At the end of my first week in Rocky Shore, Digby pulled me aside.

“You've been doing a terrific job here, Raymond. I can see that a bright fellow like you could be suitable for all sorts of tasks. My storeroom has never been better organized, my customers are happy. And thank you again for handling that sorry business over at Matilda's. If we keep on like this, this place could really become a going concern around here. Have you given any thought to your plans for the future?”

Really, I had been so thoroughly distracted with trying to come to grips with my environment and provide for my immediate needs that I hadn't given much thought to long-term planning. Still, I knew for certain that I didn't want to stay in Dogberry Lane permanently.

“Well, I was intending to stay here only long enough to get some basic traveling gear together. So far, I have decent cloths and a good pair of boots, but I really need more if I'm going to strike out on my own again. You know, things like a bedroll, a pack, some cooking gear, rope, that kind of thing. I really have to start pulling in money to make this work, and I'm not sure I can do that here.”

I was saddened, because I really did have a soft spot for old Digby, but what was I supposed to do, spend the rest of my life sorting through trash?

“Ahhh, I thought so. Big smart fellow like you can't always be helping out an old man in his smelly little shack. You want to see the world, get a little adventure while you're young. Am I wrong?”

I arched an eyebrow, uncertain where this line of reasoning was headed.

“Mayhaps you'd be willing to expand your role in this little “organization” of ours, eh? Try your hand at something a little different? A little more... exciting, say?”

I was really starting to lose my patience with Digby's mafia-esque circumlocutions. Obviously, what I had seen of his activities barely scratched the surface. I was fairly certain that Digby was a criminal of some description, which didn't really bother me too much. Most likely he was engaged in some banal tax-avoidance and/or smuggling operation, likely involving drugs or something comparable. Given what I had seen of the “legitimate authorities” in the area, I had little reason to hold local laws in high regard. I simply nodded affirmation again.

“Brilliant. Here's what I need you to do. I want you to head out of town and meet with some associates of mine in the woods nearby. I can tell you exactly where you need to go, but I need your most solemn word that you won't say anything to anyone about where you've been. Right? Not a soul?”

This was asking a lot. Part of me wanted to turn him down. I liked Digby, but trusting him was something else. There was something so endearing about how thoroughly and shamelessly unwholesome he was. It was enough to make me really wonder what his Charisma score might be. How can someone so obviously untrustworthy be so easy to confide in? I suppressed my misgivings.

“You have my word. Not a soul.”

Digby clapped his hands, as though he had just won a bet. “Lovely! I know you're a man of his word if I ever saw one. I need you to take some supplies to them and bring a little package back to me. Now I know what you're thinking, but it's nothing that you'll get in trouble for. Just be quiet and nonchalant and it will go fine. I've given my friends a description of you, and they can't wait to meet you.”

“Are you going to supply me with a description of them?” I asked, feeling like I was being left in the dark. Digby seemed entirely too amused by my question. He then proceeded to totally ignore it.

“I know I'm asking a lot here. I need you to really trust me on this. But if this job goes well, you'll be well on your way to acquiring anything you might need. Alright?”

In for a penny and so on. Digby opened the barrel of dog droppings and pulled a little rope that had been concealed inside. For the first time, it occurred to me that there didn't seem to be a tannery anywhere in town, making the matter of why Digby collected dog crap an open question. The rope was attached to a large oiled sack, which, once opened, revealed another sack. That sack contained a large collection of smaller sacks, one of which Digby handed to me.

“That's the one. Take this down the coast a ways until you see a mound of earth overlooking the sea with two dead trees on either side. My contact will meet you there. Don't open the sack.”

I did as he instructed, for the most part. I took a peek in the sack once I was safely out of sight of the town. Well, I didn't exactly give my word about that, and Digby had given me plenty of cause to suspect this whole business. Despite being the third layer down in the dogshit barrel, the sack still stank enough that I felt the need to rinse my hands in the surf after touching it. Inside was nothing except a stack of sixteen silver coins. The coins were smaller than the one I had brought with me, with a small hole in each of their centers, so they could easily be worn on a chain. The stack was bound together tightly with leather cord to stop them from jingling. I could see why Digby had asked me not to open the sack, but the fact that money was changing hands was not much of a clue as to what I was actually getting involved in here. I tied the package back together and continued to the mound.

It was there, just as Digby had said. I had to climb a fairly dangerous rock wall to reach it from the beach. The mound was about ten feet high and twenty-five in diameter. It was clearly not natural, probably a remnant of an ancient building or a burial site. The “friend” who met me there was one of the mysterious customers I had seen visiting Digby's shop, an older woman with a sallow face and an untidy mop of gray hair.

