展开事件内容(包含选项结果与剧透)
| Bad Curse | ||
|---|---|---|
| A brother with the Superstitious迷信 trait will ask you for 400 | ||
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Superstitious迷信 enters your tent with hat in hand. The rim of it turns round and round in his fingers as though he were plucking feathers from it. Even though you haven't said a word the man's head nods furiously and his eyes jet around as if looking for the words to say.
You put your quill pen down and ask what the issue is. Licking his lips, he nods again and begins to explain his predicament. The words come fast, but the general gist of it seems to be that a local witch has cursed the man to be incapable of some sexual export, as it were.
You shake your head and ask what it is the witch wants and Superstitious迷信 says 400 crowns, lest the curse be on him for life.

Thumb and finger pinching your eyes shut, you wonder if maybe this wasn't the life for you. Killing's easy, but this? Whatever. You throw your hands up and get out of your chair to retrieve a satchel of crowns. The superstitious man totters up on the tips of his toes.
"Please count it out! It mustn't be a crown short!"
You begrudgingly set the satchel on the table and begin counting. Once the appropriate number is had, you shuffle it into a purse and toss it to Superstitious迷信. He bows, thanking you and your mercy. You wave the man off to quickly get him out of your tent.

You further muddy Superstitious迷信's poor countenance with some bad news: you're not paying any witch anything.
"A few farcical words from some strange woman in the woods is no basis for an exchange of business. What you've heard is a tramp's attempt to get at you, mercenary. You cannot listen to such tripe, especially a tramp's tripe for a tramp's tripe is always in pursuit of one's coin."
None of these words help Superstitious迷信 for he quickly runs out of the tent, perhaps in pursuit of another mercenary who will give him a loan.

Wondering if maybe Monk the monk could help, you go and fetch the holy man.
He says he can indeed lend a hand for the old gods are always at war with the evils of witchcraft and other sorcery. Before he goes off on a long monologue about this old god or that one, you dip away and send him Superstitious迷信. For a few minutes, there is peace and quiet in your tent. But you know it can't last, for you are like a man beneath a rockslide, awaiting the tumbling stone with his name on it.
However, Superstitious迷信 doesn't return. After a few minutes more you realize he still hasn't made a disruptive entrance. In fact, his absence altogether has you on edge, as though silence itself might be haranguing. You leave the tent to find the monk and so-called cursed man deep in religious talks. Smiling, you return to your tent. If there's one thing the holy men are best at, it's maintaining a sense of tranquility.


