After the party’s chat with the Frog God, they had a blissfully uneventful trip back to Coruvon. They came across some troglodytes, but they deferentially made way for the party to continue.

All told, they had been exploring the swamp for a total of 16 days by the time they made it back. To say that everyone was excited to sleep in real beds and eat food other than rations would have been an understatement. Their first stop, however, was Shoehaven Manor. Mr. Galenar, Drumley, and Red Kirsten were quite relieved to see them again, as they had begun to worry that something had gone wrong.

“I know you told us how long you were planning to be gone, but you have to understand; that swamp is incredibly dangerous. Most people who go in don’t come back out.” Mr. Galenar explained.

“It’s understandable, honestly. I suspect we ended up meeting with the most dangerous parts of the swamp too.” Kurt agreed, much to the other’s horror.

“Where did you go?!” Red Kirsten practically shouted.

“Well, first we trekked across most of the swamp to go to this island made of zombies. We killed the necromancer who made it and then took this giant iron rose.” Karrank began to narrate with gusto. “After dropping it off, we basically went back the same way to find this maze, like a hedge maze made of thorns! We fought these things called throgrin at the center of the maze to claim four big hunks of amber. And then on the way back we were attacked by the Fruum, which is apparently one of the gods in the swamp?”

“You… were attacked… by a god of the swamp?” Mr. Galenar had to take a seat as the color drained from his face.

“Oh yeah! It was all tentacles and stuff. Came really close to getting me too. I swear I felt my ribs pop from it squeezing down.” Karrank nodded, completely ignoring the man’s horror.

“What in the world could have been worth going through all that?!” Red Kirsten asked, still trying to process their story.

“Well, I wanted to ask questions of the Frog God within the swamp, but it wanted me to recover three treasures for it. The basket I had before we left, the iron rose from the zombie island, and the amber from the center of that maze.” Sylvester explained. “Unfortunately, even the Frog God couldn’t answer my questions.”

“So, it was all for nothing?” Mr. Galenar piped back up, having regained some color thanks to a drink provided by Drumley.

“Not nothing,” Sylvester denied. “Instead of answers, I got Thyellaphos.”

“Oh my!” Mr. Galenar exclaimed. “The craftsmanship of this is exquisite.”

“Thank you for your kind words.” Thyellaphos replied with its voice of clinking chains and wind chimes.

Everyone froze on hearing the response.

“Did… i- Thyellaphos just talk?” Drumley was the one who asked the question.

“Yes! Its amazing, truly. Thyellaphos is a sentient weapon! I had heard about them before, but this is truly amazing. It grants the powers of Detect Good and Evil as well!” Neil suddenly piped up, unable to hide his excitement.

“Really? So, am I good?” Red Kirsten asked curiously.

“Ah! Common misconception.” Neil explained. “The miracles of Detect Evil and Detect Good only apply to it on a cosmic or supernatural sense. Normal people don’t even show up, even if they are completely rotten or absolute saints.”

“Well… that seems markedly less useful.” Drumley pointed out.

“It is a limiting factor, but it is harder to confound Detect Good or Evil than you might expect, and anyone or anything detected by the miracles is absolutely worth knowing about.” Sylvester countered.

“I see. A sentient weapon is a true treasure, but it still seems small in comparison to all of the danger that you faced.” Mr. Galenar mused.

“That is true, though I also have another reward to claim.” Sylvester reassured him. “The Oracle promised me a prophecy for helping the Frog God. I assume she is powerful enough to know when we would be done, so she should be contacting me soon.”

“A personal prophecy might actually be worth all that, especially with the skill you all have shown.” Drumley stated with shock in his voice. Mr. Galenar mutely nodded in agreement.

“And what if she doesn’t show up?” Karrank asked. “I’m not so sure I believe in this prophecy business.”

“Then we make another trip out to her home in the swamp.” Sylvester answered.

