LMoS Quadrivium

Game Master BinkyBo


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Gramps and Parmol walk you back to their fishing spot on the near bank - a few dozen yards east of the Palanquin Path's bridge over the river. Gramps takes the heaviest - most wicked headed "anchor" spear, wades into the rushing river, and drives it straight downward. He tests it, and nods.

They then each take a spear with coiled ropes, and a band of barbed netting in between. They drive them into the riverbed as well - the three spears forming a triangle. They secure the netted spears to the anchor spears with long ropes, prepare short spears, and with their off-hands raise the net.
The net catches the force of the river like a full sail. Gramps and Parmol spear (with their "spikers") at the fish attempting to skirt around at each side, and after a few moments lift their netted spears and drive them down again - both working their way toward the anchor spear. It must require a considerable amount of strength and balance to do this against the force of this river.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Suny watches the men go about their business with interest and admiration.


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Standing back, Anumil watches warily.


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

"Why not use those eyeball things..." Anumil whispered to the others.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Sunny shudders a little at Anumil's suggestion and shakes her head as she steps away, closer to those fishing in the river... Even going close enough to get her feet wet in the splashing of the stream.


using ioun stone eyes:

The landscape looks slightly less lush, and the statues along the sides of the bridge look like tarnished metal rather than stone.
The fish are ghostly outlines - illusions? (DC15 know arcana). Beyond that, everything at the moment looks similar to how it appears without the ioun stone's enhancement.

The water is remarkably clear... you can see the fish as you step up closer on the riverbank. Long, slender, silver and jade fish with a catfish-like mouth. tiny frog-like forearms, and a tadpole-like tail. There is an unbelievable number of them - like an unending school.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Sunny leans down closer and looks intently at the swimming critters, absently wiggling her toes happily in the waters as she does so. After a moment she stands, still frowning a little.

"Um... not.. fishes... " She ponders.

"Ah! FROGGYS!" (^_^)

She exclaims, happy to have worked out the tadpole critters.


"Wow. Shall we help?"


They tug the net toward the shore. Gramps responds,"Ha! Next time, perhaps!" as they kick open the lids to submerged wicker baskets.

The children return with a bottle, and stand at a cautious distance - eying all of you curiously.
Once the fish are in the baskets, they're loaded into wheelbarrow-like carts.

You hear shouting from fisherman upriver - pointing toward the source.

Gramps grabs the goofy kid by the shoulder. "Fievic, be a good young matronguard and lead these folks and your siblings to town."

He turns to you with his voice low. "Please... it's better to not be here when the purge comes. I don't like the children to see it. We won't be far behind."
Parmol takes a few good swallows from the bottle.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Sunny helps load the barrow, being quite adept at handling fish.

Profession Sailor1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Though also seeming to quite enjoy a lot of splashing about and other-wise playing in the water.

At the other men's call, she stops and peers at what ever it is they are making a commotion about.

Perception:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

Then she looks to the folks she with, "Whut's happenin? Whut's goin' on?" She asks perplexed.


There is a darkness in the river moving toward you from the source. The water is turning red. You see the tadpole-like fish turn toward it against the strong current. Their forelegs claw at the riverbed scrambling upstream like climbers scaling a wall in unthinkable conditions.

The children instructed to lead you across the bridge make whimpering tearful sounds - trying not look. The goofy "young matronguard" boy yells to you "Hurry!"

Unrecognizable globs of fleshy bits and bone come with the flow of reddened water. The mass of fish begin to feed violently - tail-slapping and biting at others of their school for the largest chunks.

wearing Henry's eyes:

As you cross, you see that the sides facing the bridge of statue's pedestals on either side are transparent smoky glass. Within are smallish constructs - arms pulling levers and pressing buttons - glowing red amber and yellow-green. Their heads have protrusions which look much like spyglasses - which sway scanning the length of the bridge, but then fix on your group.
Sunny percep result:
The fisherman further upstream stand on the river's edge. There is something strange about how they stand there - their shoulders heave and their head tilt downward as one might do preparing to charge with ferocity.

Continue following the children to the village?
Hang around to investigate further?


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Escortin' a young 'uns. Yeah.... that seem ta' tha' right thing ta' be doin'... yeah.... (>_>)


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Startled out of inertia, Anumil strode forward to follow the children.
He glanced at the reddening of the water uneasily, wondering what it meant.


