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So, the rest of you go into the parlor, you can see Stern and Leia Mensheng through the glass doors out into the garden. They speak for about an hour
Stern, she basically gives you the low down of her life, which, if it were given as a condensed version it would be more like this;
My father was killed in Shou Shan when I was a little girl. My mother and I fled the village, he stayed behind to fight, that was the last I saw of him, or any of my friends. We moved here because Evon offered to take in the refugees of Shoushan. I hated it. My mother used to spend all her time at the orphanage in Laketown vounteering, she felt like she owed it to Evon for all he did for us. One night the Orphanage received a huge donation. Some bandits got word of it. They came into town unarmed, dressed as worskipers on a pilgrimaged to the Shrine. The checked into an Inn in town, and the next night broke into the orphanage. My mother was there when it happened, and she was killed trying to stop them, killed over money. I felt like I barely saw her, and then she was gone for good.
I married a merchant of the Brotherhood. He was charming, the wedding was beautiful, but I barely saw him. He was killed by bandits out on the road south of here. I felt like I barely saw him too, and he was gone for good. His body was never recovered. He left me with 2 daughters and a son. I lost him 2 years ago. Like father like son, he joined the damn crazy merchants…he wanted to make his own way, impress his dead father…one day some fortune teller told him his father was still alive, so he went on some fools errand to find him, and was killed. I know my son is dead, I paid the keeper for a divination, and paid a finder to bring his body back. They said there were clues about how he died, but, I…I didn’t want to know….he died some place horrible and now he’s gone and done is done.
My eldest Daughter married and gave me two grand children who I dot over, but their father, my daughters wife…well, she married a brotherhood merchant as well. He rode out to fight Slags bastard raiders in Quarytown, and he didn’t come back. We now maintain the vigil of passing for him. I worry for my daughter and her children. I feel like Death haunts me, he shadows everything I love. I hated the gods, I hated the rites, they did nothing for me. I’ve doubted the otherside, I’ve openly cursed it…a week ago Chu noticed the sigils on the gate to our back yard were stolen…They are expensive to replace, and I don’t think they do any good anyways, it’s just another way for priests to make money, like that fortuneteller made money off my son and sent him to his death. I hate it all. Since the symbol was taken I haven’t got much sleep, so I started preying to my mother, I don’t know why, to pass the night I suppose…I stopped believing the dead really hear us a long time ago. As a girl I preyed but I just felt alone, and my life just got worse and worse….and then you show up at my door, and you say her name, you say you saw her. I don’t know what to say but I believe you. I must seek out atonement, forgiveness for my bitterness, peace from grief…can you perform an atonement on me Stern?
There’s a long pause, then a man, the housemaster (butler) opens the door, looking tired and miserable, but you look right past him at the beauty standing on the old staircase about 20ft. behind him. Her jaw drops a little as she sees you Stern, and she stares into your eyes like a deer caught in the aim of a hunter, shes’ probably 20 years at most. A green dress, a flute held in her delicate hands.
(Like this but not showing so much skin)“Meela! Get up stairs and finish with the curtains”
(Like this but all in black)The voice comes from a 3rd figure, a regal, tough looking woman in her early forties. Thin, solid, she is old but not at all frail, and has a menacing presence, like an imperious queen, only intensified by the elaborate black dress and veil she wears. The Veil covers half of her stern features.
“Meela!” She sternly shouts as she gracefully walks between the girl and the butler,out into the entry parlor, not even looking at you yet, her eyes locked on the girl as she points back upstairs. The girl backs up slowly, still looking at you stern, then seeming to remember her manners, bows slightly before shyly turning and running up the stairs in almost girlish embarrassment.
What on earth are you….the older woman is saying as she turns to face the door and sees Stern’s massive frame towering over the butler.
Her expression does not move from icy calm, tinged with annoyance, but she does raise an eyebrow, folding her arms, and regarding you Stern, as an impetuous queen might regard a failed knight.
“Please sir, state your business here at Mensheng House…” The butler manages before she interrupts him
“A little early are we not? tell me what horrid news could not wait until after breakfast…we are already a house in mourning, now you would render us a house without the morning time to itself!?…just…what is it.”
This must be Leia Mensheng.
You enter through the gates of Redtown. Redtown is the highest part of town, and so is currently lost in the same low cloud that hangs over the city. You all look meaningful at each other as you step into the fog, but this mist is damp and cool, it smells of recent rain, crisp mountain air, and the sweet, subtle incense the people of Fanlu like to burn on their front porches in the morning.
The gate into Redtown is wide open, it’s still early, people are very focused, setting up their shops, or still getting ready for the day.
It does not take long at all to reach the front door of The Mensheng Mansion. It is a fine house, but not at all huge. There’s a side yard, the one that housed the statue you slept by, and you can tell there’s a much larger piece of land fenced in out back. There are signs of wear and disrepair as well. The paint on the front door is starting to peel, one of the large front steps is sagging and half rotted, needing to be replaced, and the potted plants on either side of the door are overgrown and wild. The Front door looks something like this. PS, these pictures would have been cool to use when you guys were ethereal. Don’t ya hate it when you think of something cool after the fact?!
What do you do???He silently acknowledges each of you. His mountain sized voice rolls again…heroes are rewarded….
Fang Quiang goes to one knee in front of you and bends down, putting one huge fist upon the path and making as if concentrating. Jamba, silent and awestruck this whole time, is behind you all, like a shadow next to an equally awe struck Bren. Obada is on both knees, eyes averted, grasping his prayer beads. A few moments pass and a cloud of 5 small floating objects rise out of the ground in front of the giant’s grounded fist, rising up from some place in the depths of the stone. Each one about the size of a large marble
Mountain Stars… Fang Quiang breaths reverently, as the raw, uncut emeralds float towards you, one to Grognak, One to Grey, One to Stern, and 2 more float to grey, and you all seem to instinctively know these two are for Tealia and Caris.
