Chapter Text
-.Tav.-
A melancholy melody fills the air as your party enters an isolated ledge overlooking the druid’s grove. The rhythmic strum of a lute is accompanied by a young woman singing; her voice is, at best, an acquired taste - if one could acquire the taste for sharp nails clawing on a chalkboard, or a rusty fork scraping against porcelain.
Nearby, two squirrels writhe in the throes of audial agony. Their furry paws pressed firmly against their ears in a failing attempt to keep the terrible tune out. Sitting behind them atop a rock is their torturer; a purple-skinned, pink-haired Tiefling dressed in a harlequin clown outfit, bells and all. Oblivious to the plight of these critters, she loops through several lines of an incomplete song as if doing a retake would eventually improve upon her dreadful delivery.
Karlach, your newest companion, crouches down next to the squirrels before striking up a conversation, “Hey, mates. You two alright there?”
One of them squeaks back at the barbarian’s greeting whilst angrily pointing towards the self-styled bard, “Please! Make it stop! Help us drown out this awfulness.”
“Ha! You’ll be alright,” she replies, “Let me see if I can help with that, yeah?” The hellion breaks out into a series of high-pitched chittering, prompting the two squirrels to join her soon afterwards – their collective chirping gradually growing in intensity.
Karlach can speak with animals: a useful trait for the party to have in the journeys to come. It does, however, make your earlier purchase of a potion of animal speaking seem frivolous; perhaps the Halfling who it was acquired from could be persuaded to accept a return.
In an uncommon occurrence of unsuppressed joy, Shadowheart is beaming. A grin manages to slip its way onto her face before it just as quickly transitions into a shocked flinch of pain when a fluorescent purple brand flashes on her right hand. The half-elf clutches at it reflexively before covering up the pulsing mark with her other palm.
“It - it’s nothing.” the cleric stammers, swiftly halting any inquiry into the matter before returning her gaze towards the barking barbarian. For a second, she bears a fleeting hint of simmering jealousy upon her face before willing her icy façade to resolidify.
“Chk. This is a waste of time; we should be dedicating ourselves into locating a Creche,” Lae’zel cuts in, “I doubt any of the local wildlife would be of any use in our search for a cure. This encounter will prove fruitless.” As the Githyanki berates your visit to the grove, Karlach and the squirrels suddenly burst out in laughter. There is a short pause before their screeching begins anew, steadily increasing from an inaudible whisper to blaringly booming.
INSIGHT CHECK: Success!
As much as it pains to admit, there is truth in the Gith's words. Whatever discussion Karlach is having with the squirrels doesn’t sound remotely useful to your goal of locating any form of cure. In fact, it seems like the barbarian is in a pitch-raising match with these creatures. Nonsensical squirrel-speak flows from her lips as they take turns upping the decibels of their screams in what seems to be a contest to howl the loudest - likely in an attempt to drown out the musician’s incessant screeching with even louder yelling.
If the party is to find a healer or a creche, Karlach’s current approach will not yield the desired results: maybe the purchase of that Animal Speaking potion will prove useful after all.
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