Corum watches with interest the water activity.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Quickly skipping out of the changing tides of the river, Sunny catches up with the two children and offer to link arms.

Diplomacy:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Thence begins to natter away brightly and proceed skip into the village. (^_^)

Yay tha' dice roller. :P


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Noticing Sunny moving down the road with the children, he whispered "Let's follow the girl. Walk casual."
Bluff: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29
Anumil suited action to words as he started strolling along exaggeratedly casually, whistling softly and with his crossbow over his shoulder. He tried to stay alert.
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7


The children look reluctant to link arms with Sunny. The construct's eye-attachment swivels away from its position - no longer peering toward Anumil. As you near the village, the childrens' moods brighten, and the palpable ominous threat in the air thins.
You hear music - waltz-like, but more triumphant(?)... slightly odd for festival music, but close enough. There are stalls set up in front of storefronts, and on the near side of clearing at the village center - where the six-piece band plays. Along the north and south sides of the village center are stalls and areas for the games of chance, skill, and strength commonly seen at such events - some decidedly outdated.
A pair of lavishly gowned women with "cute kitten" features exit a tent - crossing your path. The sign on the tent reads "Become the you you dream of... Facemaking - 20g, Full Body - 35g, Clothing and accessories - 10g." About another couple dozen people throughout the festival goers have such illusiory(?) modifications... mostly children with minotaur, wolfmen, and open-mouth mephit heads.

The children speed up upon sight of a woman stepping out from behind a near-empty stall of fish. She smiles at the children, then eyes you.

perception DC25:
Someone is watching you very intently from within the facemaker tent, and trying not to be seen. Silky scarf and veil.


On the far side of the village center, fine curtains.. royal red and fringed gold, are hanging from a high stage of lacquered black walnut... seemingly too large and too grand for the event and environs. The sun is nearing the horizon, and the lanterns are being lit. Well over a hundred people are milling about here... eating, playing games, or staking out spots in front of the stage.

The young matronguard goofy boy turns to you, "Games'll be shut down in an hour when the show begins... so you best hurry, sirs... ma'am."


hp 33/38 ac 24,12,22 (22 12 20), f 6, r 3, w 7, melee 7, ranged 5, cmb 7, cmd 19 (22 grpl), init +2 saurian shaman druid/5
skills:
acro 11, bluff 10, hndl an 8, k geog 4, k. nature 6, perc 11, sm 3, stealth 7, surv 10, swim 4

perc: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22

Arcthyl points out the woman by the fish stall... "She seems inordinately interested in us. We must be quite a sight here."

He makes note of the stage and heads over in that direction. "A show? wonderful!"


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Anumil felt oddly relieved when the construct eye swiveled away from him.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Later, in town, he nodded at Arcthyl.
"Yes indeed, fairly normal for this size of town. What kind of show is it you think?" He pondered aloud.


hp 33/38 ac 24,12,22 (22 12 20), f 6, r 3, w 7, melee 7, ranged 5, cmb 7, cmd 19 (22 grpl), init +2 saurian shaman druid/5
skills:
acro 11, bluff 10, hndl an 8, k geog 4, k. nature 6, perc 11, sm 3, stealth 7, surv 10, swim 4

"I don't know.. maybe the locals do... "... and he proceeds to ask about among the townsfolk about the nature of the upcoming show...

"Excuse me, sir... what is this show about, do you know?" and so forth, until he gets an seemingly knowledgable answer.


After bits and pieces, the most clear answer comes from a man setting out benches which had been stored under the stage."It is a performance by Huesto Androsicci the Unrivaled. Perhaps the greatest performer of all time. He is doing a collection of pieces from "The Culling" and "The Ghost of Pepperidge Mire." Expect a good show... you will not be disappointed."

Several less-helpful villagers who'd at least stopped to speak with Arcthyl, stress the importance of "trying a dunker"... some apple and sausage mixture baked inside - essentially griddle cake mix. A variety of sugary syrups and combinations thereof are laid out on the counter of the popular foodstall, as well as on the fingers and faces of those pushing the local cuisine.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Sunny's cheerful mood brightens to full exuberance at the prospect of the fun and games all on display.

