Whispers at The Flickering Lantern
#1—Impfestation
The Flickering Lantern, the coziest tavern in Ronellan, stirred with unease.
A farmer slammed his mug down, ale spilling. “Horns in the granary,” he swore, “eyes too bright, fingers too many. Scratching at the sacks like they knew what was inside. It’s an impfestation!”
The priest muttered over his ale, words more warning than prayer. “Fragments of the Nether. They skitter, they steal—then vanish. What they leave behind isn’t coin, but something rarer.”
By the hearth, Kaori strummed a chord that rang too sharp. “They never keep what they take,” she sang softly. “Always leave a spark behind. No two alike. Each gleams like it’s alive. But don’t blink, Mortal… miss a beat, and it’s gone.”
In the corner, Demetrios scribbled furiously, chasing whispers faster than ink could dry. His quill snapped. The page stayed empty.
The crowd fell quiet. Even the cat refused to move.
Mortal… will you notice the trail?
Tomorrow, a shadow may step out from beneath the tables—grinning, claws first.
#2—Squeak, at Your Service
The fire dimmed. Shadows stretched.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A claw scraped across wood. The grin came next, wide and wicked.
“They think they saw me yesterday. Fools.”
The imp leaned close, teeth catching the firelight. “Weekly rounds, I make. Treasures, tricks, who knows where they’ll fall?”
Patrons pressed forward, caught between fear and curiosity. The farmer crossed himself. Kaori’s fingers stilled on the strings.
Squeak laughed, high and sharp.
The tavern held its breath. Then silence. Only the scrape of claws fading into the dark.
And you, Mortal—will you follow the sparks?
Tomorrow, perhaps, a song may rise to chase the echo.
# 3 — Music Over Ale
Kaori’s voice drifted like smoke through the Flickering Lantern.
“Implings carry rarities no merchant dares touch,” she murmured between chords. “They appear… they vanish… but for those who know where to look, the rewards are worth the wait.”
Her fingers lingered on the strings, striking a thoughtful chord. “Seven days, they say. Seven days to decide… after that, they’re gone.”
Demetrios’ quill trembled. “Just opportunity… if you can find it.”
The tavern leaned in, even the mugs were quiet. Sparks flickered at the edge of vision. Perhaps for you.
Mortal… will you follow the music?
#4—Sparks in the Code
The Lantern’s lamps sputtered, flaring then fading to embers.
Demetrios hunched over his notes, ink spilling like molten gold. “They’re building something… not scraps, not a hoard… something larger. Each spark feels… connected.”
Kaori’s chord bent and twisted, tangled in the sparks. “They’re weaving a pattern,” she murmured. “Not finished… but growing. Piece by piece… brighter with every step.”
From the rafters, Squeak cackled. “Shiny-shiny, never plain! No dull crumbs, no common baubles. Only bright things, Mortal. Rare things. Not everyone’s coin will do, oh no…”
The hum deepened. Something waited, shimmering just out of reach.
Tomorrow, Mortal… a secret will be revealed. Will you be ready?