"More than good enough, yes. New stories and tales have been in short supply in the last few millennia. And remember, you volunteereed to share."
Bernaditi places the dusty book back in its drawer and extracts a grayish bag from a walnut cupboard, showing the white-azure salt inside, taking care not to touch it. "Grave salt, as promised. Enough for a circle twenty - maybe twentyfive feet in radius. Pour it in a circle, make sure it's uninterrupted, and will it closed. Will that be all?"
"Ahh these are many sad tales.
Mine explains how I arrived in this place. I was out patrolling the edge of my tribes territory one day when the Great God Nahiri struck me with a vision... I rushed to Elder Finu's quarters, hoping and praying that what the Great God Nahiri had shown me was not true. I pushed past attendants and sycophants, penetrating through the bustle of the outer Elder Council room into the inner sanctum, forcing my way past the guards who were in no way ready me, and saw it. Elder Finu, dagger slashing across the throat of a child, the blood from the wound spraying up and coalescing in an otherworldly manner, collecting in the open mouth of the elder as his body shook, colour alternately draining from his body before flushing back to healthy and hale. He was draining the youth of our children in a foul ritual. I drew my father's father's weapon and rushed the crazed Elder, shouting to Nahiri, but before I could reach him I was bound in eldritch energy. His fellow Elder's had entered from behind and seized me in their arcane grasps.
As the last of the blood flowed into Elder Finu he lowered the knife and let the child's body slump in front of him. I remember his words so clearly - 'Ahhh, our Montoje, so nice of you to join us Hrain. I don't know what caused you to barge in here, but obviously this is a situation that we will not be able to resolve... reasonably'
'You monster! That is a child! We trusted you with our souls!'
'Foolish brute. This is our way. You are a relic and must be dealt with. Sleep now.'
Finu made a sequence of arcane gestures as I lost consciousness, and the next thing I knew I had woken up in the presence of the Nightpeddler. Gone from my world. Leaving my village to the depredations of the Elders. I will get out of this maze, and I will save them."
Hrain slumps as the story ends, feeling drained at finally releasing it into the world. He knows that all stories are important, and must be told, but he wishes that this one was not to be.
Niklos snatches the salt as soon as it comes within reach, simultaneously hopping to his feet and dashing towards the exit.
"No need to dawdle," he calls back, already halfway out the door. "Let's go 'n' get this over with. Better be worth it..."
The scoundrel keeps ahead of the party for a good while before he calms down, but nevertheless spends the rest of the way back to the Demon's Fen in a state of abject self-pity. He also smokes like chimney, quickly reaching the end of his tobacco supply. This does not serve to make him any less sulky.
"Slow down Nick! Who's being rude now! Thanks Bernie."
Edda quickly follows, her mind in her own head to care about the newbies too much.
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Marinda also follows, tears still streaming down her face. She doesn't say anything but manages to follow
Hrain follows morosely.
You leave the Midnight Cirsus, once again navigating the Briar towards Demon's Fen. Mourning Choir is still laying on the side, wordlessly sighing. She lets off a low groan as you pass by.
"You returned." states the Barrow Man in his coarse voice, leaning on his rusty greatsword as an old man would lean on a cane. "Is it to make good on your promises, or to take with violence what you could not get honorably?"
"Worry not," answers Niklos. "We are here to honour our vows."
Not feeling particularly verbose, the Sczarni hands the pouch of salt to Marinda. "Mind handlin' the prayers, Reader? You're the closest we've got to a priest, methinks. I s'pose the salt needs to go around the stone coffin in the middle, what with all the candles 'n' everythin'..."
Edda just stares at the Barrow Man and speaks cryptically.
"Faith is not just a word or a feeling. Sometimes it's a decision."
"Certainly, I'll do it if you wish"
Unless her knowledge religion tells her to do something differently, Marinda would do the following
Marinda proceeds to very carefully spread the ghost salt around the stone coffin, getting as large an area as she can while making VERY sure that the circle is totally complete.
