The view from up high is breathtaking and somewhat relaxing, G'Reg attempts to persuade the dragonfly to veer this way and that but the creature seems to have a path planned out and doesn't seem too receptive to input. G'Reg does however keep a keen eye out for the shadow Gleam, wondering where it could have gone to. He passes over the cupcake contest ground and tries to get the dragonfly to follow the path that the dwarf had pointed out, over Northwind and Red where the last known location was and he tires to slow a little eyeing every alley, every back of a tent where someone or something may be able to hide out. (12 perception)
Seeing the kerfuffle happening by the lake and the evacuating crowd. Well, that's none of his business, and surely witch and Light would have some measure of security, G'Reg's general lack of duty, of responsibility means his interest isn't pulled much in the dramas of others, not at least when he had his own things to investigate. But with his dragonfly not particularly listening to him, he is inside if he will end up landing there despite his lack of intrigue.
Rowan's eyes go wide and his smile broadens when the elf reveals its true self. A black feathered bird humanoid? Rowan feels like he's heard of such creatures but can't say that he's ever encountered one before.
"You're right, I don't work for the carnival," Rowan begins. "But I would love to. Look at all the colours and listen to all the music. It's magic. I can't think of anything better than to play music here."
Rowan has forgotten that he's holding the shape-shifter's arm tightly, but he also has not relaxed his grip either.
"But Prismeer? I heard a poem or a song that mentioned it and it sounded -" Rowan pauses not sure what word to use next. Familiar wasn't right. Neither was strange. "Forgotten. It sounds forgotten. But even hearing it doesn't remind me of anything. But then you said something about it. What is Prismeer?"
He waits for a moment for an answer, but then continues on.
Disappointed that the mermaid seems to have left the scene, Barria's attention turns towards the black feathered creature being held by the elf. She wonders if the bird like thing was the one that was being rude towards the mermaid and finds herself walking in their direction.
She gets close enough to overhear what is going on. Finally she can't help herself and butts in, "You play music sir? Oh I would love to hear! Why have you taken this creature hostage? Was he the one harassing the mermaid? What was he saying?"
Barria can tell that the elf holding the black bird humanoid is relatively young for his kind. His broad smile widens when Barria mentions wanting to hear him play music. Without realizing it, the lean muscles in his arm tighten his grip on the wrist of his captive.
"I do. When I have two hands free I shall play you something I have been working on," the elf says. "I'm Rowan Birch by the way. And you?"
He barely allows a heartbeat to pass to give time for Barria to respond before Rowan continues on.
"Hostage? I'm not sure about that. I don't want anything in return for holding on to him. Well that's not true, I do want to know who or what Prismeer is. You don't happen to know do you? Now that I've heard it I can't get it out of my head. It just keeps repeating over and over. Prismeer. Prismeer. Prismeer. I'm finding it very hard to regulate my emotions with that going on. Anyway, my captive was heckling the poor mermaid, saying her singing was garbage and hurting his ears. This was clearly a lie and it would be of some interest to find out why he said that but not nearly as much as I want to know about Prismeer."
Rowan takes a breath but continues on before Barria can respond again.
"And do you know what a Niblog is? It's another word bouncing around in my head. Prismeer. Niblog. Prismeer. Niblog. Just saying them out loud has my heart starting to race."
He looks back to the bird-humanoid, and down at his hand holding their wrist.
"Oh right. Prismeer. Can you tell me about it?" Rowan asks. "I don't want to keep holding on to you. Would you stay to talk if I let you go?"
Mulligan smiles sadly as the Dwarf and Elf mention music - nobody appreciates the banjo! But he continues softly plucking out the tune he was already playing as he eavesdrops on the conversation they are having with the shapechanger...
To the Bird / Shapeshifter / whatever...
Is this finally your true form? The words you speak do not match it. Explain. And tell us about the thieves.
Mulligan just idly hovers on the periphery of the little hostage scenario, for lack of a better phrase. He wants to hear what is going on but tries to appear more as if he is just playing music for the dwindling crowd. It occurs to him that he should have put his hat down upon the ground as if he was busking for tips but he was mid-song now. Perhaps once this one is done, if there is still a crowd and this scenario is still going on...
To Everyone Present:
Mulligan is dressed in blacks and browns and greys - colors that help hide the fact they may not have been washed as frequently as needed. But while he gives an overall shabby appearance a closer look reveals his clothes are indeed well tended to. They are old but not raggedy, and hole or tear mended or patched nattily in hobo chic fashion. He currently is playing a banjo - a soft, slow tune - and wearing a bit of a chagrined smile upon his face. He also wears a set of fake dragonfly wings on his back, they are askew and look ready to fall off. Except for the shiny banjo, the dragonfly wings are the only colorful part of Mulligan.
