@beefgnawpolis The man smiles, turns over a card. A key is taped to it. When you remove the key, you find the card beneath shows a grim, skeletal visage -- a skull with rotting sinew peeling away.

"Exit the tent and keep to the lefthand path." the man says. "You'll find an inn. The key will open room 406."

You step outside the tent, staring at the key and card. A curious exchange! It has left an ill-feeling in your stomach...

You spy the lefthand path the man spoke of. What do you do now?

@CogsAndSpanners Take the path. I don't know the area, after all. The last thing I want to do is loop back to that carnival, and this path seems to lead well away from it, at least.

The skull on the card is a bit... troubling, true. Maybe it would be more troubling if I weren't too tired to really think about it. Maybe it's just a gimmick. One of those weird theme inns that are in style these days.

@beefgnawpolis You arrive at the quaint inn just before midnight. A matronly innkeeper smiles and leads you to your room.

You look around. It's modest, with a little desk in one corner and a bed in the other, a chamber pot beneath it. You're so tired that the bed looks like heaven.

What do you do?

@beefgnawpolis You find a leather-bound tome & rifle through it. The pages are covered in characters alien to you. But a single sentence you recognize is buried on one page.

"PHEW! THANK GOD YOU READ ME BEFORE GETTING IN BED!"

Nothing else on the page makes sense. You flip ahead. Another sentence you can read:

"THE BED IS A PORTAL TO A NETHER-REALM, HUNGRY FOR WANDERERS. CLUTCH ME TO YOUR CHEST AS YOU GO TO SLEEP. I WILL GUIDE YOU THROUGH THE NETHER-REALM TO GREAT FORTUNE!!"

What do you do?

@CogsAndSpanners For crying out... look, all I wanted was a safe room with a warm bed, maybe a bit of bread and cheese in the morning, but no, it seems we just can't have nice things.

I lie down on the floor, with my pack as a makeshift pillow. But the floor is cold and hard, and there's a perfectly good bed right there...

Fine. I relocate to the bed, book in my arms like a stuffed animal.

@beefgnawpolis You fall into the most luscious, revitalizing sleep of your entire life.

Of what do you dream?

@CogsAndSpanners It's strange. Usually, bone-deep weariness of the sort that brought me trudging up to this inn brings dreamless sleep.

But not this time. There is a lake, and a crisp fall breeze that scatters fallen leaves across the dirt path that winds along its edge. There are the occasional animal noises in the woods on the other side of the path, but none of them sound terribly hostile as long as they're left to their business.

@CogsAndSpanners Well. This is awkward.

No, I don't owe the old man money but honestly, that would almost be preferable.

"So," the old farmer says while I'm trying to come up with something to say that isn't going to sound stupid, "you know that stable didn't clean itself. Nor did m'roof patch itself. Nor m'cattle take themselves out t'pasture."

I know. I know. I didn't mean to ditch on the job he'd offered but... something else came up.

@beefgnawpolis You jolt awake. The room's still dark. You hear a chittering above & fire up the gas lamp on the bedside table.

The farmer hangs from the ceiling. He's skeletal, with sinew hanging from the bone - like the fortune teller's card!

He skitters toward you, clawing & hissing: "M'STABLE! M'ROOF! M'CATTLE!"

Your sword's by the desk in the corner. You could dive for it, but may get slashed. You could shield yourself with the book you clutch, but it may get damaged.

What do you do?

@CogsAndSpanners There are no glyphs in any known alphabet that can spell the very loud noise that comes out of my mouth. If I'd run across this thing while fully awake, armed, and armored, that would be one thing... but waking up to find it dancing on the ceiling is another thing entirely.

I fall out of bed, landing on my rear on the floor and scooting away as fast as my legs will allow--and as far as the walls will allow, still clutching the book like a shield.

@beefgnawpolis The thing swipes you with its long, skeletal fingers. The book takes the brunt of the damage -- a long slash across its front cover. It's knocked from your hands and lands open on the floor.

Amid the alien writings, you can make out letters in red: "OUCH!"

You've lost your only defense! But your sword is much nearer at hand now, and the strange ghoul seems mightily thrown off balance...

What do you do?

@CogsAndSpanners Sorry, book. The best I can do for you right now is to kick you under the desk while I flail my way towards my sword.

Now at least marginally more awake and aware of my surroundings, I am fairly sure this thing is not in fact the poor farmer I left hanging all those years ago. Still, I can't help feeling a little guilty... ah well. I'll worry about that later. For now, I have a monster to kill and then an inkeeper to complain to.

@beefgnawpolis You get your sword in your grip. The ghoul stumbles right into the swords' tip.

It looks down at where it's been stabbed. Wriggles to try to get loose. And tears itself right open. Its guts tumble out and it collapses in a heap to the floor.

Er... a job well done, you guess?

With the immediate danger dealt with, you notice this room simply... FEELS wrong. Something about the wallpaper, maybe? Or where the bed is positioned?

What do you do next?

@CogsAndSpanners That was... unexpectedly easy?

I almost have my finger on what seems off about the room when I remember the book. Fortunately, the desk shielded it from flying critter guts. The bit of floor where I have to kneel to get the book out was not so lucky. Ugh.

I retrieve the book and stand up, flipping pages to see if I can find one that's readable. Yeah... there's definitely something weird about that wallpaper...

