As the squirrel gives chase, G'Reg wastes no time in trying to direct the mundane questions in his favour as smoothly as possible. "Anyway, I've been told that sometimes the price of admission comes with a little extra, some pumpkin heads and some memory reallocation, all fun and games I'm sure. What would gleam's job be in regard to the patron's that she is assigned?"

Northwind stops short and is silent for a moment, confused. When he does start talking, it's slow at first, but he soon returns to his rambling chatter:

Ah... okay, so like... I think Nikolas Midnight sometimes makes these sketchy fey pacts instead of, y’know, them actually paying for a ticket or whatever... But Gleam? Yeah, she used to be an acrobat — like, seriously good. Her and her twin brother, Glister, were this total power duo. "The Selene..." The Selion..." No clue, it’s been a while. Anyway, we don’t really see them anymore. Like, Glister's straight-up vanished and Gleam? Only her shadow shows up now, which is lowkey creepy. So no, she’s not working here, and like how do you even assign a shadow?? LOL. But it’s definitely her shadow. You can just tell. Mister Witch and Mister Light get super touchy when you bring her up though. Like, major bad vibes. They’re already in a mood all the time, but this is extra. And I don’t think it’s because they’re sad about the old carnival. Honestly? I don’t even think they want to go back.

The weasel is out of sight, but Greginald can see the squirrel has stopped some distance away. It is certainly out of earshot, but is looking back at the conversing pair suspiciously...

     A dwarf?  This doesn't vibe with any of the thieves he's been given a heads up on but it is a curious thing.  Mulligan does his best to observe this dwarf stealthily from a distance to try to figure out if they're a part of something or just some individual trouble maker...

Stealth: 22

"That was quite clever. It sounds a little like the carnival. But is Prismeer a name for the carnival or one of these lands you've been to for lute strings? And Zybilna, well that's a fun name to say. Zybilna. She trades for -" Rowan stops talking when he opens his eyes and notices he's all alone.

"Hmm. Gone before I can ask if Zybilna might be the shape changer causing mischief in the faire."

He strums his lute a few more times then decides to leave the orchard and look for something to do until the big extravaganza. He really wished he could remember when it was. The nice goblin, Nikolas Midnight did tell him. Maybe it really was his inability to pay attention to anything for too long that caused time to run differently for Rowan. What did Mr Midnight say? Nilbog o'clock? No, that didn't make sense, and he was pretty sure nilbog wasn't a standard time. Midnight, midnight, midnight.

Rowan smacks his hand against his forehead and laughs loudly.

"Midnight, of course." Rowan says proudly, looking around but still seeing no one. Then he sighs. "I wonder when it will be midnight."

He looks at the map again and starts heading towards the Big Top. He'd just find something to do near there until he got a sense of the time.

"I wonder what a calliope is?" Rowan muses and then heads in that direction to find out, still strumming on his lute as he goes.

The shapeshifter-as-dwarf moves steadily through the crowd, with greater agility than would be expected from such a stocky race. Mulligan follows from a distance, watching as the prankster makes simple mischief along the way, such as knocking food and drink from people's hands, tripping patrons and causing them to stumble, or simply heckling them with an odd-sounding young-human-male voice. The creature appears to have some magical talent, as it stops occasionally to disrupt sideshows with simple cantrips: creating extra illusory targets, knocking pins over with a conjured hand, and so on.

Mulligan follows the creature all the way to the northern-most point of the carnival, an area marked on the map as Silversong Lake. Enormous swans glide through the water here, pulling ornate wooden gondolas draped in flowers, which depart from a small jetty. Mist gathers at the banks of the shimmering lake, at the center of which a mermaid lounges in a giant bowl, singing a glorious, haunting song that captivates spectators on the lakeshore. In response to the song, the lake water coalesces into magical sculptures that whirl around her as she performs. It is an enchanting performance indeed, and the onlookers are enthralled and delighted.