“Hopefully, it doesn’t come to that.” Red Kirsten stated, before pulling out a small bag. “On a slightly different note, though, I made sure to pick up some soaps and perfumes for all of you, since I imagine the swamp was pretty unpleasant.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Thank you so much, you are a saint.” Kurt’s gratefully accepted some soap and a small bottle of perfume.

“You didn’t need to.” Karrank stated as he eagerly grabbed two handfuls of the toiletries and began making his way out of the room.

“It’s the least I could do, since you did save my life.” Kirsten laughed.

“Its plenty, especially since you are right that the swamp was so unpleasant.” Sylvester accepted his soap as well.

Everyone ended up spending a significant amount of time scrubbing themselves with the soap and perfume, trying to get rid of all the muck and stench of the swamp. After that, they spent the day relaxing on real seats and beds. Molli and Jennan joined them all for dinner.

“I had a question for you all.” Molli suddenly spoke up while they were eating. “About what you are going to be doing now.”

“Well, I don’t think we have anything left to do in the swamp.” Kurt answered while glancing toward Sylvester.

“No, we don’t. Honestly, where we are going from here isn’t exactly set in stone. Partially, that is because I want to hear the Oracle’s prophecy before making any set plans.” Sylvester added on.

“That makes sense. Are you going to continue searching for answers for what the Frog God couldn’t tell you?” Kirsten asked.

“I’m not sure.” Sylvester sighed. “The Frog God was the easiest god I know of who might have insight on the situation. It managed to eliminate a couple avenues of research, which is something I suppose, but it didn’t leave me with any particular leads.”

“You want to ask questions about prophecies, you need to ask a prophet or a god of fate.” Val pointed out, annoyed by Sylvester’s waning motivation.

Sylvester nodded, but didn’t respond otherwise, and the dinner conversation moved on to other topics. The next morning, he went out shopping with Val, looking for more maps and information about the surroundings to try and see what dungeons were available to him. While coming out of one cartography shop, they were approached by a lizardman in tattered robes.

“I take it the Oracle wishes to see me?” Sylvester asked.

“She does. Follow me.” The lizardman nodded his scaly head. He quickly led them through several streets and back alleys until they had reached the Oracle’s garden. The fungi and swamp plants looked the same as they had before, immaculately placed and tended to, but the Oracle herself was sitting on one of the benches this time.

She turned her head at their approach, her blank eyes following their every move.

“Greetings.” She welcomed them with a demure and even voice.

“It is nice to see you again.” Sylvester politely responded, moving to sit across from the Oracle. Val just stood beside him, cheerfully watching the surrounding lizardmen.

“You have completed the task, though you did not receive the reward you desired.” The Oracle dispassionately stated.

“No, I did not.” Sylvester agreed.

“As agreed before, the Oracle will be providing you a prophecy. Listen closely, as it will not be stated twice.” The Oracle warned him.

“I am ready whenever you are.” Sylvester answered while pulling out paper and writing utensils.

“Very well.” She spoke, but her voice changed its tone. It began to take on a hidden reverberation, a deepness that couldn’t be heard. “Here is your prophecy:

Hear this, you of the four,

The Lamp, The Blade, The Crown, and The Cloak,

For what is,

When the flag is to be flown,

And bound hands are pulled,

The brave shall slip their bonds.

For what was,

When the duke cries his challenge,

Blindness cured shall blight,

And resistance shall be born again.

For what will be,

When ash rains from the sky,

A duel shall decide,

An age of tranquility.

For what could be,

When the hawk flies through the winter,

And the moon is crowned,

The knights of sorcery shall fall.

While unlit by sunrise,

The dark traitor will tremble,

The eagle of the prophet will destroy the harbinger of night,

A time of prosperity to follow.”

When the Oracle finished her prophecy, the area was silent but for the scratching of Sylvester’s writing. He finished a moment later.

“Thank you for your time.” He said while waiting for the ink to dry.

“It is rare that a prophecy for one involves four instead. Think carefully over what the Oracle has spoken.” She cautioned him, her voice back to its normal flat tone.