Diplomacy:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Perception:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Though her foreign ways and manner of speech don't seem to find favor with the locals... That she seems quite happy to spend coin may go some ways to mitigating her strangeness...

Dang dice roller. :P


hp 33/38 ac 24,12,22 (22 12 20), f 6, r 3, w 7, melee 7, ranged 5, cmb 7, cmd 19 (22 grpl), init +2 saurian shaman druid/5
skills:
acro 11, bluff 10, hndl an 8, k geog 4, k. nature 6, perc 11, sm 3, stealth 7, surv 10, swim 4

While waiting for the play to begin, Arcthyl will lay out a little coin and 'try a dunker' as he's being pushed to do... Whether he likes it or not, he'll express enjoyment of it, trying to please the locals a little.


per: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (11) + 13 = 24

Corum waits for the show.


An older fellow at the dunker food stall does a double-take when he sees Arcthyl. He quickly brushes bits from his beard, and excuses himself from a conversation to greet Arcthyl.

"Good evening to you, Ancient One. It's been many years since we've been visited by someone of your lineage. An honor... a great honor. Oh!... My name is Otholear... I serve as town leader here." He bows.

"And is this your entourage?" he gestures vaguely in the direction of the rest of the group.


A young girl with the head of mephit runs up to Sunny, waves, then motions for her to follow as she runs off toward the first tents you'd passed upon entering.


hp 33/38 ac 24,12,22 (22 12 20), f 6, r 3, w 7, melee 7, ranged 5, cmb 7, cmd 19 (22 grpl), init +2 saurian shaman druid/5
skills:
acro 11, bluff 10, hndl an 8, k geog 4, k. nature 6, perc 11, sm 3, stealth 7, surv 10, swim 4

Arcthyl blinks in surprise, not being generally welcome in most human communities. He stammers a moment, then recovers... "They... they are my companions, yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Otholear. It is a fine time to be among you, it seems, we have timed our visit to coincide with your celebration."


HP 28 / 28 Init: +3, Perc: +11, (AC=18)

Suny happily skips off after the lass. (^_^)


Otholear smiles as his eyes follow Sunny... "Lost one to the facemaker it appears. I wonder what she'll choose. A good deal of gold is spent there - for something temporary and only half-real to boot."

"Enjoy the show. The Processional will take place directly after. There is an energy in the air... excitement. The signs and rumors of the Matron truly arriving have made my flock quite anxious."


(any and/or all feel free to notice Sunny, and follow)

The mephit-headed young girl disappears into the 20'x20' peach-colored tent of the Facemakers. A hand pulls the tent flap back.
"Please... come in.. Sunny."

In the center of the tent is an impossibly old person of indeterminable gender - from what you see behind scarf and burka. The figure is seated in a nest of pillows. The mephit girl hops onto a padded stool between you. Another figure steps in from the opposite side of the tent, and drops her hood. It is Dorlynae from the hermit's shack.

The mephit girl bounces on the stool "I did it, I brought one. Change me back, change me back!"

The old one looks sidelong at the child "Silence. You have no mouth. No ears to hear." , and makes a pair of sweeping gestures.. both ears and mouth shrink to nothing on the mephit face.

The old one turns back to Sunny. "I am Madame Shkoata. My eyes pierce the veil. My will can alter how this world shapes what others perceive as real." She gestures again toward the child - around whom a mist forms as she morphs into a human male child with no mouth and no ears. He tilts his head and casts annoyed eyes toward Madame Shkoata.
Madame Shkoata continues... "The time has come for this world to crumble. Help me kill the Matron, and I will guide you and your allies home."


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Anumil glanced at Sunny as she ducked into a tent with a child, but he had gotten involved in a fiendishly difficult ring toss game and was concentrating on his pitch.


hp 33/38 ac 24,12,22 (22 12 20), f 6, r 3, w 7, melee 7, ranged 5, cmb 7, cmd 19 (22 grpl), init +2 saurian shaman druid/5
skills:
acro 11, bluff 10, hndl an 8, k geog 4, k. nature 6, perc 11, sm 3, stealth 7, surv 10, swim 4

Arcthyl follows Sunny at a short distance... when he gets to the tent.. he pauses a moment outside, then lifts the flap and peers inside, depending on his preternatural vision to give him a clear view if it is dark inside... "Sunny... is all well?"


