well, might as well get to know her i guess. until things get too cold, anyways

>>1126794
Ask which place she hung her clothes so you can hang them on a pipe so theyre toasty warm when she finishes her bath.
Its awfully cold out there.

Its a good excuse to... stay out of reach.
You can chat while you do so.
Get to know her.
See if that odd feeling that shes radiating can be smoothed out and maybe then itd be nice to let her feel.

That's too familiar for a stranger. You'll have to get to know her first.

>>1126816
This.

Sounds like a fae creature. Sure why not. She’s been recognized as a guest so they shouldn’t do anything heinous due to hospitality

Well, if she was going to do any harm she's had plenty of time and chances at this point to do so. So sure, why not. Get to know her some more.

"Ma'am, it's impossible for me to be a saint; I run a business.

So, please don't take this the wrong way, but... today's bath is free. My baby is not."

No, you are not taking away this life, you supernatural she-bitc-!
I mean, I don't like being touched by strangers much, may I ask what's your name and who you are?

Yamelle 2026/05/20(Wed)04:46 No. 1127023 ID: 54055d
File 177925241305.png - (277.06KB , 550x500 , 080.png )

>That’s too familiar for a stranger. You’ll have to get to know her first.
>Ask which place she hung her clothes [..] It’s a good excuse to… stay out of reach. You can chat while you do so
Yamelle: Oh, uhm. A-Allow me to hang your clothes in a warm spot first! I assume you left it in the changing room, yes?

Yamelle quickly scoots away to the aforementioned room. Sure enough a pile of tattered traveler’s clothes had been dumped on a bench. A gnarled walking stick and a pack basket lean against the wall. She still calls to the stranger while collecting her garments.

Yamelle: So, uh, how long are you staying in town?

Stranger: Hmmgh.

Stranger: Until I’m ready to move on, I suppose.

Stranger: I don’t exactly have places to be.

Stranger: The path has sent me here.

Yamelle: Well there are some nice spots to go! You should visit the temple tomorrow! Zimir is our priest; he’d love to hear about your travels.

Yamelle: There's a delivery boy who can help you to the next village. He should be here in a few days if you would rather give your legs a rest.

She doesn’t respond.

Yamelle 2026/05/20(Wed)04:56 No. 1127024 ID: 54055d
File 177925300401.png - (241.66KB , 550x500 , 081.png )

Yamelle lays the elder’s clothes over a warm pipe, spreading out like hanging on a clothesline. A short time passes in the changing room. Ma still speaks loud enough for the stranger to hear.

Yamelle: So how old are you, if you don’t mind me prying?

Stranger: Heh heh heh.

Stranger: I haven’t paid attention to my age, to be honest.

Stranger: I can remember certain points of my life.

Stranger: I remember...

Stranger: Holding my mother’s hand. We had to leave our home and marched many days with neighbors out of Gardim. Forced out.

Stranger: I didn’t understand it at the time. I may have been four. Or was it ten?

Stranger: The Emperor would seize the territory into what may be San-Sar today; he had the Constellation on his side. Although, I heard a civil conflict arose but I’ve moved further north since.

Yamelle ponders her history lessons; that sounds well over a century ago if she speaks of Emperor Eif-Jafan. Maybe a smidge longer! Chupians can live to be 120; 90 years would be the average lifespan.

Yamelle: Wow! That’s some life you have! Ya-know, I’ve just moved here about seven years ago!

Stranger: Say, while you’re in there could you bring me my kit? It should be somewhere in my pack basket. A small, square pouch.
>a. go straight for the kit, not being too nosy in her basket
→ look through the kit first
→ don’t look in the kit, and bring it over
>b. sift through her pack thoroughly; you’d want to know what else she may be carrying
>c. don’t bring anything to her, make an excuse you couldn’t find it (or didn’t hear her)

>1. talk more about yourself
→ talk about your family
→ talk about the village
>2. ask more about her
→ ask why she became a traveler
→ ask her name
→ ask if she has a family
→ ask which goddess she reveres
>3. don’t say much else, let her speak

B3

She didn't get invited in during off-duty hours. It's not exactly illegal to rummage through an intruder's belongings. Make sure she isn't carrying any explosives; she might be selling you a yarn about being frail beyond means to get through the night unquestioned and onto her true objective.

Let her ramble on. See what she says about herself, and stop giving her information on how to spin her story unless she specifically asks for it.

just bring it to her, I mean its not like it could be a threat.
Just let her talk, if she wants. a bathhouse should be relaxing

A3

>>1127026
Agreed.
B3.
Need to make sure you have the right kit without opening it. Its... an excuse to be nosy.
And 3 but encouage her, not just passively listen. Let her share what she wishes and let the stories whisk you away for a little while.
Then, if you dont hear anything that creeps you out and if you dont feel too nervous, maybe if babby kicks, let her feel.

