Session #3 as told by Finn

 Session #3 as told by Finn

 Read: Session #3 as told by Inez here..

Waiting for Time to Pass

 

Finn sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of his cell, back propped against the wall, hands resting on his knees. The prison was quiet, save for the distant drip of water and the occasional scurry of rats in the dark.

 

One such rat—a plump little gray thing—sat comfortably on his knee, chewing on a stolen crumb. Finn ran a calloused finger down her back, watching as she twitched her whiskers.

 

“Y’know, Rosslyn,” he murmured, voice thick with years of cheap whiskey and worse decisions, “prison’s mostly just waitin’. Waitin’ for the next meal, the next piss break, the next time they remember you’re rottin’ away in here. Now, me? I don’t mind it much. The old, we’ve already had our stories. No hurry to make new ones. But the young?” He let out a dry chuckle. “The young can’t stand it. They need things to happen. Can’t just sit and let time do what it does.”

 

His fingers drummed against his knee.

 

“Jonathan and Inez—they always needed things to happen.”

 

Rosslyn twitched her tail.

 

Finn exhaled through his nose. “Jonathan, now he was a bloody disaster wrapped up in a cleric’s robes. They don’t always hand out divine wisdom to those with the strongest faith. Sometimes they pick the ones who can take a beating and still get up smiling.” He smirked. “Jonathan could take a lot of beatings.”

 

Rosslyn’s little beady eyes stared at him, unimpressed.

 

“And Inez,” Finn continued, shaking his head, “Inez was somethin’ else. Too sharp for her own good. City girl, through and through, but with a mean streak like a noble’s bastard daughter. Thought she was all refined and proper, ‘til you turned yer back and found her pickin’ a lock or makin’ somethin’ explode. And—” Finn grinned, tapping the side of his nose, “—secretly? Hot as the Nine Hells.”

 

Rosslyn let out a bored little chitter.

 

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Rosslyn. I’m old, not dead.”

 

He let out a breath and tilted his head back against the cold stone.

 

“Anyway. We were out lookin’ for moonstones. A simple job, right? Ha. Ha. Ha.”

 

Jonathan, Inez, and Finn had set up camp in the middle of the fourth field, their tents pitched beside a standing monolith. The moon hung fat and red in the sky, an eclipse creeping across its surface.

 

Jonathan was struggling to get a fire going. Finn was up to his elbows in owlbear guts, cursing his luck. Inez had kept the owlbear chicks around and Finn would fling bits and pieces of their mother at them. The critters had little compunction about eating their mother. Something was said between Inez and Jonathan, and they quickly wandered off to inspect the monolith.

 

“Can’t say I was too bothered about spendin’ a bit of time by myself. Inez never could keep her nose outta things. Somethin’ mysterious shows up, and she’s gotta poke at it like a cat with a bug. See where it gets her and Jonno”

 

Inez pulled out her arcane focus—a fancy little prism—and tried to do a bit of magic—the monolith wasn’t impressed. Meanwhile, Jonathan, in his usual manner, had decided to tempt fate and take a stroll around the stark monolith. Of course, he tripped over a rock and smacked face-first into the dirt.

 

“I’m tellin’ ya, the man had negative survival instincts. If he wasn’t gettin’ hit by somethin’, he’d find a way to trip, fall, or otherwise make life miserable for himself.”

 

Then, the wind shifted. Singing. Soft, eerie, comin’ from the field they’d just left—the one full of spiders. Sounded like marching music, like something was coming.

 

The two city kids were fascinated and moved towards the singing. Finn scowled. “Nope.” Unconsciously putting a hand on his father’s iron medallion hanging from his neck.

 

“We’d best stay put! The Harrows….” Inez, being Inez, ignored him completely and walked off. Jonathan, excitedly, following Inez like it was some grand adventure and spider hadn’t tried to eat him.

 

Finn, cursing under his breath, went after them. But decided to walk just off the road to be able to surprise a—surprise—coming at them.

 

“Bloody city folk—no sense of danger, no survival instinct, just straight-up walkin’ toward the creepy singin’ in the middle of the night like they wanted to die.”

