ForceUser
Explorer
Session Three, Part Four
SMOKE WISPED past Mai’s face, stinging her eyes and causing them to water. The pig on the spit sizzled as the matrons turned it, and moisture dripped off the meat and evaporated, wafting up through the central smoke-hole in the communal hut. Children crowded around her, smiling and giggling, and the men of Kim Phe sat together on the other side of the fire, cross-legged on mats. In the corner behind them, a maiden sang a languid song of hope and deftly plucked a dan day*.
Lei, Tam, and Woo sat with the village men, talking. Mai watched as they gestured with their hands, no doubt dramatizing the events of the last few days. The locals listened, interjecting occasionally, and painted with their hands a tale of their own. Mai wondered what that was. A little girl next to her, no older than three, grabbed her leaf hat and pulled, knocking it onto her face. Mai heard the girl’s mother scold her, but she just laughed and pulled the toddler into her lap.
Then the setting sun shone in her eyes, dazzling her, as a figure threw back the flap of animal skin that served the hut as a door. Several figures tromped in, and after the curtain fell back into place, Mai saw four more men join their fellows – Trinh Xang Duc, the local leader, and her companions Hien, Vinh, and Tran. The aristocrat looked frustrated, and the shaman sad. Vinh squatted next to the fire and spoke to the others. Several men shook their heads at his words, and Lei snorted and picked dirt off the bottom of his sandals. Woo frowned.
Hien looked around while Vinh spoke with the elders, spotted Mai, and sidled up to her, skirting the women who now carved roast pork from the pig’s carcass. “Nat Hung is beyond our help,” he began, “He has been cursed by this evil Monkey Woman into madness. Vinh spoke with him at length but we could find no trace of sanity. He raves and trembles at his own shadow.” He sat down beside her and crossed his legs. “The villagers say that the Monkey Woman allows no passage in or out of Phau Dong valley, and that her monkey servants patrol the hills and forests here in search of human prey. They have had to keep their flocks close to home, and they have armed the men. Food is plentiful for now, but they fear to tend their crops. The women are no longer allowed to forage for herbs and betelnuts. They are prisoners here.”
Mai let him speak, but she’d already heard much of this from the women. Finally, she asked, “What will we do now?”
“I don’t know,” the young man admitted, “I think we’re going to visit the other village tomorrow. Phet Lo. Xang Duc says we should speak to Pham Xi Quan, the shaman of that place. He was once married to this Monkey Woman, they say, and he warned Kim Phe that his wife had become a pawn of evil.”
“A pawn?” asked Mai.
“That’s how he portrayed her. Xang Duc isn’t sure what to think. He has reflected on the shaman’s words for many months and come to no conclusion.”
“Why didn’t they try to leave?”
“Some did. These people don’t know if they are alive or dead; those who left never returned or sent word of their safe passage. How could they?”
They sat in silence until supper was served.
The next day, the party rose at dawn and prepared to leave. Lei groomed and saddled the horses while Woo and Vinh meditated, and Hien left the village for the stream, claiming he wanted solitude to pray for guidance and power. Mai spent the morning brushing her long black hair and washing her clothes. Tran spoke with the village elders at length while the younger men of Kim Phe armed themselves and prepared to let their herd of goats out to graze. Tam spent the early morning indoors preparing his spells. After half an hour, Tran and Xang Duc bowed, and the aristocrat walked to his horse. Behind him, Duc and his son Lap followed. Surprisingly, Lap wore a fitted jerkin of hide over mountaineer’s clothes, and carried his bow slung across his back and his dagger at his belt.
“My son Lap will guide you to Phet Lo,” Duc said, “He is a dang-ki**, a skilled hunter and woodsman. He will show you the best path for your horses.”
Lap nodded at the group. For the first time, he spoke. His voice was soft and boyish, “The valley is rocky past here and the grass is poor. The journey to Phet Lo will be about two days. I will show you where to graze and where to ride.”
Vinh replied, “Thank you.”
“We appreciate your hospitality, Xang Duc,” Tran exclaimed, bowing again and grasping his fists in front of him.
“You are most certainly welcome,” the man replied, “We hope that you can learn more about the Monkey Woman’s curse and lift it. I fear that were it not for our ancestors watching over us that she would already have killed us all.”
“We will do our best,” said Vinh.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The trip to Phet Lo took less than two days. Lap was indeed a talented outdoorsman, and he steered the party clear of broken earth, sheer climbs, and hungry mountain cats. By late afternoon of the second day they came within sight of Phet Lo.
