Outside 46

[Deathkeeper]

[Glade]

The cloaked person gives some semblance of relief. The dinosaur-person seems to be a little more lucid at the moment, at least. Maybe getting punched does that?

Anyway, they have to shake their head at the dinosaur bat person.

Maybe they would have tried to express to him that they might have been a she.

But they let that get stolen again. So it comes down to a wild guess. They try to look for names, descriptions, that click for them, anything.
And if the bata'saurus comes close enough they might poke him on the nose, because they don't have much else to do to thank him and they still think he's kind of cute.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

That guy gets his snoot booped!

But, sadly, the traveler has no voice for the proper sound effect. So that guy will have to supply it for them.

"Boop?" he offers. "You were a 'she' right? I'm pretty sure I noticed that," he says as he pokes at the wounds he suffered, wincing slightly. "Bleh. At least those will be gone when I actually wake up. Or maybe I could just-"

Oh wait.

He's not some weird beasty at all.

He's just some guy. Maybe he was the whole time, but it just wasn't obvious? The wounds all appear to be gone.

"Okay, so, female. So we can disregard all these male ones," he says, reaching over the traveler's shoulder and flipping a page, causing the words to be scattered. "You aren't from that nameless city I keep dreaming about, are you? The weird one that stretches on forever? If you are, then literally any of these could be right. Do you even recall what species you were?"

He frowns down at the book. Hundreds taken tonight. It could be any of them. But... for some reason six entries stand out. That guy gestures to them.

Linda, the Princess of All Lizards (who names a lizard Linda?)
Augusta the Dancing Hippo (what?)
Demeter, human the Knight of Silver Order (that sounds... mostly normal?)
Stella, a human Dreamer who lost her way (geeze, someone like me. Must have gotten really unlucky)
Helga, a Minotaur barbarian (what's with all these animal people? Animal people are weird)
Maria, a harpy space swashbuckler (okay, that actually sounds pretty amazing)

"Do any of those seem right to you? Because I'm getting a feeling from this section..."

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

The traveler nods, running a finger over the passage. It's definitely one of these!
But without definite labels, they're going to have to take a guess. And judging from what happened to the elf, some are stored together so it's possible they're going to be a little mixed up.

The traveler tries to find where these names should be held. And takes a long look. Though she looks to the guy for help, she gestures at her backside. She's certain she had a tail. She just can't remember if it was long, feathered, or tufted.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

"So one with a tail," the guy replies with a nod. "But that only rules out the two human ones. Unless there are humans with tails around here, which I wouldn't be shocked by."

Like a human with a lion tail and ears!

The dreaded cat-girl.

Or... lioness girl.

Whatever.

"It looks like the ones from tonight are stored over here," the guy says, pointing to a nearby shelf that only has a few gossamer jars on it. Unfortunately... it looks like each jar has two wispy motes of essence floating around in it. Though that's better than the dozens in many of the older jars. They've been pickled together to the point that they're little more than a glowing green slurry. There's no way someone could get a coherent self from those. Would be way too mixed up. Makes one wonder what they're even for... "I... hmm... They're just marked by the phase the moon was in when they were taken," the guy observes. "That's the best we've got. So it's one of these three."

The traveler might be able to pull out a single wisp without touching the other.

...maybe.

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

The traveler nods, and shakes the man's hand in thanks if he lets her.

But now they have to reach inside the cage. The traveler does so-
but without an identity, they have no established level of manual dexterity, and their hand touches both.
Oh, dear.

Luckily, our traveler doesn't end up being a cow knight or a dreaming hippo. Both of those would be very-
Well, one of those would be very odd.

