Bargains, Beheadings, and Beating Hearts
Amrynn
The dampness of Hither has a persistent way of seeping into one’s bones, but tonight, the chill has been temporarily banished by the warmth of a roaring bonfire and the scent of magically-reproduced ale. We have severed the head of the beast, quite literally.
Our victory over the taxidermy chimera outside the Soggy Court was met with immediate, if a somewhat forced, hospitality. King Ickrind, welcomed us into his castle and thanked us for slaying the chimera. According to his account, the swamp fell into chaos a mere day or two after our previous departure. The chimera had emerged from the center of the swamp, near Bavlorna’s cottage, followed closely by a plague of taxidermy zombies. A clear correlation, suggesting our previous meddling had agitated the hag.
After being presented with a rather unappealing swampy soup as a feast, the King begrudgingly yielded some practical assets as a reward for our martial efforts. With our pockets heavier and our resolve set, we boarded one of the castle’s boats and set a course for Bavlorna’s cottage. Our objective was twofold: deliver the painting of her sister, Skabatha Nightshade, to fulfill our bargain, and then, in all likelihood, eliminate the hag.
Upon our arrival, we found Bavlorna waiting for us, perched atop a massive lily pad floating in the central pool, flanked by her grotesque lornlings. She was acutely aware of our recent transgressions, yet the ancient, binding laws of Feywild bargains forced her to complete our transaction first. I surrendered the portrait to one of her lornlings. In return, I received a backscratcher, which morphed back into its true, familiar form upon my touch and my hand was fully as it was before. I try and fail to ignore what state must have become of it while it was in the hag’s possession. Another lornling delivered a jar containing a luminous entity to PB, which ended up being his fabled sprint, 7-Up.
But hags are nothing if not vindictive. The moment the transaction concluded, Bavlorna declared that we must pay for our actions, and her lornlings lunged.
The ensuing combat was a chaotic study in physical and metaphysical force. The hag’s animated lily pad sprouted long, whipping tendrils, and in a flash, she snatched Barnabus straight out of the air, stuffing our avian companion into her cavernous maw. Recognizing some fragment of the enchantment animating her floating platform, I channeled my arcane energy to temporarily unravel the threads of magic binding the lily pad. The sudden loss of her levitating mount threw her off balance, forcing her to release Barnabus.
With the hag grounded, our companions unleashed their fury. PB entered a feral, protective rage, charging her with his longsword. Melina summoned her temporal echo, striking with dizzying speed and carving massive chunks of mud and flesh from the hag’s form. Barnabus, showing remarkable resilience after his near-consumption, flew counter-clockwise, widdershins, around her head. The result of this ancient counter-curse was highly effective, reducing the formidable hag to a fit of violent, uncontrollable sneezing that distracted her momentarily.
In a desperate bid, Bavlorna dislocated her jaw like a serpent and clamped down on PB. He struggled fruitlessly to break free, but Melina moved with peerless martial agility. She sprinted across the chamber, dispatch a lornling that was harassing PB without breaking her stride, and used PB’s own shell as a springboard. Performing a breathtaking mid-air somersault over the hag. She landed in a flawless stance and delivered two deft blows, the latter severed Bavlorna’s head with an elegant stroke, pulling it clean off our shelled companion.
With the mistress of the cottage dispatched, we reclaimed the painting and conducted a thorough investigation of the premises. In the kitchen, we once again encountered the redcap, Bloody Toes. Freed from his mistress’s leash, the creature foolishly sought to indulge his murderous impulses upon us. We corrected his error swiftly and permanently.
Our search then led us to a magical freezer. After forcing open a heavily frosted chest, we discovered a still-beating heart, which was unnaturally keeping the entire pantry cold. I deduced this belonged to Octavian, the tragic elf we had encountered previously with the aura of sadness. We secured the entire chest to transport it safely.
Perhaps the most intriguing find, however, was in the aviary. I discovered a crumpled missive addressed to Bavlorna from “Endy”, undoubtedly her sister, Endelyn Moongrave. The letter read implied that Bavlorna had blamed her sister for stealing the thread and that her “creations” would be less effective. The strange thread we recovered after defeating Charm’s shadow was indeed Bavlorna’s. It seems the sisters’ mutual distrust has worked to our advantage, leaving Bavlorna’s taxidermy creations incomplete and vulnerable which likely turned the tide of the battle with the chimera.
We returned to the Soggy Court to deliver the news of Bavlorna’s demise. The bullywugs erupted into immediate, raucous celebration, but our work in Hither was not quite finished. We sought out Octavian to the southeast, who still sat enveloped in his profound, magical melancholy. We presented him with the frozen chest. As we released the beating heart, it dissolved into his chest, seamlessly replaced by a gray goat’s heart. The transformation was instantaneous; his sorrow vanished, replaced by a vibrant, almost jarring cheerfulness. In gratitude, he bestowed upon me his pipes. It is a fascinating arcane object, capable of stirring dread in the hearts of those who hear it.
To properly inaugurate the bullywugs’ freedom, and perhaps to indulge a small desire for dramatic closure, I stood upon the shore and launched a fireball directly into Bavlorna’s abandoned cottage, watching the wretched structure burn against the swampy twilight. PB graciously supplied gallons of ale from his alchemy jug, and the court celebrated long into the night.
Yet, our journey is far from over. Tomorrow, we set our sights on the realm of Yon. We must locate Melina’s lost twin and find Amador, the dandelion. The hags of the Hourglass Coven are falling, but the final act of this play promises to be the most perilous yet. I must keep my wits sharp; the lands of Yon will surely test our resolve.