land, he draws a deep breath, wrinkles his nose then drops his pack and his shield, eyes his staff to make sure it is safe, then turns to his rescuers.

"Karib. Karib Faellengust at your service. Lately of Baldur's Gate." He manages a slight bow, removes his helmet revealing a bald scarred head, and removes one grimy glove revealing a similarly scarred and tanned hand, mercifully less filthy, which he holds out to shake. "Who would believe I was celebrating the new year just four days ago." He shakes his head, "1489 is a year we would all like to forget, eh?"

His green-grey eyes are intense, as they peer closely at each of his rescuers, and as the water and mud slowly drips off him it is possible to make out symbols of the Wheel on his shield an armour, and other than a dagger at his belt, no other weapons are visible. The staff which he threw out of the water seems unremarkable, and his clothes, his pack and his equipment all look well-used and well-travelled, but also well cared-for.

Speedwell eyes the newcomer curiously, then reaches out (and up) his hand to shake Karib’s. “My name is Speedwell. This horrid looking faerie is Autumnleaf, and the Gith is Inif. How did you find yourself in this bog, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Autumnleaf flutters around the new person, giving him a visual inspection as she does. "A terrible year indeed, and a pleasure to meet you, by the by. Though I don't know what Speedwell means, I am not horrid looking, no lie." She does a little bow at the introduction, then straightens in the air, head tilted and eyes wide, cheshire grin in place showing off her needle-like teeth. "I'd say that for us to have come across you was a stroke of luck. How long have you been here, and stuck in that muck?"

The wiry Githzerai watches the newcomer silently for a bit, then speaks "Greetings, I am Inif' Itum,  disciple of the Balanced Hand.  I know not the year you speak, but much is different here.  What I know is the moment is here, ahead, and behind.  And connected like a wheel.  And now we find this moment with you."

"Were you sent by Tubblestrum as well?  We have found a knight in the need of aid and are looking for allies of queen Zybilna."

Inif examines at the wheel on Karib's shield.  He utters quietly  "A wheel does ease the path of mercy."

Karib grins at the gentle banter, and nods to each in turn as they introduce themselves, but he shakes his head when they ask of his origins.

"How long have I been here? Too long!" He looks down at the mud and grime, then around and shakes his head.

"I went to a carnival, in search of..." he looks down at his hands, rubbing his fingers together, "...something I have lost." He looks up again after a moment, "It was night, and I thought I saw a town in the distance. I camped and waited, but the darkness..." again he shakes his head. "...never left, so I moved on. Then the mists came..." His face clouds with anger and becomes a darker shade of red, highlighting numerous scars, small, large and everything in between. He draws a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly, then visibly relaxes. "Before that...a carnival gnome sent me here, through a mirror. Said what I seek is here. So far -- were it not for you three -- all I would have found is death." Again he looks around, trying to get a sense of the place.

Quote from Faux_Beau >>

"A wheel does ease the path of mercy."

Inif's words draw him back and he smiles, "We are all just cogs in the Great Machine, eh? Though at the moment this cog is not feeling very merciful." He says it with a grin rather than malice. "I thank you all for the timely rescue. And you...are you...from this place? Can you explain it to me?"

He picks up his staff, then gathers and checks his other gear, trying to clean it as best he can.

"And I am Sir. Talavar." comes a small voice from the birdcage in Inif's hands. "It is good to meet another acquaintance. I cannot shake our hand at the moment though, and for that I apologize." He then gives a small nod of his head and continues listening.

Karib does a double-take and grins, "This is indeed a place of many wonders!"

He inclines his head to the diminutive dragon, "How is it that you come to be in a cage, Sir Dragon?" He looks first at the dragon, then glances around his rescuers, before his eyes settle on the cage, examining it with a professional eye.

"Ah this..." Talavar replies with a sigh as he flicks the cage with his small claw, "As I had been explaining to these three, I was sent here to look for Zybilna, the queen of Prismeer where you find yourself, but quickly discovered that it had been taken over by Hag sisters. As I was attempting to get out Bavlorna caught me and put me in here. We were on our way to the Hill to find someone who may have the key."

Looking at the cage you can also tell that is is quite well made and seemingly secure.

Karib considers the tools in his pack for a moment, then speaks in a higher-pitched, perhaps gnome-like voice, "There isn't a finely crafted mechanism that young Karib can't damage or destroy." He grins, then returns to speaking in his normal voice, "Perhaps I should put my skills to the test when we next get a chance to rest?"

His things are as ready as he can make them, he stands ready to proceed, hoping to be filled in on the nature of this strange place as they travel.

As the party talks, they continue walking towards the east, now with a new companion, still shrugging off the mud. Even though the going is slow through the swamp, in less than an hour the mists begin to clear a bit. You are greeted by the scent of sweet-smelling fruit. Damp, downy, silvery-green moss blankets a gentle upward slope before giving way to a craggy ridge that marks the top of the hill. Dozens of enormous willow trees dot the hillside, swaying as though in a breeze despite the absence of one.

Approaching the hill four of the trees suddenly pull up their roots and slowly move towards where the party is headed. Stopping in front of you, as if blocking your path, you hear low rumbling voices from the trees say, "Welcome to Telemy Hill. What brings you here? And for how long do you intend to stay?"

Karib waits, hoping for the others to speak. He looks a little uncomfortable.

Inif steps forward and offers a greeting in Sylvan and bows.

 "Hello, we are looking for Jingle Jangle.  We are in need of some assistance getting our friend Sir Talavar out of the cage here, you see."  Inif lifts the birdcage with the entrapped faerie dragon knight.  "We intend to say long enough to get Jingle Jangle's help, as there's the urgent matter of breaking queen Zybilna’s enchantment."

Autumnleaf looks at Inif for a moment, then shrugs and nods along with his words, fluttering a little higher from where she is behind Speedwell.