Compared to the cold of that freak winter, the weather is pleasantly warm, with cool breezes occasionally stirring the hedges and sending the quiet flowers all a-titter -- accompanied by a distant tinkle of bells. The sounds of bells grow louder as the travelers progress, even though at times it has seemed as if they were merely traversing in circles.
"We'll need to get fairly close to reconnoiter, I fear," Griffin notes, especially after his spy-hopping attempts. "Otherwise the lay we see from above may not match the situation at all."
Achilles treads carefully, his eyes to the ground as he leads the way and checks for tripwires (vines?) and bear traps. He occasionally pauses to prod the grass with the tip of his umbrella to make sure there are no pit traps covered with dead foliage.
"It also means sneaking around is more or less out of the question," Harrison points out.
So far, there's no sign of ill intent for travelers through the garden. It seems that, up to this point, only the inhabitants of the garden are in immediate peril. (Although, the cheery state of the flowers would seem to belie that -- or perhaps they're just too simple-minded to realize their own peril, or it's only certain kinds of plants that are up for violent trimming.)
"I'd say sneaking was the best option, if we can do it," Griffin says. "At least until we can get a clear view of things."
In Rifle Brigade fashion, the card looks back over his shoulder once he's tested a patch of ground and hand-signals to the others to follow. The feel of the air changes as he brushes past a corner, however. He holds up a hand. "There's a clearing ahead," Achilles hisses, peering around the corner. The hedge maze gives way to a large garden like the one where they had tea with the Blue Rose. Flowers of myriad colors slumber in their lined beds, lulled to sleep, it seems, by the gentle tinkling of silver bells that sprout from tall leafy plants at intervals.
"That's interesting," Griffin notes, seeing the flowers sleeping. "Do you suppose the bells might have the same effect on us?"
In a hushed voice, Achilles tells Griffin and Harrison, "I think we're looking at the beginning of the Contrary Maries' territory. The bells are their sentries. If we get too close, the bells will be stirred by our motion and wake up the flowers nearby."
So far, nothing in the garden evidences any response to the explorers' arrival -- but then, it's not as if they've called any attention to themselves, either, to test that theory.
"What do you propose then? Taking them out at a distance? Do we have a sack we could stuff them in? Find another route?" Harrison asks.
"We should have a plan that involves triggering them too," the Gryphon suggests. "Set up an ambush or similar."
Nearby flowers in the hedges appear to be dozing. It's been a little while since the heroes had to seek directions with a flower at an intersection to get a leafy guide on where to go next.
The card considers. "Let's get a closer look," he suggests. "Maybe there's a route that will avoid most of them. How are you two at sneaking about? You haven't forgotten everything from the service, have you?"
"I'm so-so. I won't likely trip over my own feet, but I'm no shadow of silence," Harrison states.
"I can be quiet.. but would be depending on the bells and slumber quite a bit," Griffin offers.
Dropping to the ground and crawling forward, Achilles sneaks forward carefully, huddling against the minimal shadow the wall offers until he can peek around the sides to get a better view.
Nothing stirs from its slumber, but something about the way the silver bells are moving about suggests to Achilles that perhaps they are not "sleeping" as the flowers in their beds are. There is no face to make out, but something about the way the bells-on-stalks seem to "scan" about suggests that they might be, after all, guards of a sort.
Achilles freezes as somehow he feels the bells' awareness sweep past him, and presses flat against the wall. He frowns, then makes his way back to the others to report. "We'll need to wake up one of these sleepyheads, there are seven exits from the meadow ahead," he whispers. "I count at least six of those topiary animal shapes... I'll give you good odds they'd wake up if the bells did, and they wouldn't be on our side either."
"Hssss, too many exits," Griffin agrees. "Can't hope to sneak past every time if we choose the wrong one. Are the bells laid out in an even pattern?"
The card uses a piece of paper to illustrate just where the bells, exits, and topiary animals are. "I think our chances are best if we go around the edge, following the sweep of their patterns. Harrison, think you can sweet-talk one of these bed-heads near us into giving us some directions so we know where we have to go?"
Achilles's scouting mission reveals a few critical details. There are 13 "silver bell" plant-things positioned throughout the garden, evenly covering it such that getting between them would be a very tricky prospect for anyone unable to press himself flat to the ground the way Achilles can. The flower beds offer only the barest of cover; the idea of hiding out in the open would likely only be possible with some sort of camouflage, or a distraction.
"If they can move, I could just try to be a loud distraction and draw them off while you two move further," Harrison offers. "As for sweet talking, they're not exactly intelligent, so I'm not sure if it would help or not."
There are six large topiary bushes -- one at each corner, and one each midway on the east and west sides. Several ways through the hedges branch off in all directions, and none of them is clearly the way to proceed.
Achilles looks at the pretty roses nearby. "Still, can't hurt to ask nice... And I have a black thumb when it comes to plants," he mutters.
"We could send the doll to clip the bells," Griffin offers. "We could then observe the reaction to any alarm, or use the distraction to push past. If we wait and watch, we can see which entry any response comes through."
"I can try, I suppose, if you wish," Harrison tells Ace.
The reporter nods at Harrison. "Let's get that set up. Griffin, it might be a good idea to have the doll ready to go, just in case they wake up and catch us sneaking by with your little toy chest."
Taking Ace's diagram, Griffin goes to dial in the directions for the doll and prepare the automatic hedge clippers.
Harrison moves up to the closest rose as quietly as he can and thankful, for once, for being small. "Dear beautiful daughter of the shining sun and loving earth," the rabbit coos to the rose, "Would you perhaps know which exit leads to the gardeners? We would like to make our way quietly to them; it would be very ungentlemanly to disturb such beauty in rest by tramping through trying to find it."
The rose sleepily stirs to life, and, if it be possible, BLUSHES all the more red at the Hare's flattery. It flutters its leaves as if bashfully trying to hide the blush, then, when a breeze blows through, bobs and whispers back to the Hare.
