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Khalil smiles as he follows the others into Karley's room. Although the compositions of the stars was quite different from his own, he'd not ever really imagined the possibility of actually floating among the cosmic entities. Yet, somehow, in his mind it all felt...right. He could sense the overall natural connections between the massive glowing clouds of gas and dust. He watches as those massive brilliant clouds give birth to new stars. And around those stars new planets form, new worlds, and one far away day, new realms. The workshop of the gods. That is what the vast heavens above really are. The druid thinks to himself. We are all connected to this vast expanse. From the mightiest dragon to the lowliest mite. We all come from the fiery dust of the void.
And so, as the odd squishy cube elaborates upon the true form and nature of the Rumblemuffin line, Khalil nods slowly in understanding. Much like a forest filled with oak or fir trees. Each tree is essentially the same in its basic structure and makeup, yet each is different and unique with no single tree actually being the same. From the fir that stands two hundred feet high and as wide as two men tall upon the lush forest floor, to the spindly, twisted, fir struggling to survive on a rocky crag. Both are fir trees, both have their destiny. Both born of the same stardust. Yet vastly different forms, much like Karley and Kube.
For several moments, Khalil considers the puzzle of all this and the entity called the Nemesis. "Sooooo, this Nemesis..." Khalil says as he works through the possibilities out loud. "It would seem that entity is the natural balancing agent to your potential power and those like you. It seeks to balance the Order...or Chaos...generated by your own existence and actions. Thus there is perpetual conflict. For if one actually managed to destroy the other across the entire infinite universe, then all would either be Order or Chaos." He pauses in his ramblings, as the implications of the thread of thought try to form within his mind. "But the universe needs both to function. Therefore the universe...would...cease to exist. But to achieve such a victory would be nearly impossible. But not entirely..."
"Ahhh....but the real question for the moment would be, are the hags merely extensions of the Nemesis within this particular world reality? The fae are much like Karley. Creatures of magic, Order and Chaos often conflicting within their own being. Full of infinite possibilities. Many fae have been destroyed or changed because of the hags. Should their endeavors succeed...." He shakes his head and waves the thought away as nonsense. "Bah! We've plenty of reasons to go after these creatures, we need no more."
"In the meantime..." He says to Karley with a smile. "We shall hope your ties to the Eternal Conflict do not spill over into our sliver of the universe quite so dramatically in the future. And, as Willow says, we will be more prepared and able to help if they do."
"It is an interesting thought and, while the idea that there are countless other universes where we exist and we succeed just as many as there are ones where we fail, it brings me neither hope nor despair. None of them are here and none of them are us. It is our success that matters because this is our adventure and this is our task." Nuruk pressed his hands onto Karley's shoulders, grinning wider as he sees the stress leave her body. "What is most important is that you are our Karley. You have much ahead of you and I will not see if lost to the greed of three hags." Hags born of Baba Yaga, one of the most dangerous forces in the Feywild, but hags nonetheless. "I will say that I must bring your thoughts to that of a priest of Ao, if one can be found. I would be curious how the Overgod fits into this grand and peculiar design...or if there is another layer we have not yet witnessed." Standing up straighter now, he looks amidst his comrades and gives a nod to each of them before he speaks.
"Let us find the merriment that we had before we must go. We shall be careful with our drinks, our magic, and our righteousness. Now, shall we?"
"Yes. Get some food, and then get some sleep. Maybe another bath? Who knows when there will be another chance." Willow makes brief eye contact with Nuruk, eyes glittering with amusement. As she turns to head back downstairs, she sighs, dreading the return to the swamp after the comparative luxury of the inn.
When they're back downstairs, Willow sits next to Nuruk. She bumps against the paladin affectionately before propping her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands as she regards her fellow Defenders. "I think we need to figure out where we're going next... unless you all feel that's a morning discussion?"
Having returned downstairs to continue his work on the scroll for Tsu, Khalil looks up when Willow mentions where to go next. When he thought about it, he wasn't at all sure what might be the next best move against the hag. And so he says as much.
"I'm not sure exactly where to, but we should be on our way soon." He says. "To sit in one place for too long will eventually invite the hag's wrath. The appearance of the lornling is evidence enough of that."
He shrugs. "Jingle Jangle mentioned a settlement of some sort. Downfall, wasn't it? Seems as good a place as any to seek out the old crone's hideout."
"We were headed for the harengon bandits, weren't we?" Vasrin asks. "That might be a bit unavoidable at this point, after I ruined the evening's fun for one of them a bit earlier tonight." he adds sheepishly.
