Apparently, Morrigan was in rather hot demand by the members of the Mage’s Guild - not long after taking care of the job in Sol City with Cirice Lunestre, they were shipped off to the bleak, ash-covered city of the north to take care of yet another problem. In fact, they’d been specially chosen for this particular mission! Morrigan wasn’t sure what the hell the mages thought the charlatan would be able to do to get rid of some talking door, or why they’d even want to get rid of such a thing in the first place, but whatever. They supposed they didn’t care as long as it granted them power and influence and furthered their reputation within the guild.

Besides, how hard could it be to deal with a talking door? It couldn’t even move, for Ginma’s sake! Certainly, this didn’t need to be a two-person job, either! And yet, as the guild had set Morrigan forth, they’d been informed that another member would be tagging along with them. Someone Morrigan hadn’t met yet. The charlatan’s protests were only met with the insistence that missions were always carried out with at least two people for everyone’s safety. Which, hello, door. If Morrigan couldn’t handle this much then they truly shouldn’t have even bothered scamming their way into the guild in the first place.

Whatever. If the guild wanted Morrigan to sing along and play nice and hold hands with someone then they would play nice, for now… so long as it was anyone but Cirice Lunestre again. Even though they’d somewhat parted on neutral terms after their last mission together, Morrigan would be just fine if they never had to do work with that demoness again.

The Dancer’s Den was already decently full when Morrigan entered with all the bravado and confidence of someone who expected a big reception - most folks barely gave them a sideways glance before returning to their business. Morrigan huffed, making their way to the bar before ordering a Blood and Sand. If they were going to do this, they may as well enjoy themselves before their mysterious partner arrived.

---

Quest Name: Talk to the Door
Chapter: One
Description: We need you to go talk to this door, it turns out he is bored and lonely and just wants some company. So our members are being tasked with going and just talking to it, telling it about yourself, your life and the world outside the dancers den. You can share with it whatever you want, just keep it company.
Requirements:
- Requires at least two people (you and one other, the other does not need to be interested in the guild)
- You must make at least 6 post with each post being 150 words to complete the mission.
- You must have a conversation with the door and keep him company
- Once you complete this mission you have finished this quest line

With how horrendously the last person from the Mage's Guild he'd had to work with had treated him, Hylltywyll wished he could just do these dumb missions alone. At least this time it wouldn't be that blind-ass bitch with the smelly veil on her dumb, snobby face. He hoped she got eaten by a bear or something in the woods after she left.

And why did the Guild have to be so secretive? They didn't tell Hylltywyll anything about their partner before he left. He'd just had to resort to asking everyone in the Dancer's Den if they were supposed to be his partner. Honestly, it was pretty fun though. With every patron that walked through the door, Hylltywyll spied on them from the shadows and forged a quick mental link with them and asked them, his voice directly inside their mind- "You here to talk to the door?".

Some of the reactions were hilarious! The biggest, burliest man there had jumped in fear and let out a shrill scream when he'd been asked. One shady looking guy had glanced around with wide eyes and then walked right back out the door. Who knew how many important meetings the Fairy had ruined? He didn't care. It was so fun to see how each person freaked out when they heard his little voice in their head. He almost forgot why he was even doing this in the first place, he was enjoying it so much.

And now a new victim walked in all confidently. Hylltywyll waited for the Fellblood to take a seat at the bar and get a drink in their hand before connecting with their mind. As they were about to put the drink to their lips, that was the perfect time to ask.

"You here to talk to the door?"

---

One With the Shadows
Mind Parasite

Morrigan was just about to take the first sip of their cocktail, the drink about halfway to their lips, when the sudden voice rang through the back of their mind like a gong, startling the charlatan badly enough that they flinched, spilling their drink all over their face and nearly slipping out of their chair.

“BWUH?”

Their eyes were wild as they glanced around for the source of the sound, face and front entirely drenched like a bedraggled kitten as they did - but they saw no one that looked like they were the dastardly, inconsiderate criminal who had forced Morrigan to spill their drink.