At the blush, Achilles whispers teasing, "Better be careful or she'll keep you with her forever. Might not be all that bad, no shortage of carrots in the garden."
"You're such a card," Harrison mutters.
The reporter sweeps a bow. "Guilty as charged."
The Gryphon just rolls his eyes a bit. He's used to dried flowers for use in photography, after all.
The way privately conveyed to Harrison would be, of course, on the far opposite side of the garden. In whispers that somehow convey meaning without being actually words, however, the Rose conveys that there might be another way through the hedge to get closer to that point, without so much of a chance of disturbing the silver bells and risking being lullabied by them.
The little rose leans over and whispers to another rose. It blushes just as furiously red as the first. That one leans over and whispers to another rose, which in turn blushes, perhaps even more furiously. And so on it goes, forming a visibly blushing path.
"So ... there may be some sort of secret way to get across to that place over there," Harrison explains and points. "I just don't know how to ..." He pauses there and watches the blushing roses. "Okay, so I think I do see a way. We just have to tiptoe through the tulips. Er, roses," he adds while rubbing over his face.
Achilles turns to survey the roses, then blinks. "Well! I have never seen so many fair flowers swooning over one man before," he murmurs, grinning sidelong at Harrison. "Congratulations, sir."
Griffin resets the doll and prepares it for transport once more. "I do hope they don't give us away by giggling too loudly," he comments on the blushing blossoms.
"Good, then you can go first so you can see them up close," Harrison mutters to Ace. "Just don't scare them. I do not want to see anyone accused of deflowering this place, sir."
Achilles facepalms, then salutes Harrison's riposte. "Well played, sir." He moves ahead to scout out the path.
"Whatever you do, don't break the spell by smiling or trying to be charming, Ace. We don't want our guides to wilt," Griffin whispers in encouragement.
The bowler-hatted reporter gives Griffin a flat look at his taunt, then leads the way.
Tucking the hedge-clippers under the doll's right arm, Griffin takes her left hand and leads her along. It might almost be charming if not for the glass-eyed, frozen expression on the doll's face (and utter horror of the automated clippers).
The roundabout way would be a challenge, to say the very least, to navigate without the blushing-rose guides, as most of the helpful flowers seem to have been focused on the most direct route to get wherever there is to be going. This keeps the heroes well out of side of the magical garden most of their route, until at last they reach the far exit the shy little rose had first indicated. Of course, there's little sense in going through it unless the heroes had a desperate desire to go rummaging through the gardens for edibles, at the risk of being lullabied into a vegetable state themselves.
Achilles whispers back to Griffin, catching the half-bird looking toward the bells' garden wonderingly, "Watch it, if you set them off here, reinforcements will be on us in half the time."
"We could stop on the way back though, after dealing with those reinforcements, and collect a few," Griffin suggests, a sparkle in his eye.
"Indeed. If you set them off, we'll let whatever comes ring your bell, birdie," Harrison adds.
Achilles shakes his head. "When has ever a cat been so eager to be belled? Or half a cat in your case."
"I was only thinking of.. potential Christmas decorations," the Gryphon grumbles.
After a while, whatever tale was passed along by the original blushing rose seems to have lost its luster in the retelling, as the "blushing rose trail" fades away. However, the flowers have still been helpful at the intersections, to give a general idea of the next way to go. The gentle tinkling of silver bells fades away, to be replaced by a staccato "snap-snap-snappity-snap" percussion somewhere beyond the hedges.
"Cockle shells?" Harrison whispers to the others at the snapping sounds.
"Snap Dragons do you suppose?" Griffin whispers to others as the sounds grow louder, and gives a significant glance towards the more flammable member of the party.
Achilles's tummy rumbles. "Aren't cockles edible? Did you bring some butter? I could use a bite," he murmurs.
Snap! A pair of cockle-shell halves snap at the Card as he passes, but he spied it just in time. Not that he was really in any danger of any more harm than a mere pinch from such a tiny little thing, but it might have been unpleasant regardless.
Alas, it appears to be an animate pair of cockle shell halves, without an actual cockle inside, so Achilles's hope of lunch is sadly dashed. Further along, cockle shells -- not immediately animate -- line the path as the hedge appears to be giving way once more to a garden.
The card reports, "Wind's changing. There must be another open field ahead. Watch where you put your feeet, the cockles will be quick to let you know if you've overstepped." He goes to scout ahead.
"We must be getting close," Griffin notes. "Next would be the Maidens All In One Row."
Keeping his feet carefully clear of the cockle-shell rows, Achilles spies into the garden. This garden has a pleasant-looking little pool with floating lilies, and, as with the other garden, planted beds of flowers and bushes and even a few pleasant edibles here and there, but none of them thick or tall enough to impede one's movement -- just a simple little hop to clear one row or the next. What DOES pose a problem, however, is that the rows of cockle shells, unlike a real English garden, appear to be animate to some degree. A couple of halves of shells occasionally pop back together, out of where the halves had been used to line the rows, and they begin to bounce about in a strange mimicry of life, snapping randomly.
More fearsome, however, would be some abnormally large cockle-shell constructs that bound up and down the paths, snapping as they go. Now, THOSE look as if they'd do more than merely pinch, to be certain ... but with the sheer number of all the smaller shells, it's unclear whether it's even possible to sneak past them all, or to withstand so many pinches.
The card reporter jots down a quick sketch of the garden, then returns to the others, signalling them to meet him partway, so they can discuss. "There are too many cockle shells for us to possibly be able to sneak through," he reports. "And some big ones that look like they'd hurt if they caught us. We can either try to rush through, or find another route... Harrison, think you can make those roses blush again?"
"I wonder how the Gardeners navigate the area?" Griffin ponders. "A hidden path? You don't lay a minefield without making a map after all."
"I guess I could try?" Harrison offers.