 

Inez and Jonathan followed the song all the way back to the stone field. The stones had started glowin’, eerie blue light flickerin’ between them. Finn, must have caught something from Jonathan, tripped over a bush, tumbled out onto the road, and landed flat on his back beneath Inez’s dress.

 

Inez raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow before pulling him up.

 

“A woman of few words, that one. Except when she was givin’ me a headache.”

 

The field they had passed through with the unassuming stones all over it, now a several stone glowing with an earie blue, milky light.

 

“Guess that old coot in the robes, that was Jonathan’s Gran’pa wasn’t so crazy after all.”

 

Inez tried to pick up one of the glowing moonstones. Didn’t budge. Finn, glancing around at the creepy field, decided speed was of the essence. He didn’t want to stick around for whatever was singing aways further back.

 

“Right,” he muttered. “If I get ye a rock, can we leave?” Inez seemed to agree without too much commitment. Using his knife, Finn pried a stone loose and handed it to her. Strangely, where it had been heavy before and Inez couldn’t lift it, now as it was light as a feather. “As we were trying to decide who was bullshittin’ who”, Jonathan walked up and started yoking about how strong Inez was. “I guess the priest wasn’t just sweet of animals”

 

“Now Rosslyn—you may wonder—why didn’t you collect the moonstones for yourself?”, said Old Finn as he tapped his nose. “A grey stone, that lights up once a month under the Moonlight. Who needs that? A coal can do that too! When you want! And you can cook on coals!” Old Finn looking smugly at the moving rat that was scratching at his shirt.

 

Then Inez, being Inez, decided one stone wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Finn, exasperated, took a bite of his smuggler’s wedge to steady his nerves, turned on his heel and went back to camp.

 

“At this point, I figured, let ‘em have their shiny rocks. I had an owlbear stew to finish. Priorities.”

 

“Now Rosslyn, I’m not certain what happened out there. But when Jonathan and Inez returned, Inez was carrying three moonstones, big smile on her face. Jonathan came back empty handed. And I kid you not; as they walked into camp, the Friggin’ monolith began to lit up, runes burning across its surface!” The ground rumbled. Then, with a deep groan, the stone slid aside, revealing a spiraling staircase leading underground.

 

Jonathan, never one to pass up a terrible idea, yelled “Adventure!” and ran towards the stairs.

 

Finn sighed so hard his soul nearly left his body. “Halflings are supposed to be the sensible ones. I think he missed that particular gene.”

 

Finn cursed and clutched his iron medallion, wincing as it grew hot against his skin—uncomfortably so.

 

Jonathan, always eager for adventure, cast Light on his dart and, ever the optimist, prepared to head down. Inez and Jonathan each took a moonstone. Inez made hers disappear down the front of her dress—like magic—and tried to hand Finn one as well. But between the glowing sigils and his burning medallion, Finn wanted no part of this. Inez simply shrugged and set the largest stone on the ground before taking the medium-sized one for herself.

 

As Jonathan and Inez descended the stairs, Finn—muttering yet another curse—stuffed the large moonstone into his backpack, unwilling to leave it behind. Then, grudgingly, he followed them down.

 

Underground Chamber

The steps were human-sized, forcing Finn to climb down carefully. They led into a round chamber with a stone table in the center, upon which sat three cups of varying sizes.

 

“One thought crept through my head; Had we wondered back into one of Aalborr’s amusement halls?”

 

Cursing himself a fool, he turned to find Jonathan eyeing the whole situation like some grand puzzle, completely missing the gravity of their predicament.

 

Each of the cups matched one of the moonstones they had taken. Jonathan placed his small stone into the smallest cup. Inez hesitated, refusing to part with hers. Finn, with a long-suffering sigh, swung his backpack off his shoulder and pulled out the large stone. He set it snugly into the largest cup. Jonathan and Inez frowned at him.

 

Finn crossed his arms. “What? I thought we might bloody need it.”

 

Finally, Inez relented, placing her stone in the middle cup. The room lit up, and the staircase spun away, and the monolith above slammed shut, sealing them in.

