_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

Garret, capable of putting 2 and 2 together when needed, does make the connections quickly enough about the alternative forms of the chimera and the totem spirit, so he gives them a wave as he and Aubrey arrive there.

"We did indeed do that to their ****!" he confirms to Rhox, "Though she," motioning to Aubrey, "did the hard work of dealing with the werewolf-creature. I just set a barely-moving target on fire," he explains with an amused look.

"As for what it was, some corrupt mess of spirit and chimera. A hive of gross shadows. Like someone used the most corrupt parts of the entropic leg of the spiritual triad to melt away the boundaries between them. There's likely more to it, but that was what I gathered at a quick glance," he mentions, before looking over to NineTails.

When she mentions that Aubrey will protect him, Garret actually claps, hopping once on the balls of his feet. "Ooh really, my own Troll bodyguard? I thought only the Sidhe got those," he says, far too excitedly despite the changeling's reaction to it.

"Don't worry, it'll be fun. There was definitely something interesting about that Cafe. A lot going on here. I can see why Will'o'wisp brought me there," he mentions. Granted the cafe itself was only a minimal part of the adventure itself, but still, it's all connected and he knows it.

_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

Garret glances back for a brief moment to be sure his Troll companion hasn't fallen to the werewolf, then to the heart once more, frowning deeply as it seems to be just barely hanging on.

"Gah! Just die already! Stupid tainted goopy webby sticky piece of-" and rather than actually finish the sentence, he brings his ivory sword up and then makes an attempt to just slice right through any of the remaining 'arteries' so he can sever it from the world it's trying to infect.

Attack (Dex 3 + Melee 1): Your rolls are  10  8  10  1. You had 2 successes
Damage (Aggravated, Str + 2 + 1): Your rolls are  3  5  8  7  3  7. You had 3 successes
(3 aggravated damage)

He's clearly not a seasoned warrior, but he was indeed telling the truth; he does know how to put the pointy end where it belongs.

_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

As he finishes the song, the guitar itself continues to gently play the chorus rhythm for a little while even as he straps it to his back so he can remove his sword again. The magic remains, of course, keeping them as safe as a little bubble of spiritual purity really can.

Hearing the stairs creaking, he has to state the obvious, "Careful, those stairs sound loose. They'll probably-"

Crash

"break..." as he looks down the newfound hole. She seems okay, so he won't call too much further attention to it and risk wounding her pride more than her flesh.

Dex 3 + Athletics 3: Your rolls are  8  4  4  3  4  3
You had 1 successes

He tries to slip down the hole himself and make it look easy, an expression on his face like he's making the most graceful landing, comparatively, but he doesn't quite stick the landing as he falls, almost stumbling over entirely. He doesn't hurt himself, at least. And it means the place is lit up.

_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

"Good enough for me," the mage says as the spirit assures him they'd know it. It either means it will be incredibly visible obvious, or incredibly spiritually obvious, and he's pretty confident he can handle either.

Stepping close to Aubrey as she starts to test the shadowy, disgusting waters, he puts his blade down to his side but pointed forward slightly so it can drag against the floor and help keep the grossness at least a little at bay.

Willpower: Your rolls are  2  4  9  2  2  2  5  10
You had 2 successes

"Don't have to tell me twice," he says, following along. His own resonance clashes with the impure ones in the shade, and for now he seems to be largely untouched because of it. Largely. "When I get back home I am going to take the longest bath known to the history of man. Empires will rise and fall in the process of my cleansing."

Crunch. Another spider got in the way of his sword.

_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

Arete (Spirit 3 to heal + Prime 3 to purify taint, WP): Your rolls are  6  8  2  8  7
You had 4 successes (+1 for WP = 5)

Garret doesn't even bat an eye at being presented a spirit like she's a broken toy that needs to be sewn up. That's really for her to be offended about or not, and he has more important things to do.

"Alright," he snaps his charm back onto his bracelet, and grabs another one from it with a slightly different symbol. Rather than pressing that to the spirit, though, he clenches it into his own hand, pushing his Quintessence through it.

Speaking softly in the spirit tongue, to Aubrey it's likely hard to make out like before, but NineTails herself can of course understand it. It's a strange mixture of a request and a demand, an implication in tone that a spirit would understand by her nature but that those of flesh have no real analogue of. In effect, he's drawing her essential nature back and to the front, burning away any lingering taint and building her back up into her whole self with a reference to that platonic form. That totemic form, perhaps amusingly.