Achilles nods to Harrison. He adds, "It looks like the minute we set foot in there, any little cockle shells're gonna burst out like screaming habba-jibbas." A dark look crosses Achilles face as he recalls the days of fighting in Ashanti.
"Or wading through a bog of angry terriers," Griffin offers.
The card clarifies. "Starving angry terriers."
Harrison moves up to to near the entrance so he could whisper to one of the nearby flowers. "Silken rose of the perfect petal, is there any way through this place without the risks of nibbled toes and pinched ears? Us rabbits are quite fond of our feet and ears," he explains to the flower. "Why, it would be like if someone came along and plucked your petals; it simply isn't right. Surely someone as beautiful and wise as you understands this terrible fear and would help if if there is a way..."
The Hare seems to have quite the way with the ladies when they're of the floral persuasion. There is more blushing, and the shy little flower beckons the Hare closer so that she might whisper into his ear with the next breeze and rustling of the bushes. She then whispers along the way, and soon there are other flowers blushing as well.
Achilles whispers to Griffin, "Our friend has missed his calling. I could see him hobnobbing about in all the best social clubs, making the lovely ladies blush and the gentlemen red in the face."
Alas, it does not appear to Harrison that there is a viable path that completely bypasses the garden ... but it seems that there is at least an alternative to going all the way across the cockle-shell-lined paths.
"Looks like there is a shorter path we can take. We still risk pinchings, pokings, and otherwise all too familiar gestures to get there, though. Just ... less of it," Harrison explains after slipping back to his companions.
Achilles nods. "Do you want to lead the way this time?" he asks, since the blushing roses haven't exactly lit up the obvious path.
"If I die, you do not have permission to turn me into a stew," Harrison mutters, then heads back to the entrance. The rabbit crouches down and eyes the way through. Though it's a bid demeaning, he actually runs through on all fours towards the new path exit. Well, hop like mad is a more fitting description...
Achilles looks disappointed. "But, but, it would be such a waste..." However, this last word is spoken on the run, as he follows suit. Rabbit of March, followed by Ace of Spades. He looks back at Griffin, waving them on to make it Three of a Kind.
Griffin takes a moment to program the doll to make its own way to the western gap, and then prepares to run alongside Ace.
Snap, snap, snappity-snap! Cockle shells leap from the hedge-rows and alongside the garden paths, joining into pairs and SNAPPING every card-corner, fluffy-bunny-tail, and feathered feature they can reach. Fortunately, the pain is inconsequential for the lot of them, as they dash through before the Big Cockle Shells can react.
Harrison swats a small shell still hanging from tail fluff off of him. "I may not like having a tail, but I like it even less something biting it!" he grumbles.
For the clockwork doll, however, it is not so simple. She is not made to make a mad dash. The best she can manage is a brisk walk -- but that's all the opening the cockle shells need, especially as they've already been agitated at the fleeing others. Snap, snap, SNAP, SNAP. The doll is soon covered in swarms of snapping cockle-shells. Her pretty little curls are clipped, frills are no longer frilly, and soon she can't even be made out under the sheer number of the murderous little shells.
"At least yours is small," Griffin notes as he shakes several shells from his longer leonine appendage.
Achilles acquires a funny look on his face as he hurriedly sticks his hand into his shirt and fishes around, then extricates several cockle shells. (he's a bigger target) He sighs in relief as he manages to extricate them... then looks up at the sounds of a cockle shell feeding frenzy. "Oh my stars and garters," he breathes.
The animated doll collapses partway across the garden. Springs and gears begin to shoot out from among the cockle-shell swarm. Better, perhaps, than the squishier bits that might have been inside one of the other potential victims, if they had likewise fallen.
"That was disturbing," Griffin notes, a bit sadly. "She could have been really useful."
There is little time to ponder this, however, as while the little cockle shells are easily enough shaken off and abandoned once free of the shell-lined paths, the BIG shells don't look to be so easily shaken off.
"I guess that is nature's way of saying you're too old to play with dolls old chap," Harrison remarks to Griffin.
"Good thing I took the trimmers away from her," Griffin notes. "Thought they'd slow her down, but didn't expect her to be lost like that.."
Snappity-clap! Snappity-clap! The larger cockle-shells appear to have caught on that there's something to pinch that has just zipped through the garden. The bounce and clatter, despite lacking any obvious appendages or means of locomotion.
"Look at it this way, maybe they have giant pearls in them," Harrison notes.
"A good thought indeed," Achilles agrees. He catches sight of the cockles moving and motions to the others. "We'd better get moving. Pop the nearest ones and go, I'll bring up the rear."
The card opens his umbrella up, preparing it as a shield should the 'giant' cockle shells leap at him.
"Think we can outrun them through the maze?" Griffin asks, raising his rifle. "I'd rather not shoot and give away our presence."
"Less thinking, more shooting, soldier!" snaps Achilles.
"How fast can a shell move?" Harrison points out and targets a nearby 'giant' shell. "We can't think like sane people in this place it seems. I'd rather get rid of them than have to face Maidens and Shells."
Achilles agrees, "If they stood on the other, their threat would be multiplied because we'd have the birth of many Venuses, all in a row."
"We're giving up all chance at catching the next group by surprise you know," Griffin says, then aims at the nearest giant cockle and fires.
The rifle shot cracks, echoing through the garden, and shatters the giant cockle shell pair into shards. One down!
"Wow, that's one way to cause shell-shock," Harrison quips. He now takes quick aim and fires!
"Just thirteen left," mutters the card. He points to the one on the left, "Pick that one off, Harrison!"
Like the other, the shell shatters into countless pieces.
When the dust clears, it's soon evident that Harrison outdid himself that time: He managed to shatter TWO shells that were perfectly lined up, with a single shot from the White Rabbit's cane-gun.
"Now that's a crackin' good shot!" cheers Ace.
"Remind me to never think of a rabbit as harmless again," Harrison says, wide-eyed.
