03-13-2017, 11:12 PM
A note has been left on the board in the town's centre, bearing script that has been written in a neat, lilting hand. The text is a dusky red, and the very edges of the paper are faintly singed.
'Friends. Ye who have been so kind as to draw deals with me, promising your help when I have need of you. Some of you know what it is that I seek, many of you do not. Rest easy, for I have never done you any harm in the years in which you have borne my visits.
You who have promised me your assistance...and those who would like to offer theirs for other reasons, I have a task for you.
One among you has come forward to ask about this...prophecy. I do not know what it means. But...I do know a place where you might find the answers you seek.
There are things in this land that you know nothing of. Old things, strange things. Horrifying things. These things come together to form a story of this place...and perhaps, if you can find that tale, and understand, you might be able to stop the past from repeating itself.
Have you felt the teeth of winter on your throat? Do you feel their death-grip tightening?
Do you truly believe that it will stop?
Come. Find me. Twelve days hence, I will bring a map, and show you where to go.
You must find the past before it finds you.'
The note is not signed, but a small imprinted seal rests at the bottom above the charred edge, marked in red and white ink. It looks like a fox.
'Friends. Ye who have been so kind as to draw deals with me, promising your help when I have need of you. Some of you know what it is that I seek, many of you do not. Rest easy, for I have never done you any harm in the years in which you have borne my visits.
You who have promised me your assistance...and those who would like to offer theirs for other reasons, I have a task for you.
One among you has come forward to ask about this...prophecy. I do not know what it means. But...I do know a place where you might find the answers you seek.
There are things in this land that you know nothing of. Old things, strange things. Horrifying things. These things come together to form a story of this place...and perhaps, if you can find that tale, and understand, you might be able to stop the past from repeating itself.
Have you felt the teeth of winter on your throat? Do you feel their death-grip tightening?
Do you truly believe that it will stop?
Come. Find me. Twelve days hence, I will bring a map, and show you where to go.
You must find the past before it finds you.'
The note is not signed, but a small imprinted seal rests at the bottom above the charred edge, marked in red and white ink. It looks like a fox.