“I have the package. Don't you have something for me?” I asked, as she didn't seem to have anything with her.

“No, no, that isn't for me. I'm just here to facilitate the transfer.” she said in a voice that seem both breathy and gravely, like the voice of a very heavy smoker.

“Well, yes, that's why I'm here as well.” I told her. She seemed to share Digby's habit of breaking into baffling laughter at perfectly reasonable statements.

“Right this way, my good man, don't be shy.”

She led me up the mound to the very top. There, she bent down and traced a curious little marking into the dirt at the apex. It looked like a ladder with some of the rungs broken off.

“There you are. Just step on that.” she said.

I looked at the marking. I looked back at her.

“Step on it.” I wasn't really asking a question, just wanting a general explanation.

“Yeah. With your foot.” she said, as if this was meant to clarify matters.

In for a penny. I hoped I hadn't put those points into Wisdom just to turn around and make a fool of myself. I put my foot on the little marking.

The ground gave way under me. The earth of the mound parted like a set of curtains, and I instantly found myself plunging downward into a cold, dark abyss.

I dropped through the darkness for several minutes. I cried out in shock at first, but no sound emerged from my mouth. I forced myself to calm down as I dropped through the emptiness. I was conscious of massive shapes moving around me, but I couldn't see them distinctly enough to make any sense of them. I was reminded of Alice's long journey down the rabbit hole, only a lot less whimsical. Obviously I had vastly underestimated the extent of Digby's mysterious connections.

I experienced a nauseating feeling of deceleration, like the feeling at the end of an elevator ride. The ground appeared beneath me without warning, and I crumbled into it like a parachutist. I found myself once again on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea, although I could swear that the sea was now sitting in the opposite direction. It was dark. It didn't feel like night, as there was no moon or stars visible. It didn't feel like any particular time of day. The landscape had a surreal quality, like something from a half-remembered dream. The sky's only feature was a faint greenish haze that arched over me like the Milky Way. The faint light illuminated the landscape just enough to render it a mysterious mass of shadows. Just enough light to see the darkness by. The air was bitterly cold, and there was an odd sour smell in the wind. I was surrounded by a thick forest of dead trees with impossibly twisted branches. A path of rough gravel ran through woods away from the cliff. I had only one way to go.

I arose and attempted to make sense of my new situation. Digby and his “contacts” had tricked me into coming to whatever this place was. It would have been easy enough to have someone here to capture me if that was the intention. So what was the plan exactly? Seeing no alternative, I ventured forward along the path, promising myself that I would have some choice words for old Digby the next time I saw him.

The path meandered to and fro as it wandered through the woods, ensuring that I could never see more than a dozen yards of it at a time. I decided to suspend all thought of the larger context of this situation and focus my attention on the here and now. I listened intently to the sounds of the woods as the soft roar of the sea began to fade. Things fluttered though the bare canopy. I guessed that they were bats, simply because it was that kind of place. Every so often I heard the branches shake nearby, as though something were moving through the close-knit trees.

I heard the rustle of something big approaching from the path ahead. I entertained the idea of trying to conceal myself in the trees, but I knew that the snapping branches would give me away. I drew my dagger and wielded it underhand, ready to strike. The thing slowly skittered into view, and I had to give credit where it is due. The thing seemed to twist and change as my eyes tried to make sense of it. It gave the impression of a massive wolf-like creature, with eyes and mouths constantly appearing and disappearing all over its body. It staggered toward me on arching spider-like legs, dozens of them, and each as thick as my arm. There was a suggestion of bat-like wings above it, and the shadow of a huge scorpion sting behind it, twitching ready to strike. The thing was like a nightmare.

And like a nightmare, I immediately knew that the thing couldn't harm me. My eyes told me it was death incarnate, but both my logic and my instincts united to call bullshit. Nothing like that could be a real living creature, not even here. I stood poised and ready to stab the shit out of it all the same, I hadn't completely thrown caution away, but I certainly wasn't going to run from something so obviously fake. Where was there to run anyway?

It skittered toward me, so slowly. It wanted to scare me, that much was clear. It was just trying too hard. It was trying to slam all my scare buttons, but it lacked the subtlety and finesse to do the job properly. It slowed to a dead stop three feet from me. I stared at it. I couldn't make out any real expression its shifting mass of monster parts, but the overall impression I got was of embarrassment.