"If I recall correctly, we kind of have to deal with the harengon bandits either way. They're in direct employ of our quarry..." Willow trails off for a moment before looking at the bard with mild amusement on her face. "What was that even about, Vash? I saw you squaring up with him right before things got weird."
"While I am not opposed to a bit of wanton debauchery and may very well have taken part in my fair share, it's only fun if all parties are informed and on board with the idea."
Vash allows himself a small grin before continuing.
"In that particular case, the young girl was infatuated with a rogue who had no intention of carrying through on the promises he was making to the girl or her mother. The mother was skeptical, but the girl didn't see through it. Fortunately for her, I did, and informed them of such. As expected, Jinko - as the rogue calls himself - took exception to that. I suspect it would have come to blows if Karley hadn't had her little mishap."
Willow snorts with laughter, nodding along with Vashrin. "Poor girl. Good thing you were there...and that it didn't come to blows. We don't need more people owing things to Feywild folk." She rests her cheek on her hand, starting to feel rather tired from the excitement of the day and the alcohol still buzzing in her system.
"Sounds like he'll have it out for you whenever we run into the harengon...we'll watch your back, of course."
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"Perhaps my outburst will have helped him reevaluate his life's heading. These bandits are likely looking for easy pickings and an easy life underneath hard times. It can be tempting. Will will offer them a chance to change and those who accept, we'll let them go home." Nuruk states, leaving the unsaid part to hang in the air. Mercy was offered only once in earnest, a chance to spare any violence. If it was not taken, then righteous justice could be taken without fear or guilt.
"Sleep sounds like a good plan for now. Shall we?" He offered to Willow, holding his hand out for her. Bidding goodnight to the others, he would lead her back to their room but before they entered, he would stop and smile at her. "So...I learned bit by bit the properties of this place and I have the perfect place to rest for tonight. Join me."
Beyond the door laid a forest, thick and alive with the noise of insects and a gentle summer breeze that cooled the skin pleasantly. It would take a moment to recognize the place from the moonlight filtering through the leaves but she would see the old fortress that they used to play in for that summer before everything went wrong. It wasn't how it truly was but, rather, how they imagined it to be. Leading her in, he would crawl in first onto a bed of moss more comfortable than any bed could be.
"Too many summer nights have passed. Stay with me for one more, please." Nuruk asked gently, a hand reaching out for the tiefling with eyes of moonlight.
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Willow gladly takes the paladin's hand, bidding the others a cheerful goodnight as she began to follow Nuruk upstairs and to their room.
At the sight of the familiar forest, Willow stops. She stares up and around, awestruck, moonlight hitting her eyes and reflecting like molten silver. Her chest tightened at the scene; one she hadn't seen since that night she and Karley had run off to the carnival.
Willow covers her mouth, gently squeezing her face to prevent a painful smile as she met his red gaze. She blinks away a sudden onset of tears; the intense rush of emotions seeking to escape by any means possible.
"Perfect," She murmurs, taking the dragonborn's hand and falling into the bed of moss beside him. An unfamiliar feeling washes over her, leaving goosebumps in its wake--contentment.
You all find rest at the end of a very long evening, having learned a great deal this day, much of it about yourselves. Your perfect rooms, tailored to you desire, help you to find the peace of sleep.
In the morning, you settle up with Tsu. Khalil's scroll and Willow's hour cover the bill, and she returns ownership of your names to you. She's eating a plate full of bacon as you finish your own breakfast and prepare to depart. "Be careful out there, and be careful who you trust. Perhaps our paths will cross again one day." She smiled, and you could see the glint of a few metal teeth.
The stories he had heard - and frankly had told - over the years about Baba Yaga sent a shiver down Vashrin's spine as he caught the glimpse of Tsu metal - possibly iron - teeth. There's no way she's...no...plenty of room for metal mouthed witches... he thinks to himself before turning his attention back to the remainder of his breakfast and his fellow Defenders.
"If we are to go after the harengon, which is what I believe we should do, we would be wise to make use of the supposedly secret tunnel on Elmer's map. Particularly in light of my little encounter Jinko last night."
When Willow descends in the morning, she is fully armored again, her leathers cleaned and polished of the Meenlock's blood and swamp-muck thanks to Nuruk's assistance. She knew little about really taking care of armor--she never really had need at the carnival; the purchase was in anticipation of seeing her friends on their home plane again. After a night's rest in the inn, even after all of the excitement, she felt calm, confident, and content.
