03-31-2017, 03:17 PM
Merri's air elemental rises to look around but reports nothing of interest, other than the oak forest with some very old trees. To the northeast, it can see the upper flow of the river that cascades from the cliff to form the lake. There is a slight breeze carrying the scent of flowers, and unsettling silence.
Myshnue leads the party through a treacherously twisting path, often barely visible to all but Toot. The tiny doodid has to direct even Boo to keep track of the other fey.
Eventually the party is led to a hollow beneath some old tree trunk. Myshnue instructs the party to wait about twenty feet from the entrance to the shallow cave and utters something.
"Don't do anything foolish," he warns, "Dozens of eyes watch your every move."
Those who speak Sylvan understand the sentence.
A minute passes until finally another figure appears out of thin air, sitting on a branch above the party's head. She's about as small as Portho but has much fairer skin. She has a gnarled staff; looks like an expended magic wand of the big folk; and wears a green cloak over a weathered, but still slender body. A silver brooch and some hairpins studded with precious or semiprecious stones sell her rank within the community. Toot looks over and over her carefully and thinks she's also fey but even the doodid cannot recognise the creature.
"Meet Cranberry, our elder." the cricket-fey says. "Elder, I found these people worthy of having a chance to face your challenge."
Cranberry looks over the weirdly mixed group with piercing eyes.
Myshnue leads the party through a treacherously twisting path, often barely visible to all but Toot. The tiny doodid has to direct even Boo to keep track of the other fey.
Eventually the party is led to a hollow beneath some old tree trunk. Myshnue instructs the party to wait about twenty feet from the entrance to the shallow cave and utters something.
"Don't do anything foolish," he warns, "Dozens of eyes watch your every move."
Those who speak Sylvan understand the sentence.
A minute passes until finally another figure appears out of thin air, sitting on a branch above the party's head. She's about as small as Portho but has much fairer skin. She has a gnarled staff; looks like an expended magic wand of the big folk; and wears a green cloak over a weathered, but still slender body. A silver brooch and some hairpins studded with precious or semiprecious stones sell her rank within the community. Toot looks over and over her carefully and thinks she's also fey but even the doodid cannot recognise the creature.
"Meet Cranberry, our elder." the cricket-fey says. "Elder, I found these people worthy of having a chance to face your challenge."
Cranberry looks over the weirdly mixed group with piercing eyes.