‘Little bastard is hiding… lucky they are, or I’d wring their neck. Or douse them in glitter. That drink wasn’t cheap!’ Morrigan thought to themselves as they chewed on a stray bit of ice that had still been left at the bottom of their glass, completely unaware of the mental link that had just been formed between them and the unseen nuisance. If it was a prank, it really wasn’t a funny one!

… Okay, well, admittedly it was kind of funny, but any humor Morrigan might have derived from the situation was lost the moment they were made the unsuspecting victim. And what were they doing, going on and talking about some kind of door…?

‘Wait. That’s the idiot I’m here to meet.’

Morrigan set their drink down on the counter, tapping the table twice to get the barkeep’s attention. “One more to go, please, my lady.” They said with a wink. “Er, and a towel, if you have one.”

The barkeep merely blinked at Morrigan as if she was debating whether the charlatan was certifiably insane before shrugging and going off to fulfill Morrigan’s order. A few moments later they had a drink in their hands, and a towel to clean their face off, and Morrigan was ready for business.

‘Alright, where’s this little shit now?’

Hylltywyll was just cackling from his hiding spot in the shadowy depths of the top shelf behind the bar, hidden by his magic as well as some glass bottles of the place's finest whiskey. It was a good thing the magic also suppressed any sound he made, or his cackling might have gotten the attention of everyone in the Dancer's Den with how loud he was.

That was a great reaction! Probably the best one yet! Waiting until they were just about to take a drink really was the best idea they'd had this whole time and it was totally worth it. Much better than asking them as soon as they walked in the door. They'd have to do that from now on!

Wait. Hylltywyll heard some of the thoughts coming from their latest victim. Wait! That was right, they were here to do something! This guy actually was the one he was supposed to be working with? The one that would help him talk to the dumb door? This idiot? And a rude idiot, at that, calling Hylltywyll an idiot.

Hylltywyll grumbled silently from his shelf and then smiled. Well fine, he'd just have to work with them. But, he was going to make sure this Fellblood regretted insulting their partner the entire time.

One by one, the bottles on the shelf appeared to just suddenly vanish as the Fairy slipped them into his shadow as he scurried across the shelf. A little ammo for later, or maybe some bribes. Their new partner looked like they'd enjoyed their drink and even ordered another one. Well, he'd be happy to provide. Threaten to douse him in glitter, huh?

Hylltywyll picked one of the especially fancy drinks up with him, a lovely Champaign with a shimmering pearlescent glitter swirling around within the bottle. He sat down behind it and aimed. With a swift kick of his foot, the bottle flew off the shelf and smashed onto the counter right in front of Morrigan, spraying them with even more alcohol and the shimmery glitter.

"Meet me by the door once you're done wiping that off too." He spoke into Morrigan's mind through the mental link. "And don't threaten me or insult me again."

With that, he scurried down into the basement, keeping to the shadows and staying out of sight as much as possible.

---

Hylltywyll's Shady Shelter
Mind Parasite
One With the Shadows

‘Ah, perfect. I can’t wait to enjoy this beverage without any interruptions.’ Morrigan thought, moving to take a sip of their new cocktail -

CRASH!

In a freak accident, one of the bottles from the shelf above fell to the bar right in front of Morrigan, glass shattering to pieces and spraying expensive alcohol everywhere, showering Morrigan in champagne and glitter, giving the charlatan a taste of their own medicine. Morrigan could only stand there, mouth agape, while that same voice echoed in their mind, warning the charlatan against threatening them again.

‘How did they… oh, hell. You can hear my thoughts right now, can’t you?’ Morrigan crossed their arms, huffing out an indignant breath while the bartender hastily moved to offer them another napkin. This did little to clean up the sticky drink that had already begun to seep into their clothes and their hair. There would be no cleaning this off.

‘It’s a free country, I can think what I want! Get out of my head!’ Morrigan hoped that whoever was on the opposing side of this mental link could feel every ounce of the charlatan’s annoyance. Oh, this was on. Morrigan could cooperate, but the capricious prankster would regret getting on their bad side. Drink abandoned and mood soured, Morrigan made their way to the door of interest. It wasn’t that difficult. They just had to follow the sound of the screaming from the basement, all the while wondering what possible devil they’d been partnered up with this time around.