Having said what she intended, the Oracle got up and left with her lizardman attendants, leaving Sylvester and Val alone in the garden.

“So, there are four people with knowledge like you?” Val asked, unable to hold back any longer.

“Not exactly like me, I don’t think. I am most likely the lamp, with its connection to enlightenment, and I believe I am referred to by ‘what is.’ It implies that the others will have different domains of knowledge than me.” Sylvester mused.

“Do you suppose that the Blade is ‘what was,’ the Crown is ‘what will be,’ and the Cloak ‘what could be’?” Val asked, looking over the prophecy some more.

“It is possible, and the parallel structure seems to support it. But it could be a coincidence. We need at least one of the others to confirm it.” Sylvester pointed out.

“Well, what do you think your section means?” Val pressed, eager for more information.

“Well, it isn’t clear, but that is to be expected. A flag being flown could have a variety of interpretations, especially depending on how literal it is. It could be me actually raising a flag, or it could be more symbolic. Something like me starting a conflict, taking a side, or even becoming a noble.” He pondered.

“Aren’t you already a noble?”

“Only in the most technical sense. As a fourth son of a tiny baron, I am basically a commoner in most situations.”

“I see. Oh, I just can’t wait to tease this out more!”

“You know, sometimes I really wonder if you are a succubus or a different type of fiend.”

“Hey, just because sex and soul stealing are my primary motivations does not mean they are my only motivations!”

“Fair enough.”

"So, any other insights to share with me?”

“No, for now I think we should go back to talk this over with the others.”

Val pouted at that, but still followed Sylvester out of the garden. They had only just begun to walk down the street back to Shoehaven Manor when a voice called out.

“Excuse me! Sylvester Bayes?” A somewhat timid voice called out.

Turning to look, Sylvester saw the man who had called out to him. He was tall, wearing a coat and carrying a small, but fine, leather bag in one of his gloved hands. His black hair accentuated his pallid complexion, which made him appear almost sickly. Seeing that he had caught Sylvester’s attention, the man quickly made his way over and extended his gloved hand.

“Amer Nefiri, at your service.” He introduced himself. Sylvester shook his hand, feeling the man’s incredibly bony fingers even through the gloves. Something about him just struck Sylvester as odd, though he didn’t glow with an evil aura.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Sylvester asked.

“Ah right! You see, I was curious about you.” Amer quickly got back on topic with a nervous chuckle. “After all, it isn’t everyday that someone meets with the Oracle, much less twice!”

Sylvester simply stared at him, though he didn’t even flinch despite his timid way of talking.

“I have heard a few things about you, since you caught my curiosity, such as the fact that you claim to be a prophet! I was hoping you could come have a chat with me to talk about some of your insights.” Amer quickly launched into his pitch.

“I am sorry, but I have other plans at the moment.” Sylvester politely turned him down and began to leave.

“Well, that is unfortunate. I wanted to ask about why you are travelling with something like that lady by your side, or what you were trying to ask the gods of the swamp about. The church tends to frown on activities like that.” Amer called out, still with his timid voice, but his words were like ice down Sylvester’s back.

“I don’t know what you think you are talking about, but I don’t have any insights to share with you.” Sylvester bluffed, already trying to see if he could remember reading about Amer in any dungeons or random encounters.

“Oh?” Amer suddenly had on a confused expression. “I must have gotten the wrong person, my bad.”

He quickly left the scene, leaving Sylvester and Val standing in the street.

“Well, he was a creep.” Val decided.

“Yes, he was. I doubt he is nearly as timid as he made himself out to be, nor is he going to be satisfied with my rebuttals.” Sylvester added.

“Do you think he is going to talk to the church?” Val asked.

“Hard to say. It doesn’t matter though, as we were going to leave town soon. Doesn’t make much of a difference if they run us out, as long as we make sure to get our supplies first.”

“We should get going then, just in case.”