Haazheel laughs, perhaps a strange sound in these precincts. "What you said reminds me of two lines I heard once, part of a speech in a play:

The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones....

If it's permitted to answer: Do the skeletons wear out, or does their work benefit their souls?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 02:14, Fri 07 June 2019.

Volsh nodded at the priestess, "I'll send a runner if I and others aren't coming either way." He hestitated a bit as if what came next wasn't natural to him, but he added, "thanks," before she turned away.

Then he turned and followed the acolyte out and listened to him talk about skeletons. He shrugged, "well I hope you don't get to use my bones someday, but I can't promise that. Do you do anything else with them to serve the city or do they just tend your gardens?"

---

Once they were back on the road to Lyalee Volsh voiced a question that had just occured to him. "If we escort this lady, do we have to do it as a Guild job? Or can we do personal work without telling the guild? I'm no good with rules... especially ones you have to read to know."

Sister Lar nods at Haazheel.  "The skeletons wear out eventually, and then their bones are interred with ceremony in our cemetery.  The souls of the living are not connected with their bones, but it is a way for their forms to pay back a modicum of the damage they caused in life."



"Oh yes, the skeletons often serve in cleaning out the sewers or scraping barnacles off of ships and piers. They do not often do tasks on the surface as many people misunderstand their purpose. Those who are tending the gardens are often those who are about to wear out and are near the end of their service," she explains.

[Thank you.]

Haazheel nods his understanding. "Thank you. Meaning no disrespect; but, if any of those who die from their evil express their acceptance of their skeletons dong useful service, I pray that this may ease their souls' lot."

-------------------------------------------


"I think it's reasonable that the Guild be notified that we are undertaking a service for the priestess in return for a service... no details needed except the services are not evil.

Volsh, pardon me for asking, but you've not been taught to read? If not, and you care to learn, I can start instructing you, starting with your name."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:54, Fri 07 June 2019.

"That is our hope as well, but the Stern Lady strives to balance things, always," Sister Lar says.

Haazheel thinks, but does not say, If ever I go into business, maybe I should try to hire her to keep the books.

Volsh nodded, "probably a good idea, rules or not. Don't want to get in trouble." He smiled and laughed but shook his head, "nope and it's no bother. In our tribe, only the shaman a few others were taught. Elders, people who would go trade with settled folk, that kind. I was a man grown, but not any of those when the tribe was wiped out, so no need to teach me. Then... well they're all gone now, and I've just made my way best I can. Luckily the guild's pretty honest and all or I'd probably have been taken advantage of a lot. My name I can read and write, I learned that when I joined the Guild. To sign stuff."

He seemed pretty pleased with his last statement. "Never really saw a need though." He turned to Haazheel with a look of genuine confusion on his face, "What good would it do me? Other than reading rules and such I mean?"

"Then you can learn it all. And you ask a fair question. Contracts, messages, shop names, things like that. More than that, knowing how to read and write gives you a sense of confidence and power unlike anything else."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:30, Sat 08 June 2019.

Volsh laughed a bit, "not sure confidence is something I lack Haazheel. Most shops have pictures that tell me well enough what their name is, but sure. If you're looking to teach then I'll spend some time learning from you. Couldn't hurt to have another tool in my pack right? Plus no one's gotta know I can read. Secret weapon and all that..."

As they rode along back to Lyalee and after the sun had set, Volsh mentioned with some surprise in the gloom, "stars and moon are bright tonight. It's almost as bright as daylight out still... wonder if that's just something the Port has going for it."

OOC: GM it's taking us a full day to get out there and back, but the other thread seems like it's still not too long after Volsh and Haazheel set out for the Jasdian temple? Just let us know when we can get back into that thread.

An excellent point, Volsh! Let's start with "s" and "n". By the way, letters come in different forms, but we won't worry about that now. Your "son" starts with "s", the fist sound in "snake" and "sword". It kind o has a snake shape, thus: Haazheel holds up his arm with elbow and wrist bent. It looks like this bus with curves instead of sharpness...like this.... Haazheel traces the letter in the air.

Once Volsh has the"s" down, Haazheel proceeds to the "n" and then on to the "u", using the sun. He shows with a hand how the letters are shaped. And so it goes at Volsh's pace.

Volsh may notice that Haazheel is a happy as Volsh has ever seen him.