Shuffle through just to be safe. Once done we have an excuse. "Wait did you mean a kit of needles for sewing? Or was my assumption bad?"

B1

Sift through her stuff but be amicable.

A. Just grab the kit and don't snoop. She's been kind and polite to you so far, we can return the favor.

1. Talk about the village! Make her feel welcome.

Yamelle 2026/05/31(Sun)04:48 No. 1127363 ID: 330254
File 178020288917.png - (294.45KB , 550x500 , 082.png )

>Shuffle through just to be safe.
>Sift through her stuff but be amicable.
>It’s not exactly illegal to rummage through an intruder’s belongings
>Need to make sure you have the right kit without opening it. It’s… an excuse to be nosy.
Yamelle carefully opens the bag, opening wide enough to see all contents at once. Other than a woolly blanket--there are some odd collections at first glance:
• A bundle of wiry twigs
• A patch of autumn-colored leaves
• A few gnarled sticks of white chalk
• A spool of red twine, and a sharp metal used to cut it
• A couple vials of... clear liquid?
• Patches of chupian fur.
• Canteen.
• One of those old-timey photos! Someone young. Could it be her?
• There’s a cloth wrapping around what smells like hard biscuits.

Reaching in, Yamelle scoots some items to the side. To her surprise and intrigue there’s a crudely carved disk of black stone. Looking at its eroded features she could only describe it like a face trapped behind a veil! It bears its teeth to bite through, desperate to get out. Beside the disk is a long, ivory instrument; one end is a rounded point and the other a small hook. It’s shaped like an awl but the bone has black cracks as if it bled ink some time ago.

Sure enough, there’s a small leather kit no bigger than a wallet. This could be the one! Yamelle plucks it from the rest of the stranger’s belongings and stashes the pack basket in a locker.

Yamelle 2026/05/31(Sun)04:51 No. 1127364 ID: 330254
File 178020310796.png - (196.24KB , 550x500 , 083.png )

The stranger relaxes in the lukewarm pool; the water lines across her cheeks. Her ears pick up Yamelle’s footpads along the gigantic tub.

Yamelle: I hope this is it!

Stranger: Mmhmm. Set it near the edge there.

>Let her ramble on
>encourage her, not just passively listen
Yamelle: Are you enjoying your bath?

Stranger: Meh, it’ll do.

Yamelle: Oh...

Stranger: ...

Stranger: Oh child. I’m not complaining. I know my arrival is an exception.

Yamelle: Hrummph. Child? I’m thirty-two, you know!

Stranger: Heh! And quick to retort like one.

Stranger: If you live to be my age, thirty-two isn’t far from ten. You’ll understand.

Ma silently harrumphs.

Stranger: Aweh, don’t take what I’ve said personally. You’ve been a good host. I’m a hermit--I’ve rarely gotten to know people before I move on.

Stranger: Perhaps it’s hypnosis from long roads, but I can sense something in my travels--whether to stay in one place and for how long. And leave promptly. I can gauge the fates of towns; there’s an aura to it.

Stranger: Hmm.

Stranger: There was a time when villages were personified. There were even doctors to call when houses became ill. When fences grew lesions. When the wells were thirsty. Headaches in the basement. Cancer in the walls. There are ancient books on how to deal with such ailments.

Stranger: The practice has dwindled. You don’t see those kind of doctors anymore...

She sighs. Then snorts.

Stranger: Maybe I’m full of crap. But I've learned to trust my instincts thus far. I felt drawn here, but not in a bad way.

Yamelle 2026/05/31(Sun)04:54 No. 1127365 ID: 330254
File 178020324154.png - (195.89KB , 550x500 , 084.png )

Stranger: Speaking of which...

The stranger leans against the edge of the pool. Her fingers are permanently curled and withered, and they take time to open the small pouch brought to her. She removes an odd morsel, something Ma’s not so sure about.

Stranger: Hrmm. I guess this is the last of it...

Yamelle is curious; leaning further she sees a small pipe and several other herbs stuffed in the kit. The stranger notices and cracks a smirk.

Stranger: Don’t worry, it’s just medicine. And I wouldn’t smoke anything in front of an expecting mother.

She kneads the morsel in her fingertips.

Stranger: This I dissolve on my gums. It helps with my headaches and aching joints.

>a. no objection, let her resume
>b. inquire. ‘is that ALL it does?’
>c. object! drugs of any kind should be outside the bathhouse!
>d. >___

I mean it is her last bit of it, might as well let her take it. She is old, who is gonna deny her vice?

a good bath should sort those ailments. She should save that for later, if it is her last.

b

>>1127363
Okay, that'll do for now.