After it is complete, she'd invoke a prayer to Pharasma and, at the culmination of the prayer, she'd channel Postive Energy to hopefully empower the ritual (NOT to harm undead)
The Barrow Man watches Marinda's ritual intently, as if mistrusting of her intentions. But once she closes the circle, empowering it with her will, a ripple spreads through the Fen. It's not any less cold, smell or generally unpleasant, but you feel as if an annoying background noise had suddenly ceased.
The relief on the Barrow Man's broken and rotting face is palpable. "After such a long time here, you just managed to surprise me. Even if it was to gain something, you granted these souls some measure of respite."
He shuffles to a nameless, corroded tomb and thrusts a skeletal hand in the damp earth, digging and stirring until he retrieves a canvas-covered bundle. On top of the bundle you see the red reflections of a large ruby through the mud.
"The Bard's Heart, as agreed. And I want you to have this as well, it's of no use to me. These scrolls contain ancient writings, I believe the Nightpeddler would pay you well for them."
Edda bows her head to the Barrow Man.
"Thank you Sir. Your generosity outshines the sun here. Keep the rest Marinda. We may need it again in the future."
She then starts backing away slowly to give the others time to say something before turning.
Marinda bows deeply to the Barrow Man
"I am glad that we were able to do what we did. Hopefully we'll be able to do more later. Thank you for your gift to us. May the light of the Moon shine upon you"
"I shall remember your kindness, Man of the Barrows. Thank you."
Hrain follows Edda.
Niklos bows silently along with the others, but says nothing. He instinctually pockets the token after noting its worth, and goes through the rest of the items as the group departs the graveyard, more out of habit than any real curiosity or interest.
"Thassilonian," he spits after a moment of study. "Worth a fortune to scholarly types, no doubt. Just the kind of artefacts we were after when Kora died..."
He shoves the scrolls at the others, not really caring about who, exactly. "You take it. I don't want anythin' to do with this..."
The canvas sky creaks as it turns to sunset, though the mists of the Fen are hiding it somewhat. Only the Prophet's Garden remain to be explored. And only one token remain to be collected.
Edda quickly grabs the scrolls from Niklos, knowing the value of a coin all too well.
"Careful! These are probably delicate! You giving up a fortune Nikki? Not much like you. Of course that story..."
Dropping the subject, Edda sighs, and continues.
"Come on, let's go meet my great, great, great...add infinitum...grandmother. Maybe. I think."
White marble walls, stained by ages and overgrown with thorns, surround this weed-choked garden. White cobblestones lead into the open gate, flanked on either side by tarnished bronze angels. A weather patio looks over what must once have been an immaculate garden of flowers and fruit trees, now overgrown with brambles and vines. Still, you can imagine the past beauty of this place, which still feels like happy endings and hard-earned bliss. The warm air is mercy on your skin after the Fen's oppressive cold, and the sunset tints everything in a soothing rose colour.
A short way further into the Garden, after a stagnant grey pond, you see a pear tree heavy with fruit, stubbornly surviving when everything decays. Like the Conspirators, it also looks genuine, unlike the ink and watercolour style shared by most things in the Realm. Under the tree, you notice two creatures apparently locked in a heated debate: one is a small humanoid, a goblin judging from its oversized head, wearing some sort of mask on its face. The other one is a unicorn.
"Steal food from poor, hungry, unarmed creature! This how good you are? Is mercy to be, uhm, merciful! Me picks pear, me haves right of snack!" proclaims the goblin in an impassionate oration.
"In my opinion" answers the unicorn, with an aria of superiority "creating a world with fewer goblins is a good act. As you are a wicked, little creature, appropriating this pear is a righteous action in the name of the greater good."
They don't seem to have noticed you.
Staring daggers, Edda then shakes her head and rolls her eyes, with her arms crossed.
"By Desna! Why can't we just have a rampaging...anything! Just ANYTHING else than these badly drawn, half-real people with delusions of literacy!"
"Are you kidding? This is wonderful!! Meeting the Harrow Cards and actually talking to them? Fantastic!!"