Glancing around; one end of the room had a lever on the floor, opposite the lever on the other end of the room was a door. Jonathan, naturally, tried to open the door and immediately failed. Inez, not understanding the concept of how doors worked, ripped the doorknob off.

 

Finn stared. “Well, guess none of us know how doors work.”

 

The priest of good cheer—Jonathan—walked to the other end, laughing, immediately reached for the lever without a thought or care. Finn grabbed his arm. “Hold on.”

 

“Y’know, because self-preservation.”

 

After a thorough check for traps, Finn, satisfied there was no immediate danger, let Jonathan pull the lever.

 

Nothing.

 

Inez, ever impatient, yanked it back—sending the entire room spinning like a damn carnival ride.

 

Finn, cursing and slightly panicked, turned back to the door. Forget the lever; he could do this the right way. His lockpicks made quick work of it, and the door swung open with no resistance.

 

Beyond was only darkness.

 

Finn called for Jonathan to use his Light-spelled dart to light the way. The dart illuminated little—just a single flagstone. Annoyed, Finn grabbed the dart and tossed it further in. Still, it revealed barely anything before the light flickered out.

 

Inez, fortunately, had the sense to bring torches. Lighting one revealed a corridor leading to another stairway—this time going up.

 

They decided to take the moonstones with them. Strangely, their weights had shifted again. Jonathan found himself unable to lift the smallest one, but Inez, for some reason, could. She looked relieved to tuck it back into her cleavage.

 

“She had this way of keeping things in that dress of hers. I tell you, I saw her pull out an entire focus, two vials of ink, and a bloody notebook one time. Like a wizard’s personal vault, right there on her person. Fascinating woman.”

 

As Inez removed the stone from the cup, the spiral staircase descended once more. “I thought we could get out, but I should have known better.”

 

The Cube

Finn, wanting to get out of this mess, started up the stairs. But Jonathan, ever obsessed with treasure, insisted they explore further.

 

“Treasure?” Finn paused mid-step. Damn it. With a resigned sigh, he turned back, took a bite of cheese, and motioned for Jonathan to lead the way. “If he wanted adventure, he could walk in the front for once.”

 

That’s when they heard it.

 

Then, from the dark corridor beyond, came a wet, flopping sound.

 

Finn’s gut dropped. “Jonathan. Shut the door.”

 

Jonathan froze. And started to call for Inez.

 

“The door, Jonathan!”

 

Too late.

 

A translucent mass lurched out of the darkness—a gelatinous cube. It surged forward, engulfing Jonathan before he could react.

 

Inez, still in control of her senses, yanked the lever. The room spun, and the door slammed shut—and slicing the cube apart.

 

Unfortunately, that meant acid—which Jonathan took directly to the face. The poor bastard collapsed, unconscious. Inez started crying. Finn, cursing his entire existence, grabbed his water flask and started washing away the acid.

 

“A man gets himself melted, and what does she do? Cry. Bloody useless.”

 

“Tear cloth for bandages!” he ordered.

 

Inez, apparently still concerned with decorum, cut strips from Jonathan’s cloak rather than her own dress. “Typical!” Between the two of them, they managed to stabilize Jonathan. But lifting him was another problem. Finn, despite his halfling strength, found him far too dense. Inez, ever resourceful, pulled out an arcane focus and cast Unseen Servant—a ghostly force lifting Jonathan for her.

 

With their unconscious companion floating along, the three—now four—climbed the stairs.

Through sheer stubbornness, they got Jonathan back to camp.

 

A Different World

Emerging at the top, they expected to find their camp. Instead, they stood in the ruins of an unfamiliar place, in a field surrounded by trees. Above them, the moon shone silver—not red.

 

Finn’s medallion still burned against his chest, and now his knives, too, seared his skin. He quickly tucked them away in his satchel. “Let’s find cover,” he said, eyeing the treeline.

 

Jonathan began to stir, prompting Finn to shove a piece of cheese into his mouth. The halfling groaned back to life. Inez, relieved, kissed Jonathan’s forehead. Finn felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy.

 

Then Inez, thinking of her owlbear cubs, mimicked an owlbear’s call. A deep, guttural growl answered. Another call followed.

 

The three exchanged looks.