Unlike Kim Phe, Phet Lo was walled. Twelve-foot tall wooden spikes encircled the tiny community, pointed outward. A lookout post rose above the walls by another five feet, and it appeared to be manned. Beyond that the group could see thatched roofs and a single curl of white smoke indicating a cook-fire. A large single gate stood out from the fort on this side. Nodding at the walls, Lap hitched his pack and turned away.
“I go no further.”
“Really?” asked Vinh, “Why not?”
“These people act strangely and are not warm-hearted. They do not seek friendship with my father's people. I do not speak to them.” He looked around at the others. “I want to tell you something. You are not the first fighters to come to the valley since the Monkey Woman took control.”
This surprised them.
The woodsman continued, “Another group like yours came here two months ago. They did not stay in our village, but went right to the mountains seeking something. I have not seen any of them since.”
The group digested that information. Lap waved, they thanked him and said their farewells, and soon he was just a black speck moving rapidly down the valley slope.
The adventurers approached Phet Lo. When they came within shouting distance of the walls, a gravelly voice shouted “Halt! Identify yourselves!”
They did. The challenger was a man, short and muscular, who stood in the guard tower and devoured them with his eyes. He seemed neither young nor old, but he moved like a cat. He carried in his right hand a kama-do, Vinh’s weapon of choice. This man’s polearm, however, bespoke a proud heritage with carvings along its length, which was golden, and engravings on its curving blade, which was silver. Vinh wondered why such a man lived here.
“I see,” the man said, “And why have you come to Phet Lo?”
“We wish to speak with the shaman Pham Xi Quan to learn about the Monkey Woman.” Vinh announced.
“Yes, he’s quite popular these days,” said the guard.
As they puzzled over that, the gate creaked and swung upward, revealing more denizens of the remote village, all of whom appraised the party frankly. One, an unusually tall woman, stepped forward and spoke. “I am Vo Thi Chao; I lead here. I will take you to him. Perhaps you are the ones he spoke of in his dreams.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*A dan day is the Singer's Lute, a vietnamese string instrument used to accompany the A-Dao (professional singers).
**A dang-ki, in my campaign, is a ranger. In the OA book it's a Chinese word meaning shaman. Since there is no Chinese word for ranger, I altered the meaning to suit my campaign.
SMOKE WISPED past Mai’s face, stinging her eyes and causing them to water. The pig on the spit sizzled as the matrons turned it, and moisture dripped off the meat and evaporated, wafting up through the central smoke-hole in the communal hut. Children crowded around her, smiling and giggling, and the men of Kim Phe sat together on the other side of the fire, cross-legged on mats. In the corner behind them, a maiden sang a languid song of hope and deftly plucked a dan day*.
Lei, Tam, and Woo sat with the village men, talking. Mai watched as they gestured with their hands, no doubt dramatizing the events of the last few days. The locals listened, interjecting occasionally, and painted with their hands a tale of their own. Mai wondered what that was. A little girl next to her, no older than three, grabbed her leaf hat and pulled, knocking it onto her face. Mai heard the girl’s mother scold her, but she just laughed and pulled the toddler into her lap.
Then the setting sun shone in her eyes, dazzling her, as a figure threw back the flap of animal skin that served the hut as a door. Several figures tromped in, and after the curtain fell back into place, Mai saw four more men join their fellows – Trinh Xang Duc, the local leader, and her companions Hien, Vinh, and Tran. The aristocrat looked frustrated, and the shaman sad. Vinh squatted next to the fire and spoke to the others. Several men shook their heads at his words, and Lei snorted and picked dirt off the bottom of his sandals. Woo frowned.
Hien looked around while Vinh spoke with the elders, spotted Mai, and sidled up to her, skirting the women who now carved roast pork from the pig’s carcass. “Nat Hung is beyond our help,” he began, “He has been cursed by this evil Monkey Woman into madness. Vinh spoke with him at length but we could find no trace of sanity. He raves and trembles at his own shadow.” He sat down beside her and crossed his legs. “The villagers say that the Monkey Woman allows no passage in or out of Phau Dong valley, and that her monkey servants patrol the hills and forests here in search of human prey. They have had to keep their flocks close to home, and they have armed the men. Food is plentiful for now, but they fear to tend their crops. The women are no longer allowed to forage for herbs and betelnuts. They are prisoners here.”
Mai let him speak, but she’d already heard much of this from the women. Finally, she asked, “What will we do now?”
