For a week, Temperance devoted herself entirely to religious service in the bustling streets and peaceful countryside surrounding Frandyln. Her heart weighed heavy with guilt from the previous days—her pride in seeking new powers and her recent purchases at The Educated Artificer haunted her. The jar of restorative ointment, the alchemy jug, and the Bag of Holding were useful, yes, but her motives had been clouded by vanity. She had strayed from her path, and now, she sought forgiveness.   Temperance knelt in the cool, fertile soil of Ailis’s temple courtyard, her head bowed in quiet prayer. The smell of fresh earth and blooming flowers filled the air, soothing her troubled spirit. Ailis, goddess of agriculture, fertility, and re-birth, was a deity of peace and renewal, and Temperance had always found comfort in her teachings. Today, though, her heart remained uneasy.   Her fingers traced the carved symbols of Ailis’s sigil on the offering stone, her thoughts drifting to the playing card she had drawn from the gold chest in their last adventure—a card bearing the image of a skull. From the moment she had drawn it, the card had lingered in her mind, its ominous presence gnawing at her soul. Since then, she had felt something—a darkness—following her, just beyond the edge of her perception. No matter where she went, the feeling remained, growing stronger as her pride led her astray.   She couldn’t shake it. It was as if the skull on the card was a mark, a reminder of some unseen danger.   Today, though, she was here for reparation. “Ailis, Mother of the Harvest,” she whispered into the wind, “I seek your forgiveness. I let pride cloud my judgment. I strayed from humility, but I ask for your blessing so that I may serve others once more.”   The soft breeze seemed to carry her words away, and for a moment, the darkness that had followed her felt distant. With renewed resolve, she stood and made her way into the city streets, determined to spread the peaceful teachings of her goddess.   Temperance had always preferred action over words, but now, she felt compelled to preach. Perhaps by helping others, she could quell the restless shadows in her soul. She donned her humble traveling robes and set out to walk the narrow streets, where fey folk, elves, and other city dwellers moved about their daily lives.   "May Ailis bless your crops and bring peace to your home," she said to the first passerby, offering a small flower from the temple garden as a token of her goodwill. "She teaches us to care for one another, to nourish our hearts as we nourish the earth."   Many smiled and accepted the flowers, offering small thanks, but some simply moved on, uninterested. Temperance didn’t mind; this was a service, not a demand. She wandered further, approaching doors of homes and small shops, knocking gently before offering her message of peace and love. “I come with a message from Ailis, goddess of rebirth and renewal. I ask nothing but a few moments of your time.”   Some welcomed her, inviting her into their homes to listen. Others were more hesitant but allowed her to speak briefly before politely sending her on her way. Regardless, Temperance offered to perform any chores they needed in exchange for their time—yardwork, minor repairs, tending to small animals. Each task grounded her, reminding her of the values of Ailis: humility, service, and renewal.   The days passed, and though her body grew tired from the physical labor and walking, her spirit felt lighter. She took no coin for her services, though a few pressed small contributions into her hands, which she brought back to the temple each evening as offerings.   Yet, despite her renewed devotion, the darkness lingered. Each night, as she lay down to rest, she felt it—the weight of that cursed card, the skull marking her path with a danger she couldn’t fully understand. The shadows in her mind whispered that her efforts were in vain, that no matter how hard she worked or how humbly she served, the darkness would follow.   But still, she persisted. If Ailis had taught her anything, it was that true renewal took time. And so, Temperance continued, one day at a time, seeking to shed the pride that had led her astray, hoping that in her service, she could also find the strength to confront the darkness when it inevitably revealed itself.   After a long, exhausting week of service, Temperance returned to her modest room, at Fip's family's cottage. The streets were dimly lit by the soft glow of fey lanterns, and the sounds of the bustling city had long since faded into a gentle hum. She pushed open the door to her room, feeling the weight of the day settle into her bones.   As she removed her outer robes and sat down on the edge of the simple wooden bed, Temperance let out a slow, deep breath. The sense of fulfillment from her days spent serving Ailis was overshadowed by a quiet, persistent tension—the same darkness she had been feeling ever since she drew the skull-marked card. Even now, it seemed to hover just out of sight, a looming presence that refused to leave her.   She closed her eyes, silently reciting a prayer to Ailis for strength and peace. The soft scent of lavender from a small bundle of dried herbs filled the room, helping her mind relax. But when she reached into her pocket, hoping to feel the familiar comfort of her prayer beads, her fingers brushed against something unfamiliar.   Frowning, she pulled it out—a small, intricate charm. She hadn’t placed it there, she was sure of that. The charm was delicately carved from what looked like a sliver of wood, yet it had an almost ethereal quality to it. Nature-inspired in design, the charm resembled intertwining vines and leaves, with a smooth, polished surface. The light in the room caught the faintest shimmer of magic in its etchings.   Temperance stared at it, turning it over in her hand. The charm’s presence felt... soothing. It wasn’t like the dark, looming sensation she had been feeling. This was different—almost a gift, but from whom? Or from where? She thought back to her week of service, wondering if someone had slipped it into her robes without her noticing. But why?   As her fingers traced the carved vines, she felt a strange warmth spread through her palm. An understanding bloomed in her mind—this charm was enchanted. It would allow her to invoke the effects of Barkskin, shielding her with the natural strength of the forest, toughening her skin to protect her in battle or danger. And she could use it once per day, no components needed, just the charm itself.   Temperance felt a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. The charm was beautiful, and its magic undoubtedly useful, but the timing was strange. After a week of serving humbly, this charm felt like a reward she wasn’t entirely sure she deserved. Or perhaps it was a sign—a gesture from Ailis herself, a reminder that protection could be found even in times of inner turmoil.   She glanced toward the darkened window, half-expecting to see something or someone watching from the shadows. The darkness, that ever-present feeling of being followed, hadn’t disappeared. But now, as she held the charm in her hand, she felt a small measure of control—something tangible, something that could protect her when the darkness finally revealed itself.   Temperance whispered a soft prayer, "Ailis, guide me." She clasped the charm tightly and set it by her bedside. As she climbed into bed, the unease still lingered, but with the charm close, it was a little easier to drift into