While the rest of us were babbling about the price of grapes, [Elder Witch] Griza made preparations for curse removal. Her brand of magic doesn't involve meticulously drawn sigils drawn out with programmatic conditional flow, but instead uses rather more wibbly rituals.

"In order to remove this curse, you must perform a ritual punishment under my observation," the goblin Witch announces.

"That doesn't sound very good," Basalt says.

"It is a ritual punishment, not an actual punishment," Griza assures us. "This is a symbolic absolvement of your crimes."

"What do we need to do?" Anise asks.

"Take these mushrooms I collected," Griza says, gesturing toward a basket full of black finger-like fungi. "One for each of you. Just take them and hold it in your hand and let it stick out like so. Yes."

Once we have our weird, gross mushrooms in hand, Griza holds up her staff and begins to chant a lengthy Incantation in the Goblin tongue.

"Fingers of folly, fingers of pain," Griza intones. "Let these fingers of fungus bear the mark of your crime. From the dark they grew, and to the dark they take your mark. Let your souls be absolved, that those of the sky never know what you did."

As she speaks, the markers on our auras shift. I watch in fascination as the "thief" aspects staining our auras flow into the finger-like mushrooms and leave us clear. Magic can affect souls. Of course it can. Why did I ever doubt that? Necromancy isn't a school of magic that affects souls. It's a school that uses souls as its medium, like Wizardry uses sigils and Incantation uses spoken words. Magic types are how you use magic, not what you do with it. The method, not the outcome.

I am too curious for my own good sometimes. I want to know everything. I want to see how everything works. And yet… I think it's getting in the way a bit. The thing is, I already know how everything works. All I have to do is ask my past selves. And for most things, I don't even need to ask that far. I'm surrounded by friendly people older than me who are happy to share their wisdom.

I think I need to focus more on doing than knowing. I'm curious, so curious, and conceptual energy is a beautiful and magnificent thing I could watch endlessly. But the system rewards you for demonstrating your skills, not simply knowing things. And everything you do defines you.

"Glad that's taken care of," Milo says, turning his attention to the notes he'd written about the lockbox's sigils. "Now if only I knew how these markings caused curses. Wizardry is a fascinating topic and one I fear I know nothing about."

"I couldn't tell you, either," Grandma Kestrel says. "I might be a Wizard but traps and curses aren't my specialty."

"I'm definitely going to learn as much Wizardry as I can when I get the chance," I say.

"I've been learning as much of every type of magic as I can," Milo adds. "Each village I've negotiated trade agreements with has been willing to give a few pointers for friends."

Grandma Kestrel grins. "If you're looking to take the nerdiest path of an Archmage, you've got your work cut out for you."

"Why is that nerdy?" Milo wonders. "Knowledge is literally power."

"Oh, I don't mean it as an insult," Grandma Kestrel says. "There's eight paths to power, they say, and an Archmage is trying to walk all eight of them at once."

"It seemed to work out well enough for your founder," Milo says. "The [Tempest Archmage]. I met her once."

"It was inspirational to say the least," I say. "Though I was probably more impressed with her ship."

"Man, Grandma Apple visited while I was away and I missed her!? Now I'm jealous."

Uncle Hawk's party shows up at the door hauling in a pair of giant salamanders for dinner.

"Kestrel!" Uncle Hawk says, going to embrace her. "Fancy seeing you down here!"

"I had to come say hi to my favorite cousin while I was in the area," Grandma Kestrel says.

They wander off to find somewhere to catch up.

"Does Garnet get quests?" I wonder quietly, watching the red-headed dwarf woman prepare dinner.

[Yes.]

"Why?" I ask.

[When she's confused about something or isn't sure what to do next, I can give her a push and help advance her skills. This world is very different from what she is used to.]

"So you're just giving her quests to… help her?" Jade says.

[Yes. Issuing quests is not free. But I am making plenty of essence now and can afford to invest in our Hearthkeeper's development. I do not give her quests to do things I know she would not want to do.]

