"So it's settled then? We deal with this Longscarf fellow, one way or the other, right?" Vash asks, as he looks for a decent place to lay down for the "night".
"The Lady in question needed knocked down a peg or two, I think," Willow responded, huffing with laughter. For the first time in quite some time, she felt herself lose some of the tension in her face and, without thought, tried to return Khalil's smile. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her face at the attempt, and, wincing, Willow reflexively covered her mouth with her hand to hide the strange twisting that resulted whenever she attempted to smile.
She looks away from Khalil, embarrassed, and shrugs. "The hags stole my smile. Can't remember if I've mentioned that before, but..." She trails off, schooling her face back into something a little more neutral, and crosses her arms over her chest with some discomfort.
"It does feel nice be part of something that inspires hope when I've lived for so long thinking that there was none." Willow says, shifting focus away from her loss. She flushes a little when the words leave her mouth, feeling a little silly over the level of melodrama she just displayed.
--
Willow murmurs a thank you as she exits the door Khalil is holding and returns to sit with the rest of their group, taking one of the chairs this time.
"Yes, we should definitely deal with him one way or another, I think," Willow replies to Vash thoughtfully. "Although, if the Watcher is somewhere south, we may want to try to find it first. I believe the Watcher may be closer to us than Longscarf. And it could possibly help us with Sir Talavar." She glances at Elmer for confirmation of her suspicions.
Sammy tried duck once and loved it, so he's quite happy that Karley made this choice. Though not as yummy as he recalls, it is still an uncommon enough dish for him to enjoy it.
When the meal is finished, he makes thankful gestores to the chef, smily and visibly happy.
With a yawn, Vash responds to Willow, "I suppose that makes a fair bit of sense. Assuming everone is agreeable, we'll head out that direction first thing tomorrow morning."
"You might be able to avoid the tollway itself, if you give it a wide berth and travel with care and stealth. Problem is the closer you get to it the more likely you are to run into some of Longscarf's bandits. And they tend to pilfer more from the unwilling than those who pay openly, if they catch them. Far as I can tell, Agdon is all too happy to prey upon good folk, and he's not being coerced."
He looks around at the tower. "Not much in the way of guest accommodations, I'm afraid. I could sling up some hammocks, maybe, if you don't mind sleeping on webbing."
Karley rummages in the basket and finds the body of Wigglewog the bullywug, a frog-like humanoid who croaked when the balloon crashed. It seems the two escaped in a hurry, and did not pack any rations or other supplies. There is some extra rope she finds that could potentially come in handy.
Her grease spell frees the balloon, and it slides off the tower with an ungraceful drooping thud.
"Well, sounds like try to find The Watcher first, then maybe deal with things along the way..." Willow yawns and stands, reaching her hands towards the ceiling in a long, languid stretch.
"I have a bedroll with me," She nods at Elmer, "But thank you - I'm used to a cot or the ground anyway. It'll be hard enough sleeping without all the carnival sounds. I'm going to get a little fresh air before I sleep, though."
Willow steps out of the tower and sits near it, heaving a sigh as she stares up into the sky. Just one day changing everything - again. She turns her holy symbol over in her hand, studying the delicate shape of it in thought, her version of a prayer. Can we even help? Is this too big for just...the few of us? She considers each of her companions for a moment, thinking about how they've all changed, grown up. You haven't walked my dreams in so long, she thinks, directing her thoughts to The Dreamwalker, feeling lonely despite all the company she had.
After some time sitting and staring at the symbol, Willow will return indoors to where they're all sleeping and stretch out on her bedroll, falling into an uneasy sleep.
Willow, you spot Karley? ...Karley with a turquoise beard made of dinosaur feathers?
That tracks, actually.
She seems to be unlashing some kind of device from the ruins of the balloon, somewhat resembling a toiling dwarf from a fairy-tale book's illumination.
If you let her spot you, she would wave excitedly...but of course offer little more than her typical tidbits in conversation.
Willow will wave back at Karley, eyebrows raising at the feather beard. It tracks, but it also cheers Willow up a bit before she heads back inside. At least some things remained the same, Willow thinks, chuckling softly to herself.
Confusion crosses Khalil's face when Willow seemingly has some kind of fit as they are talking. But that quickly turns to concern and then muted anger and yet another evil the hags must pay for.
