A 99 word poem of a small town, and the demon who guards its chapel when the mists rise.
The town of Silverfox Mill was a quiet place for many years, but this peaceful town has begun to unravel. The arrival of the Usury Guild drained the populace of their livelihood, forcing many into poverty, alcoholism, and prostitution. Complicating this trying time the town has recently lost its most beloved citizen, the wizard Osric Skanderbag. With his absence it seems the long-dead witch Anna has been raised to murder and poison, but this may be a front for more contemporary threats.
The desert is like the sea, the sands shift ebb and flow and with them so does life. The tide is in ebb, and Xen'da'rik is dying.
"Avaricious is a special sort of hell; it's the hell we created ourselves. It is the hell we deserve." - Smythe Voss, crewman of Siren's Laugh
On route from Geli to Nekrass the characters meet a peasant boy on the road. He's wandering in the direction from which they've just come. If this seems a little bit incongruous, they may wish to ask him a few questions. He's perfectly willing to talk: he's called Lamish and he's run away because he knows he is the heir to the throne of Geli and his parents didn't believe him. How far is his home? About five weeks walk from here. How much has he eaten? Nothing. Has he drunk? Only from the filthy roadside ditches. In short, it's a wonder he is still alive. And yet he seems perfectly healthy.
Is he a thief, waiting for travellers to trick? Is he lying because there's something more sinister under all of this? Is he telling the truth? And anyway, what should the characters do? Do you take him to Geli? Do you try to find his parents? Or leave him to make his own way?