Haunted House Archives - 2022

[Haunted House]

The Haunted House knew that finding new friends was so easy in Rhydin. All it had to do was show up, and invite them in!
These are their stories.

[Haunted House]

PIMM

You walk into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

"Proper young... hell naw I aint." Murmured quietly to myself. I approach the book regardless, and prod it with a finger, before trying to open it if it proves not to be some monster in disguise.

The book opens easily. It is a well written and beautifully hand illustrated book about plants, with little doodles in the margins. Briefly, a message appears before disappearing. I forget my name sometimes...

And then it is replaced with a doodle of eyes peeking over a garden wall, and an inscription: Among the angels and cherubs one stands out; his terrible teeth hide a secret.

"Huh."
I investigate the statues to find the one with the fucked up teeth, picking up the book and tucking it under my arm to bring with me just in case it wants to tell me anything else helpful.

There are angels and cherubs and even pretty roman bathing ladies... And one squat fat little gargoyle that looks rather perturbed, arms crossed and scraggly teeth set in a scowl.

I see if I can maybe dislodge the teeth if there's something behind them, or see if there's anything written anywhere on the statue.

The teeth stay firmly in place, but there's definitely something in there! How do you search for written things?

By looking to see if there's anything written on the statue, or running my hands over it to feel for engravings!
I figure there might be a button or panel to press somewhere on the statue to open the mouth.
Failing any of that I might just try and break it.

The gargoyle starts to shake, then snorts, and starts laughing! So ticklish! It opens it mouth wide, and a shard of terra cotta falls to the ground. It is painted with pretty little green flowering vines, with a pink letter E.

I look around for an obvious place that it might fit into, like one of the pots that's missing a piece.

On one of the tables is a pot painted with vines and missing an entire quarter of itself.

"Ah..." I put the piece down next to it, so long as there's not a place it obviously fits just yet, and look at the book again. I poke the pages. "Where's the other ones."

There is a giggle somewhere far off, and you find another doodle, this one of a little girl holding a potted plant and the inscription: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

"Fuck if I know. I guess dying might cure diseases, technically."
I start looking around for things that look like medicinal or poisonous plants, might as well cover all bases.

There are a group of pots with old dead plants and dirt, each labeled meticulously. Rosemary. Sage. Thyme. Dill. Oregano.

"If only there were parsley we'd have a simon and garfunkel concert going," I mutter before seeing if I can find some sort of anagram.
DORST? Sounds like a plant to me!

There is a giggle from under the tables... but nobody there.

"Hey creepy giggling noise can you tell me what these plants are about?" Unsettled, I dig around in the dirt to see if there's something buried in the pots.

Which pot will you dig in first?

Rosemary. Mainly because it's supposed to ward off evil spirits so I'm hoping some of it is still alive enough to be useful.

It is empty. Only dirt.

I give the book a dirty look. "You're not being super helpful bro."
I try the oregano next.

There is a snort of laughter from above, with no real discernible source. Oregano is empty. Only dirt.

"Well now the ceiling is laughing at me." I prod the book with a finger. "Usually in the video game this is the part where the helper NPC gives you a tutorial." I try digging in the Dill.
Growing tired of going one at a time, I take the rest of them over to the table and just dump them out

Out of thyme falls a shard of pottery, this one painted with a pretty green R among the vine motif.

"Oh.... time. Fuck I'm dumb." I put it next to the other piece, and hold up the book. "Alright whoever you are, you can give me another clue."

There is another tiny giggle, and a swish of fabric. In the book you find a doodle of a few question marks and the inscription: Riddles are hard. This is dumb. If you take a shovel to bed, you’ll earn your green thumb!

I look around for a shovel and/or a bed

There are plenty of spades lying about... And a raised flower bed. Doesn't look good to sleep in, though.

I pick a spade, preferably the one that looks the loneliest or like it might need a friend, and see if there's a patch of flowerbed that's been obviously dug up in any recent time.
Being Pimm, I have slept in a flower bed and would gladly do so again should the opportunity present itself. I more or less live in a greenhouse regardless.

The dirt is all dry and long undisturbed... Digging brings up a number of things, however... A small rusty shoehorn, a little doll's hand, an old slipper that was mostly rotted away, and a small handful of tiny tin birds, some in flight and some sitting fat and happy. Digging deeper, you come across another shard of pottery, this one painted with a red letter N.

I check the sizes of the pieces against the missing pieces of pot to see around how many may be left to find.

They seem to fit together pretty well, but there is still one sliver left...!

I look at the book. "Whatcha need mysterious giggle friend. Also, I don't know what we're spelling, but it's obviously gotta be NERF or nothin'. Those are the rules."

There is a doodle of a sun, and the inscription: I am a god, a planet, and I measure heat. What am I?

"Mercury!" I shout triumphantly, and look for a thermometer.

In the trash pile as you pass, a glint of something metallic catches your eye!

I leap dramatically upon the trash

Something goes squish, and you're pretty sure it squealed... but you catch yourself... a thermometer!

"Oh shit sorry." I inspect it to see if the letter is on it.

There is no letter, but as you move it around... the temperature reading fluctuates wildly!

"Trippy." I start looking for the warmest place in the room.

Hotter... Hotter... The temperature seems to be highest right over a neat pile of garden stakes!

The stakes have never been higher.

Truly!

I dig through them to see if there's anything buried.

Lives are at stake!

I'd stake my reputation on the last piece being in there

As you reach in you feel the cool brush of terra cotta on your hand, and pull out the last of the shards, painted with a pretty letter F.

"A ha! Nerf or nothin!" I knew this was no mis-stake! I go back to reassemble the flowerpot.

NERF doesn't seem to work... Alas.

FERN?

This seems to fit just right.

"Fern it is," I murmur, looking for some glue or some such to hold the pot together, "but it'll always be NERF in my heart."

There is no glue directly on hand, but perhaps a final clue...

I look at the book. "Okay so what now, or are you going to laugh at me somemore." I glance around the room, hoping to catch sight of the mysterious giggler this time.

There is no sign of the giggler, but the mood in the room feels amused, happy. Pleased. The book has a little horse doodle (with x's for eyes!) and the inscription: This is how you get one from two; sometimes a stick, but you’re looking for goo! It’s hiding in a place where you’d enjoy a hot brew!

"I don't know that they actually make glue out of horses anymore," I say with a raised eyebrow, before looking for a... coffeemaker?

No coffeemaker in sight!

"Unless this place has a coffee bar I'm stuck," I mumble, approaching the rocking chair as a last ditch effort.

Doesn't this look like a nice place to enjoy a cuppa? I mean... besides it being... rickety. Sitting on it might even turn it to dust! Please be careful... The haunted house has, like... no insurance.

I carefully search around the rocking chair to see if it contains either the answers to all the world's problems, or some glue.

Lifting the cushion will find you the answer to all of... your gluing needs. There's glue there. Sorry about life's problems. Solidarity. Some of us are ghosts. We get it.

I take the glue back to the pot, still sad about the nerf thing, but comforted in the fact that even ghosts have existential problems. Maybe especially ghosts.

Will you fix the pot?

Indeed, it deserves to be fixed poor thing. A thousand curses upon whoever broke it, for shame.

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress appears to peer over the table at the pot for a moment, then smiles up to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

"Bye, Fern," I say with a grin and a flourishy bow, before heading towards the door.

The vines part and reach and pull, and one wraps around itself until it creates a tendril to wave a goodbye. It pulls you until... it pushes you right on out! Where you show up, who knows? Could be in a rafter or standing right on top of the bar! As you leave, you realize the things you dug up, whether to meant to keep them or not, are in your pockets.

THE END.

[Haunted House]

GWYDYR

You get sucked into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

Something unexpected happened, and an ancient dragon nearly old enough to be considered a wyrm found herself sucked into a greenhouse. The first thing that she did was preen her wing joint nervously and aggressively, like an agitated cat.

Surprisingly... The room seems to dwarf you, despite your massive size! It's almost like being a people. Oooo, spooky.

"IT IS ALMOST LIKE BEING A PEOPLE," she said out oud, "EXCEPT THAT IF I ITCH MY HEAD WITH MY HIND LEG I DON'T FALL OVER." Then she blushed the pan pride colors and preened some more.

This went on for a full minute. Then she slithered over to the table and up to the book and flipped it open to read.

What a well-written book! So informative. But what's this... Doodles in the margins of some pages?

"FRIEND ETTYN DOES ART TOO." She handled the pages with surprising care with her talons, turning her head to the side so that one eye could fixate on the details of each doodle. What were they?!