The dwarf-creature stops for a few moments amidst the crowd, watching and listening to the mermaid's song. Suddenly a voice blasts out over the music, unnaturally loud. It is the same voice Mulligan has heard from the dwarf, like that of a young man, but it booms over the crowd:

Ha! You sound like a rooster with a sore throat! Haha!

The mermaid's song falters, and a wave of discontent ripples through the crowd, souring the mood. The dwarf pushes his way through the crowd a short distance and stops again. With a slight waver in her voice, the mermaid recovers and picks up the song again, but almost immediately the voice blasts out again:

Not again! My ears are still bleeding from last time, you old banshee!

This time the mermaid claps one hand over her mouth, and the song ceases again. The crowd is more disturbed before, and there are shouts of anger as people look around for the source of the heckling. The dwarf moves once more before issuing a third insult:

Thanks the gods, it's stopped. I thought someone was squashing hellcats around here!

The mermaid can take no more of the abuse, and with a wail of dismay she leaps out of the water bowl, splashes into the lake, and swims away to the south. A groan of disappointment goes up from the crowd and they start to disperse, while Mulligan hear that the music of the distant calliope has taken on a decidedly more mournful tone. With a puff that leaves black feathers floating to the ground, the dwarf vanishes and is replaced with the figure of a slender female elf - identical to someone Mulligan has seen in the crowd.

Leaving the Orchard, Rowan makes his way across a small bridge toward an area labelled on the map as "Silversong Lake". Enormous swans glide through the water here, pulling ornate wooden gondolas draped in flowers, which depart from a small jetty, where guests line up to board the gondolas. Mist gathers at the banks of the shimmering lake, at the center of which a mermaid lounges in a giant bowl, singing a glorious, haunting song that captivates spectators on the lakeshore. In response to the song, the lake water coalesces into magical sculptures that whirl around her as she performs. It is an enchanting performance indeed, and the onlookers are enthralled and delighted.

Suddenly a voice blasts out over the music, unnaturally loud, booming over the crowd:

Ha! You sound like a rooster with a sore throat! Haha!

The mermaid's song falters, and a wave of discontent ripples through the crowd, souring the mood. With a slight waver in her voice, the mermaid recovers and picks up the song again, but almost immediately the voice blasts out again:

Not again! My ears are still bleeding from last time, you old banshee!

This time the mermaid claps one hand over her mouth, and the song ceases again. The crowd is more disturbed before, and there are shouts of anger as people look around for the source of the heckling. Before the mermaid has a chance to recover again, a third insult blasts out:

Thanks the gods, it's stopped. I thought someone was squashing hellcats around here!

The mermaid can take no more of the abuse, and with a wail of dismay she leaps out of the water bowl, splashes into the lake, and swims away to the south. A groan of disappointment goes up from the crowd and they start to disperse.

G'reg thinks for a moment before just going for it as he sees the squirrel hesitating. "Could it be selune siblings or something along those lines? Sylvan perhaps? Also can you tell me what the old carnival was like?"

Northwind seems to get the gist, and enjoys spouting secrets when given the chance, so he talks even quicker. G'Reginald wonders momentarily if the treant is still speaking Common, but manages to make sense of it:

Yeah, I think it was like… Sella Nella Lion? Or something that sounds cool but no one can actually say right. Anyway, Witch and Light are from the freakin’ Shadowfell, dude, so their old carnival? Total emo aesthetic. Dark, depressing, probably smelled like sadness. I heard there’s this deal that if their old carnival ever crosses paths with this one again, they’ve gotta do a full-on trade — like switch back. No take-backsies, I guess. Kinda makes you wonder how Isolde’s doing, right? She was our old boss. Now she’s the one running the shadow carnival. Hope she’s cool with all that spooky gloom. Or, y’know, not losing her mind.