>>1127364
"Feng Shui, right? That's a discredited art. It did beneficial things, but in an unscientific way. And mysticism is an easy way to control people, especially since they can't make their own counter-arguments about gobbledygook. We're still learning the newer, more empirical-observation method."

C) You have a strict policy against spreading unknown substances in the bathhouse.

>>1127364
Dilapidating. "Doctors" today give cleanliness and hygiene to buildings. Plus it can go deep. People who let their village rot usually have rot within themselves. Perhaps blindness gives you greater sense of smell. With it you see the rot where others may be blinded.

>>1127365
B, but for a good reason.
If it makes her sleepy in a bath this size it would be far too easy to slip under the warm water and risk drowning.
So, ask with a considerate tone, not one of skeptical amusement.

>>1127365

Old lady's been nothing but kind to us so far. And as long as her head stays above the water, there's no concern about stuff spreading about.

Ask her more about these mysterious doctors of old. They remind you of that weird stuff Dama was telling you of earlier.

B, let’s learn more!

B, just wanna be sure it’s good for her!

Yamelle 2026/06/06(Sat)23:06 No. 1127709 ID: 330254
File 178078719106.png - (230.20KB , 550x500 , 085.png )

>[inquire], ask with a considerate tone
>just wanna be sure it’s good for her!
Yamelle: Is that all it does? If it doubles as a relaxant I don’t want you to become lame and accidentally drown!

Stranger: It soothes the mind and body--but it won’t paralyze, I promise. I’ll be able to keep afloat as we talk.

She inserts the mysterious morsel under her upper lip, near the molars. There’s no objection from Yamelle. Perhaps she was expecting an instant change but the stranger projects no signs yet.

Stranger: Ah, there. Sigh, a shame that’s the last of it.

Stranger: I’ll have to bear the next trip until I can find some more.

Stranger: If I still live that long, heh heh.

>ask her more about these mysterious doctors of old.
Yamelle: About what you mentioned earlier; you wouldn’t happen to be talking about feng shui, right? There’s a fellow in town that’s wonderful at redecorating! He could make an old house look like new!

Stranger: Oh, nothing like thaaat, dear.

Yamelle: Well what, then?

Stranger: Something on a more immaterial level, I'd say. Like when an object turns 100 years, it manifests its own spirit.

Stranger: Hmm. They were called ‘village menders’. At least I think that would be the best translation. Their cures may have been archaic to today’s standards. But they were well-respected. Their treatments did work when something bad was stirring up in town.

Stranger: I ought to share a quick story while the medicine takes its time to kick in!

Stranger 2026/06/06(Sat)23:07 No. 1127710 ID: 330254
File 178078725375.png - (278.41KB , 550x500 , 086.png )

You see. A mender visited my village some years after the exodus from Gardim. I may have been six at the time. Or perhaps... twelve? Or was it nine..?

In any case I was helping grandmother wring the blankets and sheets. There was a mender who frequented our newly established community. I could see a crowd of neighbors gather around him.

I took the chance to step away from my duties to see what’s up.

Neighbor: What could this mean, mender? Our livestock have been avoiding the sward for weeks!

Neighbor: And the land won’t absorb the rain. We hadn’t had weather like this before!

The mender would ponder.

Mender: Hrmm. Inflammation in the roads.

Mender: Fences all warped with stretchmarks.

Mender: Rocks all rubbery.

He tapped the ground, and dug a small hole with his toe.

Mender: Ah, yes. Not good. But clear.

Neighbor: What could it be, mender?

Mender: I’m afraid the community is suffering from...

Stranger 2026/06/06(Sat)23:08 No. 1127711 ID: 330254
File 178078730130.png - (198.76KB , 550x500 , 087.png )

Mender: A splinter!!

>Another story huh? Well you can play along as villagers or have Yamelle banter at any point while the stranger recalls her tale, similar to Dama’s reading to Sashi.

Villagers: A splinter? How big of one must it be to affect the entire village?

>>1127711
A splinter is a foreign object lodged in the skin. What is foreign to a village?

A splinter? I can grab some tweezers if you need help pulling it out.

It's time for the villagers to offer all k8nds of odd ways to help with the splinter.
A crane, a plier made of animals bones, a mother-in-law's tweezers (if they can pull out her hangnails, they can pull out anything), the new cure-all cream from the snake oil vendor, a particularly bitey pet...

Eventually, the mender will ask for a volunteer to go to the nearby meadow with him to solve take out the splinter. And you know the little girl will be the one.

Yamelle will probavly ask how come she never heard of these practices before.

Stranger 2026/06/12(Fri)19:02 No. 1128001 ID: 330254
File 178129094510.png - (208.75KB , 550x500 , 088.png )

Yamelle: How come I’ve never heard of these menders before?