With that, she speaks up
"Now now dears, surely there is no need for violence here. Perhaps we can act as independent judges and determine what should best be done? Would you please tell us what has happened."
Hrain whispers to Edda while Marinda speaks to the strange creatures.
"Agree with this thing I do. Stories are important, but sometimes it is easier to have obvious obstacles."
Niklos attempts to slip quietly by, trying to get a closer look at the pear tree while Marinda engages with the storykin.
"Well" says the unicorn, smugly "if you wish to know, this scoundrel here took a pear from the tree. Being the virtuous creature that I am, I could not possibly tolerate such a foul creature to have such an advantage, and I collected it." It lifts a leg, showing a juicy pear lying underneath. "It was a just and noble act for my objective of a world without such ugly creatures as goblins."
"Me picks pear!" says the goblin, behind a papier-maché mask vaguely resembling a unicorn. "Is very good and kind people and not ugly goblin, nossir! Me was being hungry and taking nice little snack but bad unicorn did very bad thing, taking pear from good and kind unicorn that is me! Pear I picked myself, doing all work!"
The pear tree looks as real as you and the Conspirators. Possibly it was brought here from the outside world, not crafted from story stuff.
This scene is apparently subverting the nature of the cards: the Unicorn represents offering what is sought, but this one is withholding the pear from the goblin, for no good reason; the Idiot is a cart of trickery and deceit, but the goblin's bluff is very transparent, and the creature is ignoring hundreds of other pears growing on the tree. Untangling this situation will require a non-trivial degree of persuasion or deception, however you choose to approach it.
Gesturing to the others, Edda sighs and whispers to them.
"This is a perversion of the cards! The Unicorn represents giving, but is refusing to give the pear. The Idiot is a deception card, yet its disguise is ridiculous at best, not to mention there are plenty of other pears. What we do from here..."
She looks at Niklos pointedly.
"...needs to be persuasive. Settle the dispute, get them back on track to their nature."
Marinda steps up to the Unicorn and whispers to it
"Great and noble Unicorn, clearly the goblin is wrong to take from you. But if you give it a pear, a different pear, you'll totally defeat its purpose in stealing a pear. By GIVING it YOU win and not it"
She'll then step up to the goblin and whisper to it
"Oh sneaky goblin, you can trick that silly Unicorn. If you pretend to repent and give back the pear, you'll fool it into giving YOU a pear. And then YOU win and not it"
Niklos shrugs at Edda. He leans casually on the pear tree, watching Marinda's process with an appraising eye.
"Let's see how you can spin a tale, Reader..."
The unicorn seems to consider Marinda's words. "There is trickery in your words, but you raise a good point."
The creature rises and snatches a low-hanging fruit with his teeth, dropping it in front of the halfling. "You shall not have that one pear, but this one you may."
But the goblin just looks at the pear and then Marinda, a bovine expression behind the papier-maché mask. "That my pear." he says, flatly. "This, not."
"Anybody got any good ideas? I'd prefer to not take it from him by force if somebody has a better idea"
Ed scratches her chin and whispers to the others.
"I think we just need to convince the Idiot that the other pears are just as good as the one the Unicorn has. Or that the one the Unicorn has is NOT his pear..."
She then turns to the Idiot.
"You are WRONG! That IS your pear you...Idiot! Can't you tell? Do NOT tell me you can't tell the difference!"
Niklos sighs, shaking his head. "Amateurs. I'm really not in the mood right now..."
Nevertheless, the swindler swoops in, donning his winningest smile. "What my dear cousin is trying to tell you, good sir—who is most assuredly a unicorn, and not an ugly goblin—is that this pear is undoubtedly the better of the two. My, I dare say I have never seen a more delectable treat in my life! But if you do not wish to sample this lusciously succulent fruit, I am more than happy to take it off your hands..."
He reaches down, exaggeratedly tentative in his motions, as if taunting the goblin to snatch it before he can.
The goblin looks unfazed by Edda's attempts at deception, until Niklos reaches for the fruit. He quickly falls into his trap, jumping to grab the pear, finally distracted from the prize. "Good! Yes! Good pear, me eat this! Juicy!"