"Hmmmmm, no." Hylltywyll taunted in Morrigan's mind as he snickered out loud. Gosh, this guy was too easy to mess with! They didn't feel like severing the mental link any time soon, not when they were having so much fun thanks to it. From his shady little hiding spot between some big casks of alcohol stood on their sides with little spigots, Hylltywyll heard Morrigan stomping down the stairs, probably really annoyed with him. No, definitely really annoyed with him. He could feel it, literally.

In the basement, someone else also noticed the Fellblood's approach. The wooden door with a face that looked painstakingly carved into it with tremendous care and detail. The wooden eyes suddenly moved to look toward the staircase and the mouth opened.

"Who's there!? What do you want!? Here to grab a refill? Out of booze, huh? It's all you ever come down here for. isn't it? What'll it be? Some shitty brandy? It's aged in-house you know! And by that, I mean it's aged in someone else's house and then rolled over here through the mud. You like drinking mud? Mud brandy? It's mud brandy!" The door started yelling until he got a good look at Morrigan.

"Yeesh, you look like you've got enough alcohol on you already. Why don't you just sip on your coat, you slob? You get rejected by a girl? Oh sorry, I mean by twenty girls? Did every one of them throw her drink on you?"

‘What do you mean, no?’ Morrigan parroted, incredulous, at the unseen voice’s swift denial to their demands. Morrigan stomped down the stairs, tail flicking behind them in irritation. ‘Well, I’ve got news for you, bucko. I’m not just stuck here with you in my mind. You’re stuck in here with me.’ And if one thought Morrigan was insufferable out loud, that paled in comparison to their inner thoughts.

As they walked, they took a deep breath, before immediately launching into a song in their mind. ‘OH, NINETY-NINE BOTTLES OF GIN ON THE WALL, NINETY-NINE BOTTLES OF GIN! TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND…’

And so on and so forth until Morrigan made their way down to where the door was located in the basement - it was a pretty normal door, save the startlingly realistic face carved into it, which seemed to spring to life the closer Morrigan got to it. They weren’t surprised as the door started shouting at them, considering that was the very reason they’d been sent here. Though the fact that the door was, apparently, a right asshole had conveniently not been included in the missive.

“Oi!” Morrigan protested, tugging their brocade off nonetheless, moving to hang it on a nearby coat rack in the hall. “I’ll have you know I am capable of wooing the ladies, thank you very much. I get bitches. Any time I want! This happens to be the result of a very unfortunate accident with a champagne bottle - you know, why am I even bothering arguing with a door, anyways?”

They huffed, pinching the bridge of their nose.

“Look, I’ll level with you, door - Mister Door? Do you even have a name? Doesn’t matter. The point is, you’re kind of an asshole. And people here are getting tired of your shit. So if you’re going to be stuck here, would you be a doll for me and put a little sugar on all this salty language before the mage’s guild is forced to come in and turn you into wood chips?”

… And where the hell was their partner during all this?

Hylltywyll was still hiding between some casks and watching the whole scene unfold. He snarled and put his hands to his ears, but it didn't help at all with the annoying Fellblood's singing directly in their mind. Oh, did they think that would be enough to stop the Fairy from tormenting them? Fine. He severed the mental connection. Now he'd just have to make up for all the mental pranks he couldn't pull anymore with an abundance of physical ones.

"Right, a very unfortunate accident with a champagne bottle, sure. Is that what you're calling it? I can understand why a lady would want to dump an entire bottle on you after hearing you say you get bitches any time you want though. Did you use that line on your date? You must be popular." The door replied in a completely deadpan tone. Apparently, the door's sense of humor was incredibly dry, unlike Morrigan right now.