"I'm sorry. I did not know and did not mean to cause you any pain." He says quiet kindness. "These hags have stolen much. We when finally put things right, I'm sure the world will be much brighter with your smile returned."
Khalil nods his agreement with the general plan and then stifles a large yawn. It truly had been a long day and his body was feeling the taxation caused by the pair of transformations. When Elmer mentions a lack of accommodations the druid smiles.
"I can sleep anywhere." He says recalling many a night spent outdoors on the hard ground beneath the stars. "And having spent much of the day as a spider, the webbing is somehow comforting." He adds patting Elmer on the shoulder and grabbing an out of the way spot before quickly dropping off to sleep.
"The Watcher to the south. Then we head north." Nuruk says as he finds a nice corner to begin unstrapping the heavy chain from his body. An audible sigh of relief leaves him as the heavy metal lands to the ground with a thunk and he puts his axe up against the wall. Underneath the worn, green cloak were simple, rustic clothing; thick enough to keep the chain from scratching at his scales and keeping the cold away from his skin.
The dragonborn's body was a massive frame of muscle and power, old and faded scars decorated his forearms and knuckles and only one or two upon his chest where the tunic laid open. Happy for his dry boots, he would muse over the large stick that the ent had given them, studying it and feeling its energy until his comrades around him had fallen asleep. Only once he was sure they were safe and sound would his eyes slowly drift downwards, closing as sleep took hold.
Willow had almost hoped that thinking about the Dreamwalker, focusing on her so intently, would bring her a vision as she slept. But her sleep was peaceful, and uninterrupted. Whatever the hags had done, her patron remained quiet.
Nuruk studies the branch, and realizes it is a wand. He can feel the life energy within it, the desire from the stick to cause growth. When used upon a foe, he senses it can cause the nearby plants to rapidly sprout branches and leaves and entangle the target in foliage.
You all find sleep, waking well rested the following day.
Although there really wasn't a dawn to welcome a new day, some internal clock developed over his years in the Feywild woke him as if it were time to feed Bella, pick the twinkle berries, and move the jack-a-lopes into the upper pasture for the day. Being one of the first up he heats a kettle of water for tea and washes up.
Carrying a cup of the spicy, citrus and mint brew outside, he ponders the flowers and transformed swamp where Nuruk preyed over Elmer's fallen companion. Once again he finds himself astonished at how tragedy turned to beauty.
When the others arise he greets them with a smile and points out the hot water. "For tea if any wish. I don't have any Kaeth beans, else I would have brewed a pot for us."
Once it is time, it doesn't take Khalil long to gather his few things and be ready to strike south to locate the Watcher.
Willow's eyes flutter open after a long, dreamless sleep. She sits up quickly, scrambling a little, looking around in a half-asleep daze, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings. It had been eight years since she had slept anywhere other than surrounded by the noise and chaos of the carnival and waking up here was...unsettling. Elmer's tower...in the Feywild...that's right. Willow rubs the sleep from her eyes, taking a series of deep breaths to force her heart to stop racing.
Before concerning herself with her companions, Willow stands and shakes herself out a bit, popping her back and her neck, before beginning to flow through a series of stretches that seem second-nature to the tiefling. After, she inspects her clothes from the day before: soft, black leather breeches and a light, short-sleeved black tunic. Clean enough, she thinks, and goes to splash her face with water then pull on the rest of her black-dyed leather armor.
When Khalil re-enters from outside, Willow is finally open to paying attention to others, and she makes herself a cup of tea, raising the mug to Khalil when it's done. "Thanks, Khalil. Maybe we can keep an eye out for some beans..." She looks a little wistful at the thought.
After tea and any morning conversation, Willow is ready and eager to get a move on to find any sign of The Watcher.
Vash yawns and stretches as he gets up from Elmer's floor in the morning. "Definitely not used to sleeping on the floor anymore, a few years ago it wouldn't have been a problem, but now it seems I've gotten a bit too used to comfy inn beds."
Splashing a bit of water on his face, Vash pulls his hair back into a tail and gathers his things. "Off to the south then?"
You all make your farewells to Elmer, and you see him looking upon Wover's resting places as you depart. Turning away, the beauty of the towers and its surrounds fade back into the gray murk of the swamp.
You all move through the swamp slowly, seeking higher ground whenever possible. The day passes mostly uneventfully, aside from any conversations you all have as you travel and get to know your friends again.