 

Finn paled. “Back inside. Now.”

 

Finn smirked at Rosslyn. “And that, Rosslyn, is why patience is a virtue.” Rosslyn twitched her whiskers. Finn chuckled, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

Session #3 as told by Inez

Session #3 as told by Inez

Read: Session #3 as told by Finn here

Well dear diary,

We found some moonstones, I have a moonstone, but despite all that, our errand has not been successful, far from it! Let me tell you!

As told before we had made camp at the last field and the halflings had fabricated a campfire from findings at the forest edge. The long awaited moon rose on the horizon, blood red, as if Selûne was fleeing, leaving this night to Shar. That must explain the smiling expression of the Idol that I could see hanging inside my tent. Quick as possible I closed the tent door, as a feeling of edginess crept upon me. Next I  made sure the cubs were alright, finding them like myself snappy, in their case both figuratively and literally, gnawing at my fingers! Was it me, was it the influence of the crimson moon, but the whole atmosphere had turned into an ominous chill. Before walking over to the halflings, I tried to lift my mood: We were going to hunt for moonstone! I would get myself some real magical ingredients to work with!

My companions, however, seemed not that keen on a search for stones of any type. Seated next to the campfire, Finn made remarks in the line of ‘having seen enough adventure for a day’ and ‘these two will cost me my head’... Meanwhile he was deboning the mother Owl Bear, throwing some pieces every now and then to her offspring, who had no problem swallowing these. I could see that this was upsetting Jonathan, so I took the priest with me to the center of the field, where a huge dark stone was standing on its own. The black monolith stood against the orange sky, void of any markings that could reveal its purpose. Against better judgment I attempted to cast the one spell that, well at least at home, I had more or less mastered, trying to find any clues on the stone. Using the little shard of crystal I scanned the surface, finding a pattern of runes that made no sense to me at all. With Jonathan interfering, asking what I was doing, I gave up in frustration, following him on the path upwards to the moonstone fields.

As we walked on, it seemed like in the distance, marching songs were sung or played from the other side of the hummock. It asked the halflings if they too heard this strange chanting. Both confirmed, and Finn warned us to be careful, like we were toddlers making our first steps! Both Jonathan, who was by now almost on top of the ridge and I, both ignored our  perpetually displeased associate. Jonathan now called out, reporting that he saw a field filled with Goodberry Bites, some glowing up in the dark. Those halflings relate anything to food or candy, dear diary!

As I dashed up to look for myself, I was almost frightened to death as from the bushes a figure jumped me, crashing right in front of my feet. As I looked down, I saw that it was Finn, who apparently had wanted to keep an eye on us (or just me, dear diary?) in secret. The great rogue he is, he failed miserably and now lay in front of me, staring under my skirt. As he looked even more embarrassed than me, I left it with a remark: “Dear halfling, I thought you had some more style! Though, I suppose a little peek never hurt anyone... except maybe your pride?" I even helped him up, offering my hand, which I regretted immediately as his hands were still bloodied by the boning of the cadaver. Cussing under my breath I cleaned my hands with the help of some grass.

Finn and I were now following Jonathan into the third field, where some of the stones (no candy in sight!) were glowing softly in a blue hue. Once more ignoring Finn, who urged us to stay on the path, I walked towards the nearest gleaming gem. As I tried to pick it up, I found it stuck to the ground, no matter how hard I tried. Frustratingly I had to ask close-at-hand Finn to help me, which he hesitantly did, after I promised him that with one stone I would be content and would follow him back to the camp. Of course, with just a few strokes of his knife he cut it loose, and handed it to me with both hands: “Here it is, be careful princess, don’t know why you needed me, it came off like the cork of a bottle of ‘Second Breakfast Brew’! However, it’s quite heavy, so handle it carefully!”. As I took it up, I had no problem lifting it with one hand, holding it in my palm to examine it. Finn and I stared at each other irked, probing if the other was serious or was trying to make one look like a fool. This contest was broken up by Jonathans joking at the expense of Fynn that a gnomish girl like me was stronger than the halfling rogue! 