Corum looks over the assembled group with the magical devices that allow him to see things as they are. He looks for magic, using his cantrip to locate sources of strong magic in the area.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Sunny at first nods and smiles to those she's introduced to within the folds of the tent. Though the Matron's actions towards the child startle and worry the tanned Elf. Quick to step over an reassure the poor child with a hug Sunny frowns, even as Arcthyl looms into the space.

"Nah, every thing be all okeys." Sunny frowns at the Madame Shkoata,

"Ye've a tilted ways of showin' things. Treatin' tha' young-un so! Be nice! Or we'll be thinkin' less of ye an' whut t'is ye be wantin'." Sunny's resolve to see the child unharmed stiffens.


Madame Shkoata waves dismissively with a mild sneer...
"Eks-oont-teef."
The boy's ears and mouth reform "Run off now." and he scoots out of the tent.

She eyes Arcthyl for moment, Dorlynae leans to her ear and she nods.
"Yes. His features are somewhat akin to a ravenous."

She then comments on Sunny's response..."They will all suffer far greater terrors before this night has ended. We will shatter their belief prior to the Matron's coming... this will further weaken her."

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

The rosy-cheeked mustached man at the ring toss stall gives Anumil a smiling shrug. "Good enough to win another go at it, at least." He slides another five rings to Anumil. "You know... you needn't aim for the trickiest peg every time. There are plenty of fine albeit lesser prizes here. Stuffed animals, decoratively etched mirror, sparkle-glass necklaces, a collapsible mug! .. for the man on the go. You travel, yes?"
5g per 5-ring try (this one is free)
AC 12 for easy pegs 1pt
AC 15 for mid pegs 2pts
AC 20 for "tricky" peg 4pts
7pts wins another turn
9pts wins cheap prize
13pts wins ~30gp worth of prize
19pts wins ~200gp worth of prize
20 wins top prize

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Corum sees the dreary and slipshod reality behind the "veil". The entire village emits a minor aura... The idyllic appearance of the festival and greater environment is not illusion, but phantasm - half-real... down to the children's aberrant "masks" and others modifications by the Facemaker. The stage is weathered wood with a mossy slime rather than lacquer.
The man Arcthyl had been speaking with, and by Corum's count, four others have the blurred faces of a "Phantom".
Village leader Otholear starts heading across the village center toward Corum.

Corum:
After about thirty seconds of this, you notice all of the phantoms are facing you.
1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Sunny offers the lad a reassuring hug before he nips out. At Madame Shkoata's words Sunny straightens,

"Well then, t'is up ta' us ta' be helpin' folks as bestest we can, then." The tanned Elf replies with determination in her voice and iron in her posture.

"We be fightin' tha' good fight."


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.
Mustached man wrote:
"You know... you needn't aim for the trickiest peg every time. There are plenty of fine albeit lesser prizes here. Stuffed animals, decoratively etched mirror, sparkle-glass necklaces, a collapsible mug! .. for the man on the go. You travel, yes?"

"Hah! I am a traveller indeed! But I am simply playing for the challenge." Anumil said, putting his five 1gp coins down in exchange for the rings.

Taking his time, he aimed for the most difficult target.
Toss 1: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14 Miss.
Toss 2: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19 Ooo, just missed!
Toss 3: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 Hit! 4 points
Toss 4: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26 Direct hit! 4 points
Toss 5: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11 Miss.
8 points total; he trades 7 points for another toss.
Toss 1: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21 Hit! Add 4 points for total of 5 points.


Corum explains that he sees five as phantoms using magic sight.

He points them out.
"Phantoms here, here, and here."


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Anumil arched an eyebrow at Corum as he laid down the coins for another five rings.
"Well, yes. I would expect most of these hereabouts are phantoms. But we seek the Dreamers, are we not? Can you see any of them?"


Town Leader Otholear - who'd been making his way toward Corum - looks to where the elf points. He closes the remaining distance with a quickened pace, and stern look. He keeps his voice low, and as villagers pass, he scolds through a false smile to not make a scene himself...
"You should not be here... but you are. At least try to blend in. Outworlder psyches running amok and unchecked risks generating dangerous anomalies. Any of the innocents who discover they live in a false world will be terminated... this is meant to be a joyous day. Don't force us to conjure a horrific event."

