Mar 25, 2021
This episode carries content warnings for human death, teeth, knives, possession, human branding
One day of strange occurrences is, in some ways, a blessing. Good dinner time conversation. The stuff of campfire stories. Two ill-fated days? That’s a warning and a courtesy. The troubled cough that precedes illness. An opportunity for you to prepare for worse. But three cursed days in a row? That’s where you really have to worry, because it ain’t just one thing. Three cursed days in a row is as often the end to a little township as it is the sign of a great dynasty’s rise. With one or two, you’ve got a hex, maybe some begrudged witch or local spirit who wasn’t paid its due. With three, you’ve got a blank page. And from writer to reader, let me tell you: Ain’t nothing scarier than that.
This week on Sangfielle: The Cursed of Eastern Folly Pt. 3
The Almanac of the Heartland Rider
The Tooth Trolls: Every year, right around harvest time, the trolls climb up out from the lake and do their gardening by the shoreline. Every few years, some strapping and brash showoff goes “to show them who really owns this land.” Only thing is, they find out they had the answer wrong. Don’t pay ‘em no mind, and you’ll be fine.
The Lake Skeletons: What is there to know, as of yet. Rivalrous. Boisterous. See right through ‘em.
The Waterlogged Kingdom: At least that’s what we’re calling it for now. Deep under the water, an empress waits. There’s been debate: Did they turn the wood from her sunken ship into a palace for her? Build castles out of the lake sand? Maybe they never stopped marching, and they’re down there right now, just going round in circles. An likely area of inquiry, for certain
Facts and Figures
The Sunken Empress Altapasqua (she/her): Around fifty years after the panic set in, Altapasqua told her people she would ride across this cursed land and purge it of its disease and danger. She only made it about three fourths of the way. And well, it’s as expected. She was down there ever since.
Slumbous (any): A minor god of the Boundless Conclave, who is associated with the ritual practice of putting one’s candles out at night, but whose domains extend beyond that to include the more general realm of routines of care and rituals of restfulness. Often depicted in a big, crooked hat.
Snuffos (he/him): An even more minor god recognized by the Boundless Conclave, who decides whether to put out candles that tired people forget to snuff out before bed themselves. A petty god in more ways than one.
Marisha (she/her): The previous attendant of the small Boundless Conclave temple in town. A caprak woman in her 50s, and a quiet fixture to the town.
Stanislaka (she/they): Marisha’s replacement, the new attendant of the Boundless Conclave temple, an young ojantani whose faith to Slumbous knows no bounds.
The Boundless Conclave: Less of an individual church, more of an association between hundreds of independent faiths. Small sects, nearly forgotten cults, and unjealous gods make up this vast pantheon.
The Disciples of the Triadic Pyre: Appropriately devoted to a trio of gods, the Triadic Pyre believe that entropy is the only certain thing in this world, and as such aim to master it. Recently began to mark workers willing to do their tasks in the mines with their brand.