"I still don't know why Farlow might have seriously thought I would subjugate you," Jade says.

"A gamble," I say. "Sometimes you just roll the dice even knowing you will only win if you get the best possible roll. What happened to the experience from the failed quest?"

[I took it,] Hebron replies.

"Will Farlow be mad about that?" Jade asks.

[Perhaps. But it lost.]

"Hebron, how do you choose who to incarnate?" I wonder.

[The best match is located for the essence provided.]

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"So we just need to be sure to provide the sorts of essence we want," I say. "Is there a way to see details about who we're going to get before pulling that lever, aside from what's on the display?"

[There is not. If you wish the spawner to display additional information, you will need to modify it yourself. I do not have those sorts of upgrades unlocked.]

"Alright."

We gather up the materials we intend to use and head for the dwarf spawner. Basalt carved another woman, this one with a feminine braided beard and slightly sharper features. Presumably he didn't base this lady on his mom's appearance.

One gold coin, along with a handful of copper and silver coins from different places, provide the impetus to make sure we have someone with strong mercantile inclinations, but we don't stop there. We pile up notes and ledgers, much of which Milo provides. Some writing implements, a small pouch, and an old pack get added as well.

"Milo, did you keep notes in French?" I ask, looking through the papers he's adding.

"Certainly," Milo says. "And English, Common, and Goblin, obviously. She would do well to be able to speak as many languages as we can give her."

"Oh, I have a couple things I don't need," Grandma Kestrel adds, pulling some glossy magazines out of her bag of holding. "Old magic item catalogues from Sustern Skymote, written in Gnomish."

"Fantastic," Milo says.

"There was only so much junk you could conceivably give as naming day presents," I say wryly.

Grandma Kestrel places them on the stack. "Well, it's still a naming day present, just for someone I haven't met yet."

We have more than enough essence just from the gold coin alone, and the readout says that we will be getting a [Dwarven Merchant]. After double-checking to make sure we haven't forgotten anything, we let Milo do the honors and pull the lever this time.

I keep a close eye upon the astral plane as the statue transforms from stone to flesh.

An astral vine appears out of nowhere and plants its roots in Hebron's crystal spire, and a new sucker sprouts into the dwarven woman taking shape in front of me. While Basalt's astral tree is comprised entirely of suckers, this one is mixed between those and fruits, indicating that sometimes she has spawned as an adult and sometimes has been grafted into a baby.

I try to identify what name she has been given before she introduces herself, comparing it against the rock information I'd memorized. My best guess is… Quartz? Crystal?

Skills increased: Recollection (Astral Vision), Clairvoyance (Naming), Knowledge (Geology), Enhanced Mind (Mental Encyclopedia)

The dwarf woman blinks into consciousness. "Wow, everyone is looking at me very expectantly but I don't know any of you. I've been given the name Crystal Hebron Tempest Tiganna and there's words in my head suggesting I introduce myself."

I, Basalt, Jade, Milo, and Aunt Rosemary introduce ourselves. The new dwarf is speaking in Common, perhaps at Hebron's behest.

Crystal rubs her blonde beard and chuckles. "Huh. What glorious facial hair. And it's so soft! Ah, the words in my head are telling me you might want to know a bit about my past life. Fine, I was getting to that! Let me stroke my beard a bit more and I'll tell them my whole sordid life story! Ahem."

Basalt chuckles heartily. "Don't let Hebron rush you. It's just trying to help. I know it was confusing to me at first, too."

"My previous name was Marguerite, but Crystal is a lovely name for a dwarf. A dwarf! Heh, to think I've been reincarnated as a creature from mythology. I was born in Rouen, France in the year of our Lord 1472, and died in 1545. My husband and I were merchants. He was a people person, and could convince anyone to buy anything, but numbers were not his strength, bless him. I kept the ledgers and made sure he didn't bankrupt us through poor math."