Finn's irritation grew even more as his guidance and alerts were further ignored by Jonathan, who was walking further towards the next fields, and me, moving greedily towards the next glowing stone. Gesturing and biting his necklace, walking back and forth, Finn was having a bad day. I, on the other hand, was getting in a much better mood, as magical stones were lying around me for the picking! Sweet diary, I know I had promised, but those stones, they were beautiful and radiating magic, I just had to have them! The second moonstone was pluckable without the help of Finn or anyone, just a small one, but still a beauty! Then I went for the third, the biggest one, with my left hand; it turned out to be an awkward shaped one, appearing to be hollow, but glowing all the same. Showing them to Finn, he lost his last interest as he could not determine the value of these strange gemstones and decided to retreat to our camp. ‘A halfling on an empty stomach is harder to appease than a gnome woman.’ my father used to say, often followed by ‘with the exception of a certain young gnomish lady’ (Haha, father).

With Finn away, Jonathan came over, drawing my attention to our surroundings, as the strange music had stopped, and the other moonstones had stopped glowing. The priest asked me then if he could look at one of the stones, extending his hand. Dear diary, I’m ashamed to admit, but it took me a force of will to hand over the smallest stone to Jonathan. Jonathan, the most trustworthy soul I’ve ever met! Still, the stones felt that precious to me! After looking at it, he just smiled and gave it back, without saying a word (making me feeling even more guilty). Staring at the stones in my hands, I followed him back to the camp.

Arriving at our tents, we found Finn staring at the monolith. The black stone had started to vibrate lightly and the runes that I had managed to read with my spell, were now lighting up like a tinker's spark on a new gear. Both the halflings turned on me when I told them that I had seen those runes earlier, and maybe (Just maybe, diary) they had a point in that I should have shared that knowledge, but I was not having it. Luckily (?), the black statue started to drone like a dwarven water pump, preventing us from having a serious row. A scraping sound signalled the slow shifting of the stone away from us, exposing an opening where it once stood. It then ended its move with dry cracking noises, like skeleton hands were obstructing further .

All of the night Finn had not been his jovial self, biting his medaillon, and now he seemed at the verge of panic. Jonathan on the other hand looked overjoyed, using his priestly magic to light up a dart (The natural, easy looking way of him performing magic making me jealous again), revealing a staircase leading down into the hole. He gestured to me to follow him down, but to do so, I had to clear my hands of moonstones. The smallest one was easily secured, placing it within my cleavage, the second one I handed once more to Jonathan, who stored it in his backpack. The third and biggest one I just placed on the ground, hopefully I would be able to pick it up later. Satisfied with myself that I was able to part with the gems, I nodded to Jonathan. “Adventure!” he screamed, amazing me and shocking Finn even further, then he descended the stairs.

All in all we had to negotiate thirty to forty stair steps, human sized, before we reached the floor of a room. A stone table could be seen by the light of the dart, with three ceramic bowls placed on it (Once more a test devised by Aalborr?) was the only furniture. Despite being underground, the room did not smell moist or dampen. Rather it smelled and felt unnatural, like a perfume bottled by a witch. As Finn entered the room, stepping from the last stair, the staircase spun up and higher up, we could hear the monolith returning to its original position, sealing us in. Before I had the time to panic or despair, Jonathan was once more yelling, claiming he had found the solution to the puzzle. He placed the moonstone I had given him into the mid sized bowl, gave me a friendly punch, and suggested ‘Inez, you have to place the small one in the tiny bowl.’ Reluctantly I moved the gem from my dress, then replied: “But the third stone, I left it in the field upstairs”. Upon which Finn sighed, revealing the third stone, like he was the greatest hero instead of a savvy larcener, then placing it haughtily in the biggest bowl. With both men now staring at me, as if it was me who was causing problems, I unwillingly placed the last stone into the indicated bowl.

As the room now filled with light, like the walls were radiating it by themselves, the staircase started spinning and retracted upwards. Above us we could here the monolith move back, locking us in! A stream of curses was produced by Finn, luckily he got no magical or priestly powers, otherwise this gnome would have been transformed to an Owl Bear chick, dear diary. Thanks to Jonathan taking the brunt of the reproaches and reassuring Finn that it would turn out alright, he came back to his senses. 