By now the squirrel minder has returned, and caught the last of the conversation. With an ever more rapid speech, but much higher-pitched, it blurts out to Northwind:

Who's-losing-their-mind-What-are-you-two-talking-about-You-know-you-can't-keep-secrets-Northwind-You-better-watch-what-you-say-or-the-bosses-will-put-us-on-latrine-duty(then-to-Greginald)As-for-you-buster-you-better-not-be-up-to-no-good-or-you'll-have-me-to-answer-to-that's-right-they-call-me-Red-but-you-can-call-me-mister-Red-or-sir-and-if-you-or-anyone-else-gets-up-to-any-mischief-it'll-be-the-old-one-two-Bam-Pow-that's-what-no-one-messes-with-the-carnival-on-my-watch(then-to-Northwind-again)now-we-have-work-to-do-so-let's-get-back-to-it(then-back-to-Greg)so-forget-about-shadows-and-all-that-its-none-of-your-business-that's-what-it-is.

And with that Red the squirrel scurries back up into the treant's branches.

Just chill, Red, says Northwind lazily. I'm like ten percent chlorophyll and ninety percent vibes...

with the information dump spinning wild theories in G'reg's head he more or less ignores the rapid tirade of warnings from Red and instead holds out a fist for Northwind to bump, "you've been real helpful man, stay righteous." And then squints his eyes at red, crouching his gnomish frame down even lower to talk to red in a conspiratorial tone. "Red... if Witch and Light wanted these things to remain secrets, they wouldn't involve others in their business... They sound like people who have eyes and ears everywhere right? and that being true would mean you should likely watch your tone with people you don't know, because you have no idea just how involved they really are... Take a leaf from Northwind's playbook, and chill. There are worse things than toilet duty. Now show me to a dragonfly, I feel like a ride" and with that vague and meandering threat, Greg produces his ticket and follows whoever it is who gets him seated on the ride.

Barria stares at the goblin as his words twist and twirl in her mind getting all conjumbled.  The only thing that sticks is what she asks, "Who is Nicolas Midnight?" and then to cap it all off, she puts the cookie she has back in her pack, and takes one off the offered plate.  Holding it up like an toast she remarks, "Time to let loose!" and she eats it.  another one.

"I think I would like a ride in a bubble." she says as she chews the cookie.

     Did the Calliope react to this guy?  This changeling?  Mulligan wonders as he strives to keep an eye on his target.  He sort of recalled it changing earlier...  He didn't much note exactly when, during the Halfling Problem, he assumes.  Which this guy wasn't a part of, far as Mulligan knows...  So maybe the Calliope is just a coincidence then.  Or maybe it's reacting to the crowd in general?  The mood of the guests?

     Interesting, but ultimately not his problem, Mulligan decides.  His problem, or at least the problem he decided to make his, is the changeling themself.  Maybe solving that will do something for the Calliope.  Maybe not.  But what to do, what to do?

     Mulligan aims to stay within thirty feet or so of this person, never losing sight of them so that they don't lose them if/when they change their appearance again.  Still, he tries to keep himself hidden, or at least not stand out as watching them or taking any note of them at all.  

     What you doing?

     The words appear in the shapeshifter's head.  Flat. Cold. Emotionless and with any lack of tone or even curiosity.  Just the words.  

     Why you doing it?

     Again, as always, the words have only the tone and emotion put upon them by the target, as if they were reading words out of context of the rest of the book.  Unfortunately Mulligan cannot hear any reply they make, even if they make one, unless it is done aloud and he is close enough to hear it.  For now he thinks stealth is still probably the way to go.

     I am looking for thieves.  Are you one of them?  Helping them?

     Mulligan considers delving into their mind and trying to see what is in there but such puts a lot of strain on him and he can only do it once a day... This trouble maker could have nothing to do with what he is really interested in so probably best to hold back.  At least for now.  (Does get Detect Thoughts once a day... but not yet.)

     You are upsetting people.  Upsetting the Calliope.  This makes my investigation harder.  Makes me unhappy.

     Though it does occur to Mulligan that whether they find his words in their head disturbing or not this kind of one way attempt at interrogation is kind of pointless.  He may need to make his presence known if he wants more from this changeling...