"Hopefully you will like it here," Milo says. "There are many exciting trade opportunities. I will get you up to speed on them once you have settled in."

"And I will help guide you and answer whatever questions you doubtless have," Aunt Rosemary says.

With the thief markers removed, we split up again. We leave Crystal in the capable hands of Milo, Garnet, and Aunt Rosemary, and Basalt gets to work on the next statue. Griza remains in Hebron for the moment as well. The rest of us return to the surface after spending a few days there, and from there it will be out of the forest to Nefern.

As we emerge from the cave entrance, though, I spot an aura nearby. Alas, I can't see through other auras, so the plants on the surface kept me from spotting her until she was in line of sight of my physical eyes as well. A middle-aged woman dressed in a brown leather waistcoat with entirely too many buckled belts, each of them bearing a bag or holster. Is that a pistol of some sort?

Name (Insect?) (?) Flux Tiganna Category Person Race Human Gender Female Class Nimble Aethernaut Rank Epic Aspect Wind Mood Annoyed Disposition Wary

Skills increased: Clairvoyance (Naming, Aspect Analysis, Aura Sight), Enhanced Senses (Flash Observation)

"Who are you?" Kestrel wonders, not having seen the picture in the locket.

"The name is Bee Tresco Flux Tiganna," the woman says. "And given how terrified some of you just got, I'm guessing you know why I'm here. Oh, relax. I'm not going to hurt kids, no matter how sticky-fingered they are."

"Oh," I say.

"What are you doing here?" Kestrel asks.

"Those adventurers were trying to play bait over in Amroth. I didn't feel like playing their game, so I came to look into things myself. They obviously weren't the ones who grew a tree right in the path of my son's ship, either. None of them had the right aspects for that. Most likely, it was your Epic Druid. And frankly I don't feel like messing with her."

"They're going to be so disappointed," Anise comments. "Uncle Falcon has been irritating ever since Uncle Hawk beat him to Epic."

"Look, I know my son had his fingers in things that some people find objectionable. You destroyed product, stole a skyboat, and your aunt protected you when my son decided to interfere. Then you did a very thorough job salvaging his ship. My son was an idiot for blindly rushing off into the interior of a domain he didn't have a local for without knowing what he was up against. If he'd asked me, I'd have told him to stay out of it. It's not worth it. You wouldn't have been worth much experience and he didn't know the ranks of your allies. I don't begrudge you stealing the pinnace or salvaging the wreckage of the sloop. I am, however, interested in retrieving my son's personal items. Return those and I will let the matter drop."

"I didn't expect you to be… reasonable," I say.

"I'm an aethernaut, kid. It's a dangerous world, and once you start on the path of revenge, it doesn't stop until someone's Mythical ancestor shows up out of the blue and punts you into the Void. Saw it happen to a colleague once. No thanks."

"I'm not happy about the floj," I say. "It's annoying."

Bee shrugs. "Sure. You're welcome to keep messing with our operations. We make it in Flux. Please feel free to stop by and attempt to blow up our facilities. My grandkids could use the extra experience."

"Is floj flammable?" Anise asks.

"Oh, it's extremely volatile in its unaspected state," Bee says with a laugh.

She's very probably a terrible person and involved in some activities I find abhorrent. But I see no reason not to simply agree to her reasonable request. I pull Lance Tresco's locket out of my bag and offer it to her.

Bee takes it and opens it up to check it. "Was he wearing this when he died?"

"No," I say. "It was in the lockbox."

"Idiot child," Bee mutters, snapping the locket closed. "Not you. My son. I have three other children and eight grandchildren. One of those would appreciate having their mom's or grandma's protection more." She tucks it into her coat.

Bee goes over to a boat parked nearby and hops on board. Smaller and sleeker than an aether pinnace, the boat smoothly lifts into the air and shoots off into the sky at an enviable speed.

Skills increased: Discipline (Composure), Persuasion (Meekness)

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