Hylltywyll laughed within the shadows as he watched Morrigan getting an earful from a door of all people. Damn, he didn't even need to do anything right now. This door was already torturing that idiot on his own and Hyll had a front row seat. The little trickster had a lot more respect for a door right now than he did his partner.

The door narrowed its wooden eyes at Morrigan as they attempted to level with him. "Sugar? Doll? What, are you hitting on me now too? You're lucky I don't have any hands to throw a drink on you myself, since I'm a door. Calling someone an asshole and threatening to turn them into woodchips isn't a very good pickup line, you know. And my name is Dorian. Mister Door was my father."

“There was no date!” Morrigan huffed, patience rapidly wearing thin talking to this jerk. “Believe you me, if I’d actually wanted to date one of the fine ladies and gents that frequent this establishment, you can bet your ass I would be wooing them with sweet charm and sincere flattery.” Though, this line of conversation did raise a question in Morrigan’s mind… why hadn’t they been on dates as of late? They were usually the kind of person who flit from suitor to suitor, whatever interested them, but lately they just… hadn’t been feeling it. Huh. That was a mental conversation they would shelve for later when they weren’t arguing with a sentient door, and when they didn’t have some leech possibly still bouncing around in their mind.

“Unlike you. With that million dollar personality and award-winning face, I’d like to see you try to charm someone.”

Were they really about to start arguing with a door? Vaguely, Morrigan was aware that this was ridiculous, but they were rather put out after the unfortunate champagne incident, and they needed this victory.

They rolled their eyes, crossing their arms over their chest. “Oh, please, you wish that I would woo you. Alas, Dorian - is that really your name? You’re not my type. I prefer my men a little less flat and a little less rude.” They flipped their braid over their shoulder. “And it wasn’t a pickup line, it was a warning. The mage’s guild sent me here, along with some bozo partner who hasn’t even shown their face yet, to see what your deal is. They’re trying to determine whether they should just blast you to pieces and be done with it. Do you want to be blasted to pieces, mister Dorian? No? Then you better start being a little nicer to me.”

"Uh-huh." Dorian replied with a doubtful expression, one wooden eyebrow raised as he looked at Morrigan. "I can believe the no date part, but the rest is iffy."

Dorian looked annoyed, but didn't say anything in response to Morrigan's challenge to woo someone. He's a door, how is he supposed to lay on the charm? No one even came down here except to get more drinks, and they wouldn't stick around for long. What an irritating fellow. Did making fun of a talking door make him feel better or something? How could someone dripping with booze possibly stand there and say these things so confidently?

"Oh, I prefer my dates a little less flat and rude too. You're from the Mage's Guild? That explains a lot. Mages always are arrogant little twigs, aren't they? I bet comparing yourself to a literal door really made you feel good, didn't it? I can be a very charming door if I want to be. Just look as these chiseled features, literally!"

"Heh, did a pretty good job charming me already." A little voice suddenly came from behind Morrigan. Visible and audible, Hylltywyll had finally emerged from the shadows and quietly crept up behind the Fellblood with a mischievous smile. Watching their argument with the door was fun, but he'd decided to take a more active role in tormenting them now. Being called a bozo by Morrigan may have also had something to do with it.

"If you're gonna argue, let's make it a fair fight." Hylltywyll chuckled as he looked at Morrigan and snapped a finger. In an instant, the purple Fellblood that had been standing there was replaced by a large, slightly purple-tinged wooden door with an immaculate carving of Morrigan's face on it.

"There, now you can argue door to door."

---

Alter Reality

Morrigan was getting pretty fed up with this back and forth with Dorian at this point. “I’ll have you know, I lend my power to the mage’s guild. I do not do their bidding, do you hear me? This was merely a courtesy call… the next person they call won’t be as nice as me. And let me tell you - I’m the laid back and pleasant one!”

Oh, not for the first time did Morrigan wish they actually possessed even a modicum of magic. Then they could just blast the door to pieces themselves and be done with it. But seeing as they lacked any real talent for spellcasting, they were stuck here, arguing with the door, looking like a right idiot.