Achilles waves to the others, "Get moving, I'll back you up!" He braces for the nearest cockle shell on the right, anticipating its rush.
"Shell of a shot, indeed," Griffin notes while reloading.
The first shell bounds the distance toward Achilles, but the Card is ready to counter-attack, interrupting it mid-clap....
"Hah! In your f-- hinge!" yelps Achilles as he sees the shell leaping straight for him. He lunges forward and jams the point of his umbrella through it, then slams it to the ground and twists to separate and splinter the halves.
Dropping the umbrella to grind one to dust gives the card a clear view of the other shell running in! He snaps his umbrella shut and slices through it in mid-leap.
Another shell rather unwisely bounces right up to Achilles, and gets the same harsh treatment, with the same devastating effect. It would appear that the shells are no match for the defenders ... but they do have the advantage of numbers, and appear quite un-swayed by the shattering of their allies.
The other large shells bounce and flip their way along. Their smaller compatriots seem to be trying to do likewise, but they just can't cover the same distance in such a short amount of time. Two cockle shells land in the central pool as they bounce. Rather than continuing their trip, they surface ... then purse their shell "lips" together and squirt sprays of water toward the fleeing heroes.
As Achilles turns to look back at the others, he's a bit surprised to find they're still there. "Move back a bit," he tells Griffin. "Take up a shooting stance behind me and Harrison. We can hold the line against these molluscean marauders."
Griffin backs up as requested, and says, "Should we see if they'll actually leave the garden to follow us?"
The way the shells bounce and charge, they do seem to have that intent. Little path-lining shells begin to emerge beyond their original paths. Right now, the few lead shells are only a minor nuisance, easily enough crushed underfoot, but eventually (say, after several minutes of migration) this could turn into a ground-swell. It's the big ones, however, that are the more immediate threat.
Backing up a bit so he's side by side with the agile rabbit, Achilles says to Harrison, "Just like the old days, eh? Hundreds and hundreds of natives swarming out of the trees and rushing our lines. Just be ready with a powder gr-- banana."
Anticipating the next shell incoming, the card reporter exclaims, "For the Queen!" and stabs through it. He flips his umbrella around after cracking it wide open and draws an en garde position, bringing himself edge-on.
Another shell leaps in, and is dispatched by Achilles. The shell fragments are really piling up here.
"Next one's yours," pants Achilles as he tries to bring himself around, but the shells are piling up with incredible speed.
The next shell bounds up, and quite nearly would have hit Achilles ... except that the Card's skillful use of his ability to seemingly nearly vanish when presenting his edge toward the enemy works in his favor. That was close!
"Hey, careful running around like that with sharp things!" complains Achilles. He throws a meaningful look at Harrison. "Don't you wish we had more time to react?"
The other shells bounce and bob behind their brethren, waiting their turn. It looks as if they've been bottle-necked ... but they're bouncing awfully high. Will this hold for long?
With Ace conveniently turned aside, Griffin kneels down to try and blast the nearest shell - with so many clustered together, it's a fairly target-rich patch of ground.
It's only a glancing shot, but somehow it seems to be enough to shatter the shell. Nonetheless, hopes for taking out several at once and following Harrison's example are dashed, at least for the moment.
Time to speed things up, I think," Harrison quips as his left hand goes into his pocket and winds the watch. And as things around him seem to slow (because he's going faster), he takes aim with his cane!
Another shell shatters to fragments! And more march up to replace it. These things are relentless!
Achilles says tensely to Griffin, "You might want to back up a bit. If that thing goes off, you might be outside the immediate shrapnel range. I'll take my chances."
tick-tick-tick-tick-tick Harrison's movements speed up, as the world around him seems to slow down by comparison.
The revolver-cane swings to the next target! Three shots left. Gotta make them count! The speeding rabbit takes aim and fires!
"Good shooting!" cheers Achilles. "If we can finish these off quickly, we can be off and back into the maze proper before any reinforcements get here."
Another shell shatters. Still more....
"Next!" says the gun-bun; and fires again!
With another high-speed attack, Harrison manages to repeat his feat from earlier, and shatters two shells for the price of one.
"And not once to waste time..." Harrison quips as he snaps the watch closed.
The card braces and prepares for the remaining shells. "Come on then and die like the rest of them!" he taunts. "Or you can run and bury yourselves so deep in the dirt it won't be worth the time to dig you out!"
Taking a step back, Griffin aims at the next nearest shell in front of Achilles, and fires.
Another shell shatters! So many shells bouncing around, yet ... it looks like there's only one of especially large size that's still intact.
Determined to the last, the remaining giant cockle shell leaps up over its shattered comrades, right up to where Achilles is ready and waiting.
With a crack, the last giant cockle shell is destroyed. The garden is still alive with the sounds of so many clickety-clacking little cockle shells, but they are nowhere near fast enough to catch up with anyone determined to outpace them.
"Time to get out of here," Harrison suggests.
"Right, unless you feel like being lovingly nibbled to death, we'd better get a move on," Achilles says, sweeping his umbrella closed. "Lead on, small fuzzy dervish of deadly doom!"
"Fleet feet, don't fail me now," Harrison quips and heads down the blushing path, preferring doting flowers to snapping shells.
The blushing roses and tulips and countless other flowers show or whisper the way, until at last the heroes come to another garden. This one, however, seems to leave the others to shame. Songbirds serenade the new arrivals, and the gentle breezes stir a bunch of plants that look -- and sound -- suspiciously like stringed instruments. (Could those be ... viola-ts?)
Judging by the shadows from the now-afternoon sun, up ahead, in between the spaced dividing hedges, are statues of beautiful women ... but then they shift, suggesting that they are no mere statues after all, despite being firmly rooted in place. No glimpse of them can be clearly had to determine whether, in fact, these maids live up to their billing as "pretty," but it shouldn't take but a few steps into the garden in order to find out.