According to Karley's hourglass, about five hours pass before you start to hear a strange sound in the distance. Continuing forward, you soon determine it to be sustained screeching of some kind, like someone or something is unleashing a constant scream without pause from breath. It varies slightly in pitch, but never ceases. It's still some ways off.
Up ahead, through the morass and fog, you can make out the form of a humanoid-frog sitting on the edge of a river. They are not the source of the distant sound, but also seem unbothered by it, and appear to be fishing.
Willow picks her way along the swampy path, keeping close to her companions. Normally, she'd bask in companionable silence, but it seemed like the perfect time to poke and prod at her old friends to find out what they'd been doing since she and Karley had run off to the carnival. Willow keeps pace with Vashrin, her tail whipping around behind her energetically.
"So, Vash - you said you're all used to comfy inn beds now? When'd you leave home?" She assumed he'd been traveling if inn beds were the default, but left it to him to confirm the details.
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Vashrin shrugs. "It wasn't always inn beds, but that has been the norm the last few years, as I had 'settled' in Waterdeep, bouncing from tavern to tavern, inn to inn, whoever would have me be the evening's entertainment for a stretch. As I got a bit better well known in the city, I was usually able to negotiate room and board as part of my fee. As to why I stayed in Waterdeep, what better place in all the Realms is there to research about the feywild and the carnival that had vexed me for so long - or about anything really."
"No offense meant by that last part." he adds quickly, not wanting to offend his friends who had called that very carnival "home" these last eight years.
"The same night you and Karley left Silverymoon, I left home too. I...I couldn't bear the thought of mom seeing my reflection...especially with Celeste gone. I knew that I had to do something and that wasn't going to happen in Silverymoon - so I ran away, intent on stowing away with a merchant caravan bound for places beyond."
Shaking his head with a seemingly self-disappointed sigh, "It wasn't a particularly well thought out plan...took me over a month to get out of the city, but I still couldn't bear the thought of returning the Grand Griffon - not if there was any chance mom would see my reflection, so I stayed on the streets, begged and stole to eat when I couldn't rely on the 'kindness of strangers' - which in itself is a bit of a misnomer in my experience anyway."
"I did finally manage to execute 'my plan' and stow away in a wagon and managed to keep myself hidden at least long enough to get out of Silverymoon. Like anytime, one presses their luck too long, mine eventually ran out and I was found, fortunately for me it was by Gregor. He was a good man, a bit of a task master, but a good man none-the-less. I still really don't know why he took mercy on a scrawny half-elf kid that had been stealing from the caravan's supplies, but he did. Used to say that I was good for keeping the crew entertained with the stories I would tell - guess all those nights sitting up and listening to the bards at the Griffon paid off after all..."
Taking a deep breath, Vash continues, "Anyway...Gregor took me in, and I would travel with him and his caravan all across western Faerun, mostly up and down the Sword Coast. So, sleep in bedrolls on the ground wasn't always as foreign to me as it is now."
"Gregor was a good friend and mentor...really almost like a father, which was nice since Celeste and I never really had one of those, but like all good things that eventually came to an end, and he continued on his routes, and I stayed in Waterdeep."
With a final shrug, Vash says with a crooked grin, "That's the long and short of it, not one of my better stories to be sure, but I can vouch for its truthfulness."
Looking back Willow, "So you obviously ended up thriving at the Witchlight, and I know you said you stayed at the carnival while Karley did Karley things," he says with a wink toward the halfling, "but what all did you do there for the last eight years?"
"I'd still like to see that performance sometime should the opportunity present itself." he adds with a smile.
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"It sounds like you've seen a lot," Willow comments, eyes widening slightly in awe at his experiences. "I'm glad it ended up working out...but I'm sorry you went through so much to get there."
At his question, Willow begins to fidget with the end of her tail a bit, thinking for a moment before responding. "Well, for a while, I took care of the kids at the carnival. Mostly the children of the other workers, and rarely, kids who came into the carnival like we did." Willow furrows her eyebrows, sorting through her memories carefully.