The dragonfly does indeed have a set pattern, like a pony that spends its days giving rides around a familiar track, and G'Reginald doesn't quite muster the skill to guide it away from its routine.
Spotting an errant shadow amongst all the movement and lights of the carnival proves even more daunting, although something does catch the gnome's eye. As he passes the Big Top, he sees a series of posters featuring some of the current and past performers in the carnival's history, some of which he vaguely recalls from his original visit. Among them is a pair of elven acrobats, one of whom has a headdress in the shape of a moon!
At the mercy of his mount, G'Reginald continues his circuit of the carnival, still taking in the sights and sounds, but observing no shadow fitting the description. The dragonfly lands once more on the large lily pad on the pond, and Greginald dismounts.
Still having no luck tracking the shadow, Greginald can only try to pick up the trail as best he can. Aside from the sighting at the Feasting Orchard, and the information that the shadow travelled toward the Dragonfly Rides, the next closest attraction is the Carousel, and its surrounding sideshows. But how does one track a shadow...?
If Greginald wants to start a fresh search in this area, then he can make a new ability check. Roll Perception if he is continuing with spotting the shadow directly, or roll Investigation if he is attempting to identify other clues...
Rowan and Barria (and Mulligan)
(I'll switch the creature's dialog to orange so as not to confuse with Barria)
The crowd mills around, taking only passing note of the elf gripping the bird-creature with the dwarf watching. The only other unmoving fixture is the nearby banjo-playing hobo, and the bird-creature glances over at him once or twice. The creature struggles a little during the brief conversation between the elf and dwarf before replying...
Fine, I'll talk! Just... let's get out of the street. That dopey bugbear will be here any second. Look, over there... those standing stones.
It's only a short distance off the main path to a small ring of menhirs out of the view of the public eye, directly behind where the banjo-playing is standing. The bird-creature doesn't resist Rowan's grip as they relocate the short distance, glancing curiously again at the banjoist as it passes, with the dwarf following along for curiosity's sake. The bird-creature looks around carefully before resuming its speech in the male-human voice, although to Barria the mannerisms of the creature are decidedly female.
So, you're just a couple of curious dolts, eh? she says eyeing the two. Well it does me no harm to tell you. I don't know who your mind-speaker friend is, but they must be with you judging by their use of the first person plural...
Yes, this is my true form. I'm a kenku, and if you didn't know, we usually can only mimic what we hear.I'm Rowan Birch, by the way [it says in exact copy of Rowan]. Oh I would love to hear! [Barria's voice returns to her]. Some call me Kettlesteam, because [the kenku opens its beak and the uncanny whistling sound of a boiling kettle issues out]. Heckling is difficult though when you can only use second-hand sounds, so I borrowed the voice of a mime from the carnival, since he wasn't using it. [The kenku tips its head back a little and opens its beak as if to laugh, but the sound that comes out is like the laughter of a small crowd in a theater]. Promised to help him pay court to the mermaid in return, the sucker. [laughter sound again].
Anyway... so you've heard of Prismeer then. It's a fairy realm, the land of my fairy godmother in fact, Queen Zybilna. [Another sound issues from the kenku's beak, like wind blowing through willows and faraway tinkling bells]. She talks to me - or at least she used to... Grants me certain powers in return for favours in the material realm. Fair trade. But I've not heard from her for some time. Lost contact. [Kettlesteam mimics the sound of crickets chirping].
This carnival is originally from Prismeer. So it follows that the owners must know more about that realm than anyone. I've tried talking to them, asking them if they know what happened to Zybilna, but they clammed up. Cold shoulder. Well I won't take no answer for an answer... [The kenku mimics the sound of a dog gnawing a bone]. If they know something, then I'll make them tell. Hit them where it hurts until they cough up. Hehe. See how they like consoling their precious prima donna singing mermaid. [laughter].
I've heard about the thieves too. Not caught any glimpses though. Owners must know about them, but I can't see how that's connected. So... What you going to do? Turn me in? Curry favour with the owners so they give you a gig? Or are you going to let me go... Better still, do you want to help me make them tell what they know, and you can find out more about Prismeer, since you're so interested... [mimics the sound of a clock ticking].
The area just about spent and the trail of a shadow seemingly non existent, G'Reg moves to the carousel and begins an investigation, looking for clues and asking the more senior looking carnival workers (who may already know who gleam is and that her shadow is around,) where she might be or if they have spotted her recently.