One doodle was a pair of eyes peeking over a garden wall, with the inscription: Among the angels and cherubs one stands out; his terrible teeth hide a secret.

"A RIDDLE, I LIKE RIDDLES, I CAN TRY TO COME UP WITH ONE FOR YOU," she went on. She hadn't quite finished talking to... whoever... when she flapped her wings to settle in among the statues by the rocking chair. She looked each one directly in the mouth, which was how she usually looked at people when they were talking to her, anyway. (Because that was where the words came out.)

Plenty of fat, naked cherubs, a few bathing ladies, and in the middle, squat and fat, is a very grumpy gargoyle with crossed arms and a scowl. But his mouth is... closed?

She craned her neck to look at the back of his head, upside down. Was there a hollow spot?

No hollow spot... and the gargoyle seems very irritable about... something.

She tried scooping him up with her tail to examine him from other angles and see if something else was biting him.

The gargoyle flails! Flails! What an unhappy thing, smacking and flapping useless tiny little wings!

"SAY AHHHHH!" She shook it like a tambourine!

"AAAAAAAAAH!" The gargoyle screeches, and something tumbles out of his mouth, clattering to the floor!

She didn't mean to throw the poor guy. She just kind of did in order to free up her tail, using the tip of it to scoop up the object on the floor instead, bringing it up for closer examination. "THE GAME IS AFOOT," she told the clue.

The object is a shard of pottery, with a pink E painted on it, surrounded by flowery vines. It seems to have broken from its pot.

She held the shard closer, putting the flowery vines right up to her milky eyeball. She wanted to identify the plant!

It's very pretty. Unrealistically done. A child's painting.

"OH," she said to the shard, and skittered over to the pots to try to find its cousin or cousins. Did it match the concrete pots, or the big mess of pieces on the ground?

Among all the pots there seems to be one with a whole quarter missing, painted with child-like flowers and vines.

She chirped something triumphant in Draconic ("FRESH DEER INTESTINES," roughly) and slid the piece into place.

It fits. Kinda. But falls right back off again.

She preened her wing joint about it.

There is also still more space. Pieces are missing!

She stopped preening. "THE GAME IS AFOOT," she repeated, and fwoosh, fwoosh, fwoosh, soared and glided back to the book to look at the next doodle.

The pages flutter from all those wingbeats, and settle on a page with a doodle of a sun and the inscription: I am a god, a planet, and I measure heat. What am I?

"A RIDDLE," she answered, but she considered this.
"MERCURY." She flared her nostrils as she looked around the greenhouse. Did she whiff that poisonous liquid metal, or catch its gleam about the place?

Somewhere in the trash pile, there was definitely the smell of something mercurial.

"THAT MEANS MOODY, I READ IT IN A THESASAURUS." Bad Gwydr! No reading the narration! She slithered over and stuck her head in the trash pile to root around.

Clink, clatter... A thermometer falls out and skitters across the ground!

This took delicacy. Her form went vwoom and she was a drowish half-elf with soft fingers perfect for picking up thermometers. She examined it. "Yes hello, what secrets have you?"

Moving the thermometer makes the temperature fluctuate, depending on temperature!

"Ah. Hmmmm." She looked around for a sun!

There are no suns... It's so gloooooooooomy! But the temperature seems to rise when it passes a pile of wooden garden stakes.

She adjusted her silks as she squatted by the stakes, looking for the warmest spot and pawing away debris to see what there was to uncover.

As the stakes fall away, another piece of terra cotta is uncovered! This one a purple letter F.

"Ferh," she said, the closest Draconic equivalent to the letter, and placed it beside the E. Then back to the book and the next doodle!

The doodle on the next page is a little girl holding a potted plant, with the inscription: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

She was a Far Wildling Dragon! This meant that she knew more about herbs and plants than manners, silverware, and most other people things. She sniffed the air and looked around as she paced the greenhouse, searching for nightshade and other poisons.

No plants seemed to be... alive in here. Alas. What a poor greenhouse this turned out to be!

"--Ah, yes. What a sad place. That is okay. I know lots of sad places. We can be sad together," she said, and went picking through the stakes for the relevant herb. Were they labeled?

Rosemary. Sage. Dill. Oregano. Thyme.

"Oh no, Vrinpax would love this," she sighed, and picked up Thyme/Time and went looking for a shard there.

There are a few pots with dirt, only one with a matching stake among the long dead vegetation.

She rooted around in that pot! Picked through the dead plant matter and picked up the pot, turned it over, raked her fingers through the dirt...

Out with all the dirt came another shard of pottery, all covered in dirts and bits. Blech. At least it's dry! On it is painted the letter R.

"I have a feeling," she declared, and went to set the shard with its cousins. "Mostly it is sadness. That is okay. We are putting everything in its place, and maybe Newfriend Cyrus can make you grow if you would like that." Her words tumbled out rapidly yet smoothly, and she bobbed her head and shifted strangely as she went flipping through the book again. Next doodle!

For a moment, briefly, an inscription scrawls across the page: I forget my name sometimes...

It is replaced then with another. A doodle of question marks, with another inscription: Riddles are hard. This is dumb. If you take a shovel to bed, you’ll earn your green thumb!

Gwydr laughs were rare things, but she laughed now. It was all wide and toothy and half-hissed. "Riddles are hard, but I do not think what you do here is dumb." She patted the table? fondly and went to collect a shovel from among the fallen tools, using it to dig around in the disturbed bed she'd noticed upon entering.

You unearth lots of things. A tiny dolly, long buried. A few trinkets and coins. On very old looking thing that might have come from a cat. Ew. Most importantly, however, a shard of pottery with the letter N in red, prettily painted.

Did you think that a Far Wildling crystal dragon would not pocket a petrified cat turd?
She absolutely pocketed a petrified cat turd.
She took two coins, one for her hoard, one for a friend's. Then she took the doll, brushed out its hair, and sat it neatly on the cushion on the rocking chair.
Finally, she took the shard to its cousins to see if they would make a matching set. F E R N.

They match perfectly... but every time you try to stick them together, they just fall back down. The pages of the book rustle.

She laid them back out and said, "Yes, excuse me," and returned to the book in the same manner that one might answer the door. She looked where the pages settled.

There is a doodle in the margins of a cup of steamy tea, and the inscription: This is how you get one from two; sometimes a stick, but you’re looking for goo! It’s hiding in a place where you’d enjoy a hot brew!

She went back to the chair, and said "Excuse me" to the doll, also, and started to poke around. In the cushion? Under the chair? Somewhere nearby? She looked all around.

Under the cushion is a tube of glue, still gooey. Adhesive Get!

Was there enough for two small projects, not just one? The chair was still broken!

It seems almost empty.

"Hmm." She tugged at her ear nervously a few times, then informed the doll, "Be careful when you lean back." That would have to do. She used the remaining glue to put the pot back together to spell FERN.

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress appears to peer over the table at the pot for a moment, then smiles up to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

She did not startle at the appearance, nor disappearance, of a spirit. That was their wont. She only bowed in a very Draconic way, arms bent and pushing forward as if stretching, head bobbing. Then she turned and exited through the vine door.
With a cat turd in her pocket. Eyyyyyyy.

The door rustles to open, and you find yourself walking out of... A window! Oh no! How high! Not too high. Especially not for a dragon. You feel a bit slimy, though. Gross. But hey... You've got the most ancient cat turn in all of haunted house history in your pocket! Score!

THE END.

[Haunted House]

SHIVERS

You walk into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

Shivers takes a long look around after adjusting from the teleportation! She will walk around the tables, careful not to stop on shards. She will study the statues, if one is different more than the others?

There are all sorts! Fat little cherubs and bathing ladies in the roman style... angels praying and looking so regal and religious! And among them a squat, fat little gargoyle with cross arms and a scowl, looking quite displeased about something.

"You!" She pointed at the gargoyle and looked ot the book. She will pick up the book and bring it to the gargoyle. " Is this yours?" Shivers likes games.

The gargoyle doesn't answer. The book flaps open, and it's a well-written and illustrated guide to botany... but there, in the margins of the pages... doodles, and little scribbles, done in a child's hand!

She blinked softly as it opened on its own. She will look over the doodles and scribbles.

One is a doodle of a sun, with the inscription: I am a god, a planet, and I measure heat. What am I?

"Hmm. The planets are.. MERCURY, Venus.. wait.. that silver stuff is mercury right?" SHe will look around for Mercury!

The pile of garbage, broken things and refuse might have something like that! There is a rustle in it, anyway. And a small giggle.