Corum:
The Phantoms are the Dreamers.. more precisely, the Phantoms are the phantasmal projections of those whose bodies are elsewhere in a dreaming state (the Dreamers).


Corum nods.
"I am the guest here."


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Trying to listen in on Corum's conversation with the old man, Anumil was less attentive as he tossed.
Toss 1: 1d20 + 6 - 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 - 6 = 10 This one sailed over the target. Wide miss.
Toss 2: 1d20 + 6 - 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 - 6 = 1 This one sailed back over his shoulder, circled a cats tail, who ran off squalling with the ring. Miss.
Toss 3: 1d20 + 6 - 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 - 6 = 11 This one bounced off a passing baby pram. Miss.
Toss 4: 1d20 + 6 - 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 - 6 = 19 This one landed on the two peg. 2 points.
Toss 5: 1d20 + 6 - 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 - 6 = 12 This one bounced off of Corum's knee. Miss.


Otholear tips his head in response to Corum's simple statement.. an "I'll grant you that...". He speaks - his forced smile relaxes into a genuine smirk. "Enjoy the show." He blinks out of sight. No one - not one of villagers seems to notice his disappearance.

Seconds later, someone yells out... "Good evening ladies and gentlemen! Thank you all for coming!" A man in a fine suit with plum-colored vest, jacket, and pants addresses the crowd from the stage. He smiles big and clasps his hands... waiting for stragglers to gather in front. "As you all know... tonight is a special night, and I am proud to introduce the greatest performer to have ever walked these lands - Huesto... the Unrivaled!"

Those working the games and food kiosks leave their stalls... the one working the ring toss shrugs at Anumil as he passes "Had some nice throws there... can't win'em all, I s'pose."

Inside the Facemaker's Tent
"Good." Madame Shkoata winks at Sunny ... then breathes deep.
She eyes both Arcthyl and Sunny as the announcement outside the tent is heard. "The performance about to begin. Go. What must be done will soon be clear."


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

Sunny returns Shkoata's wink with a bright smile of her own, nodding at the woman's request before spinning about and skipping quickly out of the tent and towards where all the commotion and excitement seems to be getting ready to start. (^_^)


hp 33/38 ac 24,12,22 (22 12 20), f 6, r 3, w 7, melee 7, ranged 5, cmb 7, cmd 19 (22 grpl), init +2 saurian shaman druid/5
skills:
acro 11, bluff 10, hndl an 8, k geog 4, k. nature 6, perc 11, sm 3, stealth 7, surv 10, swim 4

Feeling summarily dismissed, Arcthyl nods to the woman and slips out of the tent, heading with SUnny to the source of the noise and excitement... "I suppose we should find the others and discover what's going on here."


M Elf Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) L5 | AC (22) 21 T16 FF16 (CMD22) | HP 50/50 | Saves F2 R7 W0 | Percep +6 | Init: +5 | Panache: 5/5 | Condition: A little drunk; and shaken.

Anumil throws a grin and shrugs at the ring toss attendant.
"Not at all. You just have to keep trying." He called back.
He sauntered into the crowd at the stage, curious to see what this performance was all about.


HP 30/ 30; Perc +3; Init +4; AC 20(21)Defensive:23

*Skippin', skippin', skipin'...* (^_^)


Corum stays aware of the reality, but enjoys the fantasy with the others.

"Shall we move on."

Call of Cthulu had a dreamlands expansion. Characters could be 'dreamers'. This is Cool!!


The man in the plum suit spreads his arms dramatically...
"The Culling...", and bows deep. As the curtains begin to part, the man shuffles and drops off the stage, and slips through a short door - an unmarked panel on the side of the platform.

The front curtain separates... A sizable man in light stone-colored plain but tailored robes, neatly trimmed goatee stands in the center. Huesto Androsicci has an undeniable presence even before moving or speaking a word.
He waves a hand.. palm facing himself, fingers spread and upward. Hovering lights appear between the sheer curtain and black curtain - furthest back on the stage.
The crowd turns silent.

The globes of light lazily bob as they turn to shades of yellow, green, and blue. The sound of deep toned strings, and pipe organ playing slow and somber chords fade in. Huesto's finger flit in time with the music as if conducting the unseen ensemble.

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