C1E13: To Grandmother’s House

The FGC regroup after the grim battle with the corpse flower [https://www.dndbeyond.com/monsters/corpse-flower] and it's gullet-full of zombies [https://www.dndbeyond.com/monsters/zombie]. Taking a few moments to catch their breath, they explore the locked box they retrieved from the carriage and process both the wreck and what just happened to them (and, likely, to the carriage's passengers).

Picking their way across the wasted bridge and the cold, sluggish stream (with varying levels of success), our heroes make their way ever deeper into the swamp. Insects buzz around their heads. icy water pools in their boots. The footing through this part of the swamp is still treacherous, with unstable ground.

One misstep lands Phelan neck deep in a mud pit, which quickly turns comedy rather than tragedy when gratuitous magic gets involved. (Thanks, Khoraka).

However, from his lofty position above the group, his sensitive nose picks up the scent of rain, and a lot of it.

Never Coming Home The daily deluge begins, making everything and everyone here more cold and miserable than it already was.

As the company trudges on, they come to a gnarled tree that barely holds on to life.  Despite the thrumming rain, Khoraka and Ferric hear a sound that sends shivers through them that have nothing to do with the cold – the cry of a child.

Khoraka pulls the potter's wheel out and begins gently spinning it while an eerie, unchained melody plays. The sound draws the slight and shifting blue-white shape of a young, ghostly, tiefling boy out of the depths of the ancient tree, reaching out to touch the pot Khoraka is shaping on the wheel.

Khoraka attempts to engage the boy, but his conversation is limited to a few eerie, singsong phrases.

> Mummy told me never to go out at night. > Witches and Willies and wee little beasties, never go out at night. > Never went home. Need to go home. Erash, almost enjoying the relief that the rain brings him from the ever present buzzing of insects attracted to his light and warmth, studies the ghost and realizes that it's style of dress is likely from over a century ago, when Barelben was in its heyday.

Ferric places his hands on the tree to see if he can divine any more information by connecting with it. His vision fades as the tree shows him what it knows - the sounds of screaming, the warm wetness of liquid sinking into its roots, the sharp stab of hasty cuts against its roots.

Digging at the bsae of the tree reveals shards of bone and a brass medalion with one word on the front: Andram. On the back is what looks like a crudely carved map of the Labenda area, with a small mark near what is most likely Barelben.

Moved, Ferric gently wraps the amulet in a piece of fabric, and the FCG vow to take the boy home. Somehow.

The Folly > “Finally. I was starting to think we’d never get here. That there’s the folly. Keep your guard up. As I mentioned smugglers and guides use these parts in equal measure. But at least we'll finally be dry; just hopefully not dry and dead.” > Before you, rising out of the rain and the mist, are the low stone remnants of the walls of The Faithful's Folly. The panes of what was once a mighty windmill litter the ground and provide a makeshift bridge across the delta to another stone structure. Littered around the area are hastily-moored rowboats in varying states of repair. The FCG takes respite from the tiresome rain and starts a weak fire. The watch is largely uneventful, and the rain slacks as the hours inch onward. Phelan watches the near-full moon with foreboding. At the changing of the watch, in the dark of the night, he gives Snow a bit more insight as to why his uncontrollable transformations trouble him so much. There was a tragedy that still haunts his dreams, and he was given a pass by the Claret Order of the Lycan, mostly because he was still so young, and recently abandoned by one of their own. But if he slips up again, they'll hunt him down like the monster he is.

After a hot breakfast foraged by their guide, Khoraka casts an experienced sailor's eye across the boats and finds the two most "seaworthy" options... which aren't terribly sea worthy at all. But they'll do. The FGC piles into the boats and in the watery morning light makes their way up the tributary towards the opaque, fog-shrouded, and forbidding expanse of the Ounterloch.

The Ounterloch With Khoraka and Phelan at the oars, the party starts their way across the vast expanse of the Ounterloch. Even at the narrowest end of the body of water, it will take several hours to cross.

> The mossy green waters of the Ounterloch lie brackish and foul in the center of the Labenda Swamp. Home to swamp beasts and malevolent forces drawn to the mystic secrets buried beneath the algae and stones, this lake is a source of myths for folk all across the Marrow Valley. To pass the time, Sable regails Snow with tales of the Ounterloch's dark past.

> Many speak of the temple that once sat at its northern shore before the quaking of the Calamity sent it sinking down into the dark water. Others tell tales of the Marsh Siren who calls to people in their dreams and draws them into the swamp with her song. These unfortunate souls are lost to the marsh, or they drown in her embrace beneath the waters. > Most of us who make our livings on the Ounterloch, however, just talk about how miserable it is. And it's miserable indeed, when about halfway across Khoraka's boat is impacted by the wicked snout of a frilled, draconic water serpent [https://www.dndbeyond.com/monsters/young-sea-serpent] while its heavy tail coils around their tiny craft. ROLL FOR INITATIVE Y'ALL. Foolish mortals.

Their boat nearly capsized, the party runs their way across carrying what is left of their rowboats, thanks to Ferric's Water Walk [https://www.dndbeyond.com/spells/water-walk].

A parting of ways During some needed repairs to their watercraft (involving little mechanical spiders [http://www.microbotic.org/victoria.htm] who are needlessly maligned as being creepy), Erash sends Planksnapper into the air and lets his familar serve as his eyes. Three copses of trees, nestled at the feet of the Silberquel Ridge. With his sharp eyes, Planksnapper makes out signs that Granny Titchwillow is probably in the northernmost grouping.

As the party turns in that direction, the tides turn. Watching for foot traffic, Snow identifies two sets of tracks, one male and one female, leading AWAY from the realm of the witch and back towards the bridge at the southern end of the swamp. Guessing that these are the tracks of Suria Dwendal and her guide Leon, the group debates whether to continue to their original destination or to follow the tracks south. Arguing that their charge was to find and return the princess, Snow convinces the group to turn southward.

Expressing his concern at facing the full moon with a princess in tow, the FGC discusses and proposes leaving Phelan here in the depths of the swamp where he's far from other people. He doesn't argue, and agrees to stay where he is. The group tells him to catch up with them tomorrow.

Several hours down the road, Snow still has an eye on the tracks; they passed this way less than a day ago, so there are fresh prints in the mud that make them easy to follow, despite the recent rain. And so our heroes press onward towards their goal.

Read the Quote Napkin [https://aedificium-arcanum.com/to-grandmothers-house-quotes/]