Zorg's Lost Souls III

     Mulligan, continuing to pick out a gentle melody almost accidentally, watches Rowan and g'ReG gather up the items and such.  

     Thanks but I think I understand this instrument well enough.  It's my voice, after all.  It allows me to speak.

     Mulligan transmits this to the others with a smile on his lips and the hint of a tear in the corner of one eye.  Mulligan leaves it at that for now and continues playing even as he watches curiously as the others do their thing.  He's interested in what else they find, of course, but he's not ready to stop "singing" quite yet.

((Soonly enough Mulligan will explain to the others that with the banjo he can speak once again.  After a fashion.  So to speak.  With it he can Speak with Animals or Speak with Plants or even Speak with Dead. Maybe not speak speak exactly but they'll understand him when he needs them to...))

Rowan looks at Mulligan, cocking his head at an angle, like a dog trying to understand what their owner is saying.

"You didn't lose your actual voice? But a banjo you call Voice?" Rowan says, trying to make sense of what Mulligan has said. "And this is that banjo? Well, it's very nice. But what happened to your actual voice? Did you just never have one?"

Rowan pauses, then his eyes go wide.

"This is a metaphor, right?"

Charmay doesn't stick around for long. She has a kingdom to run now. Leaving the group in the room alone, she departs.

With Greginald's serial rituals completed, his curiosity now turns to the magic mirror. His arcane skill has revealed the magic word that activates the portal - "BANDERSNATCH" - and a swirling vortex of of mist appears where the glass used to be. Grumbling about the foolishness of putting the most intelligent party member at risk, Greg nevertheless acquiesces and allows Rowan no, Mulligan or Barria to hold one end of the collapsing pole as he holds the other and walks through the misty surface...

Greginald:

"Hells!" G'Reg exclaims at mulligans description of his new instrument, "You'll be talking to everything without ever making a noise, aside from your strumming of course. well, whatever floats yer boat!"
With the items gathered and identified, Greg starts handing them out, "Wand of conducting to Mulligan I think, that way if you need some musical accompaniment then you got it, I look forward to your shows hm?
This spider gives the spall spiderclimb, I think with Rowan's skill to throw himself out of balconies and not take too much damage, this should maybe go to Barria, gives you options if ever you get stuck anywhere.
This puppet casts Minor illusion, I want Rowan to have this, merely to give you a way to deceive folk, If you get practice at it in this way, maybe it'll come easier to you in a verbal and social setting, hm?
Unless anyone has any objections, I want to keep a hold of the doll to figure out how best to use it, also I want the pole to reach things, it's not as multifunctional as a hoe, but it'll do for now. I'm also aking the books to read and the parchments. 
The problem item here is the ring, useful for sure, it stops others reading your mind, determining certain things about you if you're disguised, It can even make you invisible, But it might interfere a little with mental communications a bit and theres the little thing of it capturing your soul if you die with it on.
take the sack, we don't know what these items might mean to the other hags, I wanna hold onto that pendant with endelyn on it"

     Mulligan strums a rather discordant series of notes and shrugs.

     I think I'll still keep my talking to a minimum.  How much small talk does one want to have with grass and mosquitos?

     And when G'rEg starts passing out items he waves off the Wand of Conducting. 

     Perhaps Barria or yourself should keep that.  I don't think Rowan or I could use it while playing the instruments we already have.

     After pointing that out Mulligan talks about the ring.

     As I understand how you initially described it, only the ring becomes invisible, not the wearer. Not much benefit there unless someone else was looking for the ring, I'd think.  It shouldn't interfere with the Group Chat I can set up for us to communicate mentally unless the wearer chose not to receive my words.  Truth is, any of you could choose to drop out of the Group Chat whenever you choose.  But the soul remaining in the ring...  Is there one in it now?  I would think we should check.  They could know something useful.

     With Charmay not caring, Mulligan suggests we loot everything of value.  As for the magic items found he has no objections to what G'reG has suggested excepting not seeing the Wand of Conducting useful for himself.

_____

Hmph, Group Inventory doesn't allow for notes so I'm adding the items in the sack (minus the wand of conducting) to the notes of my inventory...  Everyone taking a magic item should be sure to list it.  Mulligan got the banjo and he's happy enough with that...

"Greedy little bugger.." Barria whispers under her breath as the gnome takes most of the items and hands out a few.  She takes the spider and the offered wand from Mulligan and looks appreciatively at the banjo.  "That is quite a work of art, I'm so glad it found you."

She doesn't participate in the sacking of the room, but keeps an eye out in the hallway in case any of the darklings decide to change their mind and patiently waits.

