17

Gal d20: 6  

Rolls, just because! 2

((Sorry to ask for rolls, then take so long to resolve them! I blame M0rt for giving me a 3rd when I asked for 2. :P Need to get some stuff done for school today, but will get something posted later.))

((Ugh, sorry I teased an update then didn't post... It's been one unexpected thing after another, but glad they didn't come all at once. No exploding noses this time, but the frame was rusted out to an unsafe degree in our truck, so a lot of my screentime the last few weeks has been spent combing through used vehicle sites. A poor excuse for leaving you all dangling on the results of some rolls, but there it is. Anyway, I'll post a bit here, and let you chew that over, with the intent to post more tomorrow. We've a few vehicles we're interested in and going to check out later this week.))

Your boat continues onward, uneventfully, and Stena spots an island with some harvestable fungal growth. Neth is able to swim its perimeter and scout it out, and the boat is able to be safely tied off to a nearby rock, the gentle current keeping the rope taut, with no chance of it bumping against the spire and getting further damaged. Jimjar is in a positive mood as usual, and has taken to chatting with FOG, hoping to help the old fellow regain some memories. Lia seems more pensive and moody than is her typical nature, and she sits across the bow from Galingal, unconsciously mirroring the dour shadow elf. Eventually everyone eats, drinks, and settles down to rest.

You take your rest in shifts, and it is during Galingal's that his alert ears hear a lilting song carrying faintly across the water. The feminine voice captures his attention as he listens raptly.

"In a land where Shadows creep,
A sleeping rhyme we sing, so sweet.
But listen close, my dear little one,
For Darkness lurks where waters run.

Hush, hush, close your eyes,
As we venture where the lantern-light dies.
In this twisted tale, we shall find,
A Darkness that haunts the innocent mind.

This twisted tale, a cautionary art,
In the depths of the Underdark, where nightmares start.
But beware, dear child, don't be misled,
For demons hide beneath your bed.

Tread lightly on this eerie trail,
Where fairytales turn wicked and pale.
The innocent smiles may start to fade,
As secrets unfold in this dark trade.

Hush, hush, close your eyes,
As we venture where the lantern-light dies.
In this twisted tale, we shall find,
A darkness that haunts the innocent mind.

So sleep tight, my dear, in shadows deep,
Where nightmares dance and secrets seep.
For in this world of twisted rhyme,
Darkness dwells in the realm of bedtime.

Darkness dwells in the realm of bedtime..."

The last line faintly echoes across the water as a figure emerges from the dark, sitting cross legged in a inverted mushroom cap, no paddle in evidence, one hand trailing over the side in the water. It is hard to make out features in the darkness, but she is wearing a pale colored dress, with light hair descending in curls past her shoulders. She looks to Galingal and cocks her head to the side, calling out to him, "Wide awake while others slumber, how many remain among your number?"

Galingal listens to the song and watches the singer approach. Before saying anything to the new arrival, Galingal wakes the others.

”Dangerous place to tell stranger how many we are. Are you fae?”

"Not willing to say how many I survey, yet want me to revel if I am fae? Perhaps I merely find rhyme to be stimulating, and don't care much for assimilating."

A smile is evident as she draws within forty feet or so, her mushroom cap halting.

"Strangers we are in a dangerous place, but strangers no more with a name to a face."

"Jenny I was, Jenny I'll be, and Jenny I am, can you give me yours without trying to scam?"

Galingal thinks quickly for a moment then nods. He gestures at the others.

”They call me Gal. I don’t know how many left.” Galingal says, being honest. How many escaped the monstrous demonic entity is unknown to him.

"Gal makes one, and there's two and three. A fourth, a fifth and one I cannot see."

"But other's you've lost, I see that now. Some strangers, some friends, some you disavow."

"Questions you have, and answers have I, some of you yet may greet the sky."

Galingal looks over at Lia. She would be the one he’d have take the lead with this newcomer. They seem to be on the same ethereal wavelength. But she hasn’t been herself lately.

Stena will just growl at them. And she’s probably already just sitting quietly, invisible, and watching.

Gal reaches over and nudges the old man and Neth. They’re talkers.

While waiting for the others to rouse themselves, Gal contemplates what to ask but he keeps coming back to the last sentence this intruder said.

”Do you know a way to the surface world?”

"I know there are ways to get from here to there, as for the particulars, I've never needed to care."

"Those who raid the surface would know best, but foolish to put drow restraint to the test."

"Perhaps a route, I could devise, if I were offered a suitable prize."

“What prize you need?” asks Galingal.

He’s still figuring out these underworlders and their mannerisms but he does his best to see how shifty or honest this one might be.

Insight: 11  

She smiles a wide smile.

"For it to be worth it to receive, it's value to you, you must conceive."

"The greater the boon that you request, the higher the offer you must suggest."

Galingal has barely figured out the language, and while he understands rhyming in his native tongue, parsing the meaning of her intent on top of the meaning of her words is too much for him.

FOG rouses from his sleep, blinking awkwardly at the figure. What are the odds he starts blurting pages from another book?

15

Stena slowly comes to in confusion, hearing Galingal talking and then another, unfamiliar rhyming voice. She lays still as she listens to what is said, hand going to her bow, before snatching it up and drawing and arrow to aim in the direction of the voice.

She'll then ask in an angry growl,

"Galingal. Who is this?"

The woman in the boat cocks an easy as Stena draws an arrow and speaks.

"The voice in the dark sounds rather grumpy, I hope for my sake she isn't jumpy."

Galingal almost smiles at the mention of Stena being grumpy. Almost. It's a new sensation. Being away from the Shadowfell this long is changing him.

"She never jumpy," Galingal says. Then over his shoulder to Stena. "Visitor. Says can show us way to surface if we give them something valuable."

Galingal waves an arm at the 'boat'.

"We have no treasures."

Galingal can't read this newcomer at all but something is still unsettling about them.

He lowers his voice and whispers to Stena.

"Am sure she is fey," Galingal says. "Maybe help, maybe hurt. Can't tell.'

(Fog have any idea what they might be dealing with with that arcana roll?)

Stena responds tersely to Gal in a whisper,

"Does it matter? It is trying to rob us without a fight. Send it off."