“Well?” I asked, bored of waiting for the punchline. The thing just slowly backed away, retreating into the canopy above, disappearing through the trees. Feeling victorious, I continued on my way.

Although it was tempting, I knew that I couldn't rest on my laurels just yet. I suspected that the spider-wolf thing had been the equivalent of the first question on Who Wants to be a Millionaire. I was being tested, and the initial results seemed promising.

As I trudged onward, the chilly night air grew colder. I found that my breath was now coating my beard in ice. The cold slipped into my toes and fingertips, making them numb. Snow started drifting down from the empty sky. Even the snow looked ash-black in this creepy netherworld. Soon I was walking though a winter wonderland as imagined by Tim Burton. In an odd sort of way, it was beautiful. I might have enjoyed it, but the temperature continued to drop. I began shivering in earnest, and the numbness continued to spread through my body. I buried my hands in my armpits, desperately trying to restore sensation to my hands. My ankles were cold, and my toes were lost to me. I was dressed for a brisk winter's day, not an arctic expedition. If I couldn't find some shelter soon, I would start to lose my extremities to frostbite.

Despite my pain, I was maintaining enough awareness to spot the birds as they started gathering around me. Great black ravens, big enough to serve at Thanksgiving, began watching me with interest as I struggled onward. I was tough, sure, but I knew there would come a point where toughness would simply be irrelevant. Human biology has a range of viable temperatures, and if you leave it, you shut down, however tough you are.

My vision began to blur and waver. I had lost all contact with my feet. I felt like I was walking on unsteady hooves. I had to pick up the pace, try to warm myself that way. It was no use. Without feeling in my feet, I could not maintain my balance in the growing layer of snow. I fell forward onto my elbows.

A raven landed beside me. I couldn't believe that a carrion bird could live in this cold, but this one was managing just fine. So were the next three as they landed around me. The had long dagger-like beaks and cruel, hooked talons. One after the other, they moved in and began tearing at me.

My dagger was still stowed away in one of my pockets, but it was useless to me if I couldn't feel my fingers. I kicked at the awful birds with numb feet and hammered on them with numb arms. Soon their beaks were wet with my blood, and they just kept coming. I tripped over my useless feet, and found I no had the strength to right myself. One of the little devils landed on me, ready to peck out my eyeballs. I was ready for him though, and caught between the frozen slabs that had once been my hands. He let out a choking caw as I crushed his ribs and mashed his guts together.

Instantly, it was over. Just like waking up from a nightmare. There were no birds, and no snow. I was lying on hard gravel, completely unharmed. My hands and and feet felt fine, I wasn't even bleeding. Just another illusion.

I got to my feet, feeling furious. Even if none of it had been real, pain was pain. Whoever I was dealing with was a master of illusion, able to recreate the worst physical sensations with exact detail. I didn't know now whether I was being tested, or tortured. The next time I saw Digby, I wouldn't say a thing. I would just ring his scrawny, pockmarked neck.

The gnarled trees around me no longer felt as silly as they had before. I was getting a lot of practice attuning myself to my environment as I scanned the tangle of branches for the next horror that would befall me. I didn't know who was responsible for trapping me in this place, but I did know for certain that trouble does not come in twos. I was beginning to wonder how deep I was in this dead forest now. It felt as though I had been listening to the sound of my own feet for hours.

The path divided up ahead. There was a path on the left, and another on the right, and no indication of where to go except a rotten wooden sign with arrows pointing in either direction. The lettering on the sign was in a spidery, looping script that I had never seen before.

You have encountered a language you are unfamiliar with. You have 5 Learning points unspent. Do you wish to learn the language “Dark Fae”?

Yes No

Of course I wanted to know what the damn thing said.

What level of language skill do you wish to acquire?

Simple: 1 Learning point

Fluent: 2 Learning points

Familiar: 3 Learning points

Eloquent: 4 Learning points

Damn. Going with Eloquent on Oestekommen had been a solid investment, but if threw down 4 points learning to talk to dark fairies, it would leave me with one measly point left. That would mean those would be my main languages for the foreseeable future. I would have to make do with Fluent this time.

As time resumed, I found that the lettering now read “Safety” on the left, and “Danger” on the right, despite the fact that the markings hadn't changed at all. I sighed. I had a strong suspicion that if I chose “Danger”, I would meet with some horrible fate and feel stupid, whereas if I chose “Safety”, I would meet with some horrible fate and feel stupid. The kind of sadist who would create this sort of forest would never take the chance of offering a “correct” way to go. Mulling it over, I chose the path on the right. I would end up feeling stupid, but at least this path was correctly labeled.