The artificial light revealed a fully round interior. Besides the table there was a door on one side and a lever attached to some mechanism on the opposing side. As I was standing closest, I walked over to the door, but failed to open it. Even worse, I broke off the handle, driving Finn to once more burning his fingers on his boiling amulet. Jonathan joked about the lack of strength of his halfling companion compared to his gnomish girly one. Which both Finn and I did not take as a compliment.

Continuing in his all too cheerful mode, Jonathan walked over to the lever. Finn blocked him before he could manipulate it. The rogue insisted on checking for traps before the lever was pulled. And suddenly nothing happened. Both men were still staring at the lever as I wandered over, and though it was evidently not a gnomish construct, I reckoned pulling it back could possibly do the trick. And sure it did, the full room started spinning like the Cogwheel Carousel at the Nook carnival. When it stopped all three of us were certain of one thing: we had no clue how far we had diverted...

It was all too much for Finn, who while cursing gods, the city of Nook, his choice of friends, and the ignorance of a certain gnomish lady (No points for him there, dear diary) rushed over to the door and started to work on the lock. Incredibly, within the nick of time a ‘click’ could be heard and the door opened. Nevertheless it just revealed a pitch-dark passage. Jonathan handed him the dart, but as the magic was waning, it did not uncover much as Finn threw it into the walkway. As I revealed the torches I brought with me, Finn finally acknowledged that I brought some value to this party (Well, well). Using one to illuminate the corridor, we found that it led to another stairway, going up. We decided to try our luck with that one.

But I could not leave without at least one moonstone. Strangely, Jonathan failed to pick up the smallest one, where I could without difficulty, placing it back where it belonged, dear diary. Curiously, as the stone left the bowl, the original staircase descended as called for. 

One halfling, Finn, wanted to leave immediately, using the original one, while the other, Jonathan, was insisting on exploring the second stairs. The promise of treasure managed to convince Finn, but not with much enthusiasm. “You lead,” he insisted, pointing Jonathan towards the door. The halfling priest looked excited and enthusiastically got out in front. Finn followed him, obviously reluctantly, but still gestured to me to form the rearguard. The moment Joanathan crossed the doorstep, the sound of drizzling bounces could be heard. “Close the door, close the door now!” Finn was yelling, as a gelatinous cube attacked Jonathan. From somewhere an idea sprung up in my mind, and I raced for the lever, giving it the hardest pull I could muster. The room started spinning again, forcibly slamming the door shut and crushing the cube before it could enter the room. 

For a moment I felt heroic, as I had saved the day with my action. Then I saw Jonathan, who had been splattered with the acid remains of the cube! He laid on the floor, deader than a broken cogwheel. My stomach turned at the sight! Kneeling near him, I started crying, feeling responsible for his death. If only I had not pulled that lever, or even better, had aligned with Finn and had returned to our camp! Even though I had a moonstone already, why did I want to go exploring this hallway? Little lady Wishwinder, my mother would have said! And this was a real dungeon, not just a racing track set out underneath the city’s tavern! And now this poor halfing was lying there, like a broken Cogsorrow, just because I had lured him to join me...”

Then I was pushed out of it by Finn, shaking me forcefully: “Come on, we need to help him! Let me clean his wounds, while you search for bandages”. Together we started working, Finn using water to remove cuby acid, I using a dagger to cut bandages out of Jonathan’s cloak. (I know, I know, sweet diary, could have cut those of my dress, but this is a ‘The Upper Gear’ dress. And that cloak would not miss a piece, where this dress would have ruined. Case closed.) 

We decided on trying to get him and us out, using the stairs. But even a not too stout halfling as Jonathan is quite a load. Desperately I decided to cast a spell to help us, and once more I amazed myself, as I not only succeeded in evoking a servant, but also was able to sustain the spell for the whole ascend! From the bottom of the stairs, with each step, I was mumbling prayers to Azuth: “Please help me help my friend, ..”, concentrating on my task to control the magic energy and the floating body of Jonathan, while climbing up. Eventually we reached the top, and with my last breath and magical strength I settled Jonathan on the stone floor. The unconscious halfling was still breathing and I muttered a prayer of thanks. All I could think of was how I was liable for his condition, regretting all the stupid things I had done the last couple of days. Sweet diary, I almost prayed to Helm to take me back to my parents in Nook!

