Cedron and Raven - Into the Marsh

08 Newkolt 349 AC

The frog lets out a slow ribbit followed by a "One moment" and vanishes from view. A few seconds later the drawbridge begins to rattle open.

The bullywug bows to Raven and Cedron then pauses and turns his head to focus one of his large eyes on the swordsman. "Well played, Majesty. Zee Sugar Plum Fairy may be on zee outs with zee River King for stopping zee war with Riverbend but zee Witchlight Monarch has done no such theeng."

This area inside of the inner bailey is much quieter, with many gray-liveried servants moving about on matters of varying importance.

A large pool takes up most of the chamber, leaving only a narrow walkway around the perimeter. A stairway descends into the pool on its south side but it is guarded by some kind of ogre covered in green scales with gill slits showing on either side of its neck. The frog motions with one webbed hand and the merrow steps aside.

As the pair heads down the stairs into the Court, they pass through a transparent barrier of force that keeps water out, forming a giant air bubble beneath the surface of the river as it flows past. Within is a vast audience hall. Dozens of courtiers stand close together in little groups of three or four. There are small, winged pixies, a lanky ogre with a belt made of severed hands, a twisted hag, a quartet of gnomes, and an actual raven whose feathers are dusted with gold perches in the branches of a treant with fire-blackened bark.

The River King
as he appeared in 
"Wrath of the River King"

On a dais at the far end of the room, a pale-skinned humanoid with long blue hair, pointed ears, and silver eyes with no pupils wears a cloak of foam-trimmed dark blue and a vest of woven green reeds and willow branches. His crown shines like the sun on a lake, and his flowing hair curls and moves, though there is no wind. A tiny female fairy sitting astride a giant bee hovers beside his head. Two dogs resembling a cross between an eel and a greyhound lay at his feet.

“This castle and hall is magnificent!" exclaims the Minstrel of Progress. “A hall worthy of a grand king.” speaking loud enough to be heard by others as he strides into the room with his friend.

Although few heads turn, Cedron gets the sense that everyone present is deeply interested in the arrival of the two mortals. The bee-riding fae gives her mount a nudge, directing it closer to the throne.

“After our last meeting, I had hoped that we would go decades without seeing each other again. What brings you, Raven Straightbow?"

Raven scowls, "The same thing as last time, Your Majesty."

"Ellessandra?" The River King gives the bee-rider a weary look, and then turns back to Raven, "What is it that you think she has done, Sugar Plum?"

"I am in possession of information she has taken several of my companions to force a confrontation between her and I. I have come to ask you for her whereabouts."

The River King raises a single eyebrow, "And you think I will just give you this information?"

Cedron listens intently to the King and Raven. His mind racing. He thinks “Wait! Did he just say Raven’s name aloud?” Cedron continues observing and trying to quickly pick-up on “what might have been quite helpful information or…” he muses, “backstory”. Concluding silently to himself.

"I would accept this information as payment for preventing a war that would have consumed your people," Raven replies.

"Few mortals could have stood against my forces."

The swordsman nods. "True. Few LONE mortals could have stood against your forces. You know as well as I that any conflict would have escalated until mortal mages and priests led the mortals to your very doorstep."

The River King rises quickly to his feet. The bee-rider scrambles to get out of the way, her bee rising into the air and passing through the membrane that holds the water at bay. The fey monarch moves forward, flowing across the chamber with liquid grace and comes to a stop within a foot of Raven and smiles slyly. "Tell me, who told you of the crimes of the Crawling Fey?"

Raven takes a deep breath, well aware that what he is about to say would sound insane under any other circumstances, "A cat."

"Ah... I see," the River King shakes his head, "Wickerbell... be a dear and inform our friend here of Ellessandra's location. Wickerbell? Wickerbell?" The fey lord looks around, "Interesting but hardly surprising. She and Ellessandra were close before I married Ellessandra off all of those years ago. Follow the river downstream. The plain will flatten out, allowing the river to slow and spill over its banks to create a marsh. There, you will find an old temple that has been absorbed into the Feywild. You should find the Lady of the Crawling Fey within."