The card sneaks forward once again to survey the scene, taking no chances. At least this far from the cockle shells, whatever alarum might have been previously raised, it doesn't seem as if these maidens are particularly alarmed.
Ace presses himself against the hedge 'wall' and peers around the corner carefully.
What Achilles sees is nothing short of dazzling beauty, even more stunning than the Rose Maidens he spied in the mirror version of the Princess Alice's rooms upstairs. Fortunately, he has steeled himself against this, and doesn't let himself be overly swayed by mere appearances. He resists a crazed urge to just step out and introduce himself to such a lovely young lady. At the very least, she is neither human, nor Card.
Further detracting from the charms of this unearthly damsel would be the curious bulges in the ground near her feet ... er, that is, roots. The ground is particularly uneven in the area around her base, and heavily overgrown with twisting vines.
The card sucks in a breath, but catches himself before he lets out a wolf-whistle. Instead, he slides back along the hedge to report to the others. "My word, we are looking at a garden of pulchritude not seen since the birth of Venus," he murmurs, clearly shaken. "Harrison, you had better be careful when you charm these roses, that they don't think you're referring to the hussies in the garden." Achilles frowns, recalling a detail. "There's something odd about them too... Or their feet, or what they'd call feet. There may be more to them than just pretty faces."
"Are they plants?" Griffin asks the Card.
"They're roses, they have... Roots, I think. It's hard to be sure. There were a lot of vines twisted around them," Achilles says, trying to recall. He sighs dreamily. "Ah, I haven't seen a girl that pretty since... since..."
"Probably ever, given your mug tends to frighten them off," Harrison finishes.
The reporter gives Harrison a sad look. "That's why I keep you around, like a lucky rabbit's foot. At least the pretty maidens will come to you."
"Where they all facing the same direction?" Griffin asks. "What other exits are there to the garden?"
"And you know we don't have time for ladies. We're on a dangerous quest and all that rot," Harrison points out and even pokes Ace in the gut. "So snap out of it! We have to figure out a way to get through."
"Or around," Griffin notes.
Achilles blinks at the rabbit-punch. "Ah-hem! Enough daydreaming about their fine legs... Feet... Roots! They're just roses, that's all! There must be some kind of magic they're using. Maybe the music." He draws out a piece of paper and sketches the layout. "Think you can get a word from your pretty friends which way we need to go? It looked to me like they did move, so I don't think we can count on them all looking the same direction. At least without a distraction."
"Hmmm, so they have the charm ability," the Gryphon mutters.
"You want me to fight flirting with flirting?" Harrison asks. "I don't think that is a good idea."
The reporter adds, his hard-bitten personality coming back to the fore. "I'll give you two-to-one odds on it being the far side exit again. Nah, we just need to ask the local roses for some directions."
In the distance, there is a sound of whistling, as if by two whistlers that are ever so slightly out of kilter with each other. Snip-snip-snip. Breezes stir up, and there's a faint sound of ... lots of tiny little screams? The sound fades away.
"That was disturbing," Harrison mutters.
Achilles says quietly, "We'd better hurry if we want to spare any more Plants from getting cut down into topiaries. There's a rose back down that way..." He points to the south.
March scoots off to one of the nearby roses. "Dear Lady, I see that there are other ladies ahead that would try to take your place as the most beautiful. Naturally, they have to do it with magic as anyone can clearly see that you're far prettier naturally. Would you perhaps know a way we can sneak by their false beauty and trapping magic? We would be forever grateful," the hares coos at the rose.
Oh, the Hare really knows the way to a Rose's ... er ... heart. The flower blushes and demurely hides its petals with a couple of posed leaves, then, with the aid of another timely breeze, whisper-whispers into Harrison's ear.
Achilles looks at Griffin. "Y'know... Maybe we should send him in there."
*** GM Note: Harrison, for the third time when attempting to charm a flower, has rolled a 13 on Persuasion. Achievement Unlocked: Flirtatious Florist.
"Uh.. I'd rather not risk it," the Griffin replies.
The card chuckles. "Spoilsport."
Harrison actually leans in and kisses the rose's petaled cheek. "Thank you, charming Lady," he says. "I would be honored by such a gift; it will help us through as well as strengthen our resolve to protect you from such false beauty and danger." He motions for the others to come over so he can explain it is the Maid's scent that is the key, and if we can block it, we can make it though safer, so long as we do not get in range of those grasping roots. Also that the lovely roses may donate a few petals we could hold crushed in handkerchiefs to mask the magical scent brain-numbing scent.
Even as the Hare speaks, a few blushing roses drop petals here and there. Individually, each only loses one, or maybe two, but collectively there are plenty to be gathered.
Griffin goes about gathering them up. "Good thing, since I only have one magic cake that.. dispels magic," he comments.
Achilles oh my's at Harrison's gesture. "We'll be sure to carry the ladies's favor in good faith," he assures the roses as he acquires his own handkerchief.
March collects a petal and bows to the roses at the same time. "We shall venture forth to protect your hedge from the evil sheers of the sisters," he promises.
"Should we sneak across, or try to run through?" asks Achilles of the others as he girds his nose against their evil perfume.
"Run, but keep as far to the left as possible I think," the Gryphon suggests.
"We should probably run through in a wide circle around the maids to avoid the roots," Harrison agrees.
Achilles nods. "All right, follow me." He returns to the edge of the garden, again edge-on to the nearest rose maiden.
It takes the Gryphon a moment to find his nostrils, before pressing the scented hanky over them.
March holds the kerchief over his twitching nose and follows after Ace, keeping distance to see what he's up to.
Achilles surveys the roses again from his hiding spot. He braces himself to make a run across. If they uproot themselves, at least he'll draw their attention first.