Before they could come up with what would undoubtedly be a witty and utterly charming retort that would knock the chiseled socks off of Dorian, a horribly spiteful and familiar voice butted in. Morrigan whirled around as the creature crawled out from the shadows like some awful eldritch being of nightmares - and in that moment, he truly was Morrigan’s.

“Oh, so now you show your face.” Perhaps Morrigan would have made the effort to be more kind and genial with someone they’d just met, but Morrigan had already been sprayed with champagne and were quite put out. Besides, this gremlin seemed like just as big of a jerk as Morrigan, and that was saying something! “So, are you going to help me take care of this door, or-“

They were quickly cut off as the gremlin flattened them. Literally. In one second, Morrigan was a fellblood of flesh and bone, and in the next, a door made out of elegant lavender mahogany, reduced to nothing but an admittedly attractive carving of themselves.

Doorigan would have recoiled in shock if they were capable of moving. But as it was they were kind of preoccupied with, you know, being a door that didn’t really move. The carving portion of them, however, told a completely different story. “Hey, what did you do to me? Just because I’ve been likened to a work of art doesn’t mean I actually want to be one! I demand that you turn me back to normal, you… whatever your name is!”

At least they still made a prettier door than Dorian!

Dorian was surprised, seeing the arrogant bag of skin and bones in front of him suddenly become another door, but his surprise quickly changed into laughter. Oh, how poetic! The jerk mocking him for being a door suddenly got turned into one themself. How deliciously ironic!

"Well, look at that! What, you don't like being a door? Afraid you're not gonna woo the ladies and gents anymore, huh? What a shame. Can't lend your power to the Mage's Guild anymore, can you? Maybe they'd let you lend them your new powers to be their bathroom door." Dorian mocked Doorigan with much more enjoyment in his voice than before.

The door (Dorian, I mean) looked down at the fuzzy Fairy that had delivered the comeuppance to Morrigan with a wooden smile. "So, who are you? This idiot sounded like he was expecting you to show up, but not to do that."

Hylltywyll completely ignored Doorigan's protests and demands to be turned back to normal as he walked up to Dorian to talk.

"Heheh. I'm from the Mage's Guild too, here to see what's making you yell and stuff. So, what's wrong?" Hylltywyll replied, stifling his cackling long enough to explain his reason for being there. It was a little strange being the more polite one in any situation for the gremlin, but it seemed like that was what he'd ended up being this time. And it seemed being just a bit nicer to him was enough to get Dorian to be a bit more forthcoming with his issues.

"Oh, well... I..." Dorian seemed a bit embarrassed. "I just wanted some attention. It's really lonely down here...." He mumbled sadly, his eyes looking away. He would never have admitted that to that purple prick that came down immediately threatening to turn him into woodchips, but this little gremlin felt oddly like someone he could relate to. They both enjoyed watching Morrigan suffer, at least.

Dorian looked at Doorigan with a look of uncertainty. "You said you're the laidback and pleasant one? Hmph." He asked in an accusatory tone. So that was a downright lie. It was obvious to him that the little hairy one was much more pleasant to be around.

The carving of Doorigan rolled their eyes - their body remained firmly in place on account of it being a door. After the initial shock of becoming a door and the appearance of that fuzzy thing wore off, it finally occurred to them that they should probably stop shit-talking their partner and actually try getting on his good side. Oh, that ship had probably sailed the moment Morrigan mentally threatened to wring his neck but at the very least they would try to salvage this situation. Being a door sucked! Well, Doorian was good at it, but it wasn’t the life for Morrigan!

They were really going to have to kiss ass to get out of this one. Thankfully, Morrigan was really good at sucking up and playing nice when need be.

They fell silent, listening to the mage’s guild fellow and Doorian talk while they formulated a plan. Well, if he was lonely… clearly, there was a solution here!

“If I may,” Said Morrigan, interjecting where they were unwanted as always, “I think I have the solution to both of our problems, Master Doorian. You’ll have to forgive me - my associate here left me quite put out when he spilled my drink on my earlier. Though it was all in a bit of fun, yes?”