Rowan accepts the hand puppet, moving it's mouth soundless for a few seconds before making his own voice sound like an angry parent "You better behave Rowan or you'll be banished from the village. You're not like the rest of us."

He laughs at the puppets and looks around at the others, ready to see what's next, when he realizes that G'Reg has gotten on the end of the pole and has gone through the mirror.

Rowan gets up close to the swirling mist, so close the front of his face is actually in it and calls out "Hey G'Reg. See anything?"

Once the items are handed out and Greg has popped through to the carnival and back again he dusts off his trousers and gives a nod, "Carnival, it's safe, I don't care where we rest but that being said, it would be interesting to give Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb an update, see how they react hm?"

Rowan smiles when G'Reg pops back out of the mist of the mirror.

"It could be a one way only type of thing, couldn't it?" Rowan suggests. "What if we let Hurly, or is it Burly, go through? He'd like to see his brother anyway. With no pole to keep the gate open, we could see if he's able to stick his head back out this way then we'd know if we could come and go as we please."

Rowan pauses, wondering for a second before finally asking "Who were Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb? I don't remember meeting anyone with those names. Did you meet them before we met at the carnival?"

"Witch and Light, cowards the pair of them..." G'Reg states in answer to Rowan's question. "Someone should go tell Hurley, the kid had a stupid wish and probably needs a win, wanting to 'be more likable' and thinking that you'll get it from a deal with a hag, just be likable! I don't know what all the fuss is about, it's not like it's hard..." G'Reg continues, wholly unaware of the irony of those words coming specifically from his mouth.

Barria rushes over and gives Rowan a hug, "What a great idea!" claims the dwarf and ignores G'Reg as he mumbles on about being likeable as she goes to fetch the bugbear dressed in the dragonborn outfit.  She does have a quick thought and over her shoulder calls out, "Maybe we talk to Charmay?  I don't want to be stuck in the carnival without a way to Hither and Thither if they decide we no longer need to go."

     Mulligan decides that Break-A-Leg can go back with Hurley.  Or was it Burly?  Whichever, he figures they will both be appreciative of the company and the return...

     I know the mirrors there can transport one elsewhere for I saw the Pig-Girl and he unfortunate Halfling catch running away through one.  It does not seem they came here so I assume to Hither or Tither.  Even if each mirror works to transport though it doesn't mean they can all go to each other or that the key words are the same.  

     Mulligan thusly cautions the others...

It feels like so long ago now and so far away, but with the reminder of the Carnival, other memories return... 

Memories of standing in front of the three mirrors. Of words spoken... a poem. Of three mirrors revealing three different landscapes: beautiful landscapes of magical paradises... mountains, meadows and forests...

...one of which turned out to be far different than advertised.

     But a balloon ship.  How do we pass that up?

     Mulligan nudges mentally, as always without emotion of inflection.

"well you guys decide what's going on" and with that G'Reg finds a corner to sit with one of the reclaimed books and begins reading. The floor was no comfortable hayloft but this would do for now.

Gleam and Hurly's shadows are found in the shadow theater. There is a brief conflict as the shadows resist, but Mulligan's psychic blades, Greg and Barria's arcane and divine magic, and Rowan's wild powers prove particularly useful against creatures with no tangible form. Luckily there is enough fight left in the group to subdue them, and no sooner is each shadow defeated than it appears once more attached to its owner (at least those owners present).

Gleam and Hurly are most grateful. Together with Glister and Break-a-leg, they are delighted to be invited to travel to the Carnival through the mirror-portal in Endelyn's room. Some of the actors also elect to go through the mirror, hoping that the planes-travelling Carnival might allow them to return to their own worlds someday. Now that his quest to reunite Glister with his sister is complete, Amidor elects to remain in Yon, vowing instead to seek the return of Queen Zybilna.

The group bid their new friends farewell, then look to take a much-needed rest. The halls of Motherhorn are still dark and gloomy, but the sense of doom that permeated the castle seems to have eased somewhat. With some of the residents having vacated, there are lodgings aplenty to sleep and recuperate.

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The storm-cloud balloon is something to behold. Tethered to one of the high balconies of the castle, the gondola appears to be a small wooden shop, complete with a sales counter, and a shingle that reads: "Wondrous Wares and Fair Fares". But rising from the wooden structure are impossibly thin wires, which join high overhead to a series of huge rings that encircle a small storm-cloud. Lightning flashes within the cloud itself, and light rain falls around the store, sending trickles of water off the eaves and onto the stone balcony.