But what Liria is, is a short, thin, scaly person partially covered in feathers. Deep, scintillating blue scales with long, colorful plumage like an exotic blue macaw. Three-fingered hands attached to wing-arms, with scaly legs with claws. Her face is mostly lizardy, but with feathers for ears and eyebrows. Her tail is long and lined with feathers on its end and top.
Of course, the process that left her a robed husk robbed her of everything, so the fey must have taken her stuff somewhere. Shedding her placeholder appearance, she's well, not exactly decent. Though clearly, she's much more comfortable with that than a mammal, as she immediately goes to give her new friend a hug.
"Oh, thank you so much! You're a wonderful help. I finally feel like myself again." she insists. Of course, she's wrong, she couldn't possibly have been both these people, but her brain can't really process that. The souls are all blended together now.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer Glade]

That's always a fun thought experiment. How do you know you're the same consciousness you were the day prior? All you have to go by are your memories. A different mind stuck into a new body with new memories, would they believe themselves to be anyone other than what those memories dictate? Probably not. How would they know anything else?

Aside from the few memories Liria has from wandering around as a husk, she doesn't have anything else to go on, either.

Regardless, that guy gets hugged by a little three foot tall birzard person! Arguably one might just call that a feathered dinosaur, but arguably one could call a chicken a feather dinosaur, too. That guy drops down on one knee for the hug since otherwise someone that short hugging him would be really awkward. "Hey it's no problem," that guy replies, hugging Liria back. "I've done this sort of thing before. I think? Probably. Usually it's easier to remember things I've dreamed about before after I actually wake up. Unless it's the exact same dream again. Or set in the same dream."

Once the hug is done, he'll stand back up again, casting his gaze around the glade. He has the sneaking suspicion that there might have been more fae involved with this operation, so they might not be out of the proverbial woods just yet. "Do you remember how these face-stealers caught you? And... uh... did you see where they dumped your stuff? I'm pretty sure goons like these strip people before they steal their faces. So all of your equipment is probably squirreled away in the glade somewhere unless they already pawned it off to passing goblin merchants."

Goblin merchants can be pretty shady sometimes.

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

"Nope! Don't remember a thing about that. Let's look around a bit. Finding my diadem and my stuff would be very much appreciated." Liria says. She'll be looking with her friend, though, not wanting to split up and go off alone in her currents state. "Where do you think they could have put them? And what about everyone else? If we shake these cages loose could they find their way home some day?" Liria doesn't want to just leave Helga and Augusta and the rest to their faceless fates.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

No memories of being caught, darn. Then it's pretty likely they just grabbed her while she was sleeping somewhere. That's what happens sometimes when people take naps in the wrong places. Just vanish and no one ever sees them again. Though... usually that's the result of humans being terrible, not fae kidnappings. The fae will only snag someone if they break their rules somehow. And, of course, the fae's rules are a bunch of made-up nonsense that they typically don't bother telling anyone about while still expecting them to be followed.

It's like a bunch of kids making up the rules to a game as they go and then singling you out for breaking the rules.

Even though they never told you what said rules were in the first place.

"If I were to wager a guess, I would say near the standing stone," that guy says, gesturing toward the ominous looking granite table. He'll start heading that way, making a point of walking at a measured pace so Liria doesn't have to jog to keep up. Short legs and all that. Upon getting closer to the table, our heroes will see that the stone is stained with blood and scribed with foul glyphs. Next to it is a stump with a leather bag full of various surgical tools tat probably haven't been sterilized ever. Made out of bronze, of course. Bronze and obsidian. Because no fae in their right mind would be lugging around steel. Near the stump are several large chests that appear to have been fashioned from hollowed out logs, each with a large brass padlock fitted on it. Judging from the faint scintillation of gossamer, the locks are probably enchanted.

That guy gestures at the trunks-

-then face palms.

"Okay, that's really terrible pun. But, uh... pretty sure those are what we're looking for," he says. Then at the mention of others, he gives a sad look. "Busting them loose with no one around would just result in a bunch of lost souls, will-o-wisps. At worst, we might end up with some sort of amalgamated ghost haunting this area."

