The Bargain

Scagliola was told stories of the Rotweave as a child, but nothing could have prepared him for the scene he awoke to. A persistent red haze lingered in the air, the scent of cedar permeating throughout. As he gathered the rest of his senses, he found he was at the top of a prominent hill looking out on a vast, open field. His immediate surroundings were a mixture of raw bedrock and hewn stonework, the origins were lost to him.

A gentle breeze blew against Scagliola's face, swirling the haze around. His eyes needed little time to adjust; the starless black sky was torn asunder with cracks of gold-green light seeping through, casting beams upon the ground. He climbed onto the ruins and gazed outward, spying a large well-maintained road coursing between the surrounding hills.

"Just what have we gotten ourselves into..." Scagliola whispered to himself, remembering his lack of outerwear as he stared down at his filthy night-coveralls.

Scagliola scanned the horizon from his vantage point, noting there were similar ruins littered across the landscape. He also tried following the light across the sky, only for it to continue beyond the horizon line. Satisfied he was presently along, Scagliola jumped down from the ruin, as his landing kicked up ashen dust which clung to his pant legs. He began to survey his immediate surroundings for any clues that would guide him to where Sallus and the figure may have gone. Not including his own boot prints, these ruins looked completely undisturbed. He traveled further down the hill, keeping eyes and ears open for any unnatural sounds.

As the ground began to flatten out, Scagliola identified a dirt path a brief distance to his right. It was not an intentional road, this was hewn by like-minded individuals. This gave Scagliola equal parts relief and concern; This area was - still is - well traveled. As he followed the path to the main road he noticed this world wasn't entirely empty. Far in the distance he saw shadows in the sky flying against the cracks of light. Whether they were avian or otherwise was a matter left unconfirmed, Scagliola aimed to travel as unseen as possible to find Sallus.

A single sign greeted him upon his arrival to the main road. The text written on it was unintelligible to him, but the orientation suggested whatever it was could be found if he headed left. With no other leads available, Scagliola turned to his left and began walking.

An hour had passed, by Scagliola's reckoning, with nothing to show other than tired soles. The ambient weather in the Rotweave confused him. He felt neither warm nor cold, as if the world was matching his body temperature exactly, even with the amount of physical exertion he had just undergone to travel this far. Even more curiously, he also realized while his feet ached from the distance traveled he felt no outward need to stop moving.

"I have found myself with a perfect climate, and seemingly boundless stamina," Scagliola pondered as he continued his march, "If this is what the Rotweave offers, I must question why we were taught to fear it..."

He traveled further down the empty road. More signs appeared with the same cryptic text, each one ushering him in the same direction. Another hour passed and Scagliola found the first signs of some sort of intelligent life. A clothed skeleton laid on the side of the road, propped up on a wall as if resting. Scagliola saw no dried blood, nor any damage to the clothing to suggest a violent end.

"I am sorry, friend, for I do not have the means to give you a burial." Scagliola said, undressing the body as gently as possible.

Donning threadbare shirt and pants, Scagliola gathered the bones together in a neat pile on top of the wall he found it. Checking the rest of the body's effects, Scagliola found a metal coin not dissimilar to a Gild. In the fashion of Vermis, he placed the coin in the mouth of the skull as an offering to whatever afterlife this soul believed in. Turning back to the road, a new marker was present with two signs. One of them was the same marker he had becomed accustomed to, while the second one pointed off the road with a word clearly written in the Old Tongue

Hom

Scagliola ran in the direction of this sign, coming across a dirt path not unlike the one that brought him to the road two hours back. Whipping past overgrown bushes and stumbling over loose rock and gravel the trail ended at a rocky outcrop. Tucked into the rocks was a set of cast metal doors bearing a motif of the Great Tree of his homeland. Scagliola strained to push open the double doors, revealing a hallway stretching into the darkness. 

An intricate mosaic of intertwining gold lines ran through the middle of the tile floor. The smell of cedar was harsher in this room than outside, and Scagliola confirmed its origin from numerous censers hanging from the ceiling. As Scagliola crossed the threshold of the building, he felt a pressure surround and pass through him. Once he was fully inside the room, Scagliola encountered a sudden sense of unease. The heavy cedar smell no longer assaulted his senses, and his hearing was dulled as if underwater.

"Hello?" He called out, or at least attempted to with his impaired faculties.

There was no response. Scagliola began to walk down the hallway, his footsteps muffled. Paying close attention to the censers hanging above, as dim as the lighting was inside the tomb he could see the incense was not simply plant material. tufts of fur clogged some of the air holes, and what appeared to be limbs were stacked together with chunks of wood and herbs. Even without his olfactory senses Scagliola couldn't help but gag reflexively, imagining the putrid stench emanating from above.

As he traveled down the hallway Scagliola believed he heard his footsteps begin to echo from deep inside, until he stopped walking and the distance sound persisted. Quickening his pace, he strode down the hallway as the light behind him grew distant and the incense cloud thickened. Without warning, a figure appeared in front of him. A young man wearing a Brightharbor Academy uniform.

"Sallus, I have found you!" Scagliola yelled, running to embrace his comrade.

Sallus showed no emotion as they got closer, and at the moment of impact Scagliola found himself staring further down the hallway. He turned around to see Sallus continue to walk down the hallway, vision focused on the door he had opened at the far end of the hallway.

He can't see me...

Scagliola turned back to where Sallus had appeared from, and saw a third person in the room with them. Getting next to them, he saw a gild was placed in its forehead. A faint golden arc poured out of the coin, flying to the furthest end of the tomb. Behind a stone dais, carved out of the wall itself, stood an immense statue. The figure bore shoulder-length hair, and was missing its hands. The golden arc completed its journey, connecting with the statue at the heart. In that instant, the incense in hallway froze, as if pulled out of time.

THE VOID DEMANDS

The Tyrant called out to Scagliola from the statue, no over voices from the Void joined in the messaging.

THE VOID DEMANDS
OFFERINGS

Multiple spectral arms erupted from the statue, reaching over Scagliola and slowly approaching Sallus.

I OFFER
BARGAIN

A single hand offers itself to Scagliola. In its hand is a marked gild, a deep cut running through the face.

"My kin," Scagliola uttered, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed the hand in front of him. He turned his head to watch as Sallus exited the tomb, while the rest of the arms returned to embrace him.

"I pray I return, to pay back what is owed."