He holds his hand out, and white smoke starts to float out from the charm like before, but instead of violently compounding into flame, it gently wafts out and over the spirit, infusing her ephemera and knitting her Essence back together.

5 sux means ten levels of Essence restored. And the prime is basically just in case any wyrm-taint equivalent worked its way in there

_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

Garret looks vaguely amused with her tacit agreement about who goes first. That certainly makes it easier.

Gripping his own blade, for all the unlikelihood that he'll fall back on that before anything else, he steps up near the church with the changeling. Eying the wards for a moment, he starts to go through some mental considerations as to the best way to deal with it... only to end up on his back leg a moment as Aubrey takes the direct route and a shower of magical sparks fill the air.

Sometimes brute force is the answer though, because the ward gives way before the combined magic of the blade and his enchantment, although the reward of a musty breeze isn't exactly the best one for the effort.

Awareness: Your rolls are  6  4  3  9  7  10  6  1  8  5
You had 5 successes

He steps in after her, bright purple eyes a contrast to the shadow-filled interior as he starts to scan over the area, getting a feel for whatever it is they're really dealing with. His totem's guidance touches upon him from across the gauntlet, and he's quickly frowning from both the mundane and spiritual nature of the place.

"Oh I don't like this," he says quietly. "It's like the spirit is bleeding into the chimerical here. But unlike my own experience doing exactly that, it's like one bled into the other, their spirits clashing rather than building upon one another. Everything's... awful. Tainted spiritual resonance. And..." a glance to the spiders. "Corrupted pattern spiders. Of course."

Instincts clash as part of him wants to try just crushing one of the things but the rest of him knows better.

Arete (Spirit 4 + Correspondence 4 + WP): Your rolls are  3  3  7  5  7
You had 2 successes (+1 = 3)

"First thing's first. I wouldn't want your Totem to be stuck in anything like this for long. Hold still again," he says. He places a hand on Aubrey's shoulder, angling his blade downward and carving a scorched symbol into the ground.

He whispers something in a spiritual tongue, close to but distinct from Garou speech (Iwapo), a combined invitation to the totem spirit to rejoin with the one it's bound to and a lifeline of spiritual rope to hopefully let her pull herself free of whatever might have her. A voluntary but forceful summons. As he finishes, he slices through the circle and magic fills the air, the Dreaming and Umbra rippling around them.

_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

Honestly, the trip through the booth is a bit more jarring than ending up in the cafe to begin with, simply because he's used to spending so much time in the Umbra or Dreaming. He's not stupid, of course, lest he flirt with Bedlam/Quiet or let himself transform into a spirit, so he does keep himself anchored, but it's like getting your sea legs back. Takes a moment.

"I can't say I like what you've done with the place," he mentions upon noticing first the emptiness and then, well, the literal bleeding walls. Not really his vibe.

More jarring, of course, is the suddenly approaching chimera; apparently he has at least some amount of combat instinct because he does draw his (solely) chimerical blade without much of a second thought. Thankfully nobody too normal is around to wonder about that gesture.

But, also thankfully, it's soon skidding to a stop, and Garret lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I do, yes!" a name, "Garret. I'm here to help, apparently!" he seems to know as much about the situation as the troll knows about him. "What am I helping with? Shadow something is all I know so far," he brings the chimera up to date on his own end.

_{Fae Blood 3  ||  Changeling's Eyes, Spiritually Noticeable}

---

Perception 3 + Awareness 4 + Totem 3:
Your rolls are  4  6  7  3  10  5  10  9  6  8
You had 7 successes

Shadow... thing. For some reason that makes a brief chill run down his back, and he's not sure why. Worst form of deja vu? Why is it always a shadow thing?

"I haven't heard of Hoogport. That some town? Do you have anything from there? Or..." the mage takes a brief look around, something in the back of his head tingling as he looks to the portal booth.

"Are we allowed to use that? I still don't actually know where we are now." There are probably rules posted somewhere, right? This isn't like more esoteric realms, he imagines there must be.

Distracted from that by the mention of his weapon, though, he reaches back and pulls it out of its sheath with a motion that's both practiced and yet makes him look like he's surprised to have a weapon in his hand simultaneously.

"Oh, you know, I can put the pointy end where it needs to go," he says, clearing his throat, "Usually." He's quick to put it back for now; you're not supposed to wave those around in cafes either, he assumes.