Stranger: It’s simple: times have changed. Villages became bustling suburbs became urban towns became intergalactic cities. The Constellation may have made first contact with Alp Daga centuries before I was born, but their influence snuffed out these archaic practices.

Stranger: That fellow could’ve been the last of its kind.

--

So anyway, the neighbors hand-waved his diagnosis at first.

Neighbor: A splinter? You’ve got to be jerkin’ the rug beneath me! What’s a little splinter got to do with any of this? If it was huge to affect the entire village I’m sure we’d’ve noticed it!

Mender: Don’t be so dismissive! To us, a splinter is a foreign object lodged in the skin.

Mender: Something DOES NOT belong in this village!

Mender: We must find this foreign entity and cast it out!

Mender: I’ll need to scour every inch of this village. I’ll begin at the pastures since the livestock are acting strange. I expect lodging and compensation during my investigation.

Neighbor: Of course! We haven’t forgotten the toothache in the stables several months back.

Neighbor: We don’t have much in coinage--but we’ll try to pitch in as much as we can!

Mender: I guarantee my work will be worth the payment!

Stranger 2026/06/12(Fri)19:03 No. 1128002 ID: 330254
File 178129101289.png - (207.71KB , 550x500 , 089.png )

Of course I’d rather be doing other things than wring blankets all day! It was that moment I wondered what being a mender would be like. Perhaps something I could pursue when I grow up.

The mender has since begun his search. With the crowd dispersing I snuck off.

Erm, just a moment as I try to remember what I did...
>a. I followed the mender to the pasture, I wanted to help him
>b. I went searching on my own. I can solve the case!
→ deep into the woods
→ behind the houses
→ along the stone wall of the pasture
→ there’s a flooded pond to check
→ I dunno, somewhere else?
>c. ponder what the ‘foreign entity’ could be

>you can play along as villagers or have Yamelle banter some more

B. cause we are young and reckless and don't know better.

to the flooded pond! maybe there's a reason why it's flooded.

B lots of sneaky things hide behind the houses

I’d like to advocate for A~ We could search for the object ourselves, but we don’t fully know the nature of what we’re looking for. We should march up and politely demand information! Annoy the mender with questions till he gives us just enough to get us out of his hair.

>>1128002
A.(sort of)
I followed the mender to the pasture because i wanted to help him.
Thats not true.
'I followed because i wanted to heckle him.
I didnt believe then and i was a lil shit who'd run off leaving my granma to do washing on her own with her arthritis.
The karmic justice is not lost on me.'
Or words to that effect.

B, to the pond!

Stranger 2026/06/25(Thu)18:37 No. 1128591 ID: 330254
File 178241266434.png - (283.22KB , 550x500 , 090.png )

Ah yes, I went searching on my own. I remained close to the village, keeping an ear up in case someone would call for me.

>to the flooded pond! Maybe there’s a reason why it’s flooded
There was a boggy spot where a heavy storm has filled it up. The adults told us not to go swimmin’ in it, and some children got in trouble for trying. I could snoop for an hour before mom would notice me gone.

Here at the fens the water ‘aint dirty and not like there were terrible swamp lacoodas lurking underwater. It’s been flooded once or twice before... especially after rainfall, and I’m not sure why the water hadn’t drained up yet. Sometimes fellow people would fish here, so there was a makeshift raft nearby.

Thus began my search of the splinter. What exactly am I looking for and where?
>a. stay on the edge and circle along the bank
>b. use the small raft to lurk further in the pond
>c. look for a dam, or something that would prevent water from flowing

C)

B

D) up ur ass
Okay, but seriously. B.
Splinters are usually the result of sapient error. Someone bumped into something that seemed harmless but caused an infection via a critical hit of an object that barely tickles when it normally conflicts against something. Start with that rowboat. On its own, it does little. In an area once unspoiled it can do so damn much by sheer accident; an invasive species, a dammed up river, etc.

B. Hop in the small raft and scout about. Perhaps there's litter or some trash floating about causing issues. Something upsetting the aquatic life?

The raft is super tempting and adventurous, but since we are offered other stuff besides the obvious amazing freaking raft, I'm choosing:

A)

Also, what's a lacooda like?

Stranger 2026/07/01(Wed)02:29 No. 1128789 ID: 330254
File 178287298836.png - (362.85KB , 550x500 , 091.png )

>Start with that rowboat
>Hop in the small raft and scout about
I thought I could have some fun with the boat at least. There was a paddle inside, so I got in the raft and scooted on out into the pond. I didn’t know what to expect--but I enjoyed watching the amphibious life swim around in the shadow of the boat.

>What’s a lacooda like?
Oh they got snapping beaks and long loach bodies. Ma told me a swarm could pick a child clean. Nasty critters. One of the boys at the schoolhouse got bit by one, a chunk of his thigh right off.

