Zorg's Lost Souls III

Greg tries to find a point where he feels they might be diverted soon, and stops the group. "I hate that this is a plausible idea but I need you to do something Rowan." Greg points the way. "The lake is most definitely that way, if Mister Mulligan plays you a ditty can you gracefully and slowly dance your way forward and we shall follow. If at any point we are not behind you anymore please shout for us so we can get your bearing." 

Barria is so confused.  Why were they even attempting to find the lake when they were supposed to find the shadow of the mountain peak, weren't they?  Or were they?  She does smile when Rowan shouts to the lake that they weren't looking for it.  He amuses her so.

When Mulligan mentions that the unicorn has no issue finding the lake, Barria gingerly pulls out the horn that Charmay had given her to see if it has anything to say... not that it would, but she looks at it anyways, admiring the beauty of it.

As G'Reg asks Rowan to dance, she encourages this as it would be amusing even if it doesn't get them anywhere.  "And Mully, will you play something beautiful that Rowan can dance slowly to?  That would be most helpful!"

Rowan obligingly complies, not bothered with looking foolish in this foolish place. He sways and twirls as gracefully as possible, and feels only a minor affinity for the direction of the lake, as Greg did before. The elf's dance moves get a bit more unusual, trying to find the sweet spot where resistance is least... and he finds that it's more often best when he is bent over forwards... the further the better! 

Barria watches on with a giggle, before pulling out the unicorn horn gifted by Charmay. Instantly there is a marked improvement in the group's efforts against the fey barrier! It still resists their forward movement, but now it's not just Greg and Rowan that can feel that resistance weakening. They must be close to countering the glamour that protects the lake from intruders...

Rowan, starting to get into the flow of what's happening, wonders if maybe acting more like an animal dancing would help. He starts moving forward with hands and feet on the ground, occasionally bucking his back legs as if he was an equine of some sort. If that helps at all, he'll ask to borrow the horn too and repeat the process.

     Mulligan plays something soft and gentle to begin, trying to satisfy Barria's request.  Eventually, however, he cannot help it - maybe it is the fey influence, maybe just the silliness for Rowan's dance - Mulligan eventually breaks out into a polka. 

Even though he feels some kind of pride at his idea getting them closer to the lake, Greg is fuming at the fact that such a nonsensical and illogical solution is working. He listens to the rhythm instead focussing his annoyance and redirecting it into his body, moving one foot at a time, bounce ng on the heels of his feet with each step, walking like an Egyptian, whatever that means in this realm.

     Eventually the tune shifts.  Adjusts.  Changes from a polka.  And soon, in the monotone speech that everyone now expects from Mulligan, lyrics can be heard in their heads...

You put your right foot in
You put your right foot out
You put your right foot in
And you shake it all about
You do the hokey pokey
And you turn yourself around
That’s what it’s all about

You put your left foot in
You put your left foot out
You put your left foot in
And you shake it all about
You do the hokey pokey
And you turn yourself around
That’s what it’s all about

You put your right hand in
You put your right hand out
You put your right hand in
And you shake it all about
You do the hokey pokey
And you turn yourself around
That’s what it’s all about

You put your left hand in
You put your left hand out
You put your left hand in
And you shake it all about
You do the hokey pokey
And you turn yourself around
That’s what it’s all about

Barria will reach out the horn for Rowan to place his hand upon it if he feels it is helpful, but she doesn't let go of it.  She's too worried to in this place.  As the music turns into a polka and the words start in her mind, she stares at Mulligan with a quizzical look that she just doesn't get what he is trying to say.  But then she looks back to her elf friend, hoping it is helping?

Rowan really starts to get into the pantomime, dancing like a circus pony to the jaunty polka. Greg dances along in his own way, but it seems that Rowan's efforts are having the most productive effect. Rowan makes forward progress, allowing the others to follow close behind. Greg on his own does not manage to forge any new path. Instead he resigns himself to following Rowan's lead and copying the more primitive and bestial (but admittedly more graceful) antics.

Forward progress improves when the horn is revealed, and somewhat more as Barria brings it toward horse-Rowan. The impedance remains though, even when Rowan reaches out and touches the horn. But Mulligan's music has made everyone a little less inhibited, and in a moment of whimsy, Barria tries pressing the wide end of the horn to Rowan's forehead...