Till then I had been completely oblivious of my surroundings, but Finn poking and shouting at me made me aware that, well, that we were not where we were supposed to be! A big yellow moon shone its light at the ruins of an unfamiliar building.You’re right, dear diary, never before I left my hometown, so practically any building would look unfamiliar to me. What I meant was that we had never seen this ruin before!  Looking around past the crumbled walls there was a field, bordered by trees. No sign of the monolith or our camp! Finn was walking round us like a sentry, fiddling with his medaillon, then his knives, claiming these were boiling hot, then cussing and cursing, all of a sudden stating loudly: “Let’s find cover!”. Kneeling down next to the priest and me, he place a piece of his terrible reeking cheese under Jonathan's nose. Evidently inventing cheese magic, as the knocked out halfling bestirred and even ate the piece of cheese! Overcome with joy I kissed Jonathan on the forehead as he opened his eyes. Oh, dear diary, I could have kissed both men, and more, but Finn’s stern look made me stop (or was he just jealous)!

Apologetic I stood up and tried to make sense of our situation. A great idea came to my mind: I could call on the Owl Bear cubs! The past day I had trained them more or less successfully to gather at my whistle. Hence, I blew on my fingers, producing a harsh shrill sound as loud as I could. All too successful, as it was answered, but not by the cubs. A deep growling reaction came from out of the woods, followed by the sound of wings sweeping. “Back inside. Now!” Finn pushed us back towards the stairway down. “Can you walk?” I asked Jonathan, “Will manage, I think” came his reply. I let him and Finn pass, Finn taking the lead downwards, once more carrying the torch. Following them, I closed the hatch, hopefully preventing any the incoming Owl Bear of following us.

And that is how we ended up back in the round room, dear diary. Hopefully we’ll find us a way back to our camp and the cubs. For now, we’re stuck...

Prequel: "The Harrows", a ghost story by Finn Slynt

 Old Finn’s Story to Roslynn: “The Harrows”

The prison was quiet except for the occasional dripping of water and the shuffling of guards outside. Finn sat on the cold stone floor, arms folded, back against the bars. The dim torchlight flickered, casting restless shadows over his face. He sighed, rubbing a calloused thumb over his knuckles before glancing at Roslynn.

“You ever hear about the Harrows?” he asked, voice low, as if someone else might be listening. “They say they whisper to you from the dark, call your name just quiet enough that you think it’s in your own head.” He smirked, but there was something wary in his expression, like a man who still checked under his bed after all these years.

He pulled a small pendant from under his collar, the worn metal glinting in the low light. He turned it over between his fingers, then tucked it away.

“Back when I was just a runt in the Shambles, my father Hessan disappeared.” He let that hang in the air for a moment, watching Roslynn’s reaction. “No one knew what happened to him. Some said he ran off with a fortune in stolen gold, left us behind like smoke in the wind. Others figured he crossed the wrong folk and got himself dumped in the harbor with his pockets full of rocks.”

Finn tapped his fingers against the floor. “But the neighbors, the old ones - they swore it was the Harrows. Said the tunnels beneath Nook were cursed, that something down there didn’t like people poking around. They whispered about smugglers and beggars who’d wandered too deep and never come back. Some of them kept iron under their pillows, others left salt by their doors.” 

“I was stubborn back then. Everyone was talkin’ about my father, and none of them knew. So, I decided I’d go down there myself. Find out what happened.” 

Old Finn leaned his head back against the prison bars, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. "See, when you grow up in the Shambles, you learn quick - there's what's true, and then there's what's useful to believe. And when you're ten years old, scared outta your wits but too stubborn to admit it, you take every bit of useful you can get."

He reached into his shirt again, fingers brushing the iron amulet at his chest. "If the old folk swore by cold iron and salt to keep the Harrows at bay, you need to pay attention. Now, I didn't know what I'd find down there in the tunnels, but I knew I wasn't about to face it empty-handed."

