Session 39

Two Fakes • The Spirit of the Thing • Congress of Snakes • Unhappy Serpentona • Speaking the Forked Tongue

The Players

Ditchbank, 5th level Karslish Rogue

Graciela, 5th level Realmish Cleric

Kenneth Bolero, 1st level Dwarf

Wren the Weird and Wisterial 4th level Averois Changeling

Their Hirelings

Chiavaiolo the Chartreuse, Medium

Colis, Bravo

Facuis, Bravo

Gracielous, Fighter, a fanatic dedicated to the Law

Guidus, Monopod

Magno, Bravo

Word of Graciela’s desire for religious relics from the continent spread more urgently and widely than had her church’s influence. Within a week, speculation ran so wild that Ditchbank was caught up. His reputation for putting his coin to good work in the Great Wen now obliged him to bankrupt himself buying one hundred “saints’” teeth. Given the high price paid—over a thousand gold—Ditchbank was sorry to notice Kenneth’s newly hired medium, Chiavaiolo the Chartreuse, had recently had teeth pulled, as had every bravo and pirate they interviewed.

Meanwhile, Wren found a tentative ally to her own cause, one who claimed to be a changeling, but was—in truth—only a man in stage makeup and a pair of prop donkey ears: Perinus of the Wood.

Such matters settled, on Leftember 3rd, the group rode south from the Wen under a sweltering sun. The going was otherwise easy, and after three hours a wind from off the ocean reached them.

By afternoon, they’d crossed from the isle’s manicured gardens into its hills. While scouting on horseback, Ditchbank discovered, within a narrow valley, a sharp division of lush green lawn amidst miles of dry, rolling scrubland. (Hex 2611) A hundred and fifty yards out, at the center, lay a perfectly round pool with a stone lip. An enormous red bull sat at the water's edge. Graciela’s desire was to make a meal of the beast, but Ditchbank felt sure they would rue such violence.

Only somewhat swayed, the priestess lowered her mace and approached. Through a miracle of the Law, she spoke in the beasts’ tongue. “Have you heard the good news?” she asked. But the Bull replied in the common tongue of men, in a voice that rang across the garden, though its lips were still,  “Leave an offering and you may drink from the pool.”

“…It is not for me that the offerings belong. They are for the mistress of the isle. Prospero has bound her, but she is still the spirit of the thing...” The party guessed then that the bull's mistress was the witch Sycorax, though the bull did not use that name.

Wren, most familiar with the old ways, proposed making a sacrifice of the bull itself. Graciela quickly agreed as she hated the animal. But when the bull was asked if he stood ready to give his life, he rebuked them. Instead Wren offered food and wine, and blood drawn from her own palm. The witch’s guardian approved by nodding and stamping and he invited her to drink.

Her first thought was of dear Antonio, dead by a single draught from one of the Sea King’s palace fountains. That had been an awful death. But all her concerns were pushed aside by the vision that came on: a great cavern, lit as if it were a stage, Sycorax chained there by three demons—kings and queens of Hell—who were in turn leashed by three Prosperos: Ashmedaiah leashed by Prospera the Indigo, Moloch leashed by Prospero the Yellow, and the Horned One leashed by Prospero the Orange. Listening to Wren narrate what she saw, Ditchbank felt small and sick with fear. Wren herself felt resolved. 

“Where can I find aid to free your mistress?” she asked.

“I know not for her chains are mine.”

“I will do all I can for her and for you.”

The rest of the days ride was uneventful, as was the early evening. But near midnight—their camp lit by a half moon in a clear sky—the second watch, Wren and Kenneth, heard a terrible, many tongued hissing carry over the nearest rise. It woke the horses who began to pull at their halter ropes and scream, awaking the rest of the party.

Graciela again prayed to Speak with Animals, and understood at once that these were the sounds of a serpent orgy. She called out into the dark, shaming them, and commanded them to go. In their surprise, the serpents obeyed. Only, Ditchbank, rash Ditchbank, snuck towards their dreadful sounds, to count them and mark which direction they went. He did not find a bed of snakes but five scitalis mid-congress and it took all his will to keep his wits, though the moonlight reflecting in the scales of those writhing monsters filled him with awe. It was an ill omen though he did not recognize it as such until much later.

Passing over a high hill the following morning, a little village was revealed to the company and past it, farther north, a ruined lighthouse and a villa. Two hours more riding brought the party through vineyards and orchards. They slowed their pace, uneasy to find grape vines overgrown and fruit rotting on the ground.

The first person they came upon was an old woman, equally wary.

“I come bringing the word of god,” began Graciela.

“Be gone with your cult! We have no need of it. Too much has been taken from us already, all of our men and most of our women.”

Ditchbank guessed then that they had come—by accident or thread of fate—to unhappy Sepentona, which belonged to Prospero the Red.

Still old in his heart, Kenneth flattered the woman, whose name was Benita, and charmed her. “A man’s voice is welcome to my ear.” The men had been gone over two months she told them and the only women who remained were old or young. The conversation began to draw concerned looks. Benita soon grew uneasy and wished to go inside. Her house was a common sort in Cuccagna, a single floor with two rooms. Away from others’ ears, she described a cult to a “snake demon.”

    

“They go to that ruin in the mountains. My son and husband did and I have not seen them again.”

At this, Graciela found her footing. “If I save your husband and son will you consider that the God of Law has had power over you all along?” she offered.

The old woman sighed and bent. “I will hear what you have to say, if you can return me my family.” She knew little else about the tragedy, but answered other questions about the surrounding countryside as best she was able.

On the lighthouse: “It is not so old as some of the ruins on the island but it is older than me.”

On the villa: “That belongs to Prospero the Red. He comes sometimes and lectures on the perfidy of women, but he could not save our men.” She began to mock the wizard and his harridan wife too but soon interrupted herself. “I should not speak of him so, for he is still a Prospero, and more puissant than any other man, even if he is the weakest of his brethren.”

She offered the group the use of three abandoned cottages for the night. To thank her, Ditchbank worked her fields until dusk. There were times, as he picked fruit, that he felt watched. And late in the day, he locked eyes with another serpent, a shock white snake. Discovered, it turned away, but before it could escape the minstrel commanded it to lay still, using the magic ring which let him control—briefly, by an act of great concentration—any of the beasts upon the Isle of Summer. Then he called his companions out, and Kenneth bagged it up the better to interrogate the creature. For the third time in two days, Graciela prayed to Speak with Animals and her prayers were answered. 

“Who do you spy for?” she demanded and Ditchbank compelled the snake to answer.

“My master the devil, Apollyon”

“And does another serpent lead you cult?”

“No, we are lead by a manifestation of our master. We call him the Shining One.”

“How does he bend the men of this village to his will?”

“The men? Oh no, the men were eaten. Devoured by their women and the harpies. The women he keeps in his service... And he sometimes makes them kiss.”

"How many women live with him in the ruins?”

“At least fifty.”

“Is there any secret way in?”

“There is but one entrance and it is guarded. It will be no use to you.”

At the end of their questioning—while the rest exchanged worried glances—Kenneth suddenly bit the snake's head from its body, though doing so almost poisoned him. When he was finished wretching he needed bed. They all did.