Q:A man in a long black cloak takes a seat across from you. Unusual, in this day and age. “Today is special.” He reached into a satchel and began to set items on the table in rapid succession. An ancient rusted key. A dusty gold mirror. A dull red gem that pulsed like a beating heart. A rusted dagger, pitted and scared. A musty old scroll. A polished bone hairbrush. And lastly, a small pumpkin that seemed to ooze a thick sticky black substance. “Take an item. Hear its tale.”
I avert my gaze from the glass wall that overlooks the city streets to face the cloaked man. “Special indeed,” I agree as I watch him set his items onto the lobby table. With each item he uncovered my curiosity grew, but with the presentation of the final item my heart nearly stopped. “This— you— wherever did you find this? What hapened to it? Please, tell me these things. It is of dire importance.”
That pumpkin… I needed to know who this was, how much he knew, and what had happened.