She sits with Nuruk as they eat breakfast and look over the map they had gotten from Elmer, studying their options. "I agree, Vash," Willow says between bites of bacon, tracing their possible route with a purple finger. "We don't want them coming to her rescue later...and they may have information we can use against her, as well."
Before they leave, Willow catches Tsu's eye and nods respectfully to the woman, thinking nothing of the proprietor's metal teeth. Just one hour? She thinks, tearing her gaze away as they walk out the door. What does that even mean? Do I lose a memory? An hour of my lifespan? The tiefling sighs loudly, brows furrowing as she mulls over her promise. I should have asked more questions before agreeing to that...
Whether they tackled the bunnies or the boggard burrows of Downfall, Khalil had no real sense of one being more important that the other. But a further weakening of the hags allies, and therefore the hag, made sense. So the druid nods his agreement as the suggestion is made to head north.
The Defenders set off into the swamp once more, after getting some directions from Tsu regarding which direction the Inn had wandered while you'd all been enjoying her hospitality.
After the comforts of the Inn, and the reminders of civilized life, trekking though the bog once more was a daunting prospect. Your raft was still tied off to one of the porch posts, and you all returned to your seats upon it, heading towards the north.
A foggy marsh stretches out before you, unbroken, for several hours. Up ahead you see something barring your way. Rickety causeways made of wooden planks emerge from the swamp like a boardwalk, forming a wide, web-like structure above the bog. As a bit of the fog clears momentarily, three hundred feet away, you can see many of these causeways converge on an enormous, ivy-covered tree stump that rises a good ten feet above the twenty-foot-high fog bank that otherwise enshrouds it. One of the causeways leads directly into a hollowed out section of the stump. Nearby, an o’-well spews swamp water into the air.
Willow spends the majority of the trip sitting in the center of the raft, fighting a mildly upset stomach from the rocking of their vessel.
"I'm betting that's where we want to go," Willow says while pointing at the giant tree stump, more than aware she's stating the obvious.
She glances around while wrapping her arms around her knees, catching sight of the o'well. "Ugh, a swamp geyser. Horrible. Guess we should look for a place to land..."
Willow squints and can't see anything through the fog, much to her deep frustration. She grumbles slightly under her breath, hoping one of the others has better luck.
Vashrin frowns seeing the swamp geyser. "I suppose it was too much to hope to stay relatively clean for a day..."
At Willow's suggestion, the keen-eyed half-elf looks around for a suitable place to land.
Just like before Khalil helps pole the raft through the murky waters of the swamp. Despite the dank waters and constant shroud of fog, the druid can still appreciated the life teaming all around. Frogs croaking, birds singing their eerie tunes. The various catcalls and screeches of tree cats and other more mysterious denizens.
"Blast and damnation!" He shouts slapping at yet another mosquito. The call of the swamp dwelling human.
Coming upon the massive stump and the nearby geyser, he lets loose with a low whistle at the maze of causeways, ramps, and ropes. Turning away from the mishmash of pathways, he tracks Vashrin's gaze and makes for the landing spot pointed out by the keen eyed elf.
Nuruk has grown more confident since the last time he had been on the raft, using his strength to help steer it through what seemed like endless marshlands. Through the fog, structures begin to emerge as these many causeways follow towards what appeared to be a massive tree stump that rose thirty feet into the air. The o'well spewing water makes the deep and dank stench of the swamp that much more vivid and even the dragonborn has to cover his nose for a moment to acclimate to the powerful scent of rot and decay.
"You all see anything?" Nuruk says just as he sees Karley uncork some strange decanter that he vaguely recognized. Without a moment to truly appreciate what was happening, the decanter began to suck in the water of the swamp within itself. Falling to his knee, the brave paladin crawled to Willow to try and stay in the center of the raft as everything began to shift.
Willow stays sitting in the middle of the raft, trying to maintain her balance while the swamp is being taken care of by the strange decanter. She reaches out a hand and helps steady Nuruk as he crawls to the middle. "Never a dull moment," She comments to nobody in particular, looking around again to see if anything worth noticing was revealed.
As she looks around, a bit of swamp water splashes up, and she has to move away quickly to avoid it, distracting her from seeing much of anything at all.
You pull the raft up alongside the small hump of land into which the spewing geyser resided.
The decanter had emptied the oozing o'well, draining it dry and halting, for now, the slow filling of Hither with swamp water. Peering into the stone well, you see slick, slimy, algae-covered walls leading about twenty or thirty feet down into the ground, ending in metal grated floor. Karley's torchlight reveals a hole broken into the side of the wall at the bottom, big enough even Nuruk would fit. The tunnel.