Garbage giggling?? She will avoid it for now.. scanning the tables and pots first, hoping to find a thermometer there .. before she will go near the giggle trash.

There seems to be no thermometer on the tables, but something metallic glints in the refuse.

Be brave.. be brave. .. she will dig for that shiny in the trash. " Please be a thermor.. thermah.. a thing.." .. she mumbled softly.

You pull out a thermometer! The temperature seems to fluctuate wildly if you turn with it... Hot to cold.

Nothing came out of the trash! ... but what giggled? .. She stood and looked around, was there a place to stick this thermometer? Return it to its home persay? Changes when you tilt it, like an hourglass? She will watch it as she walks around the room.. gets warmer if she's closer to something?

The temperature seems to rise when facing a pile of wooden stakes.

She will explore the stakes. Hotter is a good thing right? She's careful with the thermometer , keeping it in one hand while the other hand searches the wood.

In the wood is a single shard of terra cotta. Upon it is painted pretty vines and childish flowers, with a purple letter F.

"F.. for flowers? Fahrenheit ?....fire?" Scary. She collects the shard and well look to the shards on the tables, looking for more letters.

No other shards seem to have letters. Or even be from the same pot. However, there is a single broken pot that seems to have, at one point, been very prettily painted.

She will see if she can fit this pretty piece into the a spot on the broken pot, or try to see if it fits with another piece.

It fits just on the edge of the great rift. Perhaps there's more?

Shivers likes puzzles... She sets the peices together and rumages around this pot for more pieces.

Careful! Broken pottery can be sharp! There's a rustle of pages in the book.

Ears twist toward the book. She will give it attention. She moves to the book, glancing around it too for shards that go to that pot!

There are no more shards, but the page has turned. On one a doodle of a pair of eyes peeking over a garden wall and the inscription: Among the angels and cherubs one stands out; his terrible teeth hide a secret.

Again, a little giggle, this time with a tiny snort.

The gargoyle? She looks to see if thats where the giggling snort came from.

The gargoyle seems just as displeased as ever, but even more so now, his face a near pout. Wow. Such a bad mood!

Does the gargoyle have nasty mean looking teeth? And why is he more upset!? She pouts too... taking steps toward it once more.... "Poor gargoyle.. say aahh?"

The gargoyle... glares? But then reluctantly opens its mouth. Just a bit. There's something inside! But he's still too grumpy to be very nice about it. Those teeth look sharp!

She looks toward the tools.. any tongs or pliers??

There are plenty of prying tools! Mostly things like pruning shears, though. A pair of pliers sits next to a spool of rusted wire.

Deep breath. she gets the pliers and will try to use them to get the something from his mouth.. " I have a cookie in my pocket if you don't bite me." She tries to bribe it ... as if its intelligent! SHe's a kid. Everything has feelings! And SHivers always has food in her pockets.

Cookie...? The mouth that wouldn't open for pliers immediately flew open, letting a shard of terra cotta fall out carelessly. The gargoyle... pointed to its mouth!

She giggles happily, " Yes yes! " She pulls out a pumpkin spice cookie! Shivers loves pumpkin. She will pop that cookie right into his mouth!! And collect her shard. " Thank you!!"

The shard is also prettily painted, this with a pink E.

"F , E.. " She hurried and put it with the other shard, seeing if it fit or not.

It seemed to fit perfectly!

... She will check the book for the next clue..

On the page, for a brief moment, is the inscription: I forget my name sometimes...

Then replaced by another. A doodle of question marks and the inscription: Riddles are hard. This is dumb. If you take a shovel to bed, you’ll earn your green thumb!

She blinks confused, sometimes forget my name.. "I forgot my name too. " She said softly, shovel to bed is obvious, dig for the next one. But .. name.. forgetting.. She's thinking about that as she looks for a spade. Old people forget names.

There are many spades to choose from. One in particular is perfectly sized for little hands! Like it was made for a proper young lady, reader of botany books.

"Fear? Feed? Feel... " She is thinking of Fe words too.. SHe moved to the little spade and held it for a moment, thinking.. glancing to the long raised bed in the middle, and skips over, starting to dig in random spot.

After some digging, you uncover a few coins, a tiny ceramic sheep, and the edge of another shard of pottery. Dislodging it will reveal it's painted with the letter N, in red.

"Fenrir? " Why that popped up she didn't know. She will pocket the coins and the sheep and take the shard to its sisters, setting it against them to see where it fits.

There seems to be one piece missing.

"Ok.. book. Lets see." She says and checks for another riddle. Still not coming up with what somtimes forgets its name. Old things do for sure. Water changes to ice.. but it doesn't forget.. fire...Fen.. fern? Its aplant...

In the margins is another inscription, next to a doodle of a girl holding a potted plant: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

"Heals and kills???" Shivers does not know plants. At all really.. SHe looks around for any of the pots that still had planty things in it.. Ferns grow in the wild, but she doesn't know if it cures or kills.Is it a herb? She looks around the pots for a piece of plant and for another shard. "cures and kills.. thats scary.. I guess too much or too little changes everything. " She nods as she looks around.

There is a group of pots with dead vegetation, all labeled. Rosemary, Dill. Sage. Oregano. Thyme.

... "rose.. sage.. sage makes bad things go away.. " She will look for shards.

Sage has nothing within.

She knows that, its the only thing she knows that does something besides taste. She looks for shards, or more herb labels.

Will she look through each pot?

Yes.

Eventually, when turning over thyme, a shard clatters out among the dirt clumps. This one is painted with a pretty green R.

"Th.. th imie? .. " She takes the R and moves over the other shards ... "F E N R .. " Rearranges them to spell fern, but she doesn't think thats the answer.

When they spell FERN, they seem to fit... Perfectly! But they seem to not want to stay together. Perhaps something to stick them together...?

".. hmm.." Glue? She gathers them.. she can either glue them or stick them in the dirt and pack them close..Holding them, she will look for glue.

The pages rustle... gently.

She will set the shards against the pot they belonged to and check the book again.

In the margins is a little picture of a horse, and the inscription: This is how you get one from two; sometimes a stick, but you’re looking for goo! It’s hiding in a place where you’d enjoy a hot brew!

"In a cup.. .. a stick has.. A glue stick! " She giggles and hops up, looking around ... for a cup.. or a teapot! .. Gum tree twig?

The only sign of a teacup is the poor shattered remains of one next to the old rocking chair...

But that rocking chair is scary. She will tiptoe over to the rocking chair and look around its shattered bits. Begging the chair, in her mind, not to move.

The chair doesn't move an inch. Not even a little creak. It is old and falling apart, and the cushion on the seat is nearly rotting off.

Good! Stay! ... she will search for the cup base, or around it... for sticky goo.. Honey? That goes in hot brews too.

Nothing but broken shards.

Hmm. Another place to enjoy a brew is at a table. She will Stand again and look around .. is there a tea table? An other signs of cups?

Alas, nothing of the sort. But one might enjoy a nice rest while enjoying a cuppa...

......She is NOT sitting in that chair! Apon finding no other cups.. she looks back to the broken one beside the rocker. .. there was a horse.. a stick and goo... and brew. She will look around the broken and missing pieces of the rocker. Maybe under its cushion for sticky things!

As soon as you lift the cushion you find an old bottle of glue, nearly empty.

She will take the glue and go back to the shards, careful dabbing just enough to each shard to try and glue them together. F . E. R. N.

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress around your size appears to peer over the table at the pot for a moment, then smiles over to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

She will wave to the little spirit.. not the first one she has met.. but at least this one disappeared without a fright! She looks toward the growing vine and moves toward it.

The vines reach out to pull you in, a few patting at your sweet little cheeks, one tweaking at your ear before pushing you out.

You appear back in the inn safe and sound, and you find in your hand a tiny figurine of a rocking horse, and a spade sticking out of your pocket, perfectly sized for your little hands. In the handle is scratched Fern.

THE END.

[Haunted House]

MAC

You walk into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

Mac, mid-curse at the Red Dragon Inn's door finds themselves past the threshold of a different door altogether. "This is why I hate doors, they are untrustworthy fuckers," Mac says to the house in admonishing tones. They flick their cigarette holder and let the ash fall where it may. Well, when in Rome. They take a turn around the greenhouse, walking the perimeter, peering into pots, but as yet, not touching anything. They make their way to the back, eyeing tools and disturbed earth, to spy the book with a most unlady-like snort.

The doors, it seems, have an ironic sense of humor.

There seem to be no actual exits at all! No doors, no latches... not even a super secret hatch hidden behind an old bookcase! Alas.

