As Nix, Darrin, Lorawyn, Korik and Bennet crowd around the end of the corridor leading into this new room, strange fungal growths and all, Nix pokes one end of a staff into a few of the tendrils and nodules, getting a strange recession from the strangely unnatural natural phenomenon. While parts retreat, others spread out and move. The room appears to be in a slow state of flux. Keeping her head low, she moves the staff to a more gelatinous portion of the strange dark fungus, the end sinking into it further than the floor would otherwise allow.
Darrin leans forward, pulling a knife and groping for his other, Simon jogging down the corridor to hand it to him. “Thanks, Simon.” Sliding his backpack from his back, Darrin gets out more sample jars from his herbalism kit and gathers samples. A long cutting from the stringy tentacle-like portions, and a few cuttings from the root-like tendrils and nodules grasping at the stone beneath them. The gel, however, just will not scoop up however Darrin tries.
Nix motions to Simon and asks for the light again. Uncovering the end of his staff that’s still lit, he casts his staff about. The fungus is pink and black and purple and blue, the smell still permeating the air and starting to seep into your clothes. Talison gets a bad feeling, a sense at the back of his neck that he can’t quite shake. Taking a moment, he concentrates to try and figure out where his feeling is coming from.
In the corridor Lorawyn can now see, thanks to the light, fresh bloody handprints on the left wall, old bloody handrpints on the right wall, and a fresh trail of blood leading from just in front of her to the large gelatinous shape on the far wall of the room, as though someone was beaten and dragged… into the wall? That can’t be right.
Adrik shifts uncomfortably, gripping and regripping his staff in his hands. “Is anyone else feeling a little uncomfortable in this situation?” Everyone turns for a moment save for Lorwayn, staring at the druid for something so simple as speaking. He had been mostly silent, sharing little in the way of stories or observations. Simon smiles a knowing smile at him, and everyone turns away again. Jila maintains a raised eyebrow for longer than he should.
Talison slowly raises his head to the ceiling, a headache and swirl of flashing thoughts striking through his mind. He flinches as each thought crystalises and is then shattered: a scream for help; the smell of fresh blood spray in the air; the dark grin of a madman; the feeling of sudden loss. His face contorted into a scream, Talison silently rages and grips the sides of his face tightly, pulling his eyes open and staring into the light at the end of Simon’s staff, blinding himself for a second. Blinking through it, Talison calms quickly as he is distracted with getting rid of the dark spots in his vision. Worried that he’s just lost his grip with his senses, as he’s about to mentally flagellate himself the hairs on his neck stand on end and he gets a knotted feeling in his stomach… something unholy is close. Breathing deeply and closing his eyes slowly, he concentrates on this feeling, moving his hands in the air, stopping he his palm points to something that makes the hairs on his arms stand on end.
Nix makes note of the rubble-filled doorway opposite, the tunnel heading down at the top of the room, the blood, the tendrils, all of it. While she mentally catalogues everything, she is reminded of the stories of the Unseelie court, a rumoured Fey underworld ruled by the Dark Fey. The stories mostly concern missing or disturbing children being taken and swapped by Dark Fey, although tales of mysteriously fungi nearby when this happens bring those stories to mind for Nix. She thinks for a moment. “Darrin… I don’t know if this is actually… Goop as you call it. But it might be a rip between the realms… Hold on to me.” Darrin grabs her robes and lowers her to the ground a ways. Nix begins moving her fingers slowly towards the large puddle of fungal gel.
“I would stay away from that jelly and that mold!” Nix stops in her tracks and tries to peer over her shoulder as Talison’s voice reverberates pleasantly along the corridor, breaking up the near silence. “I’m not sure what it is but it emanates an unholy nature…”
Nix lies suspended above the puddle, feet scraping the ground as Darrin pinches her robes in the middle and tries to lift her without getting close to the gel himself.
What do you do?