They turned to the little fuzzy thing, the carving raising their eyebrows as if to suggest that everything was good between them.

“Now, as my friend said, we’re really here to figure out the source of the screaming in the basement of the Dancer’s Den. And lo and behold, we’ve found it! You’re lonely. Well perhaps we could help you, good Door. Obviously, if you desire companionship, then it’s only natural we would help find a friend for you. What if we found you a lovely lady door?”

Hylltywyll looked over his shoulder at Doorigan as thy began to speak. Did this guy really think their sudden change in attitude would fool him? He'd dealt with condescending people like them before, who only showed a little respect after they realized just who they were messing with. Hyll turned to face Doorigan, his little arms crossed in front of him with an annoyed look on his face. Not only that, but they were even selling his brilliant prank short by just saying he'd spilled a drink on them. It was far more planned out tan that!

"Hmph. I didn't spill your drink on you. You spilled it on you when you jumped just because I spoke to you, you scaredy cat." He said, jumping up and grabbing onto the handle on the front of Doorigan and pulling it down with his weight. With a little click, the handle turned and the lavender door opened, swinging backward so their carved face was now in the opposite direction, looking away from Dorian. Hylltywyll let go and walked back over to Dorian with a huff. Get rotated, idiot.

Dorian was laughing at the other door that, unlike him, wasn't made to be in control of his own lock and handle. When he finished, he looked at the little Fairy in front of him.

"Hm, you know, they did have a bit of a point, huh? If you could just get me a companion, I'd be pretty happy. Doesn't need a be a lady door though, that's a bit condescending, ain't it? Wouldn't mind it being any talking furniture, or just a regular person who can come and visit me down here often. Uh, whatever you did to turn them into a door, it's not permanent right? I don't want that door left down here with me forever, I think I'd just scream even louder."

Hylltywyll looked at the back of Doorigan with a smirk and pointed a finger at Dorian to forge the same mental connection he had with Morrigan earlier. Directly into the door's mind so that the other door couldn't hear him, he said "No, it's not permanent, but don't tell them!"

Out loud, he said something completely different. "It's permanent if I want it to be. Maybe if they behave, I'll change them back. But if they don't maybe they'll be the one turned into wood chips. Wouldn't want to leave them down here."

Morrigan couldn't see the smug look on Hylltywyll's face, but they could most likely hear it perfectly in his voice.

It was taking every ounce of Morrigan’s strength not to snip back while the horrible, vengeful fairy blamed them for their ruined drink. As it was, they needed to keep this guy on their side. Morrigan was, unfortunately, at his mercy. “Hmm, you say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to. Either way, water under the bridge, hmm-? Hey, what are you doing?”

They were helpless as he grabbed into their doorknob and spun them around - they’d been sufficiently rotated.

Doorigan could only stare, agape, at the wall they’d been forced into while the others talked. They tried to shake and shimmy themselves to rotate back into a front-facing position, but they could only move within the mural, they were entirely ineffectual at righting themselves. So they were stuck listening, twiddling their thumbs while they waited for the fairy to take mercy on them and flip them back.

“It doesn’t have to be a lady door!” They chimed in, completely unwanted. “It can be any kind of door, really. Doesn’t even have to be a door! Im sure we could find an enchanted pot or something for you!”

They fell silent again when the fairy spoke next.

Wait, permanent? What the hell? Morrigan couldn’t be a door forever, they’d go crazy! They’d scream just as loudly as Dorian and then the Dancer’s Den would have twice the problem on their hands! The mural pounded at their trappings ineffectually, tail thrashing wildly around them as they looked for a way to escape. “Wait… you wouldn’t agonize poor Mister Dorian here by leaving me, would you? We want to help him, so you should turn me back so we can find him some sort of lovely companion, right? I’ve got quite a bit of money on my person that we would be able to use to find our exploits that would make it worth your while…”

Yes, apparently they’d resorted to bribes, all shame flown out the window as they jingled their coin purse enticingly. Given that they were currently a carving in wood, it did not quite jingle as intended, but Hylltywyll would get the point.