View source for 7 - The Walking Inn

{{SessionLog
|ID=7
|Title=The Walking Inn
|Subtitle=And the Keeper of Keys
|Author=Frostbite
|DatePlayed=05-01-2025
|DateInGame=Day 10-11
|Log=
[[Frostbite]] noticed it first — the air hung heavier, the water rippled with an unnatural rhythm, and the horizon carried a shadow that reached above the treetops. The faint thudding of many feet reverberated through the muck. The group exchanged uneasy glances, their boots sinking into the rising water.

For the smaller members, [[Brolin]] and [[Zephyr]], the water posed a real challenge. [[Zephyr]], flitting above, managed to avoid most of it, but [[Brolin]] struggled. [[Frostbite]], ever practical, offered to carry him. But the proud creature declined with a gruff wave of his hand, his jaw set in determination. [[Frostbite]] shrugged and adjusted his stance, eyes narrowing on the shadow ahead.

"That’s got to be her," [[Frostbite]] muttered, his icy breath misting the air. "The witch."

"Or something worse," [[Ashira]] replied, her tone clipped. Her hand rested on her bow as they trudged toward the moving behemoth.

[[File:WalkingInn.jpg|175px|right]]
As they closed the distance, the shadow resolved into an unbelievable sight — a house. It moved on dozens of spindly legs, like a bizarre amalgamation of a many legged creature and a mansion. Its windows glowed with warm light, and dozens of floating lights bobbed around it, smaller than will-o’-the-wisps but just as ethereal. The swamp water rippled around its base, settling as the inn came to a stop.

When the group approached, [[Maeve]] — ever the bold one—knocked. The voice of an elderly woman answered from inside, beckoning them to hurry before the inn started moving again. As they entered, the interior defied logic — it wasn’t the chaotic hovel they expected but a warm, well-kept inn. The woman introduced herself as Tsu, the Keeper of the Inn at the End of the Road.

"What road is that?" [[Frostbite]] asked, his tone suspicious.

Tsu smiled enigmatically. "Exactly."

The smell of stew drew [[Frostbite]]’s attention, his stomach growling. Tsu explained the rules of the inn: all were welcome to stay, but the rule of reciprocity demanded payment of equal value. After a moment’s hesitation, [[Frostbite]] handed over the wand he had won at the Witchlight Carnival — a painful but necessary gift. He grumbled as he relinquished it, but the stew turned out to be worth it, rich and hearty.

Over dinner, Tsu and the other patrons — a pair of pompous bullywugs, a goblin, and a few others—provided useful information. The group learned the shadow they had followed was not the witch’s lair but Tsu’s inn. The witch’s corruption had transformed the swamp, cutting off paths to the other areas of Prismere. The only way to Downfall, the bullywugs’ village, was through the Brigands' Tollway.

Later that evening, [[Zephyr]], changed into a fob as well through an illusion, struck up a conversation with the two frogfolk. [[Frostbite]], attempting to use the rule of reciprocity, offered to protect them on their journey. The "count" haughtily insisted that [[Frostbite]] kiss his ring in return. Stunned and at a loss for words, [[Frostbite]] could only glare silently while [[Zephyr]] smoothly extracted a starmap to guide them to Downfall.

The night at the inn was restful, [[Maeve]]'s performance upgrading their accommodations. Still, [[Dhanell]] remained vigilant, unwilling to trust their surroundings. By morning, the swamp water had receded, and the group departed with the starmap in hand, ready to face the challenges ahead.

<h3>A River of Visions</h3>
The group stopped at a clear river to refill their waterskins, but [[Frostbite]] stood apart, arms crossed. As the others filled their skins, they described strange visions: a scarecrow with crab-like hands swapping heads, a witch in a bath scrubbed by toad-like creatures, and a shadowy figure climbing into a stilted house.

"You not filling up?" [[Ashira]] asked.

[[Frostbite]] shook his head. "Don’t need it. I’ve survived worse and cleaned worse. This swamp water’s no different." He patted his half-full waterskin. "I’ll manage."

While the others puzzled over their visions, [[Frostbite]] stayed quiet, unconcerned. To him, the river’s secrets weren’t worth the risk—or the distraction.

<h3>The Keeper of Keys</h3>
[[File:JingleJangle.jpg|140px|left]]
As the swamp gave way to grassy slopes, a sweet scent of fruit filled the air. The ground seemed to undulate gently, as though alive. Atop a ridge lined with swaying willow trees, the group was stopped by two sentient trees. Their slow, rumbling voices spoke of Jingle Jangle, a goblin who had been robbed of her truffles and was in desperate need of help. Promising aid, the group was allowed to pass.

The keyhole-shaped entrance to Jingle Jangle's cave revealed a bizarre hoard of keys. Keys hung from walls, shelves, and ceilings, some ornate and others rusted. The goblin herself appeared, clad in jangling clothing adorned with keys. She wielded a flail with padlocks as its heads, her demeanor equal parts timid and eccentric.

When the group asked for a key to free Sir Talavar, Jingle Jangle hesitated. [[Frostbite]] watched her carefully, noting her lingering glances at their equipment. It was [[Ashira]] who bridged the gap, summoning a fey conjured berry and offering it to the goblin. Jingle Jangle’s gratitude was palpable as she devoured the berry and eagerly retrieved the key.

Sir Talavar was freed, and in his gratitude, he bestowed a magical dagger upon the group — a weapon of impressive craftsmanship for its size. Jingle Jangle, meanwhile, shared critical information about the witch: she could create identical copies of herself, and the scarecrow in Downfall held the key to navigating to Tither. She lamented her own obsession with keys, a compulsion tied to the fear stolen from her by the witch.

As they left the cave, one of the sentient trees presented [[Maeve]] with a single key, murmuring that it would help them on their path. [[Frostbite]] stared at the tree, his icy demeanor briefly thawed by curiosity.

"What does that mean?" he muttered.

The tree’s branches creaked, but no answer came. Instead, the group pressed on, their next destination clear — Downfall, its scarecrow, the Bullywugs and the evil witch awaited.
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