“I don’t know,” the young man admitted, “I think we’re going to visit the other village tomorrow. Phet Lo. Xang Duc says we should speak to Pham Xi Quan, the shaman of that place. He was once married to this Monkey Woman, they say, and he warned Kim Phe that his wife had become a pawn of evil.”
“A pawn?” asked Mai.
“That’s how he portrayed her. Xang Duc isn’t sure what to think. He has reflected on the shaman’s words for many months and come to no conclusion.”
“Why didn’t they try to leave?”
“Some did. These people don’t know if they are alive or dead; those who left never returned or sent word of their safe passage. How could they?”
They sat in silence until supper was served.
The next day, the party rose at dawn and prepared to leave. Lei groomed and saddled the horses while Woo and Vinh meditated, and Hien left the village for the stream, claiming he wanted solitude to pray for guidance and power. Mai spent the morning brushing her long black hair and washing her clothes. Tran spoke with the village elders at length while the younger men of Kim Phe armed themselves and prepared to let their herd of goats out to graze. Tam spent the early morning indoors preparing his spells. After half an hour, Tran and Xang Duc bowed, and the aristocrat walked to his horse. Behind him, Duc and his son Lap followed. Surprisingly, Lap wore a fitted jerkin of hide over mountaineer’s clothes, and carried his bow slung across his back and his dagger at his belt.
“My son Lap will guide you to Phet Lo,” Duc said, “He is a dang-ki**, a skilled hunter and woodsman. He will show you the best path for your horses.”
Lap nodded at the group. For the first time, he spoke. His voice was soft and boyish, “The valley is rocky past here and the grass is poor. The journey to Phet Lo will be about two days. I will show you where to graze and where to ride.”
Vinh replied, “Thank you.”
“We appreciate your hospitality, Xang Duc,” Tran exclaimed, bowing again and grasping his fists in front of him.
“You are most certainly welcome,” the man replied, “We hope that you can learn more about the Monkey Woman’s curse and lift it. I fear that were it not for our ancestors watching over us that she would already have killed us all.”
“We will do our best,” said Vinh.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The trip to Phet Lo took less than two days. Lap was indeed a talented outdoorsman, and he steered the party clear of broken earth, sheer climbs, and hungry mountain cats. By late afternoon of the second day they came within sight of Phet Lo.
Unlike Kim Phe, Phet Lo was walled. Twelve-foot tall wooden spikes encircled the tiny community, pointed outward. A lookout post rose above the walls by another five feet, and it appeared to be manned. Beyond that the group could see thatched roofs and a single curl of white smoke indicating a cook-fire. A large single gate stood out from the fort on this side. Nodding at the walls, Lap hitched his pack and turned away.
“I go no further.”
“Really?” asked Vinh, “Why not?”
“These people act strangely and are not warm-hearted. They do not seek friendship with my father's people. I do not speak to them.” He looked around at the others. “I want to tell you something. You are not the first fighters to come to the valley since the Monkey Woman took control.”
This surprised them.
The woodsman continued, “Another group like yours came here two months ago. They did not stay in our village, but went right to the mountains seeking something. I have not seen any of them since.”
The group digested that information. Lap waved, they thanked him and said their farewells, and soon he was just a black speck moving rapidly down the valley slope.
The adventurers approached Phet Lo. When they came within shouting distance of the walls, a gravelly voice shouted “Halt! Identify yourselves!”
They did. The challenger was a man, short and muscular, who stood in the guard tower and devoured them with his eyes. He seemed neither young nor old, but he moved like a cat. He carried in his right hand a kama-do, Vinh’s weapon of choice. This man’s polearm, however, bespoke a proud heritage with carvings along its length, which was golden, and engravings on its curving blade, which was silver. Vinh wondered why such a man lived here.
“I see,” the man said, “And why have you come to Phet Lo?”
“We wish to speak with the shaman Pham Xi Quan to learn about the Monkey Woman.” Vinh announced.
“Yes, he’s quite popular these days,” said the guard.
As they puzzled over that, the gate creaked and swung upward, revealing more denizens of the remote village, all of whom appraised the party frankly. One, an unusually tall woman, stepped forward and spoke. “I am Vo Thi Chao; I lead here. I will take you to him. Perhaps you are the ones he spoke of in his dreams.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*A dan day is the Singer's Lute, a vietnamese string instrument used to accompany the A-Dao (professional singers).
**A dang-ki, in my campaign, is a ranger. In the OA book it's a Chinese word meaning shaman. Since there is no Chinese word for ranger, I altered the meaning to suit my campaign.
