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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Plane Sailing" data-source="post: 1420620" data-attributes="member: 114">Magic Mushrooms?Trajan is protected once again by the grace of Asura from the spores that settle over the party. The others cough once or twice and then start looking around quite surprised. For them, the air has become full of voices.All except the sword saint hear words rising out of a general susurration -  “we are the many, we are the folk, we are the we. Are you part of the we or part of the other?”. Tania responds, thinking out loud “we are separate, but friendly”. She along with the others that have been affected by the spores become aware that almost all the tiny toadstools now have eyes, as to several of the man sized toadstools and one of the huge, tree sized toadstools. It is hard to tell who is having the weirdest time – them or Trajan who can’t understand why they are talking to thin air and their eyes are almost bugging out of their heads.There is a deep sense of sadness in the air.“The we are fewer now (fewer)” the voices continue. “The we are coming to a time of melding. Would you come with us and participate in the melding?(melding?)Three pairs of eyes turn to look at Garrick for an explanation. He shrugs his shoulders. “The underdark is a big place, I’ve never seen toadstool people like this before. My people generally move quickly and quietly, unseen through the darkness. Not tramping around like juggernauts and alarming all the locals”.“Ok”, says Taran, “Lets go along with them for the time being. We might be able to learn something useful from them”. He explains to Trajan what the heck is going on, and they set off amidst a strange entourage of shuffling and hopping toadstools of all sizes. Around them all except Trajan can hear a continual whispering of conversation echoing in the caverns.After an hours travel through an increasing blue phosphorescence, the party arrive in a small cleared cavern. In the centre of this is a particularly dumpy toadstool, which slowly shuffles round in place and two old yellow eyes open beneath its cap.“We welcome you to the we (welcome, welcome). You are not of us yet you are welcome to share with us (share with us, share, share, share with us).“Uh, just what would this sharing entail?” wonders Taran.“The we form a circle, and we share spores with one another” It nods its toadstool cap sagely. “It is a very intimate and rewarding process (intimate, rewarding, pleasurable)”.Thinking quickly, Taran replies “Ah, there is the problem. Much as we’d love to we can’t; we have no spores”.“Ah, how sad (saaaad)” the old toadstool creature says. “All we must end sometime, and it is sad to meet those in their ending. We must give you gifts for your passing (gifts, gifts for the passing)”.Taran’s ears prick up. “Gifts?”“You are heading in the direction of the cavern of fire (cavern of fire, fire, cavern of fire say the echoing whispers.)  You will need spores to protect you."The toadstool men hand out small puffballs; apparently one needs to crush the puffball and allow the spores to settle over you. There are puffballs of Endurance, of Strength and of Protection from Fire.After a few more pleasantries where neither side fully grasped what was going on, the company take their leave from the strange toadstool creatures and proceed further into the underdark.An hour or so later Taran receives a whispered message from his friend Dominic who must be scrying him again.“Hello Taran. I’ve got a couple of disturbing messages for you, and I don’t have any explanation of exactly what is going on yet. Your man Shinzin in Singh reports a flurry of activity and rumours of a dire emergency that threatens the entire nation. At the same time the your man in Morannon, Councillor Darryl reports that the Archmage of the Black Wizards of Morannon has appeared to the king of Morannon – an unheard of event”He draws a deep breath.“There are some powerful movers and shakers in this world who are getting ready to do some moving and shaking, Taran. Something big is coming up and I can’t divine what it is yet. I don’t like it. Keep your wits about you”.“Find out what you can, old friend” Taran replies. “report in twice a day if you can. I don’t want to lose touch”“I’m worried that we might be losing more than that if we’re not careful Taran. A lot more. I’ll call you tomorrow morning. Dominic out.”</blockquote>

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