G'Reginald's flight
The view from up high is breathtaking and somewhat relaxing, G'Reg attempts to persuade the dragonfly to veer this way and that but the creature seems to have a path planned out and doesn't seem too receptive to input. G'Reg does however keep a keen eye out for the shadow Gleam, wondering where it could have gone to. He passes over the cupcake contest ground and tries to get the dragonfly to follow the path that the dwarf had pointed out, over Northwind and Red where the last known location was and he tires to slow a little eyeing every alley, every back of a tent where someone or something may be able to hide out. (12 perception)
Seeing the kerfuffle happening by the lake and the evacuating crowd. Well, that's none of his business, and surely witch and Light would have some measure of security, G'Reg's general lack of duty, of responsibility means his interest isn't pulled much in the dramas of others, not at least when he had his own things to investigate. But with his dragonfly not particularly listening to him, he is inside if he will end up landing there despite his lack of intrigue.
Rowan's eyes go wide and his smile broadens when the elf reveals its true self. A black feathered bird humanoid? Rowan feels like he's heard of such creatures but can't say that he's ever encountered one before.
"You're right, I don't work for the carnival," Rowan begins. "But I would love to. Look at all the colours and listen to all the music. It's magic. I can't think of anything better than to play music here."
Rowan has forgotten that he's holding the shape-shifter's arm tightly, but he also has not relaxed his grip either.
"But Prismeer? I heard a poem or a song that mentioned it and it sounded -" Rowan pauses not sure what word to use next. Familiar wasn't right. Neither was strange. "Forgotten. It sounds forgotten. But even hearing it doesn't remind me of anything. But then you said something about it. What is Prismeer?"
He waits for a moment for an answer, but then continues on.
"I'm Rowan Birch. Who are you?"
Disappointed that the mermaid seems to have left the scene, Barria's attention turns towards the black feathered creature being held by the elf. She wonders if the bird like thing was the one that was being rude towards the mermaid and finds herself walking in their direction.
She gets close enough to overhear what is going on. Finally she can't help herself and butts in, "You play music sir? Oh I would love to hear! Why have you taken this creature hostage? Was he the one harassing the mermaid? What was he saying?"
Barria can tell that the elf holding the black bird humanoid is relatively young for his kind. His broad smile widens when Barria mentions wanting to hear him play music. Without realizing it, the lean muscles in his arm tighten his grip on the wrist of his captive.
"I do. When I have two hands free I shall play you something I have been working on," the elf says. "I'm Rowan Birch by the way. And you?"
He barely allows a heartbeat to pass to give time for Barria to respond before Rowan continues on.
"Hostage? I'm not sure about that. I don't want anything in return for holding on to him. Well that's not true, I do want to know who or what Prismeer is. You don't happen to know do you? Now that I've heard it I can't get it out of my head. It just keeps repeating over and over. Prismeer. Prismeer. Prismeer. I'm finding it very hard to regulate my emotions with that going on. Anyway, my captive was heckling the poor mermaid, saying her singing was garbage and hurting his ears. This was clearly a lie and it would be of some interest to find out why he said that but not nearly as much as I want to know about Prismeer."
Rowan takes a breath but continues on before Barria can respond again.
"And do you know what a Niblog is? It's another word bouncing around in my head. Prismeer. Niblog. Prismeer. Niblog. Just saying them out loud has my heart starting to race."
He looks back to the bird-humanoid, and down at his hand holding their wrist.
"Oh right. Prismeer. Can you tell me about it?" Rowan asks. "I don't want to keep holding on to you. Would you stay to talk if I let you go?"
Mulligan smiles sadly as the Dwarf and Elf mention music - nobody appreciates the banjo! But he continues softly plucking out the tune he was already playing as he eavesdrops on the conversation they are having with the shapechanger...
To the Bird / Shapeshifter / whatever...
Is this finally your true form? The words you speak do not match it. Explain. And tell us about the thieves.
Mulligan just idly hovers on the periphery of the little hostage scenario, for lack of a better phrase. He wants to hear what is going on but tries to appear more as if he is just playing music for the dwindling crowd. It occurs to him that he should have put his hat down upon the ground as if he was busking for tips but he was mid-song now. Perhaps once this one is done, if there is still a crowd and this scenario is still going on...
To Everyone Present:
Mulligan is dressed in blacks and browns and greys - colors that help hide the fact they may not have been washed as frequently as needed. But while he gives an overall shabby appearance a closer look reveals his clothes are indeed well tended to. They are old but not raggedy, and hole or tear mended or patched nattily in hobo chic fashion. He currently is playing a banjo - a soft, slow tune - and wearing a bit of a chagrined smile upon his face. He also wears a set of fake dragonfly wings on his back, they are askew and look ready to fall off. Except for the shiny banjo, the dragonfly wings are the only colorful part of Mulligan.