As the wizard and barbarian head back to Port Lyalee, Haazheel enthusiastically explaining writing and reading through gesture, they notice something quite curious about halfway back: a small sign pointing off the path indicating "The Lying Caterpillar Tavern".  What is particularly curious is twofold - 1. That sign was not there on your trip to the Ruby Conclave, and 2. There is a brightly-colored parrot sitting on it, staring right at the both of you.

Volsh screwed up his eyes at the sign, "was that there on the way out to the Ruby place? I don't remember seeing it... but my head hurts from all the letters you keep talking about. I can't keep them straight anymore. Want to stop for a drink Haazheel?"

Maybe it's time for a break. Learning to read is hard work.But first.... Haazheel goes through what the sign reads by letters letter combinations, syllables, and words..all this prefaced by saying Volsh, don't try to memorize just relax, listen and look.l it take repetition, but there's no hurry. After going through this once, Haazheel is ready to proceed.

Heading down the path, you spy a few more colorful parrots in the trees who occasionally call out a raucous screech.  The path is close, and the greenery is closer, but after a few moments you come out into a clearing that is swarming with butterflies and caterpillars.  The trees and bushes, clearly planted by someone, teem with green ones, yellow ones, fuzzy ones, even ones that look like long, mobile jewels that munch on the leaves.  Above them, the bushes and trees are flowering, providing food for the hundreds of colorful butterflies, some with wingspans nearly two feet across, others barely bigger than a thumbnail.  There are, curiously, no parrots or birds of any kind here.

Beyond the butterfly/caterpillar garden is a small rope bridge that stretches up to a series of buildings that are built into the trees perhaps a dozen feet off the ground.  It reminds you somewhat of Greensward, the abandoned elven village you saw during the caravan trip down here.  But where Greensward had been small dwellings high in the trees with an air of melancholy and despair, these are large ones, cheerfully carved and painted with butterfly patterns, with open windows, a bit of smoke coming from a chimney, and the pleasant smell of baking cake permeating the air.

In a moment a woman appears in the doorway.  Petite and with curly red hair, she seems to be a half-elf with huge green eyes and a sweet smile on her face.  She wears a simple skirt and blouse with a blue apron over it all, and there are butterflies, live ones, slowly fluttering their wings in her hair.  She looks over at you, wiping her hands on a towel, and smiles.

"Well now Eagle... this place seems like your kind of place. Don't eat any of the butterflies though, not sure the lady would like that. Aannd some of them look like they can bite back." Volsh said to his horse as he looked around for a place to tie the huge warhorse off.

He whispered to Haazheel, "err, I guess be on the lookout? The sign did call this place the 'lying caterpiller' you said. That might mean this one's a liar, or... I don't know. Lots of butterflies around though."

Presuming Volsh can find a secure and safe place to tie Eagle, he will dismount. He takes his saddlebags and then secures his weapons on him while holding Widowmaker in his right hand. He nods and returns the woman's smile with a raised left, "Hi! Just looking for a quick rest on our way to Lyalee."

Haazheel looks around with seeming delight. He bows to the woman. After Volsh speaks, he asks Are there any rules or regulations travelers be made aware of?

Volsh can find a railing he can tie Eagle to with a moment's searching, and though she looks longingly at the butterflies for a moment, instead leans down to crop at the grass.  The woman at the door smiles at him as he greets her.

"Welcome to the Lying Butterfly!  I'm Dulinda.  Are you looking for a refreshing ale, chilled juice, some nice cool tea, or perhaps some bread and jam?  I made the bread and jam myself," she says, her voice high and oddly childlike.



"Well, don't hurt the butterflies, and be polite.  And pay your bill!  No innkeeper could want more, right?" she says with a laugh, and beckons you both inside. 

Inside, the inn is bright and colorful, with many colors of wood on the walls, lovingly polished and cunningly fitted together in a mosaic.  The chairs and tables are the same, as is the small bar on the far side of the room.  There is no fireplace, but there is a softly-glowing pile of crystals in a niche in the wall.  The windows look out over the butterfly garden, and a stairway on one side of the room seems to lead to some chambers higher up the tree.

Dulinda goes behind the bar and begins to set out mugs, glancing at you to see what you would like.  "So, there's a big change going on in your life, isn't there?" she asks matter-of-factly.

Haazheel looks around. Speaking of change, Beautiful area and place here...and, by the way, you mentioned paying the bill. What items do you offer, and what if the charge for each?

Volsh looked down at his chest and arms when she mentioned a big change. He held his arms out to look at his hands then thought for a moment. "Don't feel like a change is happening. Thought they were supposed to hurt, and not come for a couple of weeks yet still. Right Haazheel?"