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

"Oh. Well, maybe I'll take one or two with me. Better to sit on the mantle for a while and hope to find the owners than rot here. Anyway, did that guy we smashed have a key ring? I don't have anything right now to pick locks with." Liria asks that guy. She doesn't think it's statistically likely that she'd find the lost people, but from experience she would say she'd have taken any of the faces in the list, no matter how dissimilar to her real one it was. Yes, even the hippo. So maybe she can help someone with them.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Grove]

"Probably not the best plan," that guy points out. "Pulling anything out of the dreamlands is dangerous. Putting bottled ghosts on your mantle is really dangerous. This isn't like Zelda where bottling ghosts is a safe hobby."

He isn't sure if she'll get that reference or not, but it still had to be made.

The bat-wyvern person approaches one of the massive trees making up the edge of the glade, wincing a bit as his wounds appear again. He gives the huge fir tree an appraising look before nodding. "I'm going to get a high view on things. Check the baddies to see if either of them have the keys, but my gut says they won't. I'll see if I can't spot anyone else in here."

That said, he leaps onto the tree's trunk and begins scaling it with all the deftness of a giant squirrel.

...

It looks pretty silly.

Also looks like that 'split up' happened anyway. Maybe she should have said something out loud...

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Grove]

"Oh." Well, that won't work. Maybe she can find some way to gather the other victims? She just can't leave all these people to their fates.

But for now, she has to go to the bodies and look for keys. One thing at a time. She wants her diadem.

[Mee]

Jonas seems to space out during this line. If Grace is good people reader, she can see that Jonas is reflecting on past events. Past events that part of him clearly does not wish to share, yet another part of Jonas yearns to tell someone, anyone, of his turmoil. All Jonas says though after this moment of reflection: Hm? Oh, yes, fun. Genetics is a bit less fun though. One miscalculation, and you could accidentally create "Cthulhu on Ice" in human form.

Grace is pretty good at reading people. As though to counter that, though, she does tend to wear her own emotions on her sleeve, as it were.
"Thaaaaat doesn't sound like a good thing at all! Has, um, has that happened?" Grace asks, a look fairly extreme 'uh oh' on her face. "And no, while I might not have that problem, there was the day I accidentally combined a few things and it started pouring out this insanely lethal nerve gas. That wasn't a fun day."

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

That's the hard part, isn't it? Sometimes you can't help everyone. It's a painful part of living in a less than perfect world.

Liria won't find much on the vanquished bugbear. However, she WILL discover a note on the burned out elf. Unlike the script in the more dreamlike landscape, this note is plainly legible. Thank goodness.

You guys have been slacking off again. The client hasn't been very happy with the stock lately, either. If I catch either of you watering it down again, it'll be your asses on the cutting table. Double last night's yield by the time I get back from the market, or I'm not going to be the only one upset with you.
-M

Hmm...

Well, that isn't a key.

But it sounds like their boss is out at the moment. And if there's anyone who would have a key to the trunks full of treasures, it'll probably be the boss. Maybe the setting of a trap is in order?

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

Well, Liria hasn't got much to fight a boss fairy with. Her tiny claws and teeth probably aren't worth much. And her friend hasn't gotten back yet. She can take some of the gauze from the cages and tie it to the rack. Maybe she can topple the rack of the corrupted faces onto the boss-fey? She won't do that to the fresh ones. Just in case.

She'll try to do that without causing a huge ruckus while she waits for the wyvern to get back.

[Celticbear]

Grace is pretty good at reading people. As though to counter that, though, she does tend to wear her own emotions on her sleeve, as it were.
"Thaaaaat doesn't sound like a good thing at all! Has, um, has that happened?" Grace asks, a look fairly extreme 'uh oh' on her face. "And no, while I might not have that problem, there was the day I accidentally combined a few things and it started pouring out this insanely lethal nerve gas. That wasn't a fun day."

Jonas looks up, and says: His name is Michael. I will fix him, along with the rest of my... mistakes.

Jonas says this with gravity, with an eerie calm.

