Two days ago, I was whelmed nearly to earth by the violence of a sea driven storm. Struggling to make way to shelter, I stumbled along the shore until nearly full dark. Soaked and half blinded by the downpour, I was suddenly brought to a complete stop by something solid and unyielding.

Feeling my way along the obstruction..I soon surmised it was a cottage or hutment of some kind and continued around the corner of the building. A few steps further brought me to an entrance..joy kindled at that! Knocking and pounding I cried to whomever might be within.."Sanctuary! please for this storm benighted Ranger."

The door suddenly gave way and I tumbled through, falling to my knees. Wiping the wet hair from my face I blearily perceived a welcome sight. Across the room a fireplace blazed, both lighting the room and sending out waves of most welcome and comforting warmth.

Rising I made my courtesies to the house-holders..and we all took a moment to recover from my precipitous entrance into the cottage. My benefactors turned out to be a large family of fishing folk..such as one would find in any remote area of Vestai.

They were most eager to guest me and did all that was seemly to see to my emmediate comfort. A place was made for me by the fireplace and soon my toes were toasting nicely and my hands were busy conveying hot stew and bread to my mouth. Over-joyed even beyond what seemed reasonable for an isolated folk, they all plied me with questions about my travels and news of the larger world.

A pleasant time ensued for all as I regaled them with what scraps of news and rumor I had garnered in my wavering mostly lost way down from my home in the Northern Plains of Vestai to MysticShadowsInn. The folks were most interested in my need to meet a Keeper or perhaps a Physical Mage and I showed them the green gemstone that had come to be in my possession through uncanny means.

Finally as we were exchanging new verses to the bawdy "Trollish Anties" song, my yawns overwhelmed my manners. The children of the house had long since nodded off wherever they happened to be at the moment and the goodwife was busy gathering them up and laying them in their pallets.

She and her husband held a whispered conference and she came to me, smiling but I thought somewhat nervous. She gestured about the room at all the sleepers and said."As thee may ken we are a large brood and must needs sleep about the room but as our guest we would take it most seemly if thou would avail thineself of the sleeping cupboard in yon corner..though thou will share the comfort with our old gramarm..fear not for she will nae disturb thine rest."

Nodding and smiling the goodwife led me to the corner bed cupboard, tucked me in and drew the curtains closing off the rest of the room. It was a cozy nook, and I was pleased to remove my leathers and get down to my smallclothes. Composing myself for sleep I noticed that 'grammarm' was uncommonly quiet, no snores, no twitchings,..I felt fortunate in sharing a sleeping space with such a placid companion.

Morning light filtered grayly through the curtains and I dressed quietly not wishing to disturb the elderly person who had granted me such a night of quiet rest. I could hear the household stirring and children waking as children always do in full voice for the day. Opening the bedcurtains , I paused to look back at the old gran, the incoming light was strengthened and I beheld the still form that had lain next to me the whole nightlong.

Shrieking with abhorrence I leaped like an arrow from the bow out of that benighted place! The goodwife came running to my aid, though she knew full well what had alarmed me. Old gramarm would e'er be a pleasantly silent bed friend, for the woman was well and truly dead and dressed in her grave raiment!

Somewhat shame-faced the good wife explained that it was a custom amongst her clan to have a stranger sleep one night beside the newly dead. To symbolically assume any debt or burden the departed one may have left undischarged before Lord Spectre gathered them. I was near to swooning with distaste and abhorrence at this point, for it is most assuredly not a custom amongst my people!

We are ever at pains to see our loved ones off to Lord Spectre's demense with as little contact between the quick and the dead as possible. Even those who in loving remembrance must dress their kin for the final journey, undergo a three-day ritual cleansing and blessing by a shaman afterward.

The folk were most apologetic when I explained the counter customs of my own people to them and tried, with much discussion, to think of some way to show their contriteness. Finally a plan was agreed upon. Some of the details I did not ken as they lapsed into their own dialect. A youngster was sent off on an errand but soon returned leading a shaggy brown pack pony, laden with a empty pack and wearing the harness of the MysticShadowsInn stables.

More explanation followed, the pony was found wandering the strand..(So they said) and must have strayed from some caravan. If I wished to make a speedy ascent over the VineGrowth Pass to the Forest of Shadows and to my destination at the Inn, I could return the pony. He would surely lead me safely, as all animals know the quickest route to their home stable.

I was in a fever to begone from that benighted place and hastily agreed to return the pony, barely able to restrain the frissons of shivers that traveled up and down my spine remembering my night's lodging.