#elsewhere

"You must offer to me something of value!" He flaps his wings.

Art reaches and lightly rests a hand on Thistle's shoulder, giving her a small squeeze.

"I have something... but it's pretty valuable. Made by my own hand."

Gwen is looking for other ways "Maybe we could build a new bridge"

Mato considers, kneeling and pressing a hand to the ground. Then he shakes his head. "I cannot stretch stone that far without it crumbling."

Takota looks around as well, "The only wood here belongs to Living Trees. I fear you'd need to beg permission of more than one spirit, and be willing to take their lives, to build a new one.

Raven hops up and down.

She reaches in her bag, and fishes out one of her bead strands. These are a brilliant cobalt, swirled with silver and white inclusions. They shine and sparkle.

Raven eyes it curiously, then flaps his wings dismissively. "Beads! I have beads! Every maiden who wants her hair to shine as black as my wings gives me beads."

Art looks thoughtful, introspective.

"Beads of Dreamstuff? I doubt that."

"Careful, Raven can also be a trickster" She says

"Rude!" Raven caws. "You say that like it's a BAD thing. Quok!"

Art’s brow furrows as a thought flickers across his face. He opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates, shaking his head. "What about..."

“No… it’s too precious.”

Raven flaps its wings, hopping closer with an eager gleam in its eye.

“Tell me! Tell me!” it caws, voice insistent and wheedling. It shifts from foot to foot, feathers ruffling with excitement. “A secret unspoken is a feast uneaten! Let me taste it!”

Art looks to Thistle, and then shakes his head. "No, I shouldn't have said anything."

"We couldn't."

Takota says, "I would offer the prayers of my family, sent on sage fires to please you next Powwow."

Raven flips his tail at Takota.

"What is it? What is it? I want it!"

Art defers, reluctantly. "It is from our land, and comes at a cost that one must work to earn. It is strong enough to hold back decay, and shines like the very moon on the waters."

"Art, NO Not that!" A gasp

Raven seems to be... no, it IS growing in size! Puffing up, feathers getting poofy as he hops up and down. "Tell me!"

"Art..." She scowls, her tone low and warning.

As she catches on

Art steps over to Gwen, and bows to her. "I hate to ask this of you, but..." He leans in and whispers to her.

Mato crosses his arms, eyeing the growing Spirit distrustfully. He grumbles.

"Art, this prize was to show to the Baron, are you SURE?"

She looks almost distraught

Raven narrows his eyes and hisses at Gwen. His beak, now big enough to snap off a person's head, snaps at the air!

"I taste a lie! AWK! A lie!"

"Fine. I wasn't going to give it to the baron. " Truth "Which should tell you how valued it is"

Raven turns his back on Gwen.

Art winces! "Now, Raven..." He says, and holds his hands open in a placating gesture. "You of all creatures should appreciate a good trick. But we should have known that you're too clever for us to fool."

Black eyes squint, and he peeeeeers at Art.

"A little twist of words, a game of wits—what is truth, anyway, if not another story to shape?"

Raven pauses, and asks, "What Game?"

Art adds, "Shouldn’t there be a chance to win back favor? How about another bargain? A proper one this time. No half-truths, no hidden edges—just a straight wager, trickster to trickster."

"How about a Riddle contest? If we win, you carry us across. If you win... well, that prize that was dear enough to make a Troll lie? It will be yours."

Gwen flushes, and it's not fake

"So we risk losing it entire?"

/roll 4 4

/roll 5 8

/roll 1

(Sorry, should have rolled out there)

Art hesitates, then reaches to lightly touch Gwen's arm, meant to be reassuring.

He nods to Thistle, "We may have to."

Raven clicks its beak, considering. Then, after a long moment, it lets out a pleased "Hmmmm."

Art looks to Gwen, and asks, "Are you okay with that? Else we can find another way."

Raven is hopping from one foot to the other, thinking.

It has grown larger again, the ground shakes a little as it lands.

An arched brow. Any bigger, and the bird can probably take them all in one go....

Gwen nods "I'm not great at riddles, but it seems worth trying" Truth again

Raven caws! "Me first! Me!"

He clears his throat (not that it helps smooth his voice any), and croaks out a riddle,

"I dance or fly, on breezes I may roam,
A homemaker, yet I’ve no true home.
I craft my beauty in places unseen,
My treasures are not bright silver or gold’s gleam.
What am I?"

Art gestures to Thistle and Gwen to lean in close. "Do you have any guesses?" His voice low, lest Raven claim to have heard and judged it "answered" prematurely.