Krell, a mage, had invaded my lab one day. He used insidious magic to cripple me, along with everyone else in the room. Banshee became mute, I became a cripple, Michael became... something else, and he stole something of mine. I lied earlier, when I said I was here on recruitment. I'm hunting Krell.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

It isn't too long before that guy returns, leaping off one of the high branches of the trees and stretching his arms wide as he nears the ground. Turns out he's got five fingers after all! Two of them are just elongated and bearing membrane for a huge pair of bat-like wings that are typically clamped tight against his arms. He gives a few strong wing-beats as he drops, slowing his descent and kicking up a whirling storm of fir needles. As soon as he's on the ground again, he tucks his wings out of sight.

"It looks like there's a wagon on the way here. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes out," he informs Liria. "But no one else was in the glade. The wagon might be goblin merchants, or maybe someone who works here. The glade didn't decay when those two goons went down, so whoever it belongs to must still be kicking. Did you find the key?"

He's hoping the answer is yes.

Liria certainly looks scrappy, but he doesn't want her to risk herself in another skirmish if it can be avoided. Especially because he's already injured. Normally he heals up from one night to the next, but that's always involved him waking up. And it feels like it has been days since he stumbled across this nameless city in his dreamings and hasn't been able to awaken since. Which... is somewhat concerning. Usually he can wake himself up without an issue. And if he can't wake up, either there's something wrong on the waking side or... well. Maybe dream-time is just really warped here. He's had a few dreams that felt like they lasted for days before.

Hopefully that's all it is.

Just an extra long dream.

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Glade]

"No, but I found a note. That wagon must be the boss. Maybe we can topple a rack of cages and take him out. I can't leave without my diadem!" Liria insists. Her heirlooms are very important.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Grove]

"A diadem is... a type of crown, right?" the guy asks, wanting to make sure he isn't thinking of something else. "Okay, okay, we'll get it back. We just need to be able to unlock those ugh... trunks... properly. I'm willing to bet if we just force them open they'll be empty."

A common problem with goblin-made chests.

Unless you've got the key (or a way to trick the enchantment) just cracking 'em open with a crowbar isn't going to work.

It's very fortunate that Liria has someone around who is familiar with all this dreamlands nonsense.

"Okay, so we'll just lay low and wait for the boss to show up. Then we dump a shelf on him. Sounds like a good plan," the guy says, giving a little nod. There are a few things that could potentially go wrong, but all in all it seems like a pretty solid course of action.

Now?

The waiting game.

A good fifteen minutes later, our heroes hiding behind a shelf ready to spring their trap, they'll spy a preternaturally beautiful elf strolling into the glade. And while he probably counts as an 11/10, that sour expression he's wearing totally ruins it. He was expecting his minions to be doing something useful! Not slacking off! "Bog! Laniael! Get out here this instant! NONE of the product is stacked where it's supposed to be!"

The fae hasn't shown any recognition of the fact that Liria and the guy are hiding. And he's juust now walking in front of their rigged shelf...

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Grove]

Liria is small, but her body has plenty of muscle, and when the elf stands into their trap she shoves the shelf of tainted wares directly in his direction, as quickly and as quietly as she can, hoping she can push it over in time before he realizes what's happening.

[Rebonack]

[Face-Stealer's Grove]

That guy likewise really puts his shoulder into it! He's isn't packed with super strength by any means, but the musculature required to make something as large and heavy as he is fly with any degree of agility is fairly impressive. With their combined effort, our heroes easily shove the shelf over on top of the evil fae elf!

"Wait, wha-"

And then it comes crashing down on top of him!

That jerk didn't even see it coming.

There a fizzling, popping sound along with the distinctive scent of dill. And a pretty gross crunching noise. And now we're left with a huge wax shelf, a bunch of broken bottles, and creepy looking amalgamated wisps slowly seeping up into the air. They boil and writhe, the skulls of various sapient creatures swelling to their surfaces before bursting like bubbles. Some of them drift about the grove, blindly lashing out at things while wailing in agony. Others just lay on the ground in a puddle, sobbing inconsolably with dozens of voices. And several more are slowly merging together into an ever-growing mass of ghostly ectoplasm.

Hmm...