He shrugged and pulled a gold coin out. "Ale for me, as many as that'll buy me. And bread. No jam though never liked the stuff. Too sweet. Have any fruit?"

Haazheel lays a hand on Volsh's shoulder while speaking. Here, maybe never. But we have comrades elsewhere.

"Oh!  I have chilled juice or tea for two silver, or ale or mead for three.  Fruit for one silver, bread for five copper, bread and jam for eight copper," Dulinda says, her butterflies fluttering to reflect her cheerful attitude.



She quickly brings out fresh, still-warm bread and pulls a mug of light ale for Volsh.  "Oh yes, I have peaches, plums, nectarines, raspberries, mangos, and something different," she says, and brings out a peculiar fruit perhaps the size of her fist.  It's egg-shaped and red, but parts of its skin seem to be peeling away green, almost looking like dragon scales.  She deftly cuts it open with a knife, revealing its flesh to be pure white and speckled with tiny black seeds.  The scent is slightly sweet. "Dragonfruit!  It doesn't have a strong flavor, but it looks marvelous and the seeds are nice to crunch.  I can make a fruit salad, if you want a little of everything."

As she starts to cut up other fruits, she adds casually to Volsh.  "It is good you're not afraid of change; being afraid won't help you, but being aware and open to it will help you, either way you choose.  The caterpillar isn't afraid of change, even though it must go through a little death to become a butterfly."

Volsh nodded as she mentioned many fruits, some of which he'd never had or heard of before. "Sure, some of all of them, that dragonfruit looks weird, I'll have some of it too!" He reached out and first ook a drink of ale before tearing off a chunk of bread. "It wasn't a hard day today, don't need a hard meal. This'll be good. Though... you don't have any meat, do you? That'd go down good as well."

He laughed when the woman mentioned caterpillars and butterflies, then clapped Haazheel on the back. "Wouldn't that be something? Someone popping butterfly wings out their backs?"

Then he took on a more somber look and tone, "too much change so far in my life to fear it...gotta embrace it or it'll tear you apart when you resist it. Go with the seasons was always my people's way." Volsh turned his eyes on the woman Dulinda as he chewed some bread, some new discernment in his eyes. "You talk like you know what change and choices I'm facing... that's curious huh Haazheel?"

Haazheel takes nothing at the moment. He ponders. People having wings; it'd take more than wings to fly...need the build and the muscles.

Yes, curious. Dulinda, I think that maybe any information you care to share will be more filling than drink or food. I'm just as you see me; but Volsh, Volsh the brave and good may be one of whom tales are told.

The ale is quite refreshing, the bread hot from the oven, soft inside with a nice crunchy crust studded with seeds.  The fruits all taste good and ripe.  "Alas, I have no meat.  I am not much of a hunter, you see."



"It would be something to see!  I know a few people who are the children of a human parent and one of the fey, and some of them do have butterfly wings!" Dulinda says with a laugh.



"That is a brave choice to embrace the change. If you choose nature, as your people do, you won't be surprised by the change."



"I do know much about change.  You could say that it calls me to witness it.  Everyone has a purpose, and this is mine," she says demurely, pausing to pour herself a small mug of what looks like purple juice of some sort.



She nods in understanding.  "That may be so."  She taps her lips, stained with the purple juice, and gestures outside.  "Fey are part of the natural world.  They are the embodiment of it.  The dryad embraces the tree, the oread the mountain, the siren the coast, the grig the pond, the pixie the mischief, the fossgrim the waterfall.  And some of us embrace the time betwix one thing and another.  Volsh, you wish to embrace nature, and that is a good thing.  A civilized person sometimes finds change to such a different form of nature so shocking they go mad.  Perhaps in spending a little time here you might find change easier than ever."  She smiles at them both.  "That is how you found this place, after all."

Volsh paused his chewing and stopped his hand halfway to his mouth with some more fruit when she said her last response to Haazheeel. He put the fruit down but finished chewing and slapped the table with a quick laugh, "wait... so you're a fey? Aww... my amma always told me not to eat the fey's food or I'd have to stay with them forever. Am I stuck now? I mean I like your garden, but I like to eat meat too..."

Then he shrugged and picked up the fruit again, "in for a copper I guess."

"So, what do you mean that staying here might help me with my change stuff. How much do you know about what I'm up against? I don't get what you said how we found this place. Wasn't it here on our way out to the WeeJas folks?"