"Absolutely not," Astraden replies, pulling Cuetzpalli inside.
At the front desk, she asks, "Excuse me, do you have any idea what this piece of cloth came from?"
"Huh? What's it say?" Tanith says after he touches himself with the wand.
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"And do you have enough of it lying around that you could make a waistcoat out of it?" Eben pipes up from behind Astraden.
"It says that Filge got jumped by 'the Kettite' and 'the fat one'. He got the fat one, but the Kettite escaped." Carina swallows. "The fat one changed back to his natural form when Filge took him out."
"He thinks it was a doppelganger that attacked him." She nervously fingers her crossbow.
"Absolutely not," Astraden replies, pulling Cuetzpalli inside.
At the front desk, she asks, "Excuse me, do you have any idea what this piece of cloth came from?"
The young gnome shopkeeper quirks an eyebrow. She takes the cloth from Astraden, examining it with a magnifying glass. "Pick stitch. Special Hue #21. Yes, this looks like it came from one of my items." She considers it a moment. She starts to speak, but is interrupted by a shout from outside.
"...hear the doom that builds before your blind eyes! The end draws near! The Age of Worms—"
The gnome's eyes flash with annoyance, and she reaches over and slams the window shut.
"I think it's likely from one of my robe of useful's," she says. "I deal in magic cloth. It wouldn't rip off like this unless it was supposed to."
"Damn", the big man says. "We've got to get to him first. He might be willing to hand over Smenk if we can protect him from these face-stealers."
Eben sighs a little and gets serious. "Any way of telling exactly what kind of patch it was before getting ripped off? What it turned into?"
"Maybe it was a snorkel, so he could swim?"
"Well, let me check my stores." The gnome hops off her stool and scampers off among the shelves. The adventurers hear her muttering to herself as she searches.
A minute later, she returns with a large silk robe. Although this robe is very patched up, the patches are made out of high-quality cloth and seem almost decorative.
She lays the robe on the desk and points to a few patches on it, grinning. They're of the same material as the cloth square Cuetzpalli found. "I use that sort of patch to summon three items, generally: Silver coffer and mirror are constants, but when there's a boat in the robe...well, this is the patch I like to use. It's a nice magic-friendly material."
"Hm . . . we didn't see sign of a boat. Thank you nonetheless, ma'am," says Astraden, leaving a silver on the counter.
Outside the shop, Astraden listens closer to the ranting man. When he stops for breath, she waves. "Hey, you're not all wrong, you know. There are way more worms than there should be."
Upon exiting the shop, the group is confronted with a concerning sight. It appears that the old doomsayer has singled Spiny out. He stands roughly ten feet away, shouting at the increasingly irritated beast.
"You! Have you not heard the dead dragons roar? Have you not dreamt of the worm that walks, bringing decay to all he touches? Have you not felt his harbingers crawling beneath your flesh?" He shakes his fist at Spiny. "I see them in your future, wordless wyrm!"
Carina gathers up the letter and nods. "And if they're going around disguised as us, then that means they already know who we are. I think we're in deep trouble..."
She pauses, looking at the chest. "Think we should open that or just get a move on?"
Tanith nods in return. ”Leave it. We should find the others.”
"Hey, leave Spiny alone! We've never even met a dragon."
Carina starts heading out, taking Tanith by the hand and leading him away. She keeps one hand on her crossbow in case trouble happens.
On their way out of the River District, Tanith and Carina notice a dead horse by the side of the road. Its owner looks absolutely distraught. That said, nothing in particular distinguishes it from the rest of the River District, a place full of cutthroats and the unlucky victims of said cutthroats.
It takes her a moment to recognize the horse, but once she does she's sure: It's identical to Quincely. Robin O'Haranson's first horse.
Before Carina's eyes, the horse starts to get to its feet. It's alive after all, it seems, though it moves jerkily—almost puppet-like. Nobody else reacts as the creature gets to its feet and turns to face Carina.
Its eyes begin to take on a sickly yellow light. It advances on Carina.
"Did you forget about me, sis?" the horse whispers in Carina's own voice, its flesh rotting away before her eyes, lips decaying to show sharp yellowing teeth. Its breath reeks of carrion as it gives a familiar wheeze, a few green worms spilling from its rotting mouth.
"Hey, leave Spiny alone! We've never even met a dragon."
The man whirls on the rest of the adventurers, directing his ravings at each of them in turn. "You! You, hiding behind your mask like it can protect you. The worm that walks cares not for faces! And you, Olman, do you think slashing your own skin for the glory of your god will bring you security? It won't! And you! That shield may look like a dinosaur skull, but it will not protect you from...!" He rounds on Eben, glaring at the bard. "And you! You, you...you..." He trails off.
After a moment, the doomsayer tilts his head. "I beg your pardon, what was I saying?"
Carina blinks. Then pales. "Quincely...?"
Then the horse... talks. Its eyes glow in a familiar way. Her voice. My voice.
"Nope. Nope. Nope. NopeNopeNopeNopeNope." She takes Tanith's hand and leads him further away from the... horse. She's practically tripping over herself getting away.
No. It's not her. It's not her. It's not her. I don't know what the f!@$ is going on, but it's not her. It can't be. It can't be.
"Probably something about his fixation on hygiene," Astraden says, looking the man over.