Three darklings await the group: two of the small beady-eyed variety, and one of the taller type. The tall one introduces itself as Charm, claiming to be the captain of the airship, and declares that all passengers must obey her directions. The sense is that Charm is none too keen on the arrangement, but has agreed to it for Charmay's sake. The other two darklings are not introduced, but Charm directs her orders to them, naming them Trinket and Bauble. For a trio of merchants, they don't seem particularly passionate about selling. Even after casting off, there is no sales banter of any kind, and only when pressed do Trinket and Bauble agree half-heartedly to trade.

With a disappointing lack of ceremony, the group enter the wooden shop, and the lines are cast off. With the gentlest of motions, the balloon lifts off and glides noiselessly away from Castle Motherhorn. The view is spectacular. Lightning flashes all around as the balloon joins the other storm-clouds, and although the view is somewhat obscured, snatches can be seen of the realm below, including the great lake. Like the castle, the mood is different now: less fearful, and even a little hopeful.

Soon the cloud thickens further, and Charm states that they are moving through the wall of mist that separates the realms of Yon and Thither... mists that even many natives of Prismeer cannot cross without a guide. The air thickens, and even sound seems to struggle to push through it, reaching the ears as little more than a dull pressure. The shroud persists for a time until snatches of the land below are seen once more. But like before, the realm is different from that seen in vision. Whereas the Carnival mirror revealed an enchanted forest of dappled sunlight and colourful creatures, the view below is of a dark forest: a mossy, damp, ancient decaying forest, half-lit with the red glow of sunset. Heavy feelings of regret wash over the four travellers, and old memories seem to loiter in the periphery of the mind.

Charm offers to land the balloon directly at Loomlurch, the home of the Hourglass Coven sister that reigns over Thither. In fact, it seems the thick forest offer few options for the craft to pierce the canopy anywhere else. A few rocky hills jut from the forest canopy, catching the amber light. Many have small tree-covered earthmotes floating beside them, linked by thick vines. In the near distance, a grey lake is seen nestled in the embrace of a small ring of rocky hills. A thin river snakes through the forest, and a myriad small clearing dot the landscape, but all are too small or remote for the balloon to land in. As the airship (or is it an airshop?) descends from the clouds, a slightly larger clearing is seen in the forest, dominated by an enormous fallen oak tree.

The colossal dead tree lays on its side. Three living oaks grow from the fallen remains... their shapes resemble towers, with candlelit windows twinkling in the gloom and wooden balconies encircling gnarled branches. As the craft gets nearer, it is also possible to see modest well-tended gardens dotting the small clearing around the giant log. In one area, firelight spills from a pair of quaint storefront windows cut into the side of the oak, illuminating a small group of semi-permanent market stalls spread loosely in the adjoining clearing.

MAP (For vibes only. Not to be relied on for navigation)

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(I'll pause here to allow any interjections in the foregoing narrative)

As they pass through the sound dampening fog and mist, Rowan can't help himself but blow on the small electrum whistle hanging around his neck just to see if anything in the mist responds, all the while making the hand puppet swoop and bob through the mist. 

Rowan looks down at the woods below, and even though there seems to be a grim darkness clinging to the land, the sight of so much forest makes him smile.

"I didn't realize how much I missed it," Rowan says to the others. Then he pauses and frowns. "Why do you think missing a target with an arrow and missing a forest use the same word?"

But he tries to turn serious when the darkling suggests landing at the large fallen oak tree.

"Do we want to do that? I suppose it would be easier than having to try and find whomever runs this place. And it would make it easier to directly find out if they have Barria's recipe, or big G's magic hoe." 

     After saying goodbyes to those leaving Mulligan waits by the mirror for a while and even returns once or thrice before giving up on his scheme of having them send back some more Pixie Dust, as well as some tasty treats from the Carnival.  He knew it was a long shot but he figured it was a shot worth shooting...

     The gloomy castle is not the most welcoming or comfortable place to catch some sleep in but Mulligan has spelt in rougher and more inhospitable conditions.  One does not get as rumpled and disheveled as Mulligan via glamping.  Such as he have learned to get sleep when sleep was available even when roughing it.  (Do we all et a long rest in?)  In the morning he resets the "Group Chat" for Barria, G'rEG, Rowan and himself so that they can more easily communicate and do so at some distance when need be.  ((This first use of Psychic Whispers is "free" and lasts 2 hours.  After that Mulligan will need to reset it at the cost a Psionic Energy Die.  He'll hold off until and unless matters start to seem pressing as he can still just use Telepathy to talk to everyone one at a time until then...))

     Mulligan prefers the flight he got from the Pixie Dust over riding in the Storm Cloud Balloon.  He can only presume it is the fact that he himself was in control and thus knew when he would be moving this way or that...  And the lack of a storm cloud continuously above his head.  He doesn't toss his cookies or anything but riding beneath such a dark cloud is definitely not his favorite mode of transportation.