WHOOSH!

The forest rushes past like someone pulling not just a carpet out from underfoot, but a whole room. The attempt to reach the lake changes from trying to push forward through an invisible mostly-mental barrier, to practically being pushed forward at high speed. The violent green blur lasts for just a moment, and then suddenly everyone is standing stationery at the edge of a small lake. Rowan, in mid-horse-dance at the time and disoriented more than the others, tips over and sprawls onto the moist ground.

All is quiet and peaceful. Mist drifts lazily over the surface of the lake. Forested crags line the shore on one side like silent sentinels, and mossy rocks protrude from the shallows. Near the center of the lake is a rocky islet.

Barria quickly stashes the horn away again, then after helping Rowan up, she takes in her surroundings.  "Well.  Now that was something.  I wonder why this place makes it so difficult to get to it?"  She walks to the edge of the shore and looks into the water.

After a moment, she looks out to the islet, "Well, obviously we need to go out there somehow."

     We did it.

     Mulligan notes telepathically.  It almost carries a pleased tone to it.  But that is short lived.

     But why?  I think we got sidetracked just because there was a side to track?  

     He listens to Barria and agrees with her about wondering what charm or magics made this place special difficult to find.  And why.  But he is less convinced about her desire to explore.

     Are we sightseeing for the sake of sightseeing or is there a reason to explore further?

Rowan smiles as Barria gets up. He then brushes off some of the dirt before listening to what the others are saying and thinking.

"This is where the unicorn is coming," Rowan says. "They're in danger. Or will be in danger. Or potentially could be in danger if Granny Hag gets ahold of them."

He looks to the lake now.

"We really weren't looking for you," Rowan says to the lake. "But we ended up here anyway."

He cups his hands together and shouts towards the small island.

"Hello. Anyone over there?"

Rowan's call echoes across the lake, his voice returning back to him long after it should have died away. The air is crisp and still, yet there is a heaviness here. No birds cross the unblemished twilight sky. No insects skim the surface of the perfectly calm water. The scene is like a painting in three (or more) dimensions. A perfect painting of an idyllic forest lake, with a small island, and a unicorn standing on the island's shore...

Wait, what?

No-one recalls glancing away... yet it wasn't there a moment ago, was it?

A unicorn !

Each heart beats a little faster. They've all heard the stories, but no tale could describe such... perfection. Even from this distance there is a sense of wonder, of virtue, of pure goodness. It's white coat glimmers like starlight. It's mane is like silken threads interwoven with gold. The mist on the lake in front of it swirls ever so slightly, as though bowing before the creature's presence.

The unicorn stands perfectly still, silently observing.

     ...

     Mulligan sends that over Group Chat, at a loss of not only words but thoughts.  He briefly considers taking up the banjo again, seeing just how well speaking with animals would work on a unicorn, but he pauses.  Would it be insulted to be considered an animal?

     Would a cloud be insulted to be considered a cloud? he counters himself within his own head.  Still, just the first note could be enough to scare it away.  And aren't they only willing to deal with the purest of pure?  Virgins and the like?

     ...  Maybe G'Reginald should approach it?

Greg holds his knees and breathes fast after the barrier seemingly rushed them forward through space. "Information." He grunts at Mulligan's question. "Here is difficult to get to for a reason, to keep people out. You only try to keep people out of what is in is worth protecting... It's not likely that will is here but something..." He trails off as the unicorn appears. Mind racing, the power that these things contain, the power that his magic could have from the ingredients in this beasts body... No, he shouldn't think of those things, they had a job to do and it was for his benefit, but the itch of greed in the back of his mind remains... "How'd you suppose you get me over to the isle then music man?" He scoffs at Mulligan.

     Can you not swim?

     Mulligan responds, a bit surprised G'ReG is taking his suggestion seriously.  And then another thought occurs.  Mulligan quickly pads himself down, checking his pockets and looking into his pouches.  Finally there is a kind of Ah-Ha! moment and he pulls out a small paper packet.  He has a large smile upon his face.

