Meanwhile, in the Westwoods...

((The dimensions of the portable dungeon are also in the DM notes at the bottom. https://www.dndbeyond.com/campaigns/786050 ))

Del quotes M's reply to everyone heaving the biggest sigh of relief he's heaved in years. 25 word communication on the fly is hard, but it sounds like Lord Mindartis is hiding out near the gingerbread house, having observed the owners unhappy about our little visit. Or maybe he was there and is somewhere else. Not clear why he hasn't returned - and he seems unclear about where those 3 or 4 people went 'a couple days away'. This spell is the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Answering Q I think removing sugar would be a good idea, I think dissolving it is the least risky Let me help too. What I worry about with the tin box is that abjuration is keeping something dangerous in rather than us out. I just wish I understood more. But I am happy to entertain ideas

Del reflects further Or perhaps our Feylord is a couple days away, like where we arrived in the fens, the hoop having worked as I guessed right before he left. I cannot conjure long enough to go fetch him or we could be reunited in a few hours - if my second guess is better than my first, and we did not miss each other for the forest.

Hoping this guess is better than the first, Del works on cleaning the cubes off the crystalized with Q, discussing our latest spells or whatever

"I think we should get it out regardless. If it's dangerous well....we know some powerful wizards who could give us advise on what to do. I mean.....if I can collect enough gold there is a very powerful safety spell I'm thinking of learning and we can keep it there."

So should we wait until we have that advice - or get it out now and hope we can last until we get advice? If we agree to going now, I'll try Dispel Magic but we should be all ready, and away from the civilians. We may be amateurs but we shouldn't be foolhardy. I just have this vision that the box contains the multiverse we live in. And another that it is something useful we'll regret delaying. And a third that it is the soul of Auntie and we'll win when it is opened.

"I think we need to try it now. They can't really give advice if they don't know what's inside. They would say to try and open it but be safe. I could make my magical hut to try and contain it within the hut to be safe." 

The lore I know, Leomund's is not a great container - I'd say we should just be ready to attack if something bad comes out. Say 60 feet back and ready? Let's get Sir Elwin and Sister Raven too. Hopefully they will laugh at how over-cautious we've been

If we all agree, and when ready, Del will cast Dispel Magic at the tin box from 60 feet away

"Do we need to go and meet up with him?"  Raven asks as news of the communication with their lost companion is shared.  "He might have trouble crossing the river otherwise..."

As you all wait with baited breath and drawn weapons, prepared for anything, Del casts Dispel Magic.  The constraining spell releases, and the tin box is torn apart as the trapped explosion is released from within!!

Being 60 feet away is NOT NEARLY FAR ENOUGH to save you from hearing the tiny, anti-climactic 'pop.' Sharp pieces of shrapnel are hurled inches away in every direction!

((In centuries past, unknown to the adventurers, the blood chest was once owned by a cranky wizard.  His wise-ass apprentices were always 'borrowing' his expensive inks, sneaking into his liquor cabinet, and poking around in his spell scrolls.  Fed up with this, and with the fact that the apprentices got through all his locks with combinations of 'Dispel Magic' and 'Identify,' the wizard crafted a fiendish trap: he placed a small, time-halted explosion inside a box, bound there with abjuration magic, and placed two fragile bottles of poisonous knock-out gas beside them. If anyone were to try and dispel the magic on the box, the explosion would break free with just enough force to shatter the bottles without damaging the actual contents of the chest, teaching the thieves --or apprentices--a bitter lesson.  To the old wizard's disappointment, the box changed hands without his ever seeing the trap tripped.))

((And honestly, I never thought the tin detonator would become such an object of interest, XD  Sorry!))

"Well that was the most anticlimactic thing that I have ever witnessed in my life." Quentin comments saying, "I really thought there was like....a spell scroll or some magical artifact in there." 

Elwin nodded. "I was also certain it was something of import. Ah well."

 At least the drizzling rain helps to melt away the sugar shells of the Barleyman victims.  Within a few hours, a few noses and feet are starting to poke out form their sugar coffins, though they feel hard and smooth, as if coated in shellac.

Around noon, you see some people approaching the farm.  You recognize one of the two white-robed figures as the little old High Druid, and the other as his red-haired attendant, holding an umbrella over the ancient elf's head.  They are accompanied by a pair of the Lomalos King's Guard.

"Welcome to my father's home."  Raven speaks up, walking to meet them, the rain quickly soaking into her black hair and running over her studded leather armor.  "I assume you wish to take care of the prince first."  She then leads them directly to where the prince is.

 High Druid Talos Vithan waves to you and walks across the yard, all the farm birds and barn cats running to cluster around him.  He goes to the Prince and prods him a few times, to see if enough of the sugar has been removed. Then he casts Greater Restoration.  The frozen, shellacked expression on the Prince's face softens, and he staggers to his feet, sugar flaking off his clothes, hair and skin, coughing and spitting out syrup.

"Good to see you again, Your Highness," the old druid says cheerfully, smacking him on the back. "You should feel better after a hot bath and a cup of tea. And it looks as if we've arrived just in time for lunch, too. What is for lunch?  I hope there aren't too many of us.  Speaking of which, i brought some friends...they will be delighted to see you again."  Taking a bag off his shoulder, he leans down and opens the flap to let five large mice run out. 

The largest, a grey one with spatters of black and spots of white,, runs to Elwin and sits on his shoe possessively.  A quick dark brown mouse zips to Raven's feet and runs circles around her.  A golden mouse runs, squeaking, to Del, standing on its hind legs and looking up happily, bouncing in a friendly way. A black mouse with white spots splashes through a mud puddle and excitedly scurries up to Quentin's shoulder, leaving an uncanny amount of mud spattered on his clothes. A lonely-looking red and white mouse looks around the farmyard dejectedly.  The High Druid squats down and squeaks to it and its ears prick up immediately, and it races off through the grass to the south, a couple of farm cats looking after it wistfully, but not chasing.

"Now, then, about lunch," says the High Druid, turning toward the house. "I hope it isn't oat porrdge. I had oat porridge for breakfast. And yesterday.  And the day before.  Everyone seems determined to feed me oat porridge..."

"Um, what is up with the mouse, or mice I should say?"  raven asks, looking at the one by her, and putting a hand down, palm-up, for it to climb onto if it wishes.

Alcari, good girl. Del greets his mount And I guess, Holiness, that Caizana's running off means you know Lord Mindartis is in reach? Will he come riding in, or carrying his horse do you think?

Elwin stared down at the mouse for a second, slowly recognizing the colored patterns. "Oroman?" Then he broke into a grin. "It is you! What...? How...? Aw, whatever!" He bent down to pickup the mouse, stroking him gently as he did so.

Quentin didn’t care about the mouse or the mud in the moment surging forward instead to pull the now revived prince into a tight hug saying, “You’re awake......you’re....you’re finally awake.” His breath maybe a bit shaky as he holds back just a little from showing too many emotions. 

Still blinking sugar out of his eyes, Prince Lintelér says, "Lord Quentin?  What happened?"

The High Druid's voice calls from inside the house, "I wouldn't keep that mouse on your shoulder much longer, young Adiyodi...."

The four mice start to twitch...and grow....

Panicking Quentin quickly picks up the mouse and puts it on the ground before it grows into a horse and kills him, watching it grow before answering the Prince, “It’s a long story. I can tell you all about it over some food.”