He gave Roslynn a pointed look. "So I took my father's iron, because iron holds the line. And I nicked a packet of salt from my ma's kitchen, because if the Harrows came whispering, I wanted something to throw in their damned faces."

Found my way into the smuggler tunnels near the riverside. Now, I’d played around those caves before, but we were never allowed to go in too deep. It got cold the further in I went, and the air started to feel thick, like I was breathing in something that didn’t want me there.”

He glanced at Roslynn, raising an eyebrow. “Then I heard them.”

A long pause.

“They don’t call to you like a man would. It’s more like a breath at the back of your neck, like someone whispering just out of earshot. Soft, scraping sounds on stone. I should’ve turned back, but I was my father’s son, wasn’t I?”

His smirk returned, but it was a ghost of itself.

“Then the damn screamer mushrooms started howling. Near jumped out of my skin.” He chuckled. “I bolted straight into a cavern, nearly dropped my torch. And that’s when I saw it.”

Finn tapped his temple. “Now, I know what I saw. Folk can say what they want, but it wasn’t a man. It was something else. Bigger than me by a mile, hunched, it appeared to be stitched together like someone had built it out of spare parts. Patches of fur, scaled skin, hands too long for its body, too many teeth in its mouth. And the smell - like wet stone and old blood.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “It wasn’t some restless spirit, but I’ll tell you, Ros, that didn’t make me feel any better about it.”

She didn’t interrupt. She was listening now, really listening. Her beady eyes watching Finn with intent.

Finn grinned. “So, there I was, a skinny little rat with nothing but a torch and an iron trinket against a monster in the dark. But I knew one thing - monsters are greedy.” He tilted his head. “I pulled out my Pa’s amulet and made sure it caught the light of the torch. The thing took one look at me, then at my neck.” He mimed a grasping motion. “It wanted my amulet. I knew if it got close enough, I’d never be fast enough to keep it.”

“So, I told it; I have more." And I pulled out my ma’s packet of salt. "Let me show you the good stuff." 

And as I pulled open the packet, as the thing leaned in, I threw the salt into its eyes and made a break for it.

Finn ran, heart hammering against his ribs. The tunnels twisted around him, unfamiliar in the flickering torchlight. Behind him, the mongrelman followed, its patchwork limbs scuttling over the rock with unnatural speed.

He clutched his father’s iron amulet as he ducked into a narrow passage. He had to think.

Then an idea sparked. As he sprinted forward, Finn ripped a copper button from his coat, rolling it between his fingers. If he did it just right. The passage suddenly widened into a low cavern, and Finn saw his chance. He faked a stumble, twisting his body as if he had just yanked the amulet from his neck and thrown it. The button flew through the air, spinning, gleaming - The mongrelman lunged.

Its clawed fingers snatched the button midair, triumph flashing in its sunken eyes. 

And then - a sickly pop.

The air surrounding the creature filled with a thick, choking cloud, and then - nothing. Silence. Like the whole world just stopped breathing.” He let that sit for a moment. “There he was - frozen, mid-step. Eyes wide, body locked up tight, like someone had pulled the strings from a puppet. A statue in a field of mushrooms”

Finn crouched, watching in stunned silence. He hadn’t done that. He hadn’t even touched it. Something shifted in the cavern beyond. A flicker of movement. Shuffling shadows. A presence just beyond the torchlight. 

Finn was certain he heard the Harrows start to whispers again.

He didn’t wait to see what it was. He ran back the way he had come. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw shadows surround the paralyzed creature.

Old Finn went quiet, lost in thought - his eyes focused on something far, far away. Then he snapped back, focused his eyes on Roslynn intently, tapped the side of his head.

“But I tell you, Ros - I still heard breathing. Even when I was back in the Shambles, even when I was safe in my bed. I heard breathing in the dark.” He glanced at her sideways, waiting. Then he grinned, nudging her with his finger. “Now, don’t go losing sleep over it, girl. The Harrows take their due, one way or another.”

He leaned his head back against the bars, closing his eyes.

“And that, Roslynn, is why you always carry iron.”