>Perhaps there's litter or some trash floating about causing issues
I won’t bore you with the calm details. It took ten/twenty minutes of searching for anything that seemed unnatural. I found a lost fishing rod or a slipper--perhaps an old doll that had swampweed growing out of it like ramspuds. But nothing I’d consider a splinter, for these belonged to the village. I had to find something that didn’t belong.

Yet something had caught my eye.

In the deeper end of the pond glinted something like a coin or medallion. It was half-buried in the sediment and the water rippled too much to identify. But it may be retrievable. I had to be careful.

Stranger 2026/07/01(Wed)02:31 No. 1128790 ID: 330254
File 178287308761.png - (298.27KB , 550x500 , 092.png )

Yasee I wasn’t much of a swimmer. At all. So I remained solely in the raft trying to reach it. I strained closer to the edge. The cold of the water hugged around my arm, as if it could grab and yank me right in. The raft rocked some more but the shiny artifact was at my fingertips.

My cheek was against the water, my snout nearly dunked past the surface. My small fingers finally curled around some threads--I think it was the cord--and I tugged! But the rope was caught on something deeper in the sediment!

Dang thing!! I could risk falling in and drown! Of course... I’m alive here talking to you. But the most unexpected thing happened as I tried to yank it free!

>Uh... gimmie a moment to remember exactly what that was...

>you can play along as villagers or have Yamelle banter

Are any villagers following the Mender around?

Yamelle: "Ooh I know this one! And when you pulled it free it was attached to... A Severed Hand!"

You were blown back as something burst out of the water, almost as if you'd pulled the world apart by yourself.

Stranger 2026/07/02(Thu)21:58 No. 1128881 ID: 330254
File 178302951072.png - (320.58KB , 550x500 , 093.png )

Yamelle: I know this story! It was a severed hand!

Stranger: Eh, a whuh?

Yamelle: If it was a scary camp story it would be a missing hand. Or a rusty hand hook!

Stranger: It’s not a camp story. It was real!

Yamelle: Oh!

Yamelle: By the way--were there any villagers that followed the mender around?

Stranger: I... I’m not sure. Maybe.

Stranger: Th-That’s not important!

Stranger: I need to figure where I was, hold on...

--

Right.

>You were blown back as something burst out of the water, almost as if you'd pulled the world apart by yourself.
Whatever sprung free there came a huge burst of black ichor spewing forth from the pond! The blast pushed me backwards onto the raft--knocking my head and shifting the boat violently with sudden waves! Again I almost fell into the water. I watched as something clattered by my feet in a pool of some tarry substance. When the waves calmed, I was shocked to discover...

A hand!

Yamelle: So it was!!

No-no-no. Now you’re mixing my brain up! It wasn’t a hand. It was... like... some kind of spine! Maybe a curved tusk... It was bleeding inky blackness with carvings all along its side. Ropes were taut around it, woven in a strange pattern.

Stranger 2026/07/02(Thu)21:59 No. 1128882 ID: 330254
File 178302954824.png - (225.98KB , 550x500 , 094.png )

Whatever it unplugged, the pond darkened with its vantablack bile. Spluttering out and frothing the water. I feared the world has been doomed to eternal darkness.
>a. I examined the splinter closely
→ and tried to plug it back in
→ I threw it back in the lake
>b. I examined the dark ink of the pond
→ only looked at it
→ I touched it
>c. I ran home
→ screaming
→ and took the splinter to the mender
→ I told the town I’ve found the splinter

C) You screamed of the splinter, not realizing that doing so doomed the town even more than poisoning the water supply.
The galactic corporations saw how much oil there was in this little zit of a town and they insisted on cleaning every last drop from the river... and cleaned out the townsfolk in the process.
The corps gave you enough money to live forever. Your town stole all the pride and respect in your heart with their venomous blame.

I’d like to choose C! Taking the splinter to the mender is probably the better decision. If A gains a lot of favor though, trying to plug the hole shut seems like the option a panicked child would do.

I think you would be impressed you actually found it. B) to look at the ink.

C) This must have been what the mender was looking for!

C
OH NO! THE WORLD IS BLEEDING TO DEATH! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!

B. You were curious and touched the strange new substance. Perhaps a bit too curious and splashed it around a bit.

Stranger 2026/07/07(Tue)21:19 No. 1129071 ID: 330254
File 178345915863.png - (256.84KB , 550x500 , 095.png )

The minnows and tadpoles hurriedly swam away from the impending ink clouds. I imagined what it would be like to stand in my village and see black fog rolling in the distance swallowing mountains. In a panic I rowed back to shore and sprinted on home through scraping branches and bushes.