The well was fairly narrow, about five feet wide, so you'd have to descend single-file. There was no sign you'd been seen by any lookouts closer to the large tree stump.
Willow stands unsteadily on the raft and disembarks, leaning over the well's edge. The tiefling did not relish the thought of spelunking down the disgusting walls in order to reach the tunnel, but it seemed that was what they needed to do. She heaves a heavy sigh and unhooks a length of rope from her pack, looking around for a place to anchor it.
"We can descend down the side, which...will be disgusting," She grimaces at the thought of the thick, congealed slime coating any part of her freshly-cleaned clothes and armor. If they were to truly defeat the hags, she would have to get used to getting grimy...even if it rankled her.
"And to keep me from losing the rope...I can just unhook it and jump down," She says, gesturing to the feather that she kept braided in her hair. "I have this trinket still. The one that kept me from getting badly hurt when we first got here. I can jump down without getting hurt at this distance."
Vash nods in agreement with the assessment of the situation.
"I suppose I can go first and get it out of the way." he says, not relishing the idea of the slime covered walls.
Khalil waits until it is his turn and then climbs down the rope. He is less worried about getting his coat or boots dirty. The garments were already plenty travel stained. Instead he simply takes care to avoid the slippery slime so it doesn't send him tumbling down the well by accident.
Nuruk would wait for a moment for each of his companions to head downwards, looking towards Willow before giving her a big smile.
"See you down there, love." The paladin would whisper, bumping his snout against her forehead before taking the rope and trying to climb down. He had hoped his boots would find the walls less slimy, thanks to the magical trinket he wore on his belt.
Willow closes her eyes and leans against the dragonborn, rolling her forehead against his snout affectionately. "Be safe," Willow replies softly before leaning down to watch the Defenders descend into the well. "Clear a space for me to land when you all get down there," The cleric calls down, trying to pitch her voice low so as not to call attention to their endeavors.
Once everyone made it down and she had space, the tiefling would roll the rope back up and stow it away, then hop down into the well, relying on the feather trinket to ease the descent.
With the rope to help, you all make your way down, Willow trying to avoid the slimy walls as she floats down but drifting into them at one point and smearing a stringy mass of algae along one sleeve. You duck into the small tunnel as you reach the bottom -- the ceiling is low, only about 4 feet high, all of it built from poorly fitted stone bricks. Water falls from the saturated ground above like a steady rainfall, and the floor is slick with moisture and moss.
It's a long way, and Nuruk's back is feeling the strain of being hunched over by the time you reach the far end, some 300 feet away. The end of the tunnel bears a wooden trapdoor in the ceiling, and Vash, being in the lead, opens it carefully and peeks through the gap...
The trapdoor leads into a wedge-shaped room -- you're inside the large tree stump, and the curved wall is the trunk of it. The room is cluttered with weapons and other supplies, some haphazardly placed, others moderately organized. A few pieces in particular are placed on wooden pedestals in an effort to make their unimpressive models look important. Across the room, fused into the wooden wall itself, is a wooden statue of a woman. The room appears to be otherwise unoccupied.
Willow makes a noise of disgust as she lands at the bottom, shaking off her sleeve despite the futility of the motion.
She follows along behind everyone, hunched over as well. She would follow everyone through the trapdoor, taking a moment to stretch out and crack her back after the uncomfortable journey. The cleric would rub Nuruk's back affectionately, looking at the dragonborn with sympathy--the journey through the tunnel had to be much harder on him. She does not, however, express any worry or concern over it.
After a moment of stretching, the tiefling looks about around the room and finds herself immediately drawn to the statue of a woman. She moves quietly over toward it and studies it, trying to determine if she can figure out who it might depict.
Willow recognizes the statue is, in fact, a petrified dryad. She's not sure how to go about un-petrifying her, though.
"A petrified dryad you say?" Vash asks in confirmation. The bard drifts into his own thoughts, trying to recollect anything that may pertinent to de-petrifying the dryad in any of the stories he had encountered throughout the years.
"Yep, petrified...I have a spell that helps similar conditions, but not that one, unfortunately." The cleric frowns, glancing about at the others and stepping away to make room in case they'd like to investigate the dryad. She looks around at the other things in the room, looking for some hint as to what might have caused the petrification.
As she shuffles about the room, she kicks up some dust that causes a sneezing fit and distracts her from her search.
