Sunday, August 27, 2017

Fun and Games (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

A sign outside a tent read "Madame Viscolla - Not only can she see your future, she can change it!" Inside the tent sat an old crone wrapped in an ornately patterned shawl. Her dark eyes burned like charcoal. She introduced herself with a croak that promised an expensive but unforgettable reading. For a fee of 1 gp, Madame Viscolla "read" an individual's cards, but always predicted a torpid outcome.

Following a reading for Aranthor, she offered to aid her ill-fated client in rejecting fate, attempting to change his foreseen destiny using her powerful magic. For 100 gp, she asked Aranthor his greatest fear. When Aranthor told her, she cast a powerful magical ward. Seoni recognized this as the equivalent of a contingency spell. After all the heroes accepted her wards and as they were leaving, she handed them a cold iron wand of shatter with 35 charges remaining. "When the time comes", she said, "use it well".

After their visit with Madame Viscolla, Wrack decided to use the heartripper blade to divine answers. The heroes spent some time in the forest around the fairgrounds to locate and sacrifice a rabbit, and they learned that the monkey they were looking for was not in the fairgrounds yet, but was on its way from the forest, and it would end up in the maze. They finished their grisly task just after sunset, when they heard screams coming from the edge of the forest. When they reached the area in question, they saw four massive chargers hitched to three wooden passenger sleds coupled together with chains. Hunched in the first sled iswas the driver, an aged, one-armed man dressed in a long threadbare wool coat, his snarling face wrapped with a dark red scarf. The driver snapped his whip and the sled lurched forward. /in addition, two frosty chiselers dragged the unconscious bodies of two fairgoers through the woods. The heroes killed one and captured the other, but not before Wrack was cursed by their brittlebones curse.

Seoni only knew the cantakerous one-armed geezer as Mr. Sathelbry. Each year, he dressed his team of chargers, hitched them to his sleighs, and for a small fee he drove fairgoers over field and dale around the fairgrounds at an almost breakneck pace. Rumors abound that the old man hoards his carnival money and saves his coppers to last him the remainder of the year.


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