@beefgnawpolis

Flipping through the book, you make out a message embedded across many pages:

"WALLPAPER LOOKS WEIRD? YEP. THAT'S RIGHT. YOU'RE IN THE NETHER-REALM, KID. EVERYTHING HERE'S A SAD PERVERSION OF THE REAL WORLD.

BUT DO JUST LIKE I SAY AND YOU'LL FIND A GAUNTLET THAT CAN UNDO DEATH!

GET YOUR SWORD AT THE READY.

AND STEP INTO THE HALL."

You've read the book's instructions. Now what do you do?

@CogsAndSpanners A gauntlet that can undo death. Sounds fishy, but it's as good a way to pass the time as any when you're trapped in what is at best a nightmare and at worst... well, some kind of horrible parallel universe.

I strap on my pack, in case I find myself faced with a task that needs more hands than I can spare with one full of sword and the other full of book, step over the pile of dead monster bits, and open the door.

@beefgnawpolis The door opens out not into a hall, but a graveyard. One other person is here -- a woman with a veil over her face, standing eerily still before a grave. Tears streak what little you can see of her face.

By some arcane mechanism beyond your comprehension, you feel immediately like you know why she is crying.

So tell me: why is she crying?

@CogsAndSpanners A cold, crawly feeling creeps up my spine, because I know beyond all doubt that she is crying over her own grave.

Look. I've been doing the adventuring thing for a while now, long enough to know that "undead" does not necessarily mean "will drink your blood and/or nibble on your brain". It USUALLY means that, but not always. Hell, a couple of them have been downright friendly.

This one doesn't appear immediately murderous, but she doesn't seem to be in a good mood either...

@beefgnawpolis An unlucky step -- a twig cracks beneath your feet. The woman looks up from her grave and, in a thick accent, calls out:

"What're you lookin' at?"

@CogsAndSpanners Oh crap. Well, she still doesn't seem to be in a hurry to gnaw my face off, but...

"Sorry!" I call back. I almost wave--with the hand with the sword in it--and then think better of that. "I didn't mean to disturb you, just... passing through."

@beefgnawpolis She notices the book you're carrying and rolls her eyes:

"THAT thing again? How'd it lure you down here? Told you some story about a gauntlet, did it?"

@CogsAndSpanners Well. Good news: this one does indeed seem to fall into the "not immediately hostile" category of undead. Bad news... either she or the book is lying to me.

"...Something like that, yes ma'am," I reply, as I squint down at the closed book. Obviously it's not going to produce a response I can understand until I get a chance to open it, but nevertheless I find myself thinking /Explain/ at it very hard.

@beefgnawpolis The book shakes violently in your hands. You drop it. Its pages flip in the wind & you make out the following:

"SHE'S A CYNIC, BUT I PROMISE YOU THE GAUNTLET EXISTS.

SOME OF MY PREVIOUS EXPEDITIONS HAVE, ER... GONE POORLY & SHE'S BEEN WITNESS TO THEM.

BUT I KNOW WHAT WENT WRONG BEFORE.

ONLY THE UNDEAD CAN OPEN THE GATE TO THE MAUSOLEUM THE GAUNTLET IS HOUSED IN.

YOU'LL HAVE TO CONVINCE THIS WOMAN TO HELP US.

The woman stares at you, eyebrow raised.

@CogsAndSpanners Not for the first time today, and likely not for the last, I find myself wishing I had just slept on the damn floor.

At a loss for anything else to say to her, I read her the book's latest message. All of it. Word for word.

"Look," I say to her when I've finished that, "I just wanted to find a bed for the night and this whole day has just been..." I gesture broadly, yet vaguely. "I sure didn't plan on any of this but well... here we are. So, uh... about that mausoleum...?"

@beefgnawpolis She grins.

"Tell you what. I'll give you entry to the mausoleum. But you're going to need to give me something first. You see, it's been so long since I've felt warm, living lips against my cold dead ones..."

She purses her chapped blue lips. A maggot darts out of her mouth.

"Just a little peck, sweets?"

@CogsAndSpanners This is... less than optimal. It could be worse, though. A lot worse.

Just a peck. Sure. Okay. I can do that. I won't like it. I don't like ANY of this. But given the choice between possibly being trapped in a terrible nether realm forever or planting a quick smooch on an undead lady...

Still, even though I have never found myself in a situation quite like this, as I steel myself and pucker up, somehow on some level I am dead certain it's never "just a peck."

@beefgnawpolis She runs a cold hand along your cheek as you lean in...

The kiss lasts barely an instant. But as your lips brush, your mind floods with images, impressions.

Her life.

She was a student of the planar arts. A set of tricky equations confounded her.

Her efforts to solve it were thwarted by pneumonia.

She weeps for the equations she never got to solve, the discoveries she never got to make.

You part. She smiles: "Was it good for you too?"

@CogsAndSpanners I stand there for an embarrassingly long time, wide-eyed and trying to remember how to make words come out of my mouth.

What finally comes out is: "I'm so sorry." For a life cut tragically short, yes, but--to be honest I know next to nothing about that field, but a mind like hers leaving the world of the living surely left a deep, deep void.

Before, I wasn't sure what use I might have for a gauntlet that can undo death, but now...

@beefgnawpolis "Well, a deal's a deal." she says, beckoning you towards a mausoleum on the other side of the graveyard. "C'mon."

The mausoleum is shut up tight. She lifts a hand to the door. It begins to shake, just ever so slightly. She pauses, pulling her hand away, and turns to you.

"Just checking. This gauntlet. Let's say it DID exist. What is it you want it for?"