As Jahren watches the Captain talk about the squad, it actually becomes clear that hidden beneath his frustration at the chain of command being flaunted, is a certain amount of....pride? Admiration?  A mix of both? It would seem they're perhaps a bit more like the unruly child that you let get away with things because they get the job done.  You can't imagine a commanding officer of such a well managed and organized outfit allowing a squad to run rogue for any other reason. 

With Chen's question, the Captain nods, "I'm afraid so."  He pauses for a few moments.  "They likely have suspicions but no better than to put that in an official report and they haven't enlightened me at all. And to be honest, they haven't returned since that encounter, chasing ghosts all over this damned forest..." he pauses, slightly aghast as he glances towards Toc, "..uh...no offence."  

Toc shrugs, "I'm feeling much the same way these past few months."

The Captain nods in a considerate way, "Anyway, I have a feeling they're on to something, and I'm sure they'll tell me as soon as they have enough. In the meantime, I'm giving them enough leash to roam...and...potentially hang themselves if they're stupid enough about it all."  Something tells you he doubts that last result is likely. 

-------------------

Toc nods to Fianna as they ride, "Hey. I'm much like you. I have little patience for games, subterfuge, or double talk. I say what I think is the truth and if people get offended, they're offended by hearing the truth, not by me. At least that's how I see it. But....I can also understand that not everyone is like me. Which is why we have our companion Jahren here. He is able to speak to people in a way that each individual seems to respond to. Not a skill of mine by any stretch. And, I think, it's already paying us back in spades. So..."  He pulls his horse to a stop. You've ridden about 30 minutes from the camp and Fianna has just led you perhaps for the last 5 minutes down a rutted wagon trail into the wild of the woods, away from the main trade road.  Toc looks about, "If we so desire, Tic can take the horses and get them back to Hillsfar for us, and we can travel by magic to the Elven Court. We may be there earlier than the squad for the meeting, and may end up waiting around, and it will leave us without mounts. Or maybe we meet them early and get vital intel. I have no idea. I feel fates hand resting on us. Or we just ride and maybe get a sense of the forest while we go and let whatever will be, be. What does everyone think?"    

At Toc's mention of fate's hand, Fianna feels almost light headed as she breathes deeply in the scent of Fey that has suddenly burgeoned all around her.  No one else seems to notice.

Loane, your skin prickles at Toc's words...

Mirica, the burning sensation in your chest is suddenly there, like a pulse, it was always there, but your attention to it makes it swoon.

Jahren, too few times in your life do you feel like you have any choice, this moment suddenly seems a crossroads, though you can't say why, or which way you're drawn to. 

Chen, your stomach grumbles. You didn't get any tea or soup back at the camp.

"Get ahead and look around might be a good idea. Getting to see what this regiment is up to - is even better".

     "Yes, if we can get there sooner, that may be for the better..."

Jahren folds his arms at Toc's question while still looking jovial as always and looks about the group, waiting for each person's answer.

"Getting there sooner would prove beneficial." Loane comments. "Figuring out what is, and more importantly what isn't, there can help us. But we're also cutting ourselves off of a quick escape route if it comes to it. It's doubtful we'll need it, but we're better off preparing for the worst in this sort of situation."

Toc turns his head to Loane, "So, Mirica is for magic. Loane, you were as well but....you're suggesting now instead we ride so we can flee if we need to? Just want to make sure I understand which way you're leaning. Anyone else?"

Normally Chen would prefer to take the scenic route, but this is no longer a sightseeing tour, and more important to ensure they are there on time than to risk being delayed en-route.

I agree with getting there sooner. Will we make it in time for lunch, or should we eat first?

"Now THAT is the true question at hand" remarks an amused Jahren.  As most of the party chimes in preferring the quicker, magical route, Jahren then nods at Toc with a smile.  "I believe they have chosen."

"If everyone wishes for magical travel, then we will go that way. I just prefer having a plan. Though we seem to be doing fine so far."