G'Reginald
The dragonfly does indeed have a set pattern, like a pony that spends its days giving rides around a familiar track, and G'Reginald doesn't quite muster the skill to guide it away from its routine.
Spotting an errant shadow amongst all the movement and lights of the carnival proves even more daunting, although something does catch the gnome's eye. As he passes the Big Top, he sees a series of posters featuring some of the current and past performers in the carnival's history, some of which he vaguely recalls from his original visit. Among them is a pair of elven acrobats, one of whom has a headdress in the shape of a moon!
At the mercy of his mount, G'Reginald continues his circuit of the carnival, still taking in the sights and sounds, but observing no shadow fitting the description. The dragonfly lands once more on the large lily pad on the pond, and Greginald dismounts.
Still having no luck tracking the shadow, Greginald can only try to pick up the trail as best he can. Aside from the sighting at the Feasting Orchard, and the information that the shadow travelled toward the Dragonfly Rides, the next closest attraction is the Carousel, and its surrounding sideshows. But how does one track a shadow...?
If Greginald wants to start a fresh search in this area, then he can make a new ability check. Roll Perception if he is continuing with spotting the shadow directly, or roll Investigation if he is attempting to identify other clues...
Rowan and Barria (and Mulligan)
(I'll switch the creature's dialog to orange so as not to confuse with Barria)
The crowd mills around, taking only passing note of the elf gripping the bird-creature with the dwarf watching. The only other unmoving fixture is the nearby banjo-playing hobo, and the bird-creature glances over at him once or twice. The creature struggles a little during the brief conversation between the elf and dwarf before replying...
Fine, I'll talk! Just... let's get out of the street. That dopey bugbear will be here any second. Look, over there... those standing stones.
It's only a short distance off the main path to a small ring of menhirs out of the view of the public eye, directly behind where the banjo-playing is standing. The bird-creature doesn't resist Rowan's grip as they relocate the short distance, glancing curiously again at the banjoist as it passes, with the dwarf following along for curiosity's sake. The bird-creature looks around carefully before resuming its speech in the male-human voice, although to Barria the mannerisms of the creature are decidedly female.
So, you're just a couple of curious dolts, eh? she says eyeing the two. Well it does me no harm to tell you. I don't know who your mind-speaker friend is, but they must be with you judging by their use of the first person plural...
Yes, this is my true form. I'm a kenku, and if you didn't know, we usually can only mimic what we hear. I'm Rowan Birch, by the way [it says in exact copy of Rowan]. Oh I would love to hear! [Barria's voice returns to her]. Some call me Kettlesteam, because [the kenku opens its beak and the uncanny whistling sound of a boiling kettle issues out]. Heckling is difficult though when you can only use second-hand sounds, so I borrowed the voice of a mime from the carnival, since he wasn't using it. [The kenku tips its head back a little and opens its beak as if to laugh, but the sound that comes out is like the laughter of a small crowd in a theater]. Promised to help him pay court to the mermaid in return, the sucker. [laughter sound again].
Anyway... so you've heard of Prismeer then. It's a fairy realm, the land of my fairy godmother in fact, Queen Zybilna. [Another sound issues from the kenku's beak, like wind blowing through willows and faraway tinkling bells]. She talks to me - or at least she used to... Grants me certain powers in return for favours in the material realm. Fair trade. But I've not heard from her for some time. Lost contact. [Kettlesteam mimics the sound of crickets chirping].
This carnival is originally from Prismeer. So it follows that the owners must know more about that realm than anyone. I've tried talking to them, asking them if they know what happened to Zybilna, but they clammed up. Cold shoulder. Well I won't take no answer for an answer... [The kenku mimics the sound of a dog gnawing a bone]. If they know something, then I'll make them tell. Hit them where it hurts until they cough up. Hehe. See how they like consoling their precious prima donna singing mermaid. [laughter].
I've heard about the thieves too. Not caught any glimpses though. Owners must know about them, but I can't see how that's connected. So... What you going to do? Turn me in? Curry favour with the owners so they give you a gig? Or are you going to let me go... Better still, do you want to help me make them tell what they know, and you can find out more about Prismeer, since you're so interested... [mimics the sound of a clock ticking].
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
G'reg's search
The area just about spent and the trail of a shadow seemingly non existent, G'Reg moves to the carousel and begins an investigation, looking for clues and asking the more senior looking carnival workers (who may already know who gleam is and that her shadow is around,) where she might be or if they have spotted her recently.
Investigation 16