Before I had gone very far down the path of Danger, it lived up to it's name. The gravel path gave way beneath me, and I plunged once again into a dark pit. This one was a simple pit trap about three feet wide and twenty or so deep. The walls were of loose sand, making the whole thing look eminently collapsible. I had no way of determining whether it was real or not, but it was good enough to convince all my senses. I braced myself against one wall and slowly began climbing out. The climb wasn't difficult, but as soon as I neared the top, the sand gave way around me and I tumbled back down to the bottom. It wasn't a painful fall, but it was frustrating to have to start all over again. Again I climbed, again I nearly reached the top, again the sand betrayed me and sent me sliding downward. This time, the floor of the hole collapsed under me as well, and when I looked upward, the faint blue glow of the sky was twice as far away. Getting angry again, I braced myself and attempted the climb once more. After a much longer and more tiring climb, the sand did it's thing and I was sent to the bottom once again. The fall was quite a bit more painful this time.

I stood at the bottom of the hole, wondering if there was even a point in trying to climb out again. Even Sisyphus hadn't had to contend with a mountain that got bigger as he pushed the boulder up it. As I watched, the dim light showed something moving above me. The walls were writhing as though alive.

Thorn-covered vines grew in seconds before my eyes. They covered the walls of the pit and continued growing downward. Soon, every inch of wall surrounding me was coated in inch-long spikes. The vines even coated the ground under my feet. I could feel them trying to penetrate the soles of my boots.

What could I do now? It was possible, even likely, that all of this was just another illusion. Well, more an illusion than usual anyway. All the same, the thorns would definitely feel real, illusion or no. Even if I manged to climb up once more, the extra obstacle didn't mean I would be any more likely to succeed. There was no way of grasping the vines without perforating myself. If I tried climbing up now, the thorns would strip me down to the bone. What else could I do? I stood at the bottom of the hole, and tried to think my way past the situation. In the two previous tests, the danger had not been real. Even the cold had been all in my head. Where was I in reality? Maybe the hole did not really exist at all. Maybe I was standing in the middle of the road, simply believing that I was in a hole. If that were the case, the way to escape wasn't upward, but forward. I couldn't climb out because there wasn't anything there to climb. If I was right, I just had to walk forward through the thorns. I pressed my hand against the wall, feeling the dozens of sharp pints stabbing into my hand. If I was wrong, I would almost certainly be killed. It was leap of doubt.

I hesitated. I stared at the thorns in front of me. My doubts were not making them any less convincing. I thought about hurling myself against them with my arm or my back leading, so that if I was wrong the damage wouldn't be too bad. I could tell that nothing like that would actually work though. Doubt wasn't really doubt if you had a back-up plan. I closed my eyes, and cleared my mind. I focused on the image of myself, on the road, about to walk through an imaginary barrier. I lunged forward.

Regret and sharp thorns pierced my entire body. The thorns were in my eyes. I would never see again. The pain was worse than I had imagined.

Just as before, I stood on the path, totally uninjured. I should have felt relieved, but my patience with this farce was just about expended. I needed to find whoever was in charge here and give them a piece of my mind.

The path ended at the mouth of a cave. Two creatures stood guard at either side. They were each about four feet tall, and had strangely long and thin bodies, as though they had originally been two feet tall, and had been stretched to their current proportions on a rack. Their skin reminded me of snake leather, and they grinned at me with with mouths full of needle-like teeth. They were each armed with a scythe. I addressed them in Dark Fey.

“You'd better have a very good explanation for the shit I've just been put through!” I snarled at them. The language sounded strangely animalistic in my mouth, all hisses and snaps. I kinda liked it. It was a good language for shouting at people.

The two goblins (for there was nothing else they could be) answered me only with derisive laughter. They stepped aside, however, and let me pass by. The cave opened on a set of stone steps leading downward, illuminated by the same eerie half-light that illuminated the sky of this world.

At the bottom of the stairs, the cave opened out into a large grotto. Stalactites and stalagmites gave the spacious room the feel of a mouth full of teeth. The floor was coated in a carpet of vipers, hissing and slithering everywhere. At the back of the cavern was a throne made of thorn-covered vines. Six large wolves surrounded it like guards. On the throne sat the Queen. She wore no crown, nor an ermine cape, nor anything else for that matter. This Queen needed no ornaments to signify her status. Everything about her, especially her blood-red eyes and her blood-red smile, oozed regal grace. Her skin was an unnatural shade of white, the color of salt. Her hair was loose, stringy, and utterly black. Her voice was soft, so much so that it didn't match her expression at all.