He takes a step away from the tree, then rustles through his pockets and drops six more pears on the ground. On each of them is written, in brighter green, the word fearnot. "This for you that got good fruit to me! Have bad bad writing on, steal word from mind! Can eat if you dare!"
The unicorn looks at its rival go with detached and arrogant amusement. "Ah, some peace and silence now that the little pest goes away, having finally accepted defeat. Principles are what matters, are they not? I'm thankful for your assistance, have this old thing as a reward."
With its teeth, the equine reaches in the grass, pulling an old, weathered horn and offering it to the group. In that moment the last rays of the setting sun shine on something in the roots of the majestic tree, something that wasn't there earlier. Looking closer, you notice a glimmering diadem.
Niklos being the hand-sy one of the group, Edda defers to him on the proffered horn and looks more closely at the diadem and raises an eyebrow pointing.
"What's THAT...oh Just and Fair one?"
She then walks over and reaches down for one of the 'fearnot' pears the Idiot dropped and tries to recall anything she might on such a thing.
"Thank you both. I'm glad this all got resolved peacefully"
To the others
"I think that this seems like a good place to spend the night"
"Agreed, I could use a rest. Handily done you two."
"Sometimes pears are born with concepts on them. Wild ideas floating around, I think. But words have power."
The "fearnot" pears look delicious. They also look faintly magical.
Edda takes a bite of the 'fearnot' pear she picked up.
Marinda will try and identify the pears
"I have no idea what these do except what the name implies. I'm guessing that they make us brave and protect us from becoming afraid"
Hrain grabs a pear at random.
"If a good story it makes, what kind of hero would I be in denying it?"
He takes a large bite of the pear.
Hrain and Edda chew on the pears. They are bittersweet, ripe and juicy, and the taste of real food after the Harrowed Realm's artificial replacements and bland wandermeal is a delight. And then, a jolt of energy runs through their veins, a brief feeling of unshakable courage and confidence. For a moment, nothing feels impossible, no foe too dangerous.
"This old horn is a focus. You can channel minor magics through it, and its power will know the incantation from your mind and will."
Edda looks at the pear with a smile.
"Finally something real!"
Edda then suppresses the urge to finish off the pear, wrapping the remainder in a cloth and putting it away safely in her sash.
"Sweet deliciousness! I would recommend you try some my friends."
Niklos shrugs, grabbing some of the pears and slumping down at the foot of the tree.
Yawning, Edda sits near Niklos under the tree.
"I thought this was a grave site. Is she buried under the tree you think?"
Marinda also grabs a couple of pears.
Niklos scratches his chin, humming noncommittally. "Well, I dunno if there was much left of 'er to bury. You know, what with 'er being eaten by, uh... her kids. Still walkin' around in some form or 'nother, too—if that twit Brambles is to be believed, that is. Could've done us a favour and stayed dead. Graverobbin' is a lot easier than murder, believe you me..."
The swindler gazes forlornly into his empty tobacco pouch. "Oh, drat. Should've shaken down Bernie for some coffin nails..."
Prophet's Garden is definitely the most comfortable place you've seen in the whole Harrowed Realm. The grass is soft, the air is pleasantly warm and you are awakened by a rosy dawn, while the unicorn is snoozing to one side of the pear tree. Further away from the Tangled Briar's entrance, the path continues towards a shape like a pavilion.
Picking up the diadem, Edda takes a closer look at it.
In the morning, Marinda consults her deck and then does a spread for herself. As she reveals the last card (the centre card) she mutters to herself. The Betrayal.
A whispy spirit comes to her and tells her that today it will help her. At a small price. Reluctantly, Marinda agrees to the bargain.
Spirit - Wind.
Hex - Wind sight
She then consults the deck once more, this time to determine what the cards have in store for her today (Harrowed Feat)
Snakebite! +2 to one intelligence check.
"Everybody, would you like for me to do a reading for what the cards have in store for us today? If so, please come over. First, of course, we must determine what it is we want the cards to influence"