One by one, the three heroes make their way carefully up to the edge of the garden ... THEN MADLY DASH ACROSS! One by one, the pretty maids -- unearthly combinations of plant and humanoid-seeming appearance, as if they can't make up their mind which sort of creature they might be -- notice, and begin cooing and calling, beckoning them to come closer. However, once it dawns on them that their charms are being scorned, they turn to shouts and screams and very un-ladylike behavior. They may be pretty, but they are certainly not ladies.
The good news is, that as much distance as they're keeping, the vines that launch up from the ground haven't a hope of reaching them ... not, that is, until they reach the very end of their run, and they're forced to bend back toward the middle to reach the designated exit.
"All right, get ready, gentlemen. FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY!" bellows Achilles as he charges around the edge, skirting their grasping roots and making sure their attention are fixed firmly on him.
*** (Lynx: that should go before the mad dash!)
As the card dives for the exit, he sees roots ripping loose from the ground! He throws himself to slide right through the twisting vines, and barely eludes their clutches.
They all make it, though the last Pretty Maid seems downright DETERMINED to catch Griffin. Perhaps it's something about being a bird? Vine after vine shoots out to try to grab the poor Gryphon, but he just barely makes it -- and this without going airborne, as afraid as he is of being seen over the hedges.
"You would have made lousy fertilizer anyway!" the last "pretty maid" screeches at the Gryphon's parting.
"Hjckrrh" Griffin gasps as he barely makes it to safety. "Grabby women."
"That was a close one," says Achilles as he pants on the other side, putting the handkerchief aside for the moment. "Except for Harrison. He didn't turn so much as a single hair, did you?"
"You should be thankful any woman shows you attention while you're in that body," Harrison quips.
"I think I have a very noble bearing," Griffin counters, adjusting his coat. "Heraldic, in fact."
The hare also preens at Ace, notions, "Not one hair out of place on this hare. A harrowing few seconds to be sure, but I want not feeling harried."
noting rather....
Achilles laughs, getting to his feet again. "Try using it on the Contrary Maries then. I think our Flirtatious Florist will have better luck with them."
And so they avoid any more grasping vines, for another journey through the hedge maze. Harrison's charm holds out, as the helpful flowers point the way, and at last, they reach another garden -- this one distinctive for having a cozy little cottage at its center, and more topiary animals than in any of the other gardens. Some of the topiaries are still weeping sap from recent trimmings. The smell of fresh-cut greenery is in the air.
"It's a charnelhouse for plants, look, that one's still bleeding," gasps Achilles as he scouts ahead a bit, peering around the garden. "I don't see any enemies close up... At least unless the topiaries are going to come to life."
There are several bulges in the earth from where the soil has been recently turned up, and yet flowers are rising from the new beds, borne of some unnaturally effective fertilizer, it seems -- or someone has a real green thumb.
"Mary, mary, quite contrary," comes a sing-song from the other side of the cottage. "How does your garden grow?" "With snips! And snails! And puppy-dog tails! And little boys all in a row!"
"Perhaps the sisters have gone inside to.. clean their tools?" Griffin suggests. "We could pose as door-to-door clipper salesmen," he offers with a grin. "We do have the latest in clipper technology after all.."
The reporter motions for Harrison and Griffin to come up so they can see. "I don't like the sound of that... If you want to wake up that rose over there, maybe they can give us a better idea what we're going to find in there?"
There's a shunt of a shovel being thrust into earth. Someone's digging. There's also a sound of a sniffling and choked sob.
"That does not sound like the sob of a snip, snail or puppy dog tail," Griffin notes.
"Now, hush, hush, my little seedling," comes a voice. "Yes," comes another. "You've spent so long in the dirt and filth of Londontown. Now it's your time to sprout up and become the beautiful flower you were always meant to be!"
"I'm not digging in that bed, not after that song," Harrison mutters. "Villany is afoot, and we must stop it, the ladies of the hedge are depending on us! Can we let down the lady in blue? I think not."
"Could be..." The reporter's mouth falls open. Oh dear. Oh, very very dear.
"Rush them?" Griffin asks. "I go over the top with the clippers, and you two come up along the sides?"
"Whatever we do, I don't think we have much time. We have to stop them," Harrison notes, checks his cane ammo, then nods. "So, shall we?"
Achilles mutters, "I suppose trying to talk them out of their wickedness is out of the question at this rate. If you want to rush them, give us some time to sneak up in place."
The reporter ties his handkerchief into a makeshift facemask, pressing the rose petals against his nose firmly. He's going to need both hands free for this.
Griffin nods, and stretches his wings a bit while clutching his rifle.
March also ties the kerchief around his longer face. Why, he looks just like a train robber! Pity there are no trains nearby. "Right side," the hare states, then moves.
The card sneaks carefully into the garden, pressing himself up against the edge of the cottage and looking around the corner.
Achilles finds himself right next to a bleeding topiary bush that has been cut into a rabbit-like shape (apparently a very POPULAR animal in these parts). As he peers past it, careful not to get anything sticky on himself, he can see the edge of a very round back-side just around the far corner of the cottage. It looks like a very rotund fat man in a dress, for all he can tell, wearing a gardening apron, thick boots, and heavy gloves, while hefting a shovel.
The card makes a hand-sign for enemy sighted and then points around the corner at the gardener assistant he's found.
The Gryphon sneaks up towards the cottage as well, but keeps away from the wall, intending to fly up and over when the time is right.
At the entrance to the cottage, they can peer into the windows and see the frilly insides. It's a very humble sort of place, neat and tidy and well-crafted, but it looks as if it has been built for the frame of someone far thinner than one of these creatures -- and, at that, it seems to be built for ONE.
"Hush, little seedling, hush," comes a shushing voice that might have been soothing except for its strange deepness. "You would have never made it as a human being. It's better this way." "And, besides, no one will miss you. You know that much."
"No one will miss us, will they, Mary?" says one, with a quavering voice. "Oh, hush, Mary. We're back in Wonderland now. Everything's going to be just all right."