Maybe this wasn't the best plan after all?

That guy gestures with one hand toward the shattered lump in the middle of the ruined shelves for a moment before sharply snapping his hand back, causing a large brass ring of keys to come zipping out of the wreck and thump into his palm. "C'mon, let's get your stuff and get out of here!" he says, more than a little bit of urgency in his tone.

[Mee]

Jonas looks up, and says: His name is Michael. I will fix him, along with the rest of my... mistakes.

Jonas says this with gravity, with an eerie calm.

Krell, a mage, had invaded my lab one day. He used insidious magic to cripple me, along with everyone else in the room. Banshee became mute, I became a cripple, Michael became... something else, and he stole something of mine. I lied earlier, when I said I was here on recruitment. I'm hunting Krell.

Grace's Lake

"Fix, like, actually fix?
Or fix like . . . not. Fix. And just like. You know. Kill them?" Grace asks, slightly worried about her new friend.

"Oh. Oh I see. That . . . well that seems like a good cause?" Grace frowns a bit. She had never had her lab raided. Had a cat come through a few times that had knocked some things over, but that was about the extent of it. Having your lab raided must be the worst thing.
"That sounds like the worst thing."

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Grove]

"Just throw the trunks onto the wagon!" Liria shouts, taking a moment to snatch the two cages that had flanked hers, and carries them off to toss them onto the boss-fairy's wagon. She's had an idea on how to save them, and she can't let them get gobbled by that horrible thing.
"Let's go!"

[Rebonack]

[Face Stealer's Grove]

That guy will move as quickly as he can! Remember how it was mentioned he doesn't have super strength by any means? Well those trunks are pretty heavy. And there are four of them to move. He glances back and forth between the cart and the trunks, grabs ones of them, squeezes his eyes shut and-

~Discontinuity~

-is suddenly in the back of the wagon, plopping the chest down. He gets a running start and leaps out of the back of the cart, unfurling his wings and flapping his way over the bubbling horrors. He dives down on the second chest, squeezes his eyes shut again, and-

~Discontinuity~

-reappears two feet to the left.

"Oh come on! I don't have time for this!" he growls. And then glances up just in time to notice that the huge (and rapidly growing) amalgamate has spotted him. "I really don't have time for this! Come on come on come on work!"

~Discontinuity~

Now he's in the cart, panting hard and draped over one of the trunks. There's still one left, too.

"We don't have time to get the last one! I don't think I can do that again! Let's get out of here!" he yells to Liria.

[Deathkeeper]

[Face-Stealer's Grove]

Liria dives into the cart, pumping her little wings. With a panic, she looks from her friend, to the pile of trunks, to the one remaining one. She refuses to bet three thousand years of family history on a gamble, even a gamble vastly in her favor.
Her eyes glow brightly, and she rips the trunk from the ground, causing it to go sailing into the pile with a mighty crash. Liria is unconscious instantly, leaving her wyvern friend to guide the wagon out of there.

[Rebonack]

[RUN AWAY RUN AWAY!]

With an "Eep!" that guy tumbles out of the way of the incoming trunk before scrambling up to the front of the cart where he discovers a pair of moose hitched to it. Moose with stone antlers covered in moss and lichen.

Sure.

Why not?

He grabs the reigns and gives them a flick, prompting the pair of critters to pull the wagon through the glade's threshold and to safety! And none too soon, either. With the glade's creator dead, bushes and brambles are quickly overtaking the clearing, choking out all open space and filling it with the same oppressive mist that permeates many wild portions of the dreamlands. The canopy above rapidly closes in, plunging the vanishing glade into perpetual twilight. A ruin haunted by lost souls.

The wagon crashes through the brambly gate and leaves what's left behind to be reclaimed by the thorns and the darkness.

....time passes strangely when you're asleep...

