The road to Mossholm was not an easy one. Particularly because there were no roads in the Mushfens -- a large tract of marshes south of Magnimar, fraught with dangerous beasts, giants, and an unforgiving landscape soaked in the saltwater of Conqueror's Bay. The area was so harsh that hundreds of attempts to settle there were met with disaster. The fens were full of ruins, reclaimed by the natural world or repurposed by the denizens of the swamps. It was a wonder that anyone would try to settle such an untamed wilderness when there were so many more welcoming lands in Golarion.

For some, the letter arrived by courier. Others simply found it amidst their belongings one morning. The author, Tizzy Halafrous, had given crude directions to Mossholm along with cryptic information about current troubles. She referred to the skull-moon as if it were a person, spoke of the Bleaching and the unraveling of the First World. One would have been forgiven for dismissing such a call -- but to others it struck a chord, or was at least curious enough to warrant investigating. One by one they came together on the journey. Some met in Magnimar, others crossed paths while navigating the fens. Soon there were six, their letters all the same.

It took two more days of searching to find the trail to Mossholm, a small pastoral village in the middle of nowhere. They arrived mid-morning, shrouded in chill and fog. There were no walls, no guards, and scarcely ten buildings between the shore and the tiny landmasses that dotted the murky waters. A few hands worked the fields of the tiny farmsteads, and other locals dotted the pathways, bridges, and yards.

It wasn't long before eyes turned towards the newcomers. A young dwarven girl, with brown hair in pigtails, ran from them -- shouting something in Dwarvish.

Sienna was singing, in Fairy.  It was easy to tell when the silver eyed Fairy was happy, as she usually sang when she was.   Many of the story/songs that she told didn't necessarily translate well into Common, so it was necessary for her to sing the original version from time to time to keep them fresh in her memory.

As typical of when she was traveling, she hovered/flew along at about shoulder level of the "big people".   The evening before, she'd finished restocking the last of her consumables; most notably, the four Elixir of Life* that she kept on loops on the outside of her satchel (in red colored vials).   The satchel was really a healer's kit, something of necessity for the healing fairy.  It was also fixed with her arcane mark: a keyhole (circle over triangle) design with three lines coming out of each side to represent wings.

Also when traveling with a group, she tended to stay in the middle.   Which was much easier for her to do than one might suspect.  Mostly because her of her twelve inch size.  As the "big people" tended to travel slower than she could fly; she'd had plenty of time to think about the letter while floating along.

She'd also offered use of Heroes Feast and Endure Elements to any of the other travelers that might find themselves in need of it.  She really didn't need the spells, but it was polite to offer anyways.   When they finally arrived, she allowed her gaze to pass along the landscape.  When the dwarven girl came up, she waited for someone else to engage in conversation with her.

*Elixir of Life is a liquid form of the Breath of Life spell, so it can be splashed on or drank for effect.

Jak walked along with a cheerful jaunt. True to his name, his stride was quite long, and he naturally moved at a pace double that of a normal human. But then, Jak was clearly not a normal human. His movement was inhumanly graceful, and as he walked through rough terrain, the trees and bushes and roots seemed to subtly ease out of his way, letting him walk at full speed through the densest of brushes. While perhaps not quite as speedy as the flying fae, he kept up ably enough.

Speaking of Sienna, he sang along when he knew the words, which was frequently enough. He spoke most of the languages that the Fae spoke, and while he wasn't a trained singer, his voice was low and pleasing enough. He even helped translate some of the songs, his understanding of both the worlds of the Fae and the material Plane helping ease otherwise untranslatable concepts.

Jak had politely declined Sienna's offer of food and magic. Accepting such gifts from one of the Fae was risky business, and while he had no reason to mistrust her, there was no reason to take foolish risks.

He wondered about the message. It was a slim lead, a mysterious letter. Still, he had gone to strange places and done dangerous things with less indication of his deities' wishes. That morning, when Jak had done his daily obedience, his contemplation on entropy and existence had seemed more apt than ever under the glare of the death moon and the dying of the First World. He only hoped that this was not truly the end, that Shyka and other still had plans. Hopefully this Tizzy would be helpful.

For now though, there was a dwarven lass to talk with.  "Hello Lass!" He calls out in the common tongue. "My name's Jak, and I'm afraid I don't speak your language. Do you speak mine?" He asks politely.

Chayamaya being a blob of slime, didn't so much walk as glide across the ground. Hearing this one might think she'd be slow but she was faster than a horse without pushing herself. She will happily accept a seat at the feasts and protection from elements though she simply sits in front of the food smelling it, without face or anything, she doesn't even touch the food, but one sort of expect a slime that's occasionally a girl. Still like her strange mental speech it was a bit unsettling.

Chayamaya had been intrigued when someone managed to slip a letter inside her without alerting her and managed to address it to her despite her not thinking she was all that famous.

There was a mental humming along to Sienna's singing that emanated from the slime though she'd halt it for anyone who seemed distressed by the melodic effort. The dwarf she paused not wanting to startle someone new with her strangeness before a good first impression could be made.