This is fine. Completely fine. Who needs doors? Not this one. It strikes Mac, as they pick up the copy of Botany for Proper Young Ladies that this type of puzzle is just Tella's speed. They open the book to hunt for clues.

The book is a well written and beautifully illustrated guide on plants. In the margins, are doodles and scribbles, in a child's hand.

Mac flips through the pages hoping something jumps out-- though not literally, just literarily. They eye the scribbles for patterns and repeating images.

There, on a page, a doodle of a little girl holding a potted plant, and the inscription: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

"What kills all things..." Mac muses aloud and stubs out their cigarette under the toe of their boot. "But is an herb...death." They are humming to themselves, Parsley, sage, rosemary and... "Thyme!" Single eye pans the surrounding tables with their pots looking for the tell-tale stalks.

There is a whole stack of pots with dead vegetation so far gone it's hard to tell what they might have been... But each one has a faded label. Rosemary. Sage. Dill. Oregano. Thyme.

"Blessed are the wierdo gardeners who label all their shit." This is, in fact, not weird. Mac rifles through the pots until they find the thyme one and rather than stick their hand into whatever dirt may still be there, they cast a glance about for an abandoned spade to use instead and get to excavating the depths.

Digging into the dirt takes a bit! It's packed tight. Hard work pays off, in the form a shard of pottery with the letter R, in green, surrounded by pretty painted vines.

"Hm."

Mac momentarily entertains the idea of smashing all the pots immediately.

Instead, holding the R they cut a path of short, truncated steps punctuated by hissing black tendrils of fabric towards the rocking chair. They flip the spade menacingly in a palm. "Alright, you." To the chair. They first search the frame, looking in the hole where the missing slat would join the seat.

Alas! Poor broken chair! All rotting and old and... ancient... and... stuff. Ahem. Maybe once it might have been a good place to sit and rock. But now it looks kinda... rickety. However, it doesn't seem scared of that devilish spade at all! Defiance!

They flip over the cushion leveraging the spade to pierce the fabric and see if anything hides inside. Spill your secrets or walk the plank!

As soon as the fabric flips over, it reveals a bottle of gooey glue. Still seems to be... well... Gooey. Now the chair is shaking on its rockers! Nah. More, uh... Rocking. Mostly from the force of being decushioned!

Belly-up immediately at the spade's threat. "Okay. Got a shard with a letter and now some glue. Somethin' tells me we are gunna be doin' some decoupage-craftin' shite, mate," Mac observes to the spade even as they eye the rickety rocking-chair. The idea strikes them to try to sit-- carefully-- in the chair just to look at the room from this point-of-view. It's a ginger affair on more than one level.

The chair groans. And somewhere, directionless, is a muffled giggle.

"Yeah, laugh it up, kindling," muttering to the chair. Mac scans the room weighing their next move. Smashing pots is not not on the list. Instead, though, they first look at the statues to see if any of the little garden gargoyle stands out, yanno, shifty like. Like it's hiding sekrits.

There are cherubs, angels, roman bathing ladies, and other interesting statuary. Only one gargoyle. Short, fat, squat, and seemingly in a terrible mood. His arms are crossed and face in a scowl.

Mac does not remember plucking the cigarette holder from where it had disappeared into the wig, but it's now in their other hand and taking aim at the gargoyle with a gesture that is more Brutella Lye than Rohin MacKurn. "You, I want you to give me something before I start breaking faces pots." The dress cannot accommodate the Collector's commanding stride, so they settle for a determined and sharp-stepped sashay at the little statue. "Didn't your mama ever warn you that if you make that face long enough it will get stuck--" Picking it up. "Hm, well, look at that, it did."

As soon as the gargoyle is picked up, those tiny wings start flapping and he's flailing! What a terrible little mood!

"Oh no you don't!" Mac snatches at him trying to catch him!

"MMMF! MMMMMMMMMMF!" He was trying to keep his mouth well closed! Grasping fingers catch him just right, and he jerks, mouth opening in a barking laugh! The laughter is echoed elsewhere, lighter and more child-like. Out of the gargoyle's mouth falls another shard.
E, in pink.

"Ha!" And then, as if they had not just wrestled with statuary, sets the gent down much more gently. "Thank you!" Snatching up this new latter.

The gargoyle huffs and goes back to being rather grumpy... Maybe... a little less grumpy.

The dress, alas, lacks pockets. So Mac makes for the seeding table for the dual purpose of setting out the current count of shards, two, and to check the overflowing debris for additional clues. "So far, R and E. If this eventually spells out READ THE DAMN BOOK, Imma break all these pots," and they sigh, unaware that they way they've cocked a hip in this dress rewrites all those lanky lines into something fit for a Noel Coward play. The angle of their elbow to wrist with Tella's cigarette holder renders the tableau complete even as they search the detritus.

In all the trash there's a flicker of something metallic, begging to be picked up.

"Don't have to ask me twice," though the usual crouch down turned into a bend-and-snap that should be illegal blonde not-with-standing as Mac picks it up.

You acquire a thermometer! The temperature seems to fluctuate as you move.

"Huh." A suspicion based on doodles and giggles starts to solidify. Mac plays along trying to follow the hotter of the thermometer around the room.

Heat seems to come from all those wooden stakes. According to the thermometer. Befitting, for someone dressed like a witch. You can almost hear the little dainty stomp.

"Ah yes, lead me to what my attention neglects little mercury." When such a metal rises, cosmically, doesn't that tangle communication? Mac, having more than one birthday, can never keep track of stars unless they are flying through them. They start pulling up stakes and applying the spade with liberal abandon. Dirt flies.

Out flies another shard, clattering to the ground! This a pretty purple F.

Excellent. Mac collects this and places it with its siblings R, E -- and the glue!-- on the seeding table before taking the thermometer for another tour of the greenhouse to, uh, get hot on the trail once more.

The thermometer seems to stabilize to the ambient temperature. Somewhere, directionless, there's a soft childish laugh.

Mac sighs. "One hit wonder, eh." Brow lifts. "Fine." They set it on the table and cast around for what they have yet to explore and spy the center raised bed with its violent disarray. Armed with the spade they approach and look for a likely place to start a-diggin'.

As you dig around you find a number of things buried. A small ceramic elephant, a mouldered old coinpurse filled with smooth pretty pebbles, and a rotten acorn. As you dig deeper, you hit against another shard of pottery... Pulling it out of dry dirt, you see it is painted with a pretty letter N.

Immediately, "Fern?" This time that low-slung voice raises the question and they cast about for either the plant itself or the labeled pot. All the unearthed items are set to the table as they move through the greenhouse.

On one of the side tables is a painted pot missing nearly a quarter of itself.

In an absence of presence, looking for the presence of absence can speak just as loudly. Mac heads to this pot to inspect it and dig out any extraneous dirt and plant matter with the spade.

There is no dirt in this pot, but the vines painted on it seem to match those childlike plants painted on the broken shards.

Mac hefts the pot turning it over to look at the bottom and all sides.

Just a poor broken pot.

"Hm." They take the pot back to the seeding table and on a lark put all the broken shards inside, sprinkling a bit of dirt atop even as they eye the elephant and the acorn with a small, hum, the sound like waiting for epiphany to strike.

Snort, giggle, snort! Imagine a pot tree!

Mac does imagine it.
"Alright, alright." The Collector exhales and flips the long curtain of red hair out of their way, though it still obscures the right half of their face. "We have a fern, fern pot, an elephant, and an acorn..." Mac picks up the elephant. "Anything to say, mate."

The elephant is silent. He ain't no snitch!

"Hungry, mate." Offering the elephant the acorn with a crooked half-smile. "Alright, Tella, if you were here what would you do." A pause and Mac points at the objects on the table. "Well, Mac, I would probably try to fix this pot. It has a vine pattern that matches the shards, yes? Well, you have glue. I think you know what to do." Thanks, Tella. Mac fishes the shards out of the pot and tries to see where they might fit on it.

How will you put the shards together?

With the straw glue dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry, with the straw glue.

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress appears to peer over the table at the repaired pot for a moment, then smiles up to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

"Oh thank fuck." And Tella. The Collector snatches the elephant and acorn, keeps the spade, and makes sure they have their cigarette holder and heads for the vine-grown-door.

The vines unfurl to open directly into the RDI, and then... Push you out, with a huff! As you are kicked out, a page from the book flutters behind you and sticks to your back with a wad of old glue.

Read the damn book!

THE END.