Achilles signals to Griffin, wait and then catches Harrison's eye and draws a finger across his throat and points at the Tweedle ahead.
"But I heard gunshots, Mary!" one wails. "Oh, contrariwise, Mary. It was thunder from the mountains. The flowers wouldn't let any GUNS in here."
Harrison points at himself, then towards the Tweedle questioningly.
Achilles nods.
One of the Tweedle-Mary twins looks around, then sniffs at the air. Harrison is stock-still, pressed against the wall. Not a sound is made.
The Tweedle-Mary makes an animal-like grunt, then shuffles around and scratches its backside, returning to the digging.
Not wanting to risk whomever might be about to be buried, Harrison decides to take a shot at the Tweedle after moving a short distance to better see the target without givng too much of himself a way. Just one step ... and then fire.
*** GM Note: Harrison just scored a shot with 31 damage. Tweedle Mary & Mary have a total of 5 Bennies.
One moment, Harrison gets a look at this creature. It's a gross caricature of Rosemary. Or was it Maryrose? It's as if her features had been somehow peeled off and stretched over some hideous creature shaped something like an egg. Despite the lack of an obvious neck, Harrison's shot finds what passes for the head. One moment, he's sighting up ... the next, there's a blossom of color.
Two bodies fall to the ground, one that Harrison can see -- the other that he cannot. Thump-thump.
There's a quavering whimper, and then a little boy's scream.
"That was, wha?" Harrison says, confused. "Two thumps?" He waves for the others to move up.
A dark mist begins to coalesce around the garden, rising up from the fresh graves and spreading outward, clinging to the ground.
Achilles looks perplexed at the second thump. He looks up at Griffin, then nods to him. Move up, he hand-signals before going around the side of the cottage to investigate.
With the shot fired, Griffin flies up to the top of the cottage to try for a sniper position.
From his vantage-point, Griffin can see that the other Tweedle-Mary was holding the little boy, with a sharp spade in one hand, but now she has slumped up against the cottage wall. Her face -- well, there must be a face in there, but it's a mess, and best not to look at too closely.
The hare eyes the rising dark mist with a worried expression. "That cannot be good," he frets.
The bright sunny day begins to darken, as the sun begins to fade into a moon. The little boy struggles to pull himself from under the weight of the collapsed monster, even as dark smoke seems to pour from its body.
Seeing that the target is down, Griffin flies down to help free the child. "Are you injured?" he squawks at the boy.
The boy looks up at the Gryphon, dazed. "Are you real?" he asks in a quiet voice, "or am I still dreaming?"
He looks like a street urchin -- the sort of boy that, yes, is unlikely to be noticed in Londontown these days, if he goes missing.
"Sure, bad dream," the Gryphon says in clipped tones, and tries to carry the boy away from the smoking body.
The boy seems real enough. Something about the surroundings seem indistinct and contradictory. The Gryphon can still feel the summer breeze blowing through his feathers ... but he also has the sensation of his HANDS holding up a dirty little ragamuffin boy.
"It's reverting!" Griffin calls. "Back to London!" He looks at the boy, and says, "You're going to wake up now. There might be ugly stuff around you. Run away, okay?"
"My God," exclaims Achilles as he takes in the scene. "You managed to shoot both of them with one bullet. You ought to get a medal for this, Harrison."
"We have to leave," Griffin calls. "This is a half-way place, like the inn! If we stay we'll be back in London.. I can feel my human hands."
"I don't know, it doesn't feel very, well, honorable", Harrison says, "But a child's life was at stake." The comment about it reverting gets the hare to look around rapidly. "We're going home? Isn't that what we want?"
"Going home to what? Prison? Being hunted down by Alice again? Hjckrrh!" the Gryphon says, putting the boy down and running back they way they came. "I'm not leaving Integra behind!"
The card nods. "Let's go and let Lady Vielchenblau know the good news." He reminds Harrison, "Well, at the end yes... After we stop Queen Alice from repeating this kind of scene a hundred times more." He gestures across at the boy. "Somehow she's managed to give the Mary twins the power to summon urchins from the streets of London and kill them, all so she can raise a horticultural horde."
"However she's doing that... We have to stop her first, so we'll have a home we can safely return to," Achilles says tightly. He turns and makes his way back toward the entrance.
For a moment, Harrison can feel a cold night breeze tousling his hair. No bunny ears, no bunny paws, no fluffy little cottonball tail sticking out the back, and perhaps more importantly, he can see the world from the height of a full-grown man, rather than a shorter boy-sized storybook bunny. At the very least, it seems that once he gets back to London, it won't mean that he's stuck as a talking animal, and destined to be locked up in a zoo or a freakshow.
"But, but, the chance to not have tails and big ears!" Harrison laments and waves his arms around. The hare is very torn, then suighs and heads after Ace. "If I get stuck like this I'm making you into a doormat," he grumbles.
Achilles looks back over his shoulder. "Placemat," he bargains. "Then at least I can eat the leftovers."
From that same vantage-point, however, Harrison can see something else. This humble gardening shack has a row of fresh graves. A few belongings are stacked nearby, and he can tell at a moment that those were probably the only possessions of whoever has been buried here. Also lying on the ground, sprawled sadly, is the body of Rosemary, her once-beauty marred by the manner of her death, but also by whatever digging about in dirt and filth she's been doing in the meantime. Or perhaps it's Maryrose, if they were supposed to be twins. However, there's only one body. Not two.
The further he draws away from the cottage, however, the more solid Wonderland seems, and the more distant and dreamlike the glimpse of a lonely place outside London becomes.
"Thank you, Mister Angel!" the boy cries out from the Other Side. "I'll never forget you! Not ever!"
Once out of the garden, Griffin takes out the group portrait to see what's happened to it.
The tweedle twins have vanished from the group portrait. In its place is one little girl -- a somewhat familiar face, if the memories are clouded by time. Shouldn't there be two of her? But there is only one. Maybe ... maybe there only ever was one, after all.