"'Thrive' is a strong word for it, I think. People are unsettled by someone who can't smile. And it's even worse when they are forced to laugh at me when I worry about things. Although, I didn't know it was a curse at the time. I just thought people hated me because I couldn't smile and be polite in that way. Once I was old enough, I started sneaking into the after-hours parties." Willow huffs with wry laughter, shaking her head. "Honestly, when I say all of this out loud, it sounds so melodramatic. But, I just did a lot to feel numb. Drinking, weird drugs from other planes, a lot of sleeping around. Anything that could silence the self-hating internal monologue." She continues to fidget with her tail, the movement an obvious anxious tic.
"As for the performance stuff, well, I just got interested in watching the lyra performers a few years ago, gave it a try during the off-hours, and ended up catching the attention of one of our top performers - Jastira. She trained me to be a performer. She is not the easiest woman to work with, but, I got pretty decent at the art. At least, she complimented me. Once. After a year of solo shows to enthusiastic audiences, I got one compliment. So, I know I'm not just full of myself on that front." Willow glances over at Vash, biting the insides of her lips closed on one side to help her resist trying to smile.
"If we find a suspended hoop just laying around somewhere - or I find something similar to it - and you play the music..." Willow shrugs. "You might be able to convince me to perform for a small audience."
"No shame in seeking ways to make the pain go away, or at least dull it. Gods know I've done my fair share and then some." Vash says sympathetically.
With a grin, he says, "If we happen to find a hoop or something of the sort, I'll be happy to play the music."
"It never really helped, but a lot of it was pretty fun in the moment." Willow chuckles smilelessly, still fidgeting with her tail.
"Your turn, Nuruk." Willow stares at the golden dragonborn, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. "It seems like you didn't go down the path of depravity to deal with your loss."
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"Depravity isn't all bad." Vash quips.
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In the supposed morning, the Defenders would find their friend outside washing the grime and sweat from his armor and clothing while beating a small beat into the chainmail. It was a practiced routine, helping shake off the water while he cleaned and maintained, one that he had followed for years. Dressing in his armor and hefting the massive axe he carried with him, the dragonborn said goodbye to Elmer and took Sir Talavar with him. The cage hung from the greataxe's shaft, leaving the psuedodragon to bounce in rhythm of the large paladin's steps. The brave boggard was given a place to rest as well for his heroics, a quick prayer given for his sacrifice at Elmer's Tower, before the Defenders began their journey southwards.
There was enjoyment in the quietness at first but the nice conversation that built between Willow and Vashrin was pleasant to listen to. His friends had grown through much, through humble moments and joyous victories. Vashrin learned the tools and trades of the travelling minstrel, perhaps even encountering one of the Harpers? Every bard was rumored to be one, after all. Willow travelled with Karley through realms unimaginable to sights unseeable. Yet there were little tragedies in both their lives; a loneliness that the curses had brought upon them all.
When it was asked what had happened with them, the dragonborn would shift his axe for a moment before rubbing his chin.
"True. None of you were there besides Sammy to see me off with Sir Kelloth. Things after you left Vash were...hard. There was a panic in the town; lost children after a strange carnival raises many eyebrows. Your parents sought you all out, even you Karley. We couldn't remember you but we knew something was missing. Your mother still believes something is wrong." The dragonborn says, his voice having gotten softer. "Sammy and I grew closer and we were ostracized; his silence and my uncontrollable rhyming. We both became mute for months. We tried to maintain the fort but the woods reclaimed it in time."
"Six months came and went when an old man came to Silverymoon asking questions about the carnival. He was directed to me and my family and recognized I was under a curse. He made us an offer; he would free me from the curse in return for me becoming his apprentice. My father agreed and I ended up becoming a squire to one of the last Knights of the Bramble. Sammy saw me off and for eight years, I trained under his tutelage. Knowledge of the Feywilds, of the Carnival, of ancient oaths to beings such as the Dreamwalker and Titania. After focusing my body, mind, and soul, I was made the oath to preserve the Light." Nuruk says, a wide smile spread across his face as he recants the oath. "Kindle the Light, Shelter the Light, Preserve your own Light, and be the Light. With those oaths recited, I knelt and pledge myself to all that is good with your Queen, Titania, as my witness. That night...is a blur but one that warms my heart. I saw things that no one..." Nuruk's words stop as he thinks a moment, grinning at each of his friends. "Well...no one except present company perhaps, could imagine. Sir Kelloth left his notes and books with me and retired into Titania's court. Using those notes, I tracked down where the Carnival would next show itself and was correct in my hunt. I am sworn to cleanse it of the hags' darkness and I will succeed...or die. There is no other outcome."
