Grub Harvest

513MoGrHa

The village of Ponkae was rumoured to be place of history, tradition and the most intoxicating food and drinks known throughout the region. As the party travelled through the wet rainforest roads they crossed many people moving through the underbrush with small hand-axes and two long thin reeds. As they moved about the ferns and decaying logs they would cut at the decaying matter and, occasionally, would excitedly yell out to those near by.

A flurry of activity later would see many axes hewing into the wood, before the reed like tongs would dash out and pick out a squirming red creature from the wood. Quickly deposited into little containers they carried on their hips the village folk would continue until there was nothing more of the wood before moving onto the next decaying wood matter and continuing the search.

‘They are hunting for Moon wave grubs.’ a voice said from near by. A woman who was nearly invisible as she moved from the log she was crouched on. Dressed in a long cloak and had that consisted of moss she blended nearly perfectly in with what she perched on. ‘My name is Naya and I am a watcher of this years harvesters. They search for the grubs that feed Ponkae’s harvest.’ she smiled toothily at them. ‘Now, you don’t mean any trouble for these fine harvesters do you or I’d have to cause you some trouble about now?’

As the party continued to speak with her as she moved along the path keeping one eye on the party and the other watching the surrounding area. As she spoke to them another call went out and she looked toward the harvesters who had made it. ‘Sounds like there’s something to investigate. I may see you at Ponkae if the forest wishes us to meet again!’ she called as she nimbly darted towards the call to see what was wrong.

It was not too long until they had begun to descend the large steps that would take them into the village. The sound of running water and insects could be seen everywhere where large trees with strange growths from their branches and trunks could be seen on the many tiered fields that surrounded the valley of the village. As they passed from one large jungle trees canopy to the next they were drizzled with the water droplets that came from above, it was always wet here from what they could tell. A large river cut the village in half and it took a steady stream of water out of the village and further down the valley.

As they passed some of the farms they could be seen taking large, arm sized silken cocoons out of the growths in trees and passing them to another famer near by who lay the quivering masses carefully into baskets before carrying them towards the village. The whole village was a whirl of motion and nearly every tree had someone harvesting large cocoons from it.

However one patch of trees was drying, large strips of black fabric swung from branches and no one touched trees despite it having the same swollen growths as the others. As the party moved deeper into the village they soon forgot the trees as the sights and scents of Ponkae caught up with them and they were surrounded by people selling silken products, pungent smelling oils, strong beers and the sweetest smelling foods.

Like the Dead

512MoLiDe

As the party approached the village of Launghui the sight of ships docked along the piers was unsettling. Known for the fish that it brings in by the net-load from the bay the village had quickly become a destination for people who enjoyed the mild flavoured fish.

However as the party neared the gate, consisting of a set of giant shark teeth, they heard no reply to their calls for admittance. Despite their multiple attempts it wasn’t until they tried the gate that they found it able to swing inwards. Beyond the gates revealed a disheartening sight. Not a single soul was found to be moving around the houses or buildings. The fish market itself was empty with gulls being startled as they approach and flying off towards the sea.

Everywhere they looked they saw closed doors, shuttered windows and the signs of abandonment. By choice or by force it was yet to be determined. That was until they happened across an open window which revealed a family still, faintly breathing and pale in their beds. The same sight was found throughout the village.

Every adult and child was still as the dead, breathing so shallowly that it appeared as if they weren’t breathing at all and unable to be roused by magic or intervention. A sign from the other side of the road drew the parties attention to find a girl, perhaps in her early teens, stumbling along the road as she moved with as much haste as possible.

Approaching her and asking had had happened received a chilling answer. ‘The whole village never woke after they brought back the last catch. I didn’t sleep that night too excited for the market following day yet, no one was awake to sell the fish nor open the gate. I was scared so I didn’t open it despite the traders banging on the door and calling out. When I found my courage I opened the gate to get help but they had all left. They have not been back since.’

Despite talking the girl never stopped jogging, always moving along the smooth stony surface of the road. Something was foul in the village and the party insisted on stopping the girl from jogging as her shoes were close to being worn through. She protested and pleaded. ‘No, I must not stop. If I stop I will sleep, if I sleep I will not wake. The wakeless sleep has cursed the village again. My grandmother told me about it when I was younger. A curse that came from when we offended a witch disguised as a merchant – she made the village fall asleep. It wasn’t until we appeased the witch did our villagers start to wake. But the merchants were not displeased last they were here. We were all asleep before they arrived. All but me.’