Cedron takes mental notes. “Follow the River. Flat marsh. Old temple.” He pauses briefly enjoying the similarity to one his first adventures where he followed some goblins to an abandoned temple in a marsh. “Hopefully, this will be as successful.” He thinks to himself.

As soon as the pair crosses the river that marks the edge of the River King's realm, the ground changes dramatically. No longer a lush river valley lined with majestic pines and oaks that teems with life, the land has become a fetid wetland dotted with low mounds. A rancid reek hangs in the still, listless air, undisturbed by even a breath of wind.

As promised, the river broadens and slows, becoming a vast, gray marsh beneath a vast, gray sky. Several times, the land simply stops, the trail submerged by expanses of water thirty or more feet across. It is at these times that Cedron fares better than Raven. While the elf is forced to wade through knee to hip-deep water, the minstrel-priest's enchanted boots carry him across the open gap as long as he does not stop.

The unmistakable sound of laughter, high-pitched and reminiscent of geese, carries across the wetland. A counterpoint of angry croaks rises in response, croaks that are repeatedly cut short. A few minutes later, as the Minstrel of Progress and the Sugar Plum Fairy approach another boggy stretch of open water with lily pads the size of dinner tables, they notice that the cattails have been braided into low archways. They slow in time to see a frog bounce, not jump, twice and roll through a lily arch. This is followed by a short burst of honking laughter.

"Excellent hoop, old chap! *honk*"

*honk* Why, thank you, Mister Rose. I often say that it's just a mallet of time. You miss 100% of the shots you don't whack, you know! Now... where did that next frog go? Ahhh... there we go."

As the adventurers push through a clump of tall grasses, a pair of long-legged wading birds distinctive brilliant pink plumage, long necks, and curved bills come into view. Both of them are standing ankle deep in water at the edge of the water. Each holds a long-handled wooden mallet in the feathers at the ends of their wings. One has his head down, looking from a rather dazed-looking frog that just stopped rolling towards one of the small braided archways just a few paces from the bard's feet. He draws back on the mallet and swings, whacking the frog and sending it skittering in a roll along the ground. The frog skips along the ground and rolls to a stop, just short of an arch.

That bird lets out a soft honk, "Oh, so close! Well, it would seem to be your turn, Mister Pink."

"It would seem that way, Mister Rose. I am in a very wicket-ed mood. I do love a good..." the bird looks up, spotting Cedron and Raven, "Why, Mister Rose, we seem to have attracted spectators. *honk*"

One bird raises one foot out of the water, tucking its leg up close to its body and stands staring at the adventurers. "Hello! Have you come to join our game?"

"It's called 'Croak-aye', hence the amphibians."

"A game of royals, you see."

"Yes, our cousins play it with a Queen..."

"In her Rose Garden. Very Posh."

“Croak-aye, you say?” Confirms Ced as he looks to Raven to determine if he has some kind of interest. “We’re in a bit of a hurry today. Perhaps on our way back.” replies the Minstrel.

“But you say THE QUEEN enjoys this game? Very posh indeed.”

The birds both stop, cocking their heads to the side to turn a yellow eye upon the bard. One beak cracks open in an approximation of a smile, "Excellent! We shall be looking forward to it."

"Yes. Quite forward, Mr. Rose. *honk*"

The birds watch as the two adventurers pass by and Cedron can feel their eyes on him, long after the two have passed out of sight.

Cedron and Raven pick their way along the marshy path. Mud squishes with each footstep, releasing the smell of rotting vegetation. Ground fog obscures the loose stones. Sickly cattails and tall grasses sway in a fitful breeze. The moon's wan light does little to illuminate the land. Clouds of gnats and mosquitoes and the skittering of unseen things are constant companions as the adventurers approach the knoll. A ruined church surrounded by scraggly, overgrown brush and a single, leafless tree with limbs twisted as if in agony stand atop the low rise. Somewhere, off in the distance, a wolf howls once and falls silent.