"A shame." Vash says absentmindedly, glancing back at the petrified dryad. With no other thoughts on the subject coming to mind, Vash goes about looking around the room with Willow.
Nuruk emerges from that tunnel with a furrowed brow and a scowl on his face. It takes a solid half of a minute for him to slowly arch his back, the sound of metal moving mixing with the cracking of his back made it difficult to differentiate between the two. Willow's gentle touch brings a small smile to his face as he takes out his axe and settles it onto his shoulder. Stepping forward, he keeps an eye out on any doors leading out while the more perceptive and curious members of his party span out.
"A dryad? Petrified? How heinous..." Nuruk murmurs, his red eyes scanning the room. "Perhaps there is a cure, I remember there being potions and ointments that could treat such a condition. A rarity but still something we should look for."
Once he was certain that the room was safe, Nuruk would begin looking around the piled debris close to whatever exit was closest. Curiosity was a childish quality and the Light loved those who would foster it.
Gaining the end of the tunnel Khalil gratefully stretches his back and looks about the odd shaped room. His heart lurches when he sees the poor petrified dryad. He remembers the interrupted conversation with the young dryad at the inn and wonders if this poor creature and the youth are connected in some way.
"Undoubtedly another victim of the hags foul magics. I wonder if this stump used to be her tree?" The druid says as he examines the room for anything that might help cure the curse upon the fae. As he looks, he ponders the various ways, natural or magical, that might bring the creature back to her natural state.
Khalil stares thoughtfully at the dryad, and he could swear he sees the eyes move. Leaning forward to inspect more closely, he hears, ever so faintly, "Water...please..."
Vash, meanwhile, performs a quick inventory of the armaments in the room. The walls are lined with ten sets of clubs, slings, light crossbows, bolts, leather armor, and one set of studded leather armor.
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Initially Khalil glances around to see if maybe Karley was playing a bit of trickery on him. But with the halfing engrosses elsewhere he peers closer at the dryad. Am I just hearing things? But then he just catches the briefest movement of those wooden eyes.
Gasping with surprise, he quickly grabs his waterskin and holds it up to the fae's petrified lips and squeezes out a small amount water.
"Would you like more?" He says softly, looking to see how much, if any, of the water actually appeared to be drunk by the dryad. "How can we help you?"
After her sneezing fit is over, Willow hears Khalil talking to the wooden dryad and goes to peek over his shoulder. "She's speaking? Oh..." She trails off, brows furrowed with deep concern. "Gods, I hope she hasn't been petrified for long..."
Vash inspects the studded leather more closely. It's currently of a size to fit any of them but Karley, and it's in exceptional shape -- he notes small runes traced onto it and suspects it might even be enchanted.
Khalil's water trickles into the dryad's mouth, and like a spreading stain, the petrified wood of her face transforms to green-tinged flesh, her jaw coming free, then her eyes fluttering as they blink for the first time in who knows how long. Her hair, flowers sprouting from it in places, softens, and her body, clothed in leafy swathes that form a dress, comes free from the wall.
Soon, she's herself again, stepping forth on unsteady legs. Unfortunately, she stepped into the lotion Karley had fired her way, which had dripped off of her still-wooden form. Her bare feet slip and she would have fallen, but she grabs onto Khalil's shoulders as she steadies herself, holding onto him for stability. She smiled with relief, looking around at all of you over Khalil's shoulder.
"Oh....thank you. I've been trapped there for so long." She kissed Khalil's cheek in gratitude and stepped out from the lotion, letting her grip on him go when she is on ground less lubricated.
"My name is Demalyn. I don't know how to repay you, but I will do what I can." She curtsies, her leafy dress ruffling, a few flowers beginning to blow from it before your eyes.
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Awe fills Khalil's gaze as he watches the dryad slowly return to her true form. Awe that quickly flashes to surprise as she nearly falls, grabbing his shoulder. Instinctively his own arms wrap her in an embrace to keep her from tumbling to the floor. Surprise is overcome by shy embarrassment as her lips brush his cheek and he is astutely aware of his arm still wrapped around her waist and her intoxicating scent of spring flowers and newborn leaves.
Seeing she is safely clear of the lotion, he reluctantly draws his arms away and nervously clears his throat. "Ahem...I...I am Khalil." He stammers before trying to regain some bit of composure. "To see you well and free from such a terrible state is repayment enough for me." He add dipping his head and trying to remove the goofy smile that has for some reason parked itself upon his face.