Arc 5 Post 28: Weighting Nightmares
Weighting Nightmares
27st of Rova 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)
The temple of Pharasma can be seen from throughout Fleet and beyond, a spite of white, holy wood Mina informs you, though she seems as startled at the sight as you are. In Barstoi, and indeed all of Ustalav, the cathedrals of the Lady of Graves are wrought of stone, the better to endure the march of time and other fouler things that she does not wish to name 'least it darken the light of day'. The light of day seems, thankfully, quite dark for once. Yesterday's storm clouds linger and the wind tugs as cloaks this way and that like the wings of startled birds. As you approach, the bustling sounds of the harbor growing ever louder, Mina slows almost imperceptibly, looking for something among the crowded streets, though she surely does not find it in the bundle of flowers a girl shoves in her face looking for 'a t'piece'.
"Here," she tosses the coins. "Listen, is the temple of Pharasma up ahead?"
"Yes mam," the girl answers, suddenly very attentive.
"Where's the litchyard then?" She looks east towards the Fresh Harbor, troubled by what you cannot say.
The girl takes a moment to work through the question then shrugs. "Ain't no graves here that I know of. Down Cooper's way's closest, but it's not close."
Lost 2 cp
As she pays the child and takes the flowers, almost as an afterthought. Mina takes another longer look at the temple which you follow, though you couldn't tell odd from ordinary when it comes to temples under the sun. The windows flash in the sun, stained with purples, greens, reds, and blues, images of bones and flowers, trees and vines, and spirals, always spirals, that catch and hold the eye. Stepping out into the narrow open space, half square half courtyard, before the temple steps you find it filled a more quiet crowd: women with their heads wrapped in scarves, sailors and longshoremen scrubbed and in their Sunday best. A pair of children are sitting on the grass, playing a game that involves a lot of hand slapping while their mother tries to calm a fussy infant. People obviously have things to do here, and just as obviously they do not involve cursed rings plucked from the depths of Nar Voth.
You take a seat in the shade of a nearby yew tree, where your shadow can't be seen, as Mina, with Pepper padding at her heels, goes ahead to ask how you might meet with the high priest 'for a matter of grave concern'. That is what you had settled on in the end, not so alarming as to get you side-eyed by any passing inquisitors, not so trivial as to leave you cooling your heels. Maybe you should have gone for something more explicit... You watch as Mina is greeted just inside the great doors by a pair of initiates in blue and white who seem rather startled to see her. One of them remarks something about the cat, who proceeds to jump onto his mistress' shoulder without missing a beat, perhaps proving her sorcerous credentials. Better than having to actually work magic in front of a crowd, you never know how people might react to spell-work from an unfamiliar quarter.
Mina Diplomacy (DC 11): 1d20+1 = 20 (Success)
Thus you enter the temple of the Spiral of Fate. Within the light streaming through the high windows turns the marble tiles into a fresco of glittering colors, delicately carved spirals appearing and disappearing with perspective and distance. Long benches are set before book supports of all things, dozens of them. Where would you even find so many people that can read even in this city, much less get them all in the same room?
The question does not linger long as your gaze is draw to the third priest in the chamber, an old man, his head bald and shinny as an egg, his cloak the color of the sky over purple robes and a sash denoting some manner of ecclesiastical rank, cleans a ceremonial, though still sharp, dagger in a bowl on the small wooden table at the head of the pews.
He looks up with a wide smile, taking in your oiled cloaks and sturdy travelers' garb at a glance, though thankfully from about the knees up, your shadow unseen as it contorts among the stones.
"Welcome travelers, I am Kastor Tuvius, keeper of this temple and minister to its people by the grace of Pharasma. Though you are not of this land, all souls pass through her stewardship in the end. How may I be of service?"
Umbral Unmasking: 1d20+3 = 4 (Critical Failure)
"We... ah, discovered a cursed thing in halls deep under the earth..." Hesitantly at first, then growing more steady, Mina giver her account, sparing nothing from the fight with the palebellies you tracked back to the temple to the fight with the ambush in the cavern. Most of all she describes the hideous nightmare rider that had come to reclaim its vessel as she brings it forth.
The good cheer has long since drained from Kastor's expresion by that point, leaving mounting horror... and no small amount of confusion. "Child, I do not say this to accuse you of dishonesty or of folly, but what you have described cannot be. It is mortals in their desperate desire to escape the pull of the River of Souls and Her Judgement beyond who fall to the abomination of undeath, not the spirits of the Outer Realms who have been judged and by that judgement been reforged."
Mina hangs her head for a moment. "I wish that I had not seen it holy one, but there it was, nightmare made flesh. Will you take this to destroy or to keep it hidden and out of the hands of men?"
"By my vows I can do no other, but I fear we may not know enough to contain its evil. Ours is a small temple, with no great catacombs to seal evils out of the Age of Darkness."
"Then what will you do with it?" you ask bluntly, the last thing you need is that thing hunting you again.
"We would send it to Almas where it might be better contained in the keeping, with couriers strong enough of will and faith to carry the burden." Judging from his expression such couriers are not so common. There's a thought... Why shouldn't you get paid for the last leg of this thing's journey now that you've taken it so far?
What do you do?
[] Offer to take the ring to Almas for a price
-[] 1000 gp
-[] 1500 gp
-[] 2000 gp
-[] Write in
[] Leave, the thing is in safe enough hands for now
[] Propose that he break the ring, here in sight of Pharasma
[] Write in
OOC: Good thing your shadow did not get spotted here of all places.
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