Toc nods, "Very well. I will be teleporting us to a tower 10 miles from the ruins of the city proper, and within the boundary of the dark woods. It's the closets safe location I know. We must limit our time within the city limits which you'll know when we find it. There is a drow curse upon the place that affects all water. Our water will grow dark over the period of a day and becomes mildly poisonous. It takes roughly as long for poisonous water to lose the curse once taken away from the ruins. Effects of the old elven magic is still present. Any arrow or stone flung or shot are pulled into the air, and flung to the city boundaries. You'll see piles of stones and arrows on the ground where the effect begins. Otherwise, the ruins and this region of the forest are dangerous, filled with beasts and plants, and all sorts of monsters, all of which will try to kill us. Be on your guard." 

He turns to Tic and the two have a private magical chat for a few moments before Tic begins stringing the horses together.  The rest of the group dismount and grabs equipment from saddle bags and repacks their gear into backpacks. There's several minutes of preparation. Eventually Toc summons everyone close.  He turns to Tic who now stands by himself with a long line of ponies.  "See you soon." 

Toc, "Everyone, please, come stand within 10 feet of me.  Prepare yourselves. Zeulastonis cath'mor rigulas!" 

The world twists and warps around you all sucking you into a momentary vortex.  In the forest where several people once stood, it's silent and quiet. Several blades of grass crushed to the ground, spring up. Tic glances at the empty space for a moment and then turns away on his horse, leading the string of ponies back down the road. 

The world around you explodes into existence and you feel your stomach untwist from a tiny ball into it's normal self with a bubbly glurg.  And then you're falling. What used to be an elven platform up in the trees seems to have rotted and collapsed. Several tresses stretch between tree limbs and massive trunks wider than a wagon, but the floor is gone and collapsed far below, perhaps a hundred feet.  

Everyone has 1 action and 1 reaction before you hit the ground (not a full round, so either a bonus action or an action, but not both, and 1 reaction). Let me know what you do. 

 (Attention! I invoke the right of the first poster! :) )

Hundred feet probably would not outright kill any of them, but Mirica was never keen to such experiments. Thoght, the only thing she could come up with, was an absolute emergency one. She raised a small rod, normally peacefully hanging from her belt, and whispered activation word.

Rod of Security

The whole group suddenly found itself on the shore of the forest lake with a crystal clean water. It seems to be the early summer, and the pine forest is full of sunbeams, bird's chirping, faint warm breeze and fresh woody smells. The serene peace and beauty of the place evoke only one wish - to sit (or better yet - lay down) here, relax and forget about any problem there is.

Mirica stood up and removed a few grass-blades stuck on her sleeve. "Welcome to my "happy place". Please do not move anything around here" She smiled and looked around. "The cabin is that way," she pointed along the shores, where the barely visible dirt path, decorated with outgrown roots and wildflowers indeed lead to the wooden hose, hidden among the trees, "there has to be some food too."

Even the usually calm Jahren feels his stomach lurch as they are suddenly falling.  Quickly gathering himself, he prepares to take action but then is suddenly in yet another place, the shore of a lake.  Smiling at Mirica, Jahren stands and says "very nice, and thank you."  Taking another moment to consider he asks the cleric "when we're ready, how do we get back, and will we be in exactly the same spot?"  The half-elf means to be asking if they'll still be falling.  "As tempting as this place, and some food, may be, will time spent here delay us on our current mission?"

     Fianna handles the elf's teleportation much better this time, knowing it is coming makes for a much better trip.  Until the falling part.  That was not planned at all!

     "What the elvish fu..." Fianna screams out as she finds herself plummeting.  But there is no time for that so she cuts herself short and starts a casting, looking around at the others trying to determine who else she should give the ability to fl...

     "...ck?!?!" Fianna finished after all, suddenly finding herself in a forest by a lake?!?

     "Hey guys?  I think I like it better when Orcs are trying to kill me than this teleportation bouncy game y'all have concocted!" Fianna is quite relieved in actuality but nonetheless a bit discombobulated.  She listens intently to Jahren question Mirica and the reply she gives then offers up that if there is still falling to be done that two of the group (plus Fianna herself) can be given the ability to fly and avoid the swooshing down to earth unabated bit...