[Haunted House]

SIBYL

You walk into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

Very suddenly Sibyl found herself no longer stepping through a door being held open By Cane, but into a.... greenhouse of all places? "Cane?" She stopped, glanced over her shoulder to find the door behind her gone. "Huh." She was alone. As far as she was aware. It takes a moment, before her water finds her bag, and she started wandering, aimlessly through the greenhouse. It looked like it had been a magnificent once. Now tools laid askew, broken bits and rubble. Her attention lingered at the disturbed soil and plants, and eventually, she found the seedling table with the book. The title makes her snort softly. "Sounds like Victorian era." That's spoken aloud to herself, before the book is what she picked up.

The book is warm, almost as if having just been held. Opening it reveals a well written and beautifully illustrated guide on plants... and there are little notes and scribbles in the margin. Briefly, faded, a message: I forget my name sometimes...

"oh gosh." That's voiced once the book was actually flipped open. With interest, she flipped through the book. It was well done, beautifully illustrated. And a whole book! She's delighting in this way too much. Her skimming does pause when she found the scribbles in the margin. Faint, there's a frown as she flipped a few more pages.

You come across another doodle. A pair of eyes peeking over a garden wall and the inscription: Among the angels and cherubs one stands out; his terrible teeth hide a secret.

That makes her frown deepen. She checks the next couple pages, then looked up, gaze spanning across the surrounding greenhouse. She hadn't even taken a moment to look for a door. Something told her it wouldn't open even if she located one.

Not a door to be see. Not even a latch, lever, or even a vent! Trapped! Alas!

Cherubs and angels. Hm. With the book in hand, the scientist started to move again. There had to be a way out, right?! She sure hoped so! Her wandering was leading her closer to where she's seen those unloved statues.

There are so many pretty statues! Angels and cherubs and roman bathing ladies... and one squat fat gargoyle among them with tiny wings, and a scowl on its face. It looked like it was pouting, the way its arms were crossed.

She read over the words with the doodle again, and squints at the various statues. It doesn't take long for the scientist to place two and two together when she spies the little fat gargoyle one. It's in front of that statue that she knelt, before her attention shifted as she leaned in and inspected specifically, the statues mouth!

That gargoyle looks irritable and cross... But peeking, you can see there's something in its mouth! If only there was a way to get it open.

There's no way to wiggle it out from between teeth using her fingers? Because that's what she would try first. If not, the books being tucked up under her arm before she's scooting back on over to the tools!

As soon as fingers try to wedge into teeth there is an almost growl, a sound of gravel from the gargoyle.

Her eyes widened when the statue growled at her. "Look. I need whatever that is. I'll trade. I have uh... snacks." What do they even eat? She has no idea, but she's going to try.

A fat hand flies out and bats her hand away grumpily. There has to be a way to get a gargoyle in a better mood.

"No snacks?" A beat, and a flicker of surprise as the creature batted at her hand. "Uh. I have a book? Do you like shiny things?" She highly doubts that will work either. She squinted. Before she was aware that it was alive she was just going to go find a hammer. Not so much now. "...Do you wanna be in a better spot?"

The gargoyle gives a little huff... and then shrugs.

"I mean. Before I realized you were alive I was just gunna grab a hammer. I'm trying here. Can't you just open your mouth? Can't be comfortable. " That's said l, before she just kinda reached out to poke the creature. Maybe it was ticklish.

The gargoyle jerks violently at the tickle... and starts to laugh, mouth opening wide! A piece of terra cotta falls from its mouth with a pretty pink E.

"Haha!" There's a beat and a brief look of delight as she watched that piece of Terra cotta fall. She didn't hesitate to reach and snatch it up. "See. Not that hard. And no smashing!" She smiled for the little creature, inspected the pottery piece, and the letter. Curious, she's scooting towards where she knows she saw other broken pieces! Maybe there's more letters there!

The other pieces seem to be from a very plain pot, or pots. They don't seem to match the piece. There is, however, a single pot painted with pretty flowered vines missing nearly a quarter of itself on the table...

Investigation showed her that it was not those pots. Further looking led her to spying the mostly intact pot on the table. It's even painted. Once she reached it, she pulled it close, and checked to see if one, the piece she had fit, and two, if she needed more.

It seems to be the right pot by design... but definitely needs more.

"Hn," She took the piece and stuffed it in one of her pockets so she didn't lose it. Then she steps along the table to where the debris was and started poking. If it was broken on the table, maybe there's more pieces. If not, she's going to flip through the book to see if there's more clues.

As you dig in the debris, something shiny catches your eye.

Something shiny catches her attention, and she took the time to dig whatever it was out!

You pull out a thermometer! As you move around, the temperature seems to fluctuate wildly.

Huh. Thermometers don't normally function like that. Peculiar. Did it only fluctuate on the temperature reading, or could she feel the change in the air too?

Only the reading seems to change.

"Weird." That's muttered aloud, as she took a moment to note if there's certian directions that the temperature increases in, or decreases. Some kind of pattern. If not, then certian places that the temperature dipped or hiked.

The temperature seems to always rise going in a very specific direction. As if playing a game of... hot and cold.

That she could work with. She finally, starts in the direction of where it seemed to get warmer. Maybe it would lead to something useful, whereever in the greenhouse it led!

It seemed to ultimately lead to a pile of wooden garden stakes, neatly stacked.

She stared at the pile of stakes for a moment, looked at the thermometer, then back. "Shit." Mutter, grumble. Then she's moving to sort through the stack, maybe there's more clues here. Or something!

As you reach in your fingers brush over another piece of pottery. When you pull it out it is painted in the same vine motif, with a pretty purple F.

When she located another piece of pottery, she grinned to herself a little. This one had an purple F to go with a Pink E. The piece is added to the first in her pocket. Attention went back to the thermometer. Was it still jumping? Was she still playing hot and cold?

It is nice and calm, reacting only to ambient temperature.

Hm. Alright then! Back to the table she went, fishing the pieces from her pocket as she approached. And then she took a moment to see if the two fit together, and if not where on the pot they fit.

They fit together perfectly! And, lined up with the left half of the open space. F.E.

This was progress! It looked like she had the beginning of a word or something! She's not sure where to go from there, but there's another look scanning the area. She's wondering if there's more in the debris. Or somewhere in another flower pot... The thermometer found the table next to the pieces.

No more seem to be readily visible just yet...

She starts with debris. That's closest, fingers sorting, looking for anything else that may turn a clue.

Nothing seems to turn up... The book's page flutters.

Nothing. There's a huff as her hands came to wipe the dirt and dust off on her pants. Sound of fluttering pages pulled her attention back towards the book. Maybe there was something else there. she reached to grab and pull it closer.

There is a doodle of a girl holding a potted plant, and the inscription: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

Herbs. She stared at the doodle of the girl a moment, before her attention shifted towards the deadened herb garden. Book in tow, she heads that way!

Fortunately, the dead herbs are meticulously labeled! Rosemary. Dill. Thyme. Oregano. Sage.

Sibyl took a moment to consider the words. She's not sure what herb specifically was a cure all, but she does know that time specifically, kills all things. So she'll go for the pun first. She;s investigating the Thyme.

As you dig through and investigate, you find... a shard! Pulling it out, you find it is a green letter R.

Pardon her absolute delight in the fact that the house was willing to use puns. She's grinning bright when a green R shard is revealed in her digging. It's with excitement that she's scrambling her way back over to the table now, to fit this letter in with the other two pieces.

It fits very well... There seems only to be a single sliver left!

Back to the book she went! Are there more clues? She's flipping through pages.

There is a doodle of a few question marks, and an inscription: Riddles are hard. This is dumb. If you take a shovel to bed, you’ll earn your green thumb!

Shovel to bed. Shovel to bed.... She mulled over that a moment, and left the book to wander her way on over to where the tools were! She'd search for a moment till she found a shovel... she realizes at the same time too, that the bed it's probably talking about was the flower bed nearby. Might be a moment of digging, but that's where she's looking next,

As you dig you unearth items... A tiny ballerina, possibly taken from a music box, a little locket necklace with a picture rotted away beyond recognition, and a rectangular little tin box rusted shut. Digging deeper, you find a piece of pottery with a red letter N.

Sibyl found goodies! Surprisingly, she keeps two. The locket finds her pocket, and as does the tin rusted shut, especially if it rattles. And then finally, she finds the final piece of pottery she needs. "Hah!" Covered in dirt from alternating between digging with hands and the shovel, she makes her way back to the table and all the pieces, then slides them all together, and peers to read what word they make!

When fitted properly, they seem to spell FERN. But they're not very good at staying together by themselves.

Hm. There's a beat, and a look that scanned over her surrounding area. Things still didn't make sense like she half expected them to. But the letters spell FERN. She wonders briefly if she needs to go find a dead fern to rip up. Or to find a way to make the pieces stick together.