>This must have been what the mender was looking for
>Taking the splinter to the mender is probably the better decision
I held the splinter close; I hoped the mender would know what to do. He can cure the pond! He can save the village before the infection can spread! He must be in the pasture still!

‘Mender, mender!’ I cried, scuttling my little feet across the field. He stood alone by a hay pile, barely sifting through straws with a cane. But I had his attention.

Mender: Now what’s this calling about?

Mender: Oh. You’re just a girl. I’m busy, you know. A busy man! Go jump a rope or whatever.

I urgently tell him about my discovery; I explained what happened in the pond. I kept yelling. ‘I found the splinter! I found it! I took it from the pond and now the whole world is bleeding!!!’ I showed him the splinter in my hands, at least feeling a little proud to have found it. 'Yasee! I can help! I can be a mender like you!'

Stranger 2026/07/07(Tue)21:26 No. 1129072 ID: 330254
File 178345957682.png - (198.99KB , 550x500 , 096.png )

He reeled in repulsion.

Mender: Great Amama! Look at you! You’re covered in filth! No doubt the result of a terrible mother who neglects her younglings!

Mender: Get yourself a bath! Little girls shouldn’t be rolling in the mud!

I admit I wasn’t in the best of presentation but... I told him that I wanted to help, that I wanted to be a mender like him when I grow up. He scoffed again.

Mender: Pah! Girls don’t grow to be menders!

Mender: It takes keen senses and a deep understanding of the unseen forces at work. Yeeeears of study. You’d probably find it boring in a week and move on to something simpler. Take up soapmolding! Or woodpulping.

Mender: Now enough of this make-believe nonsense.

He snatches the splinter from my hands.

Mender: And I’ll be taking that! This thing could be diseased! Tying up animal bones in string and beads is an unhealthy hobby.

Mender: Run home, little girl! Go practice some matronly chores.

>___

What the fuck mender? Rude as fuck.

Does Baby Stranger know anyone who would have access to bones and beads both? Or anyone known to hang around the pond?

>>1129072

Well, at least WE'RE trying, unlike whatever he thinks he's doing.

Is he even a real mender, or just playing pretend?

Tell him again that the pond is filling with black ink. If he doesn't listen, go tell someone else. Keep trying until someone listens.

This guy's gonna steal credit. A smart kid would stay close and keep an eye on him.

Insist! Insist! Do not relent!

This fool will doom the whole world with his disdain. You have to show him the lake right now!

...Yeah this might be the reason the mender tradition went extinct.
Warn the other villagers about the black goop. Ask around; maybe you accidentally opened an oil pipeline the Constellation secretly installed.

Fine, you're just gonna have to lure him over there yourself.

Snatch his walking stick, and run as fast as you can to the lake.

>>1129105
Oooh, I love this idea!

Stranger 2026/07/10(Fri)21:57 No. 1129187 ID: 330254
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>Tell him again that the pond is filling with black ink
>Well, at least WE'RE trying, unlike whatever he thinks he's doing.
>This fool will doom the whole world with his disdain. You have to show him the lake right now!
I tried to convince him to follow me! But of course no adult would listen to a child for long. He eventually straight up ignored me.

> This guy's gonna steal credit.
> Is he even a real mender, or just playing pretend?
> ...Yeah this might be the reason the mender tradition went extinct.
I was starting to suspect he wasn’t all that he seemed. Maybe he’ll take all the credit for hisself. We had charlatans come and go; some who get away and others who get kicked out on their behinds. But he was a known fella--so it would be harder to convince everyone he was a phony.

Regardless, I knew what I had to do.

>Snatch his walking stick, and run as fast as you can to the lake.
I swiped his walking stick and ran off!

Yamelle: No!

Yes! I grabbed it and hoped to reach the pond first! The mender was hollering and chasing after; he may have been old but still had some stride. I had to cut through town and weave around people. Definitely more than a few heads had turned to see the commotion.

Stranger 2026/07/10(Fri)21:57 No. 1129188 ID: 330254
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Once I reached the pond--I couldn’t believe what I saw.

All the water... had disappeared.

All that remains is a basin of sediment. As I’ve said earlier it fills and drains throughout the seasons--but I’d never thought it would change so suddenly.

I tried remembering where I found the splinter, or if there is any black goop left behind. My search didn’t last long as footsteps came trotting behind me. A handful of villagers.

Stranger 2026/07/10(Fri)21:58 No. 1129189 ID: 330254
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Mender: There you are, little brat!

Mother was there, and so were some neighbors. The mender stood aside with arms akimbo as mother’s voice made me cringe inside. I could hardly get a word out to defend myself.

Mother: VIKRA! What have you done?!

Mother: So THIS is what you’ve been up to? Sneaking out and harassing the poor mender.

Mother: And you’re a mess--tch, and we just washed this robe!