Still on one knee, and still higher than the highest eve on a two story home, Fang Quiang turns to Hroth, repeating some of the word the warrior spoke to him
Forever in my service…he qoutes the warrior
Fang Quiang has not servants…you will not serve, but there is stone in your spirit…you will walk with me…stand fast for your reward Hrothgar..He raises his huge fist off the ground about 4 ft, then extends a single rocky finger downwards, touching the ground. From the point where it touches, a vein of shimmering obsidian seems to snake across the ground towards Hroth, and as it reaches him it crawls up his armor. The obsidian seems like real crystal for a moment but then becomes translucent and ghostly, sinking into the big warriors armor, as if absorbing into him, until it no longer stirs the surface. Hroth, you feel a slight burn and itching sensation beneath your armor, as if suddenly a rash were spread across your midsection. Fang Quiang smiles down at you, and nods.
Good…go now spirit warrior, in time you will feel a stirring in the mark, that is when you will return to me, and we shall meet again, but now Go,the way will not stay open much longer.
And with that, you all feel a sense of completion, as if it is indeed the best time to go.
As one you turn and, Grey at the front, begin the trek back down from Founders Watch to Fan Lu. Each step you swear it’s as if the ground beneath you feels more solid.
You have only gone a few yards before you hear from behind in the colossal voice of the Great Fan Quiang,
“Aquillion,”
At the front of the pack Grey slams suddenly to a stop, rigid muscles taut, in his pale face a look of profound shock border lining terror on his patrician features. The rest of the group has to think quickly it happens so fast, either dodge/stumbling past or stopping in confusion.Grey slowly pivots in place, and strides back through your confused midst towards Fang Quiang. Who is standing right where he was. Grey stops the length of a long spear away from the mighty spirit and bows low and long, “Yes, Great Spirit.” The Fan Quiang continues, questioningly
You have something Son of Aelihir….something familiar… the Protector of Fan Lu trails off.Fang Quiang raises one massive hand palm up. Grey’s jacket flies open, as if caught in gale force winds flapping back behind him, and Black Stone comes flying out into the open palm of the great spirit. Grey shocked, struggles visibly, mightily managing to take a step forward arm out to try to catch Blackstone but stops, registering the demeanor of the Dreaming Mountain.
Fang Quiang holds the human fist sized Black Stone up before him. In his hands it looks tiny. The colossus holds the stone gingerly between a thumb and forefinger that could grind the faceted stone to dust with ease. He inspects Blackstone, turning Black stone this way and that as he leans in to look very close, like a jeweler inspecting a tiny diamond for value, all that’s missing is a massive loop befitting of Fan Quiang. Almost absently the spirits free hand comes to rest at a spot just over his hip, caressing a specific spot on the black stripe of obsidian. With a small chunk missing just slightly bigger than Blackstone. The spirit’s “Hmmm.” of interest resonates across the mountains, reverberating from within everyone, like the crash of a distant avalanche or a fearsome roar of a lion, the bass note penetrates you all to your core.
When Fang Quiang speaks again it is with a slightly bemused voice, In this moment, the spirit seems very human in emotion…
I have always wondered what happened to this. Fang Quiang opens his palm letting Blackstone fly back to, a relaxed and relieved Grey’s waiting arms. Fang Quiang’s benevolent voice echoes softly around you all as he fades from view,leaning back and sinking down back into the mountain.
I like what you have done with it.A paler than normal Grey, stride stumbles his way back to the group clutching Blackstone protectively to his chest, eyes wide.
“Ok, let’s get out of here and back home right now.” He says shakily as he strides by.Down the path you head, with each step the mist seems to clear, color drained from the world blushes back into it. The weight of traversing the material world again a welcome strain from the endless weightless haze of the ethereal plane. Each of you holds a green gemstone in your hands, clenched in anticipation…are you really going home…is it done? Hroth has no stone to show, but a warmth in his core, a rash across his body he can’t take the time to pull his armor away and look at just now, and a beaming smile upon his face, knowing something has changed him in just the way he wished to be changed, and yet never knew. You are still high on the path, at the level of a tall roof, looking out across the grassy boulder strew hillside that rises up to meet the mountain. You walk in silence for awhile, as if you are all thinking the same thing..fearing the slightest variation from the spirits command to walk down the path might make his magic void…it’s like holding your breath at the moment of a hard own triumph, unwilling to accept it until it is surely a done deal. The cherry blossoms are in the bright bloom of early spring and morning sunlight. The unmistakable sound of a metal shovel striking rock and gritty sand travels up from far below. The work crew you passed on the road earlier is hard at work, clearing out the drainage ditch along the side of Tradeway. They’re about 150 yards away, and in a strange way, they notice you just after you notice them. They drop their tools in shock, staring up at you in recognition. Their foreman, sipping from a full sized beat up kettle of steaming tea, begins to shout at them, when his vulgar chastisement trails off to silence as he notices you too. Beaming smiles, the kind that can be seen from far off, spread on some of their faces. The foreman waves at you. Two of the work men look back to each other and their simultaneous, tandem cry echoes across the valley. As they call out the foreman looks a little embarrassed, but their enthusiasm is contagious, and the whole crew of 8 men is clapping and smiling. It takes a moment for you to make out what they’re shouting…“Punch Drunk!!!!”
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