The pieces certainly weren't going to stick themselves. And there doesn't seem to be any ferns around, dead or alive.

Hm. She starts poking around for anything that could work. Glue, tape, old chewing gum even, Starting with the table, and working out from there.

Nothing seems to stand out... But perhaps one last clue... The book's been helpful so far!

There's a frown. nothing that she can see so far. So she turns back to the book, and flips through a few more pages. Maybe there's something...?

In the margins there is a doodle of a horse (with x's for eyes!) and the inscription: This is how you get one from two; sometimes a stick, but you’re looking for goo! It’s hiding in a place where you’d enjoy a hot brew!

Her frown deepened. Then she looked up and scanned the greenhouse again. Place to enjoy a good brew. After a moment her attention shifted to the dying rocking chair tucked in the corner. That's where she would of enjoyed a couple a tea, when the greenhouse was in it's prime. So with the book in hand, she goes to investigate,

It is old, rickety, and the cushion tied to it is nearly rotting off.

At least she wasn't planning on sitting on that. Just poking at it to see if it was the answer to her riddle. The cushion was lifted, and she peeked underneath.

Beneath the cushion is a nearly empty bottle of glue.

Nearly empty meant that it was still useful! She reached in to collect it, then scampered back over to the table and her pieces. She didn't wait, but intsead uncapped the glue, and immediately started gluing and piecing things together.

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress appears to peer over the table at the pot for a moment, then smiles up to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

There's a flicker of surprise at the appearance of the girl. She smiled at her though, and then her attention shifted back towards the rustle behind her. She watched the last little shiftings of the vine, before she grinned, and moved to step through the vine door!

The vines part to reach and grab gently... and pull you in... only to push you out the other side! There's no telling where you'll land in or around the RDI... but checking you pockets, you find all your dug treasures safe and sound.

THE END.

[Haunted House]

NETH

You walk into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

The goblin shakes her head and gets her bearing. “I’m not food…” the goblin heads to the book. She puts on a pair of gloves then picks it up and attempts to read it

The book is warm, almost as if having just been held. Opening it reveals a well written and beautifully illustrated guide on plants... and there are little notes and scribbles in the margin. Briefly, faded, a message: I forget my name sometimes...

It disappears, and is replaced by a doodle of a little girl holding a potted plant, and an inscription: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

neth ponders for a moment and groans “Thyme?” She replies

somewhere, a childish giggle.

“My mom makes these jokes all the time” the goblin still holding the book starts looking for the source of the giggle

It seems sourceless, alas! But in looking around, you spy a group of old pots with dead herbs, all labeled. Rosemary, Dill, Thyme, Sage, Oregano...

Neth closes the book. She holds it with one hand and walks to the pot marked thyme and gets a closer look at it

There is still lots of dirt in there.

She puts the book in her pocket and starts digging in the dirt

As you dig deeper and deeper, your fingers brush over something hard. When you pull it out, you find it is a shard of terra cotta, prettily painted with vines and the letter R in green.

“Hmm” she heads to inspect the terracotta

It seems to be broken from something larger.

She looks to see if the terracotta matches the shard she is carrying

There are a number of old pots on a side table. One is missing nearly a quarter, but what remains has green flowering vines painted on it. So pretty. Poor pot.

She goes to the one with the green flowering vines and inspects it more thoroughly

It is empty, and seems to match the shard perfectly in design.

She looks to put the shard back into the pot properly

It doesn't quite fit... as if it's part of the middle of some larger puzzle. But it looks right!

She nods and looks if the pot has some letters on it

No other letters. Alas!

Grumpy with that she turns her attention to the rocking chair and does a thorough inspection of it

It is old, rickety, and the cushion is starting to rot...

She removes that rotting cushion to see if anything’s under it

Beneath the cushion is an old bottle of glue, mostly used. Still some left, though!

she nods and takes the glue
She opens the book to see if any new clues popped up

In the margins there is a doodle of a sun, and the inscription: I am a god, a planet, and I measure heat. What am I?

neth ponders that for a moment
“Mercury?” The goblin sounds unsure of that one. “I hope those books were right..” she looks around the room to see if there’s anything that matches that answer

As you peer around, something shiny catches your eye in that garbage pile! Something metallic.

She heads to the shiny. She goes through it carefully. She’s concerned of finding loose mercury

Your hand closes around a... thermometer! You pull it out and it's totally intact... Whew! Thaaaank goodness. No poisoning for you today! As you move, however, the temperature reading seems to fluctuate wildly!

“That’s not normal…”

Pssssshhhhhhhhhh. Totally normal. Totally.

she looks at the thermometer closer for any other clues

It seems like a totally normal thermometer... But direction seems to affect temperature...

She moves it to the direction of the coldest point and walks towards it

You don't find anything of note...

Finding nothing she starts heading to the hottest point

The highest point of temperature seems to lead you to a pile of wooden garden stakes, neatly stacked.

she carefully goes through the pile looking for something irregular to it. But keeps the pile neat and tidy as she sorts

You come across another shard of terra cotta, this one painted with a pretty purple F.

she pockets it and opens the book for another clue potentially

There is a doodle of a pair of eyes peeking over a garden wall, and the inscription: Among the angels and cherubs one stands out; his terrible teeth hide a secret.

she heads to the statues and looks at the statues teeth

There are angels and cute lil chubby cherubs... A few bathing roman ladies without heads... and one very disgruntled and pouting fat little gargoyle with tiny wings and crossed arms. His face was very angery.

she looks at the gargoyle carefully especially it’s teeth

They're very sharp! But behind them, you see your prize. Just out of reach. Another shard!

she takes her back pack on and rummages through it to find a set of metal tweezers meant to collect samples for her experiments with it she attempts to use them to get the shard out without damaging the grumpy gargoyle “your not gonna come to life on me”

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrlllllllllllllll...
Sometimes sour moods transcend even flesh!

“Do you need a juice box?”

Huff.

“Are you grumpy cause you haven’t eaten anything for a while?”

There is a silence... But it seems maybe the gargoyle is... listening?

“I got some juice boxes. I got apple juice, grape juice and lemonade”
“If you don’t want any of those I got some jerky, Some goblin spiced cheese, some sour candies. “

Granite eyes... narrow, and there's a snif... sniff sniff....

neth pulls out the goblin spiced cheese since it is the strongest smelling item she has and brings it close to the gargoyle. “this is my favourite cheese would you like some of this?”

There's a pause... And the gargoyle spits out the shard to make way for cheese!!!

neth smiles and gives the gargoyle the cheese “now if you ever come back to this area come to my pizza place and I’ll give you more goblin cheese ok?”

Om nom nom nommmmmm... The gargoyle no longer looks quite so angry.

“Head to little neths pizzeria ok and I’ll make sure you get more”
She scoops up the shard and looks at it. Before she opens the book again

In the margins is a doodle of a few question marks, and the inscription: Riddles are hard. This is dumb. If you take a shovel to bed, you’ll earn your green thumb!
“I understand.” She heads over to the tools and does an inspection of them

There are a selection of spades... Some bigger, and one that is small enough for a child to use.

She looks at child sized spade
she proceeds to pick up that child sized spade (or neth sized spade) and heads to the garden bed and starts digging

As you dig you unearth from the dry dirt a couple of fake tin doubloons with pirate skulls on them, a little figure of a giraffe, and an old leather strap, perhaps from a small shoe. Digging deeper, you find a shard of pottery, painted with a red letter N.

Neth takes the pottery and places it with the others. She then gathers up all the other things cause they maybe important later. she looks at four shards and get the letter of the gargoyle shard since she didn’t see its letter

E

You set all your things on the table. It seems you have all the pieces! Will you attempt to put them together?

Yep!
neth looks at it carefully and pauses for a brief second. She arranges them to the word fern to see if they go together properly

They fit perfectly.

neth smiles and takes out the glue and glued em together
“Hey is your name fern?”

The room seems to warm, and the mists outside swirl around foggy windows.

she goes to the terracotta pot and fixes it

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress appears to peer over the table at the pot for a moment, then smiles up to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

she looks at the door then back to the gargoyle “do you want to come with me?”

The gargoyle is picking his teeth with an arm around one of the headless naked bathing ladies, and waves you on. Best to leave him to his own devices. Probably he'll meet up for pizza!

neth hopes the gargoyle does they seem cool

The vines of the door part, and seem to reach to pull and tug and pat your head before pushing you right on out into... Maybe the middle of the RDI. Or maybe on the front steps. Possibly through a window. It's a house. Its aim isn't great.