Mother: Take your wrinkled be-hind home right now and undress for a bath!

Yamelle 2026/07/10(Fri)21:59 No. 1129190 ID: 330254
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Yamelle: And then what happened?

Stranger: Exactly that. I went home.

Stranger: I’m sorry it couldn’t be wrapped in a bow, but I saw what I saw.

Stranger: I don’t think I was allowed out until the next day. The mender had since ‘cured’ the village and went on to the next one. I never saw the splinter again either--he probably took the credit as I feared he would.

Stranger: When I was able, I visited the pond. Still no trace of what I experienced. Did it open a hole and drain all the water? Have I saved and cured the village? Or did I unleash something terrible into this world?

Stranger: The other children have made fun of me for it. Perhaps I saw only what a child’s eyes could think up.

Stranger: Still, I kept the tradition going. But I don’t ask for lodging or anything. I typically keep silent about it.

Yamelle: Well that was a... fascinating story!

Yamelle: I think the kids will like that one! When they’re old enough to listen anyhow...

Yamelle: I’m sure you were probably right. It doesn’t sound like it kept you from trying all your life.

Yamelle 2026/07/10(Fri)22:00 No. 1129191 ID: 330254
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The stranger is silent, and stares out into space as the poolwater is undisturbed. Ma is getting sleepy, indicated by her stretch and light yawn.

Stranger: ...

Stranger: I think... I’m ready to move on.

Stranger: Thanks for keeping me company--I haven’t shared a story like that in a long while.

Stranger: I was... having a look around the village; it’s quite healthy. Healthiest I’ve seen in my years. I still did a bit of mending here and there.

Stranger: ...little things. Precautions.

Stranger: ...

Stranger: There’s something maybe you ought to have.

Stranger: In my basket is something like an ivory awl.

Stranger: At any point when you find a cyst in the ground, bury the awl somewhere nearby. Point facing down like a spike. But careful not to break it. Don’t worry, it aint another splinter--more like acupuncture. Just make sure it’s done before the cyst is lanced.

>>1129191
Alright. Well, might as well bring up the weird disk now.

Does a spooky figure that has been watching people from the rooftops all foreboding-like and giving an old man a scare count as a cyst?

Anyway, let's invite her to sleep in the house!

Invite her to the house!

Invite her to the house!

You won't take no for an answer!

>>1129198
Agreed.
Invite her to stay.
Whether we fully believe it or not.

She never asked for lodging like the other guy.
He was a walking splinter.
And this isnt her asking.
Its being offered, in gratitude for a tale told.
And, let her feel your belly.
Especially if the little kickboxer is waking up.

Invite her to stay, but if she wishes to head out, try not to press it. Respect her wishes.

Yamelle 2026/07/12(Sun)05:41 No. 1129218 ID: 330254
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Ma stretches her limbs.

Yamelle: I’ll keep that advice in mind!

Yamelle: You’ve been a wonderful guest as well. yeeeeeawrn If you need a place to stay I could make some room for you here.

The stranger chuckles.

Stranger: Oh, that won’t be necessary. But thank you kindly.

Yamelle: No, I insist! It’s dark out and you have no business shifting through the cold.

Yamelle: I’ll get you a warm towel and bring your things over. Okay? I'll wake my husband to push two small beds together in the kids room.

--

Ma steps over to the changing room again. Everything’s in the far back locker where she left them. The pack basket is looking quite old, frayed, and weathered; no doubt it has traveled many long miles to be in this condition.

She carries it out from the locker, but the tattered old thing starts falling apart. The weight of the stranger’s belongings tore a small hole and several items start pouring out onto the tiled floor!

Clackity clack clink CLUNK

Amongst the brittle twigs and crunchy gray leaves come clattering the ivory awl and the black stone disk. Unfortunately for the disk, it cracks in two.

Yamelle: GAAASP! Oh noooo. Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot

She kneels as best as her gravid belly allows to collect the mess. Yamelle sighs. The thinly moth-nibbled blanket is used to cover the tear and all items are placed back inside. All but the awl, which Yamelle accepts the lady's gift and hooks it to her towel.

Yamelle 2026/07/12(Sun)05:42 No. 1129219 ID: 330254
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Glumly, she returns to her guest.

Yamelle: I’m so so sorry, ma’am.

Yamelle: Your basket ripped and your belongings fell out. I promise to help pay for some repairs--or even replace it. There’s a wonderful basketweaver in town, I promise he’ll make it pristine!

Yamelle: Something else broke too...

She looks up and the stranger is nowhere to be found.

Yamelle: Ma’am?

Ma double-checks the pool. No bodies. Good. There’s a puddle of water at the edge from where they sat. She scans the room left and right with ears flicking to and fro. No noise. No response.

Yamelle: Hello?

Her voice resonates.