Finding that he had been rambling for some time, Nuruk blushes and gave a small shrug.
"It is not anything too special. I can say though that I am a knight and serve a knightly order. One that most would have to go through ancient tomes to remember but I am a knight now." He says nodding, lifting his chin a little. "It comes with literally no benefit and a lot of responsibility. I think when it comes to parties, you all had a much better time than I."
"Sounds like we'll need to get you to a party, then, Nuruk. The knighthood thing, your strength, your shining scales...those things definitely turn heads." Willow bites down on the corner of her mouth again, holding back a grin, whilst a slight blush appears on her cheeks, going a little darker with each item on her list.
"In all seriousness, though...I'm sorry things were so hard after we all left, Nuruk. and Sammy." Willow nods her head to the silent man in acknowledgement. "There's no other choice with the Hags, truly. I can't stand by while I have a chance to both regain our losses, free my Goddess, and get them exactly what they deserve." Willow's expression darkens, brows furrowing and lips pursing; although, one might see a slightly alarming sparkle in her silver eyes at the thought of revenge.
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Khalil walks along listenening to the others, his sodden boots squelching in the water and mud. The trials, tribulations, and adventures of his new found companions are all quite amazing and even a bit intimidating. What is a simple orphaned farmhand with a love of the land and wild compared to knightly vows and high wire performances or traveling the trade routes of Faerun? He can't help but ponder as he squish-squish-squishes along the murky path.
Talk of Silverymoon and parents left behind, leave Khalil even more quiet and contemplative. For he could recall neither. But by what little he had learned so far, even if his memories did return there would be no one back 'home' to mourn his loss or burst into joyful tears should he step across their threshold one surprising summer afternoon.
And what is home? He can't help but ponder. The farmhouse in the Summer Country surrounded by rows of sugarfruit, twinkle berries, and star apple orchards along with its namesake Briarpatch was the only home Khalil knew. Where the stars in the sky held stories dreamed to life within his own imagination, or perhaps through tiny cracks in the hags evil magic. For a kernel of what was stolen existed in those tales he dreamed beneath the golden moon.
Or perhaps, home was simply where one felt most at peace and in tune with himself. Where comfort and joyfulness could be found even while sloshing along a swamp water path. Home. Khalil discovers, sinking his staff into the ground checking the depth of a particularly suspect puddle, home is where friendship and companionship hold the darkness and chaos of despair and loss at bay.
He marches on, quiet. Listening. A smile on his face even as his foot sinks deep enough or a moment to allow water to slop inside his boot and soak his feet even further.
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"It isn't like I never went to a party before. I just think that my memory is blurred by satyr wine and to possibly preserve my sanity. The Fair Folk's true beauty has been known to shatter minds alike." The dragonborn initially defends himself about. Yet with each item that she lists, the dragonborn does his absolute best to try and not to look anyone in the face for. The gold upon his face deepens to that like rusted gold around his cheeks, the keratin dreadlocks twitching as he scratches at his head. "Do not apologize, you all showed such bravery and fearlessness. To hunt your devils down alone or to embark upon strange adventures, that is true courage. I can only pray that I show the same courage these coming days that you all showed that dreadful night." Leaning over and nudging Sammy, he would grin. "We did pretty well though ourselves, I must admit."
"I have to ask though Karley, I have never seen magic like yours. I've read on the strange and arcane and you, honestly, completely baffle me. It is extraordinary and fits you perfectly." The dragonborn inquires as he leads the way. The keepsake on his hip continues to push the fetid waters away from them, providing them with dry land and keeping his boots from becoming soaked and heavy.
Willow looked at her feet thoughtfully for a moment as she walked - she had thought about spilling some of the debauched escapades, but decided those were stories better told with more comfortable surroundings and a little bit more social lubricant. Willow shifts her gaze to Nuruk, quietly relishing the blush spreading across the dragonborn's cheeks.
"Nuruk, do you think yourself less than brave for some reason?" Willow wrinkles her nose, shaking her head. "You're hunting down your devils - maybe not alone, but...there's courage in trusting others, too. And, not to mention...is this not a strange adventure we're on?" She huffs lightly with smileless laughter. "Give yourself a little bit more credit."