“Come in, come in. Do step lightly. I assure you, the serpents are quite real. They will not bite you though, unless you tread on them...or if I give the word.”

I stepped carefully over the vipers, until I stood within ten feet of the throne. It was unnerving how comfortable the Queen looked seated on that bed of nails.

“So...I guess you're the one who's been jerking me around all day?”

“I suppose I am. I must say, Digby was right about you. Most mortals would be quivering and begging to be let go by now.”

She was trying to butter me up. Good, that meant she wanted something from me.

“I do my best. Can't say I'm impressed with your hospitality.”

“Of course not. Your kind has never possessed a sense of gratitude.”

“Gratitude? So you think you've done me a favor?”

“How have I not? Here you stand, stronger and better able to face your future then you were yesterday. You have tested your limits and surpassed them. Why would you be so ungracious as to pretend that I have harmed you in some way.”

“I know you Fey think differently than we humans, but even you must have noticed that pain is unpleasant. You know, a thing that we would rather avoid?”

“I am quite familiar with pain. You cannot avoid it, and you would be a fool to try. Pain is the greatest of teachers, the most high and noble of experiences. You humans do not appreciate the richness that it adds to your lives. It is pleasure that you ought to treat with suspicion.”

“Ah, I see. You are tying to persuade me that the Seelie Fey are evil, and that you must therefor be good.”

“Good and evil are concepts that humans play around with. We Fey are more...practical creatures. The distinction between the two great courts is one of strategy, not morals. The Seelie Fey cover themselves in images of beauty, pleasure, and joy. To fall into their hands is like being a fly, trapped in warm honey. They will make you love them, make you need them. The slavery they offer is the most full and complete imaginable.”

“Whereas you're offering the more conventional whips and chains variety.”

“We seek to better you humans. We wish to see your noblest qualities: courage, strength, and wisdom, shine through. You may not enjoy the process. Growing up never feels good, but it is what is best for you.”

“Those who claim to be above good and evil are invariably the latter. You won't take me in.”

“Oh, what closed-mindedness. You are better than that, I suspect. You are open to the possibilities that your existence offers you. We seek a partnership with you.”

“A partnership? You brought me here because I was wandering aimlessly, and you sought to take advantage of that.”

“Why not? Wouldn't you like to take advantage of me?” she asked.

“From where I'm standing, you seem to have all the advantages.”

“Here, in my own domain, there is little that can reasonably challenge me. But this is not a good time for the Unseelie Court. We have suffered losses in the last few centuries, and the balance of power has shifted away from us. You could do much to restore that balance.”

“Do you expect me to simply take your word on that?”

“Not in the least. I merely expect you to act as your conscience dictates. We already have a common enemy, so it is in our best interests to support one another. All I propose is to give you the advantages that the Unseelie are able to bestow. You have already encountered the Seelie in your travels, and you understand their arrogance and duplicity. I wish to arm you with the skills and knowledge you will need to humble them. You already possess most of the qualities you will need to pose a serious threat to them. Please, allow me to arm you and send you against them. If you are successful, you will not find me ungrateful.”

She fell silent. For a time there was no sound in the grotto but the hissing of vipers and the soft breathing of the wolves. If I refused, would she simply command them to tear me to pieces? It was certainly a possibility. Hell, she might do that if I accept. The Seelie lady that I encountered in the woods had treated me as though I were a mere toy, and her Unseelie counterpart struck me as being no better. The Seelie woman had acted as though turning me into a fox for a day and leaving me naked in the middle of the woods had been a favor, and this bitch thought that freezing me half to death and dropping me into an inescapable pit had been favors. When you came down to it, I knew almost nothing about these two groups apart from some of the folklore that had inspired them. Neither of them were really good or really evil by human standards, and both were totally insane by human standards. She had done a good job of stroking my ego, trying to make me want to prove her right. Even aware of the trick, I couldn't deny that desire. She would like me to think that all the Unseelie did was frighten people and test our inner strength, but who knew what these dark fey were really up to when no one was looking? Once again, despite all my reservations, I was inclined to move forward rather than back.

“If I were to accept your offer, what would I actually have to commit to? What are the terms?”

She grinned, showing me her bright red teeth. She clearly felt that my answer implied capitulation, or at least the shadow of it.