The shopkeeper is willing to design an original ensemble for Eben, calling him, "a delightful model." Using a spell Eben doesn't recognize, she captures an image of him and files it away. She promises to have the outfit delivered to the Crooked House in a week's time, charging fifty gold orbs for the work.
Carina blinks. Then pales. "Quincely...?"
Then the horse... talks. Its eyes glow in a familiar way. Her voice. My voice.
"Nope. Nope. Nope. NopeNopeNopeNopeNope." She takes Tanith's hand and leads him further away from the... horse. She's practically tripping over herself getting away.
No. It's not her. It's not her. It's not her. I don't know what the f+&+ is going on, but it's not her. It can't be. It can't be.
Tanith doesn't see what has Carina so upset, though he does vaguely recognize the name "Quincely".
"Probably something about his fixation on hygiene," Astraden says, looking the man over.
[dice=Sense Motive for a hunch]1d20+3
"Er...yes. That must have been it." The madman frowns. "He is a very nice-smelling man..."
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"Heeeey...my shield will protect me from anything."
"Don't listen to him, shield, he doesn't know what he's talking about." he whispers.
Astraden steps to the back of the group and quietly casts a spell, concentrating on the man's personage.
Even though he's oblivious on the why, Tanith follows Carina's panicked lead.
"What's going on Red? I haven't seen you like this since the worms. And who's Quincely?"
"IT'S NOT HER!" Carina blurts out before clapping a hand over her mouth.
"*ahem* Quincely... Quincely was Robin's old horse. It got up and... started talking to me. With my voice. It asked if I missed her and called me 'sis'." She babbles, her panic getting worse.
"Are you sure Red? I just saw a dead horse."
Tanith puts a brawny arm around Carina's shoulders to steady her.
"You think someone might be working some kind of spell on you?"
Tanith's words make Carina come to a dead stop.
"...what?" She swallows and takes another breath, trying to calm down. Tanith's arm around her seems to help.
"...I don't know." She looks down at the road as she starts walking with the Kordite. "I thought she was gone forever..."
Astraden nudges Farrukh. "He's got some kind of aura on him. Might be magical confusion. What do you think?"
”Come on Red, try to shake it off - She is gone."
Tanith looks around for a tail.
"It’s early but we should try to find the others. By Kord I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Farrukh cocks his head to the side and studies the man closely.
"Not sure. Let me take a look."
Carina takes a shuddering breath and nods.
"Maybe it won't be that hard--we just need to ask around about a group of people with a dinosaur..."
Sense Enchantment: You can tell that someone's behavior is being influenced by an enchantment effect even if that person isn't aware of it. The usual DC is 25, but if the target is dominated (see dominate person), the DC is only 15 because of the limited range of the target's activities.
Back in the shop, Eben happily forks over the 50 gold for a new ensemble.
He gives a start at the madman's accosting him, and pauses, eyes narrowed, for a long moment. Then he smiles. "If the nutter can't think of anything bad to say about me, does that mean I win?" he says to the group in a stage whisper. "Well, he can't be that confused, he said I smell nice! And I do, it's my own proprietorial mix of herbs and wood shavings in with a daily casting of prestidigitation."
Nevertheless, he takes a long hard look at the man alongside of Farrukh.
[dice=Sense Motive (if you'd allow me to re-try and roll)]1d20+10
"You talk like this guy we know," Astraden tells the man. "You're not a druid though, are you?"
Cuetzpalli moves over to calm Spiny as the others deal with the madman. A boat eh...makes sense why they were going to the river. What's downriver from here?
"Hey guys, not to interrupt your therapy session, but I just had a thought. Maybe we should get a boat and go downriver from where we found the cloth. We might find where they were going. If it was just a rowboat or whatever, they can't have gone too far."
"That's a good idea, Cuetz."
The man—called, it turns out, the "Rain Barrel Man" by the rest of the neighborhood—frowns. He draws himself up straight. "I am not a druid. I am Bigbynkainen, great wyrm of the Tangles! Er...no, that's not right..."
After a moment's thought, he nods decisively. "Yes. I am the druid."
Regardless, the group is able to follow Cuetzpalli's idea. Following the Millsteam north, they enter the Foreign District and come to a fork in the stream. The diverging end shortly goes underground, while the main flow continues northeastward towards Clerksburg.
There are no boats in the area.
Carina asks around for the whereabouts of a group of adventurers with a dinosaur, clearly still shaken from what happened.
She manages to find out where the group is, and rejoins them with Tanith in tow halfway to their destination.
When she arrives, she looks like she's seen a ghost. "Guys! Guys!"
"Ouuerh?" Cuetzpalli grunts at Carina, wondering what has her so upset.
Astraden stops and waves. "Hey, what's up? You guys find Filge and Smenk?"
"Well, there WAS a boat here..." Farrukh begins, when Carina walks up.
"Um...what happened to you? You look terrible."
"Huh, there was? I'll take your word for it..." Eben replies, scanning around the muddy banks himself. He looks up at Tanith and Carina's arrival. "Oh, hey, the gang's all back together. So, looks like our guy used a magic one-shot boat to make a getaway down the river here. Any better luck with you two?"
"Yeah, but the current would direct anything unmanned into this spot. Weird."
Cuetzpalli looks around for any sets of tracks.