Less Than Zero
There once lived a monk who practiced a quiet, humble life. He held no more than he could carry, ate only simple meals to sustain himself, and wore only a plain robe, which he fixed again and again as it wore down. He travelled to tell the world that greed brought no happiness, to ease the money-fettered minds of all who would listen.
One day, as he was reclining against the splintered wooden side of an abandoned home, a young girl approached him.
“Mister, mister,” the girl spoke with great alarm, “there’s someone around here! She’s been taking lots of little things and none of us can stop her! You don’t have much, so you should get out of here!”
“Ahh,” the monk smiled, hearing the girl’s story. “I appreciate your warning, yet I have nothing to fear. What could such a being possibly take?”
That was the moment when the monk became bald, a patch from his robe vanished, and the bread he had considered for his night’s dinner left its basket, all in quick succession. In retrospect, the monk thought, this was a good lesson: the walls have ears, and strange creatures may lurk before or behind them.
The Deviation on Storm Mountain
It’s well-known to every Person with a lay of the land that Storm Mountain is a terribly brusque place. The storm that rages around it makes it difficult to navigate. Most People are adapted to one or more particular kinds of weather, but virtually any can occur on Storm Mountain. That being said, all of the conditions individually resemble weather you might encounter elsewhere on the continents. Or do they?
Soil samples taken from the base of the mountain, when examined, indicated a curious elemental balance: with divine and psionic help, it was determined that the soil had, indeed, been battered by a large amount of free-falling acid. Acid rain, in the sense of weather that can burn fur, flesh, hide and shells with equal efficiency, is virtually unheard of.
However, folk stories sourced from south of Merriley imply that this did indeed happen on Storm Mountain thousands of years ago! Survivors at the time stated that their friends and family embarked to cross Storm Mountain searching for indications of the witch that lived there previously. However, they were confronted by a storm of burning acid!
These details were confirmed by an Avia named Amelie who joined the expedition and returned its sole survivor. Her wings were irreparably damaged by acid burns, and she herself had inhaled a great deal of volcanic material. According to letters written by Amelie to her family, when the storm began, the expedition was in the midst of it. She only escaped by being the fastest member of the expedition; others were unable to leave the storm before the acid proved fatal.
Though there is no conclusive evidence that this actually happened, combining these historical records with what we know now about the soil tells a strongly-worded story: Storm Mountain is even more unpredictable than the stories say. Forget bringing weather gear: don’t try crossing it at all!
Lament of Coin
Long ago, in an odd place outside the Forests where many People mingled, four players sat around the table of a card game in progress. A Sekir bounty hunter, a Feather Folk merchant, a Yutu farmer, and a mysterious creature of a type that none of them recognized, but who claimed to be a Person; the others had not questioned him further, for his wager was as good as anyone else’s.
Though each one had been deep in concentration, the creature suddenly tipped his hand forward, though not enough for the other players to see it, and laughed with a smile on his face.
“I’ve got to say, this hand is really bad…” The creature spoke with a clear and bright voice. He looked at the other players in turn, whose expressions twitched with tiny motions, then to the Sekir. “See, I don’t mean to be rude, but I think you stacked the deck. Did you?”
The Sekir raised his voice. “Yes! I mean…” He flinched, flicked the end of his tail, and spoke again. “Yes.” His eyes narrowed.
“Well, at least you admit it. I mean, that seems pretty damning to me. What about you two?” The sailor turned his gaze, and looked back -- in particular at the merchant.
As the most keen on doing so of the four summoned the bouncers, the Sekir silently stood, slammed one fist against the table scattering the cards, and slashed at the creature. The creature ducked his one-eyed head, raising it only once the tavern's rough-pawed enforcers had crowded around, to smile.
“Y’know what they say, don’t you? Cheating doesn’t pay. Sometimes, I guess it’s true.”
An Ounce of Prevention: Keeping Your Things With You
Occasionally, you will lose items despite taking great care to remember where they are, or organize them neatly. This is thought to be the work of the demon of the void, who is nearly impossible to detect and stop. Sometimes she will take items outright; other times she will simply move them.
To help find items that the demon of the void has moved, paint all of your items a bright colour or distinct pattern. A pink house key is much more difficult to lose.
You may also physically tie together some of your items. The demon of the void typically tampers with single items, and may find taking multiple objects connected by a loose mess of wire to be less appealing.
Note also that following these tips may anger the demon, as she wants to play her tricks upon you. If you are too vigilant about preventing your items from being lost, she may take them forever, never to be found.