“I don't demand any great commitment on your part, at least not at this time. You can think of yourself as a mercenary, if that helps. I will make a small initial investment, get you some proper equipment and a little money to get you started, and I'll introduce you to the way the Seelie and Unseelie battle one another. Once you have the proper instructions, you will be able to seek out the Seelie Fae and discover their activities in the world of mortals. There will be no need for any formal agreement, you will simply see their doings and feel compelled to act. When you do, I shall have rich rewards waiting for you. Do you understand?”

“No. You speak in vagaries. What would I actually receive?”

She grinned again. She had the teeth of a predator. She raised her hands theatrically and clapped them together once, making almost no sound. I heard the scamper of feet behind me. Two of the goblins (I could tell that they were not the same ones who had been guarding the door) came down the stairs and into the grotto. Between them they carried a wooden chest. There feet danced gracefully over the vipers as they placed it gently on the floor in front of me and opened it, the snakes scattering to accommodate it. Digging through the contents, I found a rusty but serviceable flanged mace, a steel chain-mail shirt, a small leather-bound book, and a funny little triangular stone with a hole in it.

“This is what you meant by an initial investment?”

“A suitable weapon to strike down your enemies, armor to guard your life against the Seelie's weapons, a book detailing the nature, strengths, weaknesses, and habits of the Seelie Fey, and a proper treasure, the famous self-bored stone, or Serpent's Egg, if you prefer. In addition, my servant Digby shall introduce you to other Unseelie agents, who can provide you with information and resources as the need may arise. If you apply yourself, this could be the start of a very successful and lucrative career for you.”

I picked up the talisman that she had called the Serpent's Egg. “What is this for?”

“It has several interesting properties, but the main one is that by looking through it, you can penetrate all the glamours of the Fae. Quite useful for locating the agents of the Seelie in their many disguises, and essential for doing battle with them. Human senses are our playthings, as you have already seen. With this, you can deal with us as we really are.”

“Aren't you worried that I'll just sell the thing? I could even sell it to the Seelie, I'm sure they would be willing to pay.” I said, looking through the hole in the stone. Either it didn't work at all, or everything I was seeing was actually happening.

“They would, but it isn't a great concern to me. Deception is more their weapon than ours. But the real reason I'm not worried is that I wouldn't have chosen you for this position if I didn't believe that you would deal fairly. The Seelie Fey often attempt to bribe my servants, and they often succeed. They have been corrupting the hearts of mortals since you were living in caves, and they are quite adept at it. I can see into your heart, and to some extent, you can see into mine. You may not like me or trust me, but I know I can trust you. Enough chatter. When you come here next, I have no doubt that you will know much more than you do now. Until then, take your new possessions and return to your own realm. The silver you brought with you is yours to keep as well.”

I briefly considered pretending that I hadn't opened the package Digby had given me, but I thought better of it. I remembered that the word “Deception” in my skills list had come with a “-1” next to it, and there was every possibility that she had been spying on me. It was difficult to know how to handle one's self around beings of unknown but definitely supernatural capabilities. Who could say what they could or couldn't do, or know?

I picked up the chest and headed up the stairs. I didn't know the polite form of farewell in Dark Fae, especially since she had never revealed her name or actual rank to me. Sure, she seemed like a queen, but she was a Fae. She could probably “seem” like Robert Downey Junior if she wanted to. I simply left in silence. The wolves, vipers, and goblins parted to let me by. Once outside, I found that the path through the dead trees had disappeared. Instead the older woman with the unkempt gray hair was there to meet me.

“Are you prepared to return, friend?” she asked.

“One moment.” I spent some time equipping myself while she stood and waited. It was rude, I know, but after that “with your foot” remark I wasn't about to consider her feelings. I decided to wear my new chain-mail under my clothing so as not to appear armed. This turned out to be rather uncomfortable. Not only was the mail very heavy, my hairs kept getting caught between the fine steel rings. I opened the book and flipped through it with interest.

This book contains knowledge on the following subjects:

Occult (Fae Lore)

Politics (Seelie Fae)

Occult (Seelie Fae)

You have 3 Learning points remaining. You may spend 3 points to instantly gain all knowledge available from this text.

Yes No

So, I could also spend my Learning points to instantly read books and gain useful information. It seemed like this “Learning” system was intended to allow the players to acclimatize to the world more easily. Still, the book was barely 50 pages, and I wasn't about to waste the last few points I had on something I could handle in an afternoon. I dismissed the prompt.

I picked up the Serpent's Egg and looked through it at the woman. Sure enough, she too was a goblin, one with an especially porcine nose. Satisfied, I dropped the stone into my pocket.

“Alright, let's go.”