Yamelle: Now where’d she gone off to? I said I’d bring her a towel.

>>1129219
You broke her phylactery. I'm guessing she'll be reborn from that cyst.
But eh, I guess call out to her in ignorance.

Search the house? Make sure her clothes are still here, she can’t have gone out naked, right? So if clothes are gone she left, otherwise she’s still here.

She went outside,
when you check outside, you see she is already far far away in the distance, you can only see her silhouette. You think you can hear her singing a sorrowful, yet familiar tune.
you call out to her to come back inside, but she is too far away from earshot. You can't reach her because you are too under-dressed to go outside in this weather.
the blizzard gets stronger and stronger as it obscures your sight of her until she vanishes


how mysterious and eerie. You hope she is okay.

The beherit broke?? This story about to take a turn.

But seriously are her clothes around? Did the front door find its way open again?

Yamelle 2026/07/12(Sun)20:33 No. 1129235 ID: 330254
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>Make sure her clothes are still here, she can’t have gone out naked, right?
>But seriously are her clothes around? Did the front door find its way open again?
Yamelle searches and double-checks the building. She recalls locking the front door after they first swung open, but there are no signs of anyone unlocking them to leave. There’s a pile of tatterdemalion rags where the stranger’s clothes once lay: dusty with old cobwebs strewn around.

Yamelle: What is...?

They easily fall apart. She wafts away the debris particles to not inhale them.

She looks out the front window, trying to find a naked old chupian hobbling around. It’s dark, with only a lamppost illuminating a distant spot. No blizzard, but windy with light flurries. Is that her--? No. No, it’s a snowy mound. No red eyes reflect back.

How mysterious and eerie. Without a response for several minutes Yamelle places the stranger’s belongings by the front counter, just in case.

Hopefully she’s okay.

Yamelle-Dama 2026/07/12(Sun)20:34 No. 1129236 ID: 330254
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Ma retreats upstairs after everything’s accounted for. A slow ascension on creaky floorboards. The nippy wind hums outside as she walks down the dark hall. She peeks in the children’s room to find Sashi and Deemus peacefully sound asleep--and continues on.

Yamelle enters the master bedroom where her husband rests under the warm sheets with only his fundoshi on. Wife undresses her sole towel and joins; she quietly places the ivory awl in her nightstand drawer. The mattress gently dips from her weight as she nestles in with a sigh.

Dama, stirring in her presence, utters.

Dama: Hrngh... speaking to somebody, dear?

Yamelle: Oh. Well... hmm.

Yamelle: Um...

And so, it is time for some closing responses before Da and Ma tuck in the night.

No sense waking Damas up with discussing the goings on. He worked hard today and would worry and wake up fully.

Easily enough to explain in the morning. Give him a hug from behind and go to sleep.

Ask if he believes in ghosts to answer his question

>>1129236
An old ghost, who told her story before moving on.

"I think i saw a ghost and i don't know how to feel about it."

Just a memory, it seems

Yamelle-Dama 2026/07/13(Mon)03:55 No. 1129258 ID: 330254
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Yamelle: Sigh...

Yamelle: Do you believe in ghosts?

Dama: No.

Yamelle: Ah, it’s just... I think I was talking to one. She was an old woman and told me a story about the olden days.

Yamelle: Uuuhh... I-I’ll just fill in the details tomorrow morning! <3 You need your sleep.

He rolls his shoulders as he sinks further into his pillow.

Dama: hrnngh... I was... hrmm... downstairs earlier. I forget what for. But I heard you muttering somethin’ in the tub before returning to bed.

Yamelle: Oh. Well I must’ve been deep in thought, I guess.

She scoots to rest comfortably on her side. She tries spooning, what with her pregnant belly in the way, but he reciprocates by running a palm around to itch her thigh.

Yamelle: I love you, Dama~

Dama: Hmm goodnight Wife ♥

Yamelle-Dama 2026/07/13(Mon)03:56 No. 1129259 ID: 330254
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And thus the village of Du-Gar peacefully slumbers throughout the night. The Yamelle-Damas will wake up bright and early to keep its towners clean and hygienic; an important role in chupian society. The unsettling vibe throughout the streets would appear to have subsided by then, although not without rumors left in its wake which shall turn into trivial tall tales at Daringh’s Bar & Tavern.

We close this chaptery glimpse on the lives of the Yamelle-Damas. Perhaps we’ll check in on them again, surely as homely as ever.

Dama: Oh, uh... and I love you, too.

Yamelle: I know~

THE END

Thanks for the wonderful look into the lives of these all-time favourite family, Sarco!

Merry Psychopomp Day to one and all!

A nice cozy time

Bonus scene: Yamelle is interrupted by water breaking

Love these two. Thank you for making a quest for them and for us!