     Pixie dust!  Won it at the carnival.  I think there's enough for one last use.  Specially for one your size.  Though swimming would, of course, be a less resource depleting alternative.

Rowan waves at the unicorn and says "Hi. Is this your home?"

Perhaps because of the magic of where he finds himself, and without realizing he's doing it, Rowan ends up speaking in Sylvan.

"There's a hag trying to get your horn, so we wanted to make sure you were okay," Rowan says loudly, again in Sylvan. Then he remembers their other mission "And we're looking for Will, of the Wild I think."

He looks over at Greg and Mulligan.

"I think we should be invited first," Rowan says, still speaking in Sylvan.

Before Mulligan has the chance to coat the gnome in pixie dust, the unicorn moves toward them. It takes a moment to register that there is a lake between them and that the creature is cantering on the surface of the water, each step a soft chime like silver on crystal. The mist parts for the unicorn's passage as it approaches and stands before the group.

Greetings and welcome, Bearer-of-the-Sacred. The unicorn's eyes glimmer as she nods her head briefly to Barria, but the voice is heard by all. It is decidedly feminine, and almost angelic, and heard inside the mind in the same way that Mulligan's is.

Greetings and welcome, Wanderer-of-Silent-Paths. Deep green eyes regard Mulligan as the unicorn nods to him.

Greetings, Restless-Seeker-Beyond-Boundaries. The unicorn's ears angle back and her nostrils flare slightly, and Greginald feels a prickle as he gets the sense he is being examined - and judged.

Greetings and welcome to you, Of-Name-Long-Unspoken. The unicorn nods - no, bows - her head to Rowan, with closed eyelids.

What would you will of me?

"well it would certainly be drier for both me and my books you gru.." G'Reg's belligerence toward mulligan is cut off as he quiets with the unicorn's approach. 

He gives a sigh as he starts to feel judged by this legendary and mythical beast, but his ears perk up with interest at the names of the others,

Bearer of the sacred was pretty cut and dry, easy to figure especially as Barria is holding an item which looks strikingly similar to the horn stop this unicorns head.

Wanderer of silent paths, was this unicorn simply making blunt remarks about Mulligan's mutism??

But, Name long unspoken was highly interesting though, Greg had assumed that Rowan was such a common name, after a mountain ash tree which is highly uninteresting unless you are a bird in need of a quick meal. Perhaps this odd man with wild magic in his blood had a secret Fae name, this he decides is worth pursuing, especially after this judgemental creature gives such a respectful bow to the odd man. 

He thinks, and bows to the beast, before angling his answer. "We are on a journey to retrieve that which was stolen from us, on this path we have found that the best way to do this is to rid the lands of the hag blight which has made it's home comfortable on the suffering of others. A blight that has made it's home here, in your land. To do this we require allies and are hunting those that Skabatha has deemed dangerous to her, in hopes that they will be recruited to our cause." 

Though he doesn't specifically ask anything of the creature he hopes that this information will provide some context for what the others may ask.

     Mulligan tosses an amused wink to the unicorn when it calls him "Wanderer of Silent Paths" and kind of lifts his palms a bit in a "what can I say?" kind of gesture.  Otherwise Mulligan watches and waits.  A bit warily.  The titles are interesting but he doesn't put too much thought into them at the moment.  Perhaps later.

     What would we will of it?  It was a good question.  Mulligan thought they were hunting a mountain and got sidetracked and now there's a unicorn...  The Fae surely was unexpected.  He wasn't sure what he should will of it, or even if it was his right to be willing anything.  Mostly he thought they should just let the thing be and not mess with it at all.  Willfully or otherwise. 

     I've actually recovered what was stolen from me already.

     It's kind of a moot point but Mulligan finds himself pointing it out over the Group Chat automatically.

     The best way to recover the items isn't necessarily killing the hags.  It may be what has worked so far but past success does not guarantee future performance.  Just ask my stock broker.

     Again, not totally relevant but Mulligan shared anyway.

     Hunting may not be the best choice of words.  Looking for, perhaps?  I mean we already showed it the trophy taken from one of its kind already.  True it didn't seem particularly bothered but let's not be using words that could suggest we are hunting for more?