THE END.

[Haunted House]

DORAN

You walk into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

"Intriguing." Doran takes a slow walk around the greenhouse, examining the barren clay pots--but not picking them up yet--and the raised bed in the middle before stopping in front of the rocking chair and its attending statues. "Hmmmm." Turning, he lowers himself carefully to sit in it, hands lightly settled upon the armrests.

The chair groans mightily. Probably not the most stable piece of furniture. The seat's lumpy, too.

Stardreamer — 10/29/2022 10:21 PM
At least it hasn't collapsed on him. Standing once again, Doran turns and reaches down to lift up the cushion.

Beneath the cushion is a tube of glue, mostly used. Still some left, though.

"Glue, huh?" He picks it up, then looks down and crouches to peer at the garden statues surrounding the chair and himself.

There are a number of statues. Angels, little pudgy cherubs, bathing roman ladies, and a single angry little gargoyle with crossed arms and a cross scowl.

He checks to see if any of them are broken and in need of gluing together. If there are, he does so. If not, he rises and moves over to the disheveled seeding table.

All seem in one piece! On the table, near the detritus and trash, is the botany book.

Doran opens the book cover and starts slowly looking through it, page by page.

The book is well written and gorgeously illustrated, all by hand, a guide to plants. In the margins are little doodles. Briefly, a faded message catches your eye before it's gone... I forget my name sometimes...

And then it's gone, replaced by a cute little doodle of a sun, with an inscription: I am a god, a planet, and I measure heat. What am I?

"A god, a planet, and a measure of heat. Hmmmmm." He ponders that riddle for a moment.
Going through planets would be easiest. After a moment, he grins. "Mercury, a planet named for a Roman god and also an element used in thermometers."

There is a rustle, and a little hum. Like agreement. Who knows where it came from? Perhaps something might catch the eye...

He glances around, then looked back at the book before him, wondering if any of the doodles had changed. Flip New page.

As you glance, something in the garbage next to you glints like metal. There are more doodles...

His attention caught by the glinting metal, Doran reaches into the garbage to carefully retrieve whatever it is.

You pull out a thermometer! As you move, the temperature seems to fluctuate wildly.

He sets the thermometer down next to the book, then looks back to examine the doodles, and for any more riddles. Riddles are fun!

You find another doodle of a girl holding a potted plant, with the inscription: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

"That is a tough one." He looks around the seeding table, and then at any nearby pots, hoping for anything that might point him towards the answer.

There are a group of pots sporting the dessicated remains of old herbs, drooping and long dead. They are all labeled neatly. Rosemary. Sage. Oregano. Thyme. Dill.

Stardreamer — 10/29/2022 11:19 PM
"Ha. Thyme." He looked back down at the book, and particularly at the girl in the doodle, smiling. "Time cures all ailments and kills all things. Clever."

The pages rustle, and there is a directionless giggle. Yes, yes, I am very clever!

"This is fun... another riddle?" He flips pages one by one until he sees another doodle and/or riddle.

In another margin is a series of thick question marks, and the inscription: Riddles are hard. This is dumb. If you take a shovel to bed, you’ll earn your green thumb!

"Ah, well!" Setting the book down, he turns towards the raised plant bed, looking for a shovel. If he finds one, he starts digging. carefully.

As you dig you unearth a few items in the dry dirt. A tiny toy soldier, proud and noble, a dirty old rabbit's foot on a golden chain, and a piece of parchment with a roughly doodled puppy on it. As you keep digging, you come across a shard of terra cotta, painted with child-like flowering vines and a pretty red letter N.

Doran takes the items as he finds them and sets them to one side of the bed. Leaving the shovel stuck in the bed, he picks up the N shard and, carrying it, moves around the greenhouse, looking for any other visible pottery shards with letters on them.

None visible, but there is a pot that seems painted in a similar vines style on a table, missing nearly a quarter of itself.

He looks to see if the shard he has fits easily in missing section of the pot. Then he sets it down next to the pot and goes back to digging.

It fits perfectly right along the right edge! Vines match up and all. Digging only nets you a rotted old tulip bulb and what you think might be a cat turd. Petrified.

Going back to the pot and the shard, Doran applies some glue along the shard's edge and carefully places it back where it appears to belong. He checks to see how much of the pot is still missing.

There's still a bit missing, but the piece is big enough that you think maybe you've fixed it a quarter of the way!

He takes another walk around the greenhouse, taking up the shovel and carefully digging through the pile of garbage that spilled over from the seeding table onto the floor... checking in pots and on shelves, looking for more shards.
He also looks to see if the thermometer is still fluctuating.

The thermometer is mostly still, but seems a bit jittery.

He continues searching the garbage pile.

You're pretty sure you just touched something gross and wet just now. Hrrrrrk.

Good thing he was using the shovel to search through it, then.
If there are no shards in the garbage pile, Doran frowns and starts looking through the dirt in various pots. "My gut tells me there's a message of some sort to be put together." Beat. "And if there's nobody here to hear my, then I guess I'm just thinking aloud. Nothing crazy about that!"

Giggle, snort, giggle... The thermometer jumps on the table. The book shudders.

Doran grins and goes back over to the book. "Thank you for letting me know I'm not alone. Have you any clues for me?"

There is a doodle of a pair of eyes peeking over a garden wall and an inscription: Among the angels and cherubs one stands out; his terrible teeth hide a secret.

"Cherubs and angels, eh?" Doran turns his attention to the garden statues and walks back over there, crouching down again to give them all a closer look. He is specifically looking for any with obvious teeth.
The angry gargoyle catches his eye.

He so angery. Still scowling. Grump, grump, grump!

Doran checks to see if there's anything in the gargoyle's mouth. If nothing, he searches the ground at its feet, and tries to move it.

Behind teeth there is definitely something!

"Please don't bite me." He reaches in to see if he can extricate whatever it is.

Teeth seem to close together tighter. You can't get in there!

"Please let me get that out, kind sir! Especially if it's bothering you."

The gargoyle harumphs!!! What a sour mood.

It's a long shot, but Doran uses his gifts to send happy thoughts at the gargoyle.

...What sort of happy thought?

He sends a joke, something to perhaps get it to laugh. What do skeletons order at a restaurant? Spare ribs!

The gargoyle huffs a laugh, and his jaws part!

Doran quickly reaches in to take whatever is there.

You come away with all your fingers... and a shard! This one with a pink E.

Taking the shard over to the broken pot, Doran checks to see how it fits. If he can, he glues it in place.

It doesn't seem to readily fit just yet...

He sets it down next to the pot and scans the greenhouse once more for anything that stands out, then goes back to the book, slowly flipping pages.

You come across a little scribble. Hot and cold, hot and cold...

"Now that brings to mind the child's game of searching. Getting warm... warmer... now colder. If only I had something to measure heat." Grin. "Oh wait, I do." Taking up the thermometer, Doran moves slowly around the room, keeping an eye on the instrument and noting when the temperature reading rises.

The wildly fluctuating temperature seems to rise and rise and rise until... you reach a pile of neatly piled garden stakes.

Kneeling beside the pile, Doran begins to search through it, leaving the stakes still neatly piled to one side. No reason to make a mess, after all.

After a bit, you find another shard of pottery, a pretty purple F painted on it.

As a note, during his searches around the room earlier, he collected the toy soldier, rabbit's foot, and doodle parchment he found in the plant bed and put them in his pockets. He did not take the tulip bulb or the petrified cat turd.
Picking up the F shard, he goes back to the pot and tries to fit it in the open section, gluing it if it fits. If it does, he tries the E shard to see if it now fits.

F and E fit to the left side... And there only seems to be a sliver left between E and N.

He carefully lifts the pot and brings it over to the seeding table, just to keep everything together. "F-E... space... N." Is there anything before the F or after the N?

They fit right against the edges, and there are no letters before or after.

Doran examines the empty space between the E and N, trying to decide if it is large enough for another letter. "Fen? Fern? Hmmm."

The space is definitely large enough for another letter. The room warms slightly.

"We must find your forgotten name, for I fear that is the answer to this mystery. At least I hope it is something so relatively simple."
"Any further suggestions?" he asks as he turns another page or two.

Again, the little doodle of the girl with the pot, with the same inscription as before: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

"Thyme? Hmmm." Looking back up at the collection of pots, Doran takes the one labeled Thyme and looks inside it.

As you dig through the dirt, you find one last piece of terra cotta, with the letter R in green.

"Aha!" Lifting out the shard, he places it in the remaining space and, assuming it fits, glues it in place. "Fern."