     Mulligan does his best to avoid and stay out of the way of the Darklings.  All in all he finds them a bit unnerving so he figures it best to allow them to do their thing.  As such he doesn't inquire about what type of merchants they are or what they may have for sale (or trade) during the trip.  If others do then Mulligan would of course eavesdrop but he does not initiate...  He does look around and peruse silently if items are on display, of course.  Assuming he could do so without too much interaction with the Darklings.

     Going through the mists that separates the two lands, Mulligan has a moment or so of absolute panic.  When the air thickens and even sound seems to struggle to push through it Mulligan's heart races, his eyes dart all around and his brain goes into overdrive.  He clutches his banjo to his chest for comfort but would be too panicked to pluck the chords even if he knew a song that would offer himself any comfort.  The panic is due to a momentary worry that he was about to lose his hearing as well as his voice.  After the Storm Cloud Balloon pushes through the veil of mists from one realm to the other he is able to regain himself and perhaps even chide himself - his telepathy does allow two way communication without sound from either direction after all.  And this soothes him, a bit.  But clothing his banjo he also realizes there is much more sound that is important than just communicating with another...

"I didn't realize how much I missed it," Rowan says to the others. Then he pauses and frowns. "Why do you think missing a target with an arrow and missing a forest use the same word?"

     Perhaps it has to do with the language each "missing" originated in?  In Common the concept of missing and missing both use the same word but I do not believe it is a universal truth across all languages...

     Mulligan isn't sure if that is true or not but it has a certain truthiness to it either way.  If nothing else it may keep the rather random elf preoccupied for a while.

     Is the tree on it's side Loomlurch?

     Mulligan asks his companions via Group Chat when the topic of landing spot is brought up, not directly communicating with the Darklings.  

     I would think landing anywhere but the hag's front door would be best.  Perhaps here, as in Yon, we can find allies to help us.  Or at least natives to give us useful information before we go knocking on their door.  And which hag is it that lives here, again?

In one last desperate attempt to procure some more Pixie Dust, Mulligan returns to the mirror one last time before departing on the balloon. Speaking the command word, the mirror again opens, and Mulligan carefully pokes his head through, while holding fast to the wardrobe on he Feywild side. The Carnival calliope is still playing, and muffled sounds of laughter and delight still leech through the walls of the tent... still, even after all these hours! Surely there must be some strange incongruencies with time, and Mulligan realises that he would likely have to wait hours or even days in the Feywild before anyone in the Carnival could take the required minutes to return with supplies. He leaves resignedly, contemplating whether his head and shoulders had aged less than the rest of his body while half through the mirror...

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Unwilling to open any sales dialogue with the darklings, Mulligan instead uses his powers of investigation and locates a dusty, faded sign hanging below the counter on the outside of the gondola...

AVAILABLE FOR A LIMITED TIME ONLY:
Very good thimble (fingertip not included)
Mug of Bumble Beer (has a nice sting to it)
Duskmallow pie (with decorative bite marks)
Bundle of dry wood (great for starting fires)
Ink portraits (if we have to look at you, so should you)
Moonlight monocle (no more fumbling in the dark)

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Confronted suddenly with the prospect of landing an enormous storm cloud in the front yard of a hag they've never met... and worse still, the sister of one recently deceased at their hands, sends the group into a sudden mild panic. Was this the plan all along? Was it some deception on the part of the darklings? Was Charmay involved? Hadn't she been seen whispering something to Charm just before the balloon had launched? Hoping it wasn't too late to change course, the group raise their concerns with the dark fey captain, who answers with a hiss:

What do you mean, you don't know if you want to land at Loomlurch? We can't exactly land many places else. The dark eyes narrow. There's always the option to disembark without landing, of course. Then turning away, Charm adds: Besides you might find it preferable to deal directly with Granny Nightshade than with any of her large number of...

LOOK! Trinket shouts, pointing at a strange figure rising from behind the huge fallen oak. Fabric flutters in the slight breeze. Amber light reflects off a white skirt, a layered dress and... a horse? A rocking horse! As the figure rises into the air and approaches the balloon, it becomes more clear: A thin, gnarled face pokes out from a tattered dress with petticoats, from the back of which protrudes a giant key. Thin wrinkled hands grip the reins of a painted wooden rocking horse... which flies.

It seems the flying-rocking-horse-riding figure is preparing to circle the balloon, perhaps inspecting it during its approach. Anyone wishing to conceal themselves has scant moments to do so before they are spotted... if they haven't been already.

Rowan looks over the side to get a better look at the figure on the rocking horse. His curiosity drives any thought of hiding out of his mind, not that he’d have likely been interested in hiding anyway. This place was far too curious.

”Who’s that? Is it Granny Hag?”