Willow shifts her attention to Karley as the halfling answers Nuruk's question. She had, of course, heard some of this before, even seen some of it, and felt that every time Karley tried to explain her circumstances, more and more things made sense to her. "And what about your shenanigans and debauchery, Karley? You've got some fun stories."
She pokes at the halfling teasingly, her eyes glittering with mirth.
Vashrin turns his head toward Karley, not truly knowing what was about to come out of the halfling's mouth, but he had few doubts that it would be entertaining.
"At least the shenanigans anyway." Vash pleads.
"Save the tales of debauchery until we've settled for the night around a fire and are a bit into our cups...no sense in having any inhibitions around for such tales." he adds with a wink.
Nuruk was caught off-guard by Willow's questioning, his dark eyes opening in surprise before he tucked his head downwards. The flush grew as his embarrassment grew. He would not lie to his comrades, even as they moved directly towards their chosen foes and his dreaded fear.
"I-I do. I still have nightmares of them, Willow. Those small, frog-like creatures. Her servants." Nuruk's voice was soft and for a moment, it was more like the young, clumsy child they had grown up beside was there rather than the imposing man clad in armor, axe, and ancient righteousness. "I have stared down undead horrors alongside Sir Kelloth, bloodthirsty fey, and cruel men that needed no devils. Yet...those small, blind-eyed servants? They give me chills and I cannot still the shake that lingers in my hands when I dwell on them."
"I am afraid that when I face them, my fear will take hold of me. What kind of knight cannot face his childhood nemeses? Let them cause him to fail?" His voice began to be a little more panicked as he reached up and caressed the amulet of composed of leather hide, antler, and holly. A smile spread across his face afterwards.
"I am sorry for burdening you all with my fears. We hunt an ancient being's children, powers in their own right, and I am worried of little frog-men. I will not let my fear stop me, I promise." Nuruk finished, flashing a reassuring smile that felt too forced to him. When Karley began to speak, he was glad to the change of attention.
Karley's tale was as mystifying as it was amazing. Alternate persons, travelling throughout the multiverse, existing everywhere all at once. She had tapped into a wellspring of power that was somehow just herself. The implications of it was incredible.
"Perhaps someday we should head eastward and speak to the highest powers within the Church of Mystra? I am certain that the Goddess of the Weave would have some insight that may help." Nuruk helpfully offered. When the talk of shenanigans and debauchery began to be brought up, the tall force of holy goodness cleared his throat. "A celebration perhaps after our victory? NotthatIdon'twanttohearaboutit, I just..uhh..yes, later." Nuruk followed with, clearing his throat. "I think I'll scout ahead a little bit. Not like much can miss me here in the swamps."
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Sam witnesses how some others go naked in front of their friends - not literally, of course. He also takes some time to think about his fears in the back of his head, and recalls that old nightmare where he couldn't communicate at all. It would end in many different ways, from losing the live of his life to being executed by mistake, all because of his inability to say the proper thing at the proper time.
There's been a while since last time the nightmare appeared, though. It seems being focused on a target helps Sam's mind in a way.
Of course, Sam has always been a little too much devil-may-care, so it could be that he just hides problems away instead of facing them, which might be the mature thing to do.
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Willow watches Nuruk carefully after his confession, a chill shivering through her - visibly. She thinks about the few times she thought she had seen the Hag's little servants in the shadows of the Carnival tents and how many times Karley had pulled her out of her tent to keep her from spiraling into chasing a dangerous kind of numbness. She glances over at the halfling, briefly making eye contact with her.
Then, she moves to match pace with Nuruk and, despite the height difference, manages to gently link her arm with his and gives his arm what she hopes is a comforting squeeze against her chest. "I've seen them a few times, at the Carnival. Every time, I feel like I'm being pushed off a cliff and I can't breathe. All I can think about is the smell of that creature, and..." She trails off and shivers violently again, curling her tail around herself a little bit for comfort. "Well, you know." She squeezes his arm again and looks up at him, trying to look reassuring. "But you were there, and you helped me then. You didn't fail us then, and you won't now. If you freeze, we'll snap you out of it."
After any reply from Nuruk, she takes a deep breath and then looks over to Sammy, then Khalil, pointing two fingers at her own eyes and then back to them. "Don't think either of you is going to get away with staying quiet for too long. There have been years since the first Carnival visit for you two, as well."
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Khalil chuckles softly at Willow's call to action. His eyes twinkling in the perpetual Hither twilight.