A Completely Normal, non-Enchanted Forest

When Liria comes too, she'll find herself laying on some hard-packed, gravely sand under the shade of a scraggly pine tree. The air feels warm and dry, and if she looks around she see that there's good reason for that. Rolling hills spread out from their perch, a huge granite spire looming a few miles away. The terrain is speckled with stunted pine, sage brush, Joshua trees, and the occasional cactus. Nearby is a small circle of stones where that guy has kindled a fire. And beyond him, stands the wage.

The faerie moose are still faerie moose, it would appear.

And just a little beyond that stands an imposing looking archway made of black obsidian shot through with streaks of pumpkin orange. Every now and again, images of an uncanny forest flickers from within the threshold.

"Hey, you're awake," that guy observes, once again looking like any typical guy. He's got a bronze pot simmering atop the fire. "I was starting to get worried, but I guess the smell of food revived you."

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-Enchanted Forest]

Liria pops up onto her claws, hobbling over to sit next to that guy, leaning against him.
"You make a very good vassal. You're ok, right? Is all the stuff ok?" she asks, looking around for the trunks and the cages.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Forest]

The guy pats Liria on the head. He's not sure how appropriate that is, but she booped him on the nose so that seems fair to him. I mean, come on, three foot tall birdlizard person? Between being child sized and looking like a cute animal what else are you supposed to do? NOT find critters like that adorable? The guy gives a little snort. "A good vassal? Can't say I've gotten that specific complement before. I'm fine, don't worry about me."

He gestures toward the wagon.

"Everything made it through fine. None of the gossamer bottles broke, thank God, and we got three of the four trunks. Which isn't bad odds. I haven't opened any of them, though. Figured I would save that for you since it's your stuff that you're looking for," he says as he fishes the brass key-ring out of his pocket and holds it out to her. "I found some food in the cart. And some cooking utensils. And a box of matches, of all things. Guess even fae don't like fiddling with flint and steel."

A beat.

"Though... considering the steel part I guess that makes sense. Only other option would be a friction bow."

He shrugs.

"Either way, it'll be a bit before the stew is ready. I have no idea what you eat, so I just tossed in a bit of everything. Go ahead and check on your things, I'll finish up here."

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-Enchanted Forest]

Liria drops into the trunks and digs through them. She finds her own things, plus Augusta's enormous tutu, dancing shoes, and bra. Helga's robes, some fairly normal clothes of various body types, including a tuxedo sized for a dragon which took up the entire third trunk. Liria immediately gets ideas. After a quick stop to check on the bottles, she comes back.
Liria's outfit includes comfortable but rugged clothes under a deep brown coat that loosely fits over her. It has no sleeves to give her wings room. Tucked into it is a short, needle-thin blade made from mithril, inlaid with gold and ivory. A similar looking hand-crossbow is tucked into a special holster. And of course, her diadem, laid gently over her head. A gold-mithril alloy with a shine that belies its age, inlaid with a trio of red, blue, and yellow gems.
"Thank you. And as long as there's meat in there, it's fine. You may bow to Princess Liria." she says with a toothy grin.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Forest]

"Haha, you were serious about the crown thing," the guy laughs, doing his best to provide an awkward bow given that he's both sitting on a rock and making sure the stew doesn't burn at the bottom. Campfire cooking is tricky. Never works evenly. "It's meat and vegetables. Not... totally sure what kind of meat, mind. But the cuts were big enough that I'm reasonably confident they weren't someone before getting butchered."

He would prefer to avoid eating people.

Seems like a reasonable line to draw.

"Princess Liria, huh? Interesting name. So, what are you princess of?"

Seems like a reasonable question.

...though.

Kind of odd that he doesn't introduce himself, isn't it?

He offers her a bowl of hearty stew!

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-enchanted Forest]

"I'm princess of the Archaea, home flagship of the Archeons, obviously." she says, sitting down at the fire to receive her stew.
"Speaking of, now that you are officially my escort, after the meal you can wear a uniform I found in the trunk that'll fit a fine winged gentleman such as yourself. I'll not have an escort in such drab attire without dire need. And I wouldn't have a nameless one, either." she insists, turning up her nose slightly at the thought.