The haunting vibe and unsettling aura of the "forest" that surrounded Linoleum and his new friends was chilling and could easily drive lesser men mad it seemed. Thankfully the bard with the gong was no normal man; he was already mad. The fact that the floor looked like it was bleeding was a bit worrying Linoleum had to admit but the man was more curious than anything; if he stabbed the ground with something, would it actually bleed? Seeing as the trees where a dull dying gray color, the great mind of Linoleum in all its wisdom pondered if the trees were actually rocks that grew, and produced some sort of sappy ichor that smelled of something fierce.
Then everything got mental. Not like what the Bard went through on a biweekly basis, this was like a dream. Except it wasn't a dream. But still was. Does it count as a dream if the person in question is awake? Again, only more deep questions for the mind of Linoleum to ponder but that was for another time, namely a time when the damn ground wasn't trying to eat him. With a furious if not desperate attempt to save not himself but his gong, Linoleum began to whack at the soft ground with his mallet as he sunk into it. "Stay. Away. From. My. Gong!" Linolum shouted between every mighty hit against the ground, using said gong as a blunt object to try and beat back the unholy ground.
As he felt himself sink deeper and deeper into ground, the man let loose a flurry of curses before everything spun in his head again and the world returned to normal? Picking his beautiful face off the ground, Linoleum blinked as he picked himself up, cradling his instrument and wondered if he ate something weird that caused the illusions. Or if that rock tree sap was naturally trippy. But no matter, through the power of the gong and his force of will, it seemed like that the Wilderdeep decided that he was not a nutritious part of a healthy breakfast, maybe it ought to try some corn oats or something instead.
A shrill cry echoed its way through the forest, all around them both near and far at the same time. A shiver ran through Linoleum's back causing him to seek the wise words of holy gong. With a gentle tap, the instrument sung to its owner in a language only he could understand. "I see..." Linoleum quietly whispered under his breath to the gong, "Makes sense but I think that it would like the color cyan brick more though."
Linoleum watched as the little halfing poked at the bush at the behest of the Cleric. He too saw the eyes of the creature or at least felt it as he edged closer to the shrubbery in question, his gong raised and mallet clutched tightly in his hand, ready to strike at the first sign of danger.
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