"Ahem...Well..." He stammers hesitantly. "Well, there isn't really all that much to tell. I think you all already know that following that day in the carnival, I went into the Feywild under the apprenticeship...well...ownership really...of Gorm One-Eye. Gorm owned and tended Briarpatch Meadows. It's a small patch of farm just south of the River of Dreams in the Summer Country. You go past the Hanging Tree and Mr. Toad's place, take a left along Leaping Lizard Lane go just past past Skeeter Swallow Pond and Old Man Willow's place. It's a fair bit of land good for growing twinkle berries, plump red sugar fruits, star apples and a good patch of common potatoes, carrots, onions, turnips and such."
It obvious by the pleasant warmth in his voice that he cares deeply for the place if not the person who brought him there.
"I spent most of my life hoeing, weeding, planting, plowing, and picking. Most of the time it wasn't so bad. The work was hard, but I enjoyed being outdoors under the sky. And at night, the star's. The same stars where I imagined the constellations and stories that haunted my dreams." The wooden bracelet of constellations rattles at his wrist with each mud squishing step.
"So overall not much excitement or danger." He pauses for a few moments. The chirping, croaking sounds of the swamp accompanying the sploshing taps of his staff as it searches futilely for more solid ground. His smiling face slowly face turns more dour. "Well...I guess that is true until this last year." He says quietly.
"That's when I found out the real deal Gorm had made. It wasn't just with the hags. You see he'd made a bargain with the Pumpkin King. An old, old, harvest spirit. It was the spirit's magic that truly gave Briarpatch its edge. But in return the King demanded a mortal soul. Gorm obviously didn't want to give up his own, so he planned to use me instead."
"To cut a long story short, the Pumpkin King came knocking seven years later, per his bargain with Gorm. If it weren't for Verity, a kitsune whose life I'd saved by freeing her from a nasty cold iron bear trap, I'd even now be just another soul on the vine in the harvest spirit's vast patch. It was Verity who challenged the bargain under the three rules and actually won in the Summer Queen's court."
"She got me out of the immediate pickle and Gorm..." A shake of the head as he hisses softly. "Well Gorm was forced to serve the Pumpkin King for the next hundred years and a day for his deceptions and lack of payment. Fairly hates me with a passion now he does. And while the Queen's judge granted me ownership of Briarpatch and a grace against the Pumpkin King's debt, I still owe a soul for the all the magic used over the years. Verity says it's a good deal. Gives me a chance to find any old useless soul to pass along. I'm just not so sure."
He stops, slips off his hat and wipes his brow. Carefully returns the big hat to its perch atop his head. "Problem is, I just can't imagine consigning someone else to such a fate. So either I find something else that might pay the Pumpkin King's debt, or I do it myself the next Old Gourd Head comes knocking."
Vash's eyes widen. "Tha...that's one hell of price you have to pay. I don't know how I would react under those circumstances."
"There's always a way out..." Willow says with a confidence she doesn't necessarily feel. She regards the newcomer to their group with wide eyes. "You've been through quite a bit, too -- Gorm has no right to hate you for what he did to you."
"I doubt the right of it or not will bother Gorm much." Khalil replies to Willow a bit sadly. "I mean, he was willing to participate in the theft...or possibly...sale of an orphan as forced labor. Albeit, I was pretty unwitting about the actual situation. But that's still the case." He sighs glances about at the wide trees and draping curtains of vines and lichens. "What's strange is that I still have a bit of a soft spot for the man. Despite it all, he did teach me a trade and about the land. Let me explore and wander if the work was finished. Even begrudgingly took in Verity so she could recover from her wound and the iron poisoning." He shakes his head and starts walking again.
"As for the debt I owe, well, I must admit, I'm hoping that stopping these hags, freeing the Feywild of their blight, and any other deeds I participate in or achieve might be just enough to placate the Pumpkin King." His hand gestures to take in the swamp and all the murky water. "I mean what if these hags decided to expand? There's not much harvest in a swamp. Even an ancient being like the Pumpkin King might see the boon in putting an end to such a creature's schemes."
"I hope that is the case, Khalil. If you believe in fate, maybe that's why you are with us now even if you weren't directly with us all those years ago." Vash says, patting the druid on the shoulder.
