The trees seem to whisper as you walk through the forest toward the Mad Hatter's abode. As you draw near, the murmurs begin to mingle with the distinct sounds of shouts, laughs, boisterous singing, and the occasional smash of china or burble of a dormouse falling into a pot of tea. A few more meters and you are standing in a clearing, observing a scene of pure chaos. Teacups, saucers and biscuits are flying through the air, spoons are being juggled, people are dancing on the table... You smile and sigh, happy to be home.
The March Hare hears your sigh and peers out from under the tablecloth. Quickly he says, "I see you've decided to join us for tea-- but we've found you something much better, you'll see!"
The Hatter sighs and explains, "For the time being, as beings of times, we're instructed to speak to you only in rhymes. We've constructed a trail of couplets and verse; if you find it annoying, it could be much worse."
When you ask if he might be a bit more specific, he rolls his eyes and hands you a piece of paper before turning away and burying his nose in his tea.
The Hatter rubs his nose and takes the scrap of paper back. "You see, there are prizes that wish to be won-- you should start at the Gryphon's Home Under the Sun."