With the same impact of having fallen out of a chair at a dinner table, the group lands heavily on their butts in the dry soft sand beside the lake. The serene beauty of this place tugs at your hearts and a feeling of wistfulness and nostalgia for perhaps a simpler time. The air is cool, but not cold, blowing oh so gently. Clouds as white as snow drift lazily across the sky. 

Toc picks himself up, dusting sand off of his cloak and pants, "I'm very sorry for that. It would seem it's been longer than I remember since I'd been back there. The watch platform must have collapsed. It wouldn't normally happen, but in the dark woods, the curses and dark energy from the drow and duergar invasion seems to affect even elven construction."   He glances around at the lake, sky, trees, and over towards the cabin. "Lovely place, I strongly approve of your happy place Mirica. I have the same questions as Jahren."

Mirica confirms, time passes normally here and in the outside world. You will all be returned into the mid-air exactly where you left. When we're ready, Mirica must cancel the effect, though you can all stay here for up to a month if need be. 

Toc speaks, "I can cast a web spell that should soften our fall sufficiently to prevent serious harm. Otherwise, I can cast a feather fall spell on one person and another spell on myself before we plummet...but that only takes care of two of us." 

"Don't expend any extra energy on me, I'll be fine."  Jahren reaches over his back and pulls what looks like a mundane bed roll or something of the sort.

"Well..." Mirica was continuing thinking out loud, "technically you can return near the point you were before you enter (since it was me wishing us here - it just my wish to return, Jahren) and I think I remember the forest floor well enough to get us there, but have to confess - never used the rod this way before. We might as well find ourselves still falling. Though, this time - prepared. How about we rest a bit - I can hear Chen's stomach grumbling from here - and make up some rescue plan? May be a feather fall and a few ropes for others?"

She made a few steps towards the cabin: "We can return right away, of course, if you so wish."

"If we want to use ropes, I have 100 feet of it overall, split between two kinds. For when we eventually leave." Loane comments.  "Not much of a spellslinger like some of you. So outside of being quick on my feet, there's not too much that I can provide."

Jahren shrugs and says "I wouldn't deny my friend here a meal, and what better place for it?"

"You can join up with me if you like, Loane."  Jahren pats the roll from his pack.  "You'll just have to trust me."  He smiles and winks at Loane.

"It would be rude to decline the offer." Loane comments, a bit looser than her usual way of speaking. Must be her form of a joke. She strides over to join Jahren, sitting down on the beach.

The group takes a break from "plummeting from the tree tops" in order to have lunch. 

The smell of cooking food draws you away from the beach and towards the small log cabin. As you arrive at the quaint log cabin and move in through it's front door you find yourself in a much larger space, a lovely, well appointed cabin. Windows peer out into the forests on all sides. A large section is open to the 2nd floor where a balcony looks down to the lower floor. Windows fill the front wall in a configuration and size that doesn't match what was seen from the outside, and offers a spectacular view of the mountains and forest.  To one side a smorgasbord is laid out, apparently set with all manner of food that appears to have been freshly made and is still steaming and in some cases sizzling.  Bowls of fruit, platters of cheese, bovine steaks cooked to various done'ness, a roasted turkey, gravy potatoes. All of the fare seems to be things you might find in the forest, but it is available aplenty.  Chen practically swoons, unable to decide where to begin, though the rich tomato soup with big chunks of potato and carrots, along with twirled pasta seems perhaps the most natural start. 

There are various places to sit and eat upon the well crafted wooden plates, benches, window seats, and a couple small tables. Homey blankets and quilting fill the space in here in addition to several bedrooms with soft looking beds.  You can also opt to take your food outside and sit on the beach enjoying your food.  Just outside out the back door you find a patio of flat laid stones that leads to a natural hot spring, bubbling out of the ground and providing a large warm pool of moving water in which to rest or clean.