"Excellent! It shall be a grand time! A grand meal," Rundahlrombdree rumbles in delight. He begins talking to the other fey in the forest and platters of food begin to appear from seemingly nowhere.
The woman hugging Mark looks around embarrassed for a moment before introducing herself.
"I am Mark's wife, Anya. I'd be happy to tell you all about what happened over supper, but I think a certain girl has been missing her daddy," she says before turning back to the grove and calling, "Aria! Come here! There's someone here to see you!"
From the trees comes a young girl of about ten or eleven whose eyes light up as she spies Mark and comes charging up with enough force to knock the stunned wizard over.
"DADDY!"
Elandria sniffles as she squeezes Teegor's arm and smiles, and many of the fairies harassing her and Teegor turn their attention to the family reunion going on.
and the GM is frustrated that he can't seem to get the words to do this justice to flow. :grumpyface_here:
Sorry for the lack of posting last night. I didn't have time due to having to work late.
Corso stands there for a while, until he comes to grip with the fact that they fey just ignored him. He gives the birds in the tree a knowing shrug and approaches the feast, filling his pockets with seed-like food, under the hullulating looks of his flock.
Oh no, I am so sorry Corso! I didn't mean to forget about that.
While all of this touchy feely stuff has been happening, Corso has been mostly ignored.
Or so it seems.
Out of nowhere dozens of fairies glomp the druid and nearly take him to the ground, but he stands tall as he turns into multi-colored, glowing, approximation of a man.
I remember wanting to do that, but now I can't remember why. Oh well.
If things were crazy before, Mark's brain was now short-circuiting. He stood there stuttering, repeating "Buh...buh...buh" over again, as silent tears streamed down his face.
Deciding whether Mark is going to simply leave or reject his wife and daughter outright. What do you guys think?
As the others were distracted, Nilelane approached the ent for a clandestine conversation "...look, can you uninvite Ghoopi. Shes a major pain in the a-...er, a termite in my bough crack as it were. I can't guarantee her safety..." she implores.
For Woldburg's part, she seemed to be having a heated argument with an invisible debater named Sam, who seems to have made some religious goof "...don't you blaspheme! Not to me!"
Feel free to interact and have some fun roleplaying while I run though a quick scene with Mark.
"I would not worry, little one," Rundahlrombdree reassures Nilelane, "She does not eat with the rest of us. Says it messes with her 'vibes' or something."
As Mark is lead away, the rest of you settle down for what appears to be a fest with the fey. Several of them crowd around, looking for tales of your adventures and the world beyond the grove.
Mark:
You are lead to a small cottage nestled under the roots of a tree. Inside the smells of roasting vegetables and freshly baked bread make your mouth water. Your daughter, Aria, clings to you like a limpet and just seems happy to see you again, and when the door closes, your wife turns and buries her face into your shoulder, crying and laughing all at once.
"I've missed you, Mark. I've missed everyday since we were taken from our home, and here you are! After the years we've spent apart, you're here. It's almost... It's almost too good to be true," she says, her voice watery and shaky from her sobbing laughter.
After a moment, though, she leans back and looks at you with a concerned frown.
"Are you alright? You've... you've been quiet since we found you," she mentions.
Sorry for being vague here. I'm not sure how long it's been since Mark's family went missing, or what you have in mind for them.
"I want to believe it's you, I really do, but I can't trust my senses. I find you both, what I most want in the world here, surrounded by Fey: creatures who revel in the suffering of mortals. You understand my suspicion."
He held up a hand to cut off her protestations "I don't know how you can prove yourself to me. That's my problem. For now, let's just take things slow and hope for the best."
He reached out and gave both of them a hug, a tear falling silently down his face.
"I know Mark, but I think these fey are more, ah, mischievous than malicious. Besides, I don't blame you for being suspicious. I would be too in your shoes. We can take it slow. Maybe you tell me and Aria of your adventures looking for us, and we'll tell you how we wound up here," Anya says as she guides you to an overstuffed couch to sit and catch up.