According to Karley's hourglass, about five hours pass before you start to hear a strange sound in the distance. Continuing forward, you soon determine it to be sustained screeching of some kind, like someone or something is unleashing a constant scream without pause from breath. It varies slightly in pitch, but never ceases. It's still some ways off.
Up ahead, through the morass and fog, you can make out the form of a humanoid-frog sitting on the edge of a river. They are not the source of the distant sound, but also seem unbothered by it, and appear to be fishing.
After some time walking, Willow's face scrunches up a little bit, listening to the distance screeching sound. "Do you guys hear that?" She asks, pointing up in the air and cocking her head to the side to listen more carefully.
Willow tries to think about what the sound might be, but she catches her foot on a root and stubs her toe. She hops around on one foot for a moment, bending over to hold her foot in pain, and spitting out a litany of very colorful curses involving goblins, their mothers, and wooden spoons.
Vash listens closely trying to clearly hear the sound before Willow's stream of profanity captures his attention.
Somewhat cautiously he approaches the curse spewing tiefling, "You alright? I have a bit of curative magic if you need it."
Willow puts her foot down gently, testing the weight on it and finding it to be bearable despite a slight throb. "Oh, gods, no, don't waste magic on this." She huffs a little, chuckling to herself. "Stubbed toes are just...the worst, you know?...You have any idea what that sound is?"
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Alerted once again to the sound, Khalil does his best to concentrate and try to identify the what it might be despite Willow's sudden outburst of carnival infused invective that muffles his ability to hear the other noise clearly.
Nuruk had taken the front, eager for the space between him and the others. He could hear the light sound of footsteps behind him and he instinctively thought to ask for peace when a small, dainty arm slipped around his. Willow squeezed his arm and the tall paladin smiled, albeit one that was aimed towards the ground. He listened to her own fears and the memories came back anew; the smell of that strange creature in the dark and those little rascals jumping upon him and her. When she shivered, the tendrils on his head rose slightly like hackles as anger began to pour itself into him. He couldn't keep her safe then when they attacked them. He pushed away the doubt and the blame and tried to take heart in the fact that he had still helped her even then. Those red eyes met and for a moment, there was a mist to them as he rubbed his face before holding her gaze again.
"Thank you Willow. I promise, I will not let you all down. I trust you." Nuruk murmured, happy to have the spotlight off of him as Willow directed the attention towards Sammy and Khalil. He listened carefully to Khalil's words, how the young man had grown in the Feywilds. His life was simply but idyllic, a life that anyone would want to have. Outside of the sacrificing a soul to the Pumpkin King, of course. His friends' belief that there must be a way out though brought a wider smile to his face as he gave a nod. "Perhaps the Dreamwalker will owe you a boon, a boon that can spare you Khalil? Otherwise, I will have to have a fight with this "king". If I am foolish enough to fight the daughters of Baba Yaga, I am foolish enough for that." The paladin said with a wink and a laugh, not really confirming if what he was saying was a joke or not.
Nuruk's eyes narrowed at the sound of the screeching that echoed through the swamps around them. Swallowing his previous worries, the chainmail-clad man moved forward now towards the noise. He sees a humanoid-looking frog sitting there, fishing in the swampwaters, and he lifts his hand before hailing them.
"Greetings friend! I am Nuruk Faerjhan, Knight of the Brambles. C-Could you tell us what that awful racket is?" The dragonborn says loudly, fighting against the constant sound.
Khalil recognizes the horrid sound as that of screaming devilkin. The creatures, fey not fiends, in spite of their name, can keep the sound up without ceasing except in sleep. Approaching too near to the sound is dangerous, causing the hearer to become incapacitated while the flying menaces sting their prey to death.
The frog man turns lazily, undisturbed by your sudden appearance. "Why hello they friends," he drawled "A good aftanoon' to ya." He cocks his head, turning his earhole towards the sound. "Oh don' you worry none, thet's jus' them crittahs keepin' watch ovah the Watcha. Long as you keep ya distance they wone hurt ya none." He patted the rickety wooden boardwalk he sat upon. It was only about ten feet long. "Sit a spell, git the watah out ya boots. Ol' Ufgunk don' mind the company."
"Oh well that works bes' on them rivah fishies. These swampy ones are as lazy as I am. They like them some bait what jus' sit there. I can teach ya if you gotta mine ta learn. You know what they say, 'Give a frog a fish, feed him for'n hour, teach a frog ta fish, he nevah eat flies again."