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress appears to peer over the table at the pot for a moment, then smiles up to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

Doran walks over to the vine-door, checking for a handle or other means to open it, then stops and looks back into the greenhouse, smiling. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Fern. You are quite clever!"
Actually, before he leaves, he goes back to the seeding table and puts some dirt in the newly-mended pot. If there are any seeds, he plants one, and waters it if possible.
Then he heads to the door.

There is a soft giggle when the seed is planted, and when you are ready, the vines reach out and wrap and pull and... push you out! Wherever in the inn you land is a mystery, but when you check your pockets... you find all the things you dug up.

Yes. Even the petrified turd.

THE END.

[Haunted House]

RAI'IDEN

You walk into the yawning portal of the dilapidated house’s front door into darkness, and find yourself stepping into not a foyer, but a greenhouse! It is a spacious and old place with great glass windows, fogged so thick that it is impossible to see out beyond them into the grey outdoors. When you turn around, you see no door behind you, just more of the fogged glass. Around you are tables lining the outer walls with terra cotta and concrete pots filled with dirt and the remains of long dead vegetation. Most seem to have been decorative and destined for something great, some have the sort of stains that come from being handled with greasy hands, likely kitchen herbs. In the middle is a long raised bed, also filled with tools, dirt, and more plants, though these seem to have, at some point, been violently disturbed.

Scattered all around are tools and shards of pottery, wooden stakes to keep vines upright and a pile of debris overflowing from a seeding table to the floor. In a far corner is a single wooden rocking chair covered in a dry, rotten cushion missing a slat or two on the back surrounded by a number of small garden statues likely in for a long-overdue scrub before being set out for guests to enjoy. On the seeding table lies a single old and worn leather bound book titled Botany for Proper Young Ladies.

What will you do?

-Rai will examine the book.-

Upon opening the book, you find it to be a beautifully written and illustrated guide on plants. Along some of the page's margins are doodles and scribbles in a child's hand.

-A hand slithers along the doodles for but a moment and he closes the book, returning it to where he found it. Over to the chair and statues.-

The chair is very old. The statues are varied... angels and fat cherubs, a few bathing ladies in the roman style... and one very unhappy little gargoyle with crossed arms and a scowl and tiny wings.

-A smirk plays at the edges of Rai's pierced lips. "Yeah, I feel you, bud." He nabs the gargoyle, saving him from the uber happy looking group of cherubs and angels, and sits in the chair. Rock. Rock rock.-

The gargoyle... Ralaxes. And then fall asleep! His mouth opens in a gravelly snore, and something falls out, clattering to the ground.

-Rai blinks, and not wanting to disturb the sleeping gargoyle, summons a small stygian hole in the floor. An abyssal tentacle hoists the dropped object to his hand and withdraws back into the black hole as it closes behind it.-

The bit is a piece of pottery, a terra cotta shard with a painted pink E on it. Around the letter are prettily painted, if childish flowering vines.

-Are they the same childish doodles as say..in the book? Rai examines the letter closer, then looks around at the pots to see if any of them are missing pieces.-

The E looks quite similar to something a child might write in a book... Upon the table of pots, there are many, some broken, but only one seems to have any paint left on it. Thin green vines with pretty flowers. It is missing nearly a quarter, with no matching pieces around it.

-Rai slowly stands, holding the slumbering gargoyle like a baby in his left arm, and moves to compare the vinery on the piece to the pot of similar design.-

Same terra cotta. Same work. It is too small to fill the hole, but surely...

-"Hmm. Just one of a few, I bet." There must be more pieces, he thinks to himself, and begins looking towards the raised bed and the cacophany of rummaged through tools and such.-

From somewhere, directionless, is a tiny snort, and a childish giggle.

Rai blinks at the giggle and immediately scans the surroundings for any changes.

A rustle of pages.

-Eyes narrow ever so slightly and that head shakes slow. Focusing the void end of the aether into his veins, the rings in those eyes turn from azure to crimson as they scan for non-corporeal spirits. He moves towards the sound of rustling pages.-

The book has opened on its own to a beautifully illustrated page detailing some plant. In the margins, a doodle, and the fading words: I forget my name sometimes...

Rai blinks as he reads it and starts putting the pieces together. He flips pages really examining the drawings and messages.

On one page is a doodle of a sun and the inscription: I am a god, a planet, and I measure heat. What am I?

-"Mercury, of course." Rai's brow quirks at the riddle.-

The page rustles, and the sun doodle's eyes seem to move in the direction of... all that rubbish.

-A cloud of cold air escapes his lips, surprisingly fading fast as it really isn't terribly warm, and he moves in the direction of the eyes. He begins sifting through this and that.-

Something metallic glints. A thermometer.

-"Quicksilver, of course." Rai's brow quirks at the thermometer as he lifts and examines it.-

As the thermometer moves... the temperature fluctuates.

-He moves towards the warmest point.-

The mercury seems to rise right when you reach a pile of wooden stakes!

-More thinking. Taloned digits move the stakes, looking through and at them.-

There is a clatter, and a piece of terra cotta falls to the floor, dislodged. This one is painted with a purple letter F.

-E and F. Rai smirks and immediately his mind starts formulating names as he compares the two pieces, maybe Fred, maybe Derf. No this isn't serious thoughts but, you get the gest. These pieces must be laid out everywhere.

The two seem to fit together. F, E.

-We can check Derf off the list. Fred, too. Alright then, Rai goes and sifts through the seeds and stuff at the seeding table. Felicia.... Fernanda. Fear.-

There are a few pots at the table with dead vegetation. They seem to be nothing more than old herb pots.

-Herb or herb? He huffs and lifts the thermometer once more to see if it has changed.-

The thermometer seems to have gained some stability, now. The pages rustle almost impatiently, and there is the softest sound of a stomping foot.

-Cross Herb off the list, too. Wait. What was that? He thinks to himself as he moves towards the sound.

There's a tiny gasp, and another rustle of the book's pages.

"Alright," he examines the book once again, this time whispering under his breath, "..I'm working on it.. Fe."

In the margins is another doodle. A little girl holding a potted plant, and another riddle: What herb cures all ailments, and kills all things?

"Thyme." A smirk blesses his lips again and he glances around for anything tied to the herb: seed packets, growth of the plant, anything really.

There are a group of pots with dead vegetation within; Rosemary. Dill. Oregano. Sage. Thyme.

-He searches the thyme pot.-

Looking through the dirt, you find another shard! This with a pretty green R.

Rai compares the piece to the rest, then absentmindedly looks over at the book.

A little inscription appears next to a doodle of a number of question marks. Riddles are hard. This is dumb. If you take a shovel to bed, you’ll earn your green thumb!

"Great." To the raised bed, a hand shovel is snagged, and he begins to dig into it.

As you dig you unearth a number of things! An old dried out tulip bulb, a few fake coins, a tiny pillbox rusted shut... and a shard with the letter N, in red.

"Fern..." He lifts the pillbox, digs a talon betwixt the seam and breaks it loose.

Inside is a small lock of curly red hair, tied with a little blue ribbon.

"Did you die here?" Rai'iden looked to that book once more, taking shard and rouge lock, as well as the coins and tulip bulb.

There is a giggle, and a rustle of fabric that dashes just behind you. Then... nothing.

Of course Rai turns and looks towards the fabric, nearly as swiftly as it is rustled.

A page in the book was gently wafting back down, as if having been disturbed by the woosh of air.

Rai stops the page, and lifts it for examination.

An inscription appears, fading into view: This is how you get one from two; sometimes a stick, but you’re looking for goo! It’s hiding in a place where you’d enjoy a hot brew!

Hmm. He moves back towards the rocking chair, and gazes upon it a bit more closely. Glue, perhaps?

The seat did seem a bit lumpy in the cushion, now that you think of it...

He lifts the cushion.

There beneath, a small bottle of glue, nearly empty.

Rai stares at the glue for some minutes. A puff from his vape and a breath or more later he realizes what must be done. "Oh. Oh yeah. That makes sense." He goes over to the pot with the shards, and simply glues them back to the pot.

There is a long silence and a small girl in an old dress appears to peer over the table at the pot for a moment, then smiles up to you before disappearing. There is a rustle behind you, and when you turn, a vine has grown along the wall, forming something like a door.

Rai quirked a brow and turned, noting the girl with a respectful nod. "Glad I could be of some help, young one. Just follow the path to the source and all will be well."

Stark eyes followed the sound of the vines' movement and he made his way through the impromptu doorway.

The vines part and some touch as you pass, but do not impede. When you leave, you find you still clutch that small lock of red hair.

THE END.