We can call it here, or keep it going through spoilers
The feast carries on deep into the night. Ghoopi, whether by chance or by good sense, stays clear of Nilelane. The fey sing and dance and cheer between begging for stories and gorging themselves on a variety of dishes. You all bed down for the night eventually with full bellies and sweet dreams in your heads.
All save one.
Nilelane, do you still drink the thing you said you were drinking after falling a little more apart?
Nilelane had been leaning up against a tree on the edge of the firelight, thoughts of the potion building and building in her mind like a storm cloud rising higher and darker in the afternoon sky. She reached into the crusty organ under her ribcage that doubled as a super-secret-purse, and took out the mouse's gift, eyeing the strange colors swirling within.
::You're not going to change anything.:: she informed the potion skeptically. ::It's all just going to start again...::
For a moment she considered what a waste of time her existence had been since the first revivification however long ago...the strange memories that came to her like ghosts in the night. What did it mean to have knowledge without experience anyways? It was impersonal for certain, but just as pragmatic. The potion would not stop those tokens of past lives.
She watched Mark, reunited by all appearance and assumptions anyways, with his family. That was a true new start, one that opened the door for new and wonderful experiences. Nilelane couldn't help but smirk, not for a tinge of jealousy but a toast to strange fates.
"Bottoms up, m$!@~# f+~&@&." she whispered, slamming it down her gullet.
Anya simply smiles and hugs your arm while Aria wraps her arms around your waist.
"We missed you too, Papa."
And with that, you rejoin the party.
Nilelane:
You feel drowsy as the potion slithers down your throat in a not unpleasant way. You don't remember settling down between the roots of an old tree covered in soft moss. For the first time since you can remember, you drift off into sleep.
"Ah, I see you accepted my gift, and did that favor for me," the familiar voice of the mouse says in the darkness. "For that last one, you have my most sincere thanks. Now, I'm sure your curious about what is about to happen. Well, I think you should have a second chance, not some shambling, rotting existence of drudgery that bleeds from one life to the next. I also thought you'd enjoy something fun, so you now have a nifty new body that comes with some sweet perks, but getting used to it might be a bit of a bumpy road."
You feel, really good. Amazing. You have so much energy that you didn't even realize how rundown you'd been feeling. It's a shame that you can't fold yourself into a cube. You start to bend your body, and that's when the strangest thing yet happens, you turn into a smooth, obsidian cube with your eyes, save bigger. A few more experiments, and you find that you can change your form at will, although it's a bit tricky.
Nilelane can now shift the shape of her body into any shape she can imagine, but there are two limits. The first is that she always has a tell that marks her form. The second is that every time you shift, you have a 1 in 6 chance of things going awry as you get used to your new body. When this happens, you change, but into a random form that will be suitably comedic for the situation. Unfortunately, you don't get any of the cool abilities of a monster that aren't reliant on it's form if you make yourself look like one. For example. If you make yourself look like a dragon, you get the flight, armor, bite, claws, and tail, but your don't get the breath, magic, or other senses.
As you play with this new power in your dreams, you feel an ominous presence growing in your mind. You turn and see who it is that has been haunting you.
The dead green grocer!
"Well, well, well. It seems that you can't off me that easily, you drow hussy!"
The night passes mostly uneventfully. After a good night's rest, you pick the plums you need and set out just as the sun rises with two new members of your troupe in tow, Anya and Aria. the two stick to Mark like magnets to iron.
At the grocer's voice she just smirks, as a sinister thought enters her head "Nor you me..." morphin her form into that to nearly perfectly match the green grocer herself...
Mishap:1d6 ⇒ 6
Stroking the ghosts cheek with her own hand "Most people think you are still alive, after all. It will be quite easy to torment them...your mother, your father...everyone you care about. Everyone will see the true side of their beloved green grocer...and in the end, not only will you be dead, but hated by all who ever knew you." she promises. "Unless you get the hell out, that is."
The spectre of the greengrocer looks confused, then frightened. With a cry declaring she'll have her revenge, she leaves you to enjoy the rest of your sleep.
The trip continues on for a while without incident. Things are going smoothly, which in hindsight should have been a sign that trouble was a head. Nestis recognizes them as he sees them ahead of them in the road, a kill team from his clan.
And with the wicked looking raptors among their ranks, they weren't looking for prisoners.
Nilelane tossed and turned all night, despite the greengrocer's apparent retreat...
~~~
"Yes, but do you have a size 7?" the woman asked, her face bright red and looking about to explode in a sweaty mess.
"Ma'am..." Nilelane patiently explained "...wouldn't you be more comfortable in a size 9..."
"Not 9! 7! I was 7 when I was in the Academy and still am! Your little measuring thing isn't calibrated correctly..."
"..." Nilelane, Obsidian Blackbird McKnight in her native tongue, was bordering on suicidal. Sneaking booze and drugs between customers had lost its fun and was just a mere routine at this point to keep the numbing agony at bay. "Size 7, right."
The woman's stinky sweaty foot was right in Nilelane's face as she tried fruitlessly to cram the shoe over the fatty foot. ::F%&@ the shoehorn...:: she thought ::...it'll pain this b$!$# more to twist...::
"Yeeeeooo! Ooooh! Ohhh my!" the wide eyed woman's mouth was such a perfect circle a passer-by would've thought Nilelane was cramming the shoe up a quite different body part.
But little petty things can only take so much abuse, and the stitching finally tore.
"Well! I'm certainly not paying for that, y-y-you're the one who did that!" she huffed, making her way hastily out the shop.
Nilelane didn't care though, she was gone and that meant it was time for booze. She grabbed a few tack nails, a hammer, and some 180 proof.
~~~
The drow corpse woke drowsily the next morning "...w-w-what. The. Hell." suddenly an expert in shoes and specifically their repair.
On long rest can change Token proficiency. Removing Herbalism adding Cobbler's. Because cooking cobbler pun at some point.
Nilelane couldn't help but analyze the situation from a footwear perspective. What kind of leather were those boots, anyways? And what gnomish millionaire did they slay for that exquisite polish? What metropolis did this lot fall out of so flush with all that fresh gear?
As a cobbler would see it.
Int Cobblers:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
A murdering cobbler bored with life and with a quiver of deadly steel tipped sheafs, recently tip-dipped in the fetid intestines of a dead greengrocer for extra disease causing qualities. A cold killer who enjoyed waiting patiently for her prey to enter her kill zone, as she silently anticipated the perfect moment to strike.
She made the appropriate sacrifices to the webmaster and the DM. ;)
Honestly I've been trying to be fair and work everyone's story into the adventure, and I hope I've succeeded more than failed. As for why Nilelane seems to roll like a boss, well, I'd say that's pretty accurate for a drow with lifetimes of experience and skill.
Male "Human" Bard 5 D&D Beyond Sheet | HP: 37/37 | AC: 15 | Ins +8, Per +5, Stl +7, Srv +3 | Saves: Str +1, Dex +7*, Con +3, Int +3, Wis +2, Cha +3* | Init: +10 | Passive Perception 15, Darkvision 60ft. | Speed 30ft | Inspiration: 0 | Hit Dice: 5 / d8+2 | Spell Slots: 1st 3/4 |2nd 3/3 |3rd 1/2 | Active conditions: None
Nestis grins then says:
"Let's kill them all before they do the same to us! They won't want witnesses!"
As he speaks, he casts. A twisting pattern of colours weaves momentarily in the air around the oncoming kill squad.
A hypnotic pattern, one might say.
OOC:
Yup, it's Hypnotic Pattern.
The area of effect is a 30-foot cube, positioned to get as many of the blaggards as he can. Wisdom Save DC 16. Probably with advantage for some or all of them if yuan-ti.
"On a failed save, the creature becomes charmed for the duration. While charmed by this spell, the creature is incapacitated and has a speed of 0.
"The spell ends for an affected creature if it takes any damage or if someone else uses an action to shake the creature out of its stupor."
Both of the dinos and one of the kill team are snared by Nestis' spell. Before they can react, Nilelane puts an arrow in one's leg, slowing him, before she hides again, her new body moving with a strange, supple grace, as if she were really, really stretchy.
The rest of you are up. No need for initiative this time. Nestis and Nilelane disrupted what coordination they had.