Achilles sucks in his breath, looking at the portrait. "... What has Alice done to all of our memories?"
"So, Alice's power in the real world could even create the impression of twins?" Griffin asks in wonder. Then he tries to remember if he ever actually saw them both together..
"What if none of us are actually real?" Harrison points out. "Maybe I am just a rabbit."
Griffin recalls seeing one twin or the other, but he has no clear memory of seeing them both at once. Surely he remembered it at some point, but even that becomes less clear.
In any case, the way back out of the hedge maze seems surprisingly easier than the way in. In short order, the heroes find their way back to the court of the flowers, and Lady Veilchenblau is there to greet them, with Integra (and the little rocking-nightmare) at her side.
The card shakes his head. "Remember Descartes, and hang onto that, Harrison. I think, therefore I am. I for one want to know the truth... And to do that, we have to break Alice's enchantment over us."
"Besides, whatever she did, I don't think she could stray too far from the source material. Bend the truth, shade it, sure... But she couldn't whip up a lie made of whole fabric," Ace asserts. He settles in at the table. "Ah! So good to be back on safe ground."
"We lost the doll, Integra," Griffin informs his niece apologetically. "Did you have fun while waiting?"
"You have delivered us from the murderous reign of the Contrary Maries," Lady Veilchenblau intones. "As a humble token of our appreciation, we would like to present you with these." Vines uncurl to convey over to each hero some little pins made of fragments of silver and shell. "These show you as friends of the Living Flowers. You may pass through our domain without being lost, for all who are loyal to their fellows here shall gladly show you the way. You may find it helpful in your dealings with Flower-kind elsewhere as well."
Integra looks sad at news of the loss of the life-sized walking doll, but only momentarily. She hugs her uncle. "I'm just glad to see you back! I was so worried!"
Several Flowers titter among themselves, stealing glances at the dashing Hare, and then blushing if ever he happens to glance in their general direction. It seems that word has gotten around.
"Thank you, My Lady," Griffin says with a bow.
"Harrison was first rate," Achilles says proudly, happy to toast his bunny friend's accomplishments and not incidentally expose him to more attention from the flowers. "He plugged the Contrary Maries right through the head, both of them! It was an incredible shot."
There is a collective gasp among the Flowers. Perhaps they are a little too delicate to fully appreciate such detailed accounts of the heroes' exploits.
Griffin winces a bit at Ace describing such things in front of Integra.
"The act was done out of chivalry and honor, not for a reward, Milady," Harrison tells the blue woman as he accepts the small pin with both a smile and a bow. "But we are honored that you give us this gift, and your protection. I will forever remember our time amongst the hedges and its beautiful citizens. Mayhaps we will visit again one day."
The reporter admires the pin before attaching it, where it somehow flattens out and becomes a splash of color on his front. I'm starting to get used to being two dimensional, he muses. Well, there are only ever two sides to any issue anyway, so who needs three?
"As another token of our gratitude," Lady Veilchenblau continues, "I offer a relic that has fallen into our fronds." Several Flowers pass an item along, one after the other, that is bundled in several large shed leaves. They unwrap it, to reveal a long and thin blade that is decorated with enamel-inlaid roses and stylized leaves on the cross-guard and pommel, with a design that makes it look as if vines encircle the grip as well. "It is the Sword of Thorns," she continues. "Perhaps it may be of use to you, though if it is wielded, it must be done so with care."
"You'll look perfectly dashing with that," Ace tells Harrison. He of course has his trusty umbrella.
"Is there some special attribute it possesses when wielded?" Griffin asks.
Harrison extends his hand to carefully accept the sword. "What is its gift, and its risk, when yused, Milady?" the hare asks.
"I must confess, it is a jealous weapon," Lady Veilchenblau explains, as she hands it over. "It does not play well with other relics, save perhaps if they share its floral design, and might be considered accessories to its greatness. It is a blade, much like any other, but it is like a rose with thorns. It may prick those who come too close to you while you wield it -- whether friend or foe."
Harrison's ear twitches. "I see," he says as he looks over the weapon with a very appraising eye. Pawnshop habits die hard...
GM Note: Harrison has heard of this relic! Sword of Thorns. Str+d6 (+d4 thorn) damage. +1 Parry even when the sword is in its scabbard. Wt 4 lb. Anyone who touches you or strikes you while sword is drawn is hit for d4 thorn damage (damage can Ace).
"Wait, I remember this ... " the hare mutters. "Yes, I think I will keep it. It may protect me if I get cornered." He bows again to the rose. "Thank you once more, angelic lady of the Spring wonder."
Lady Veilchenblau smiles demurely, with an expression that seems to say, "Flattery will get you everywhere!" But instead, she just politely moves along with, "As you may well know, the path-ways of the garden can take you all the way to the Hill of Surveying. From there, you might be able to see what place you seek to reach."
"Then that is where we should head next, barring my companions raising any objections," Harrison says, then looks to the others.
"The Hill of Surveying sounds like a capital idea," enthuses Achilles. "While I'd like to burst in and save the King, if he is indeed ensconced in the Looking-Glass House, I think realistically we're going to need to gather some forces to do it. Maybe we can see where White resistance is holding out from up there."
"Getting the lay of the land is a good idea," Griffin agrees. "And it's following Alice's path. And who could turn down a nice stroll through a garden hedge?"
The reporter gives Harrison and Griffin a sidelong look. "I'd suggest you get your running shoes ready though. It's bound to turn into a race at some point!"
"I suppose, then, we shall hedge our bets and go that way. My friends do not object," March quips, "It will be a shame to leave this land of beauty and its citizens, but we must continue on, lest a new evil come to this place. No place will be truly safe until the question of Alice is resolved." Ace is then given a rather strange look. "A race? That is absurd old friend. Unless dear Griffin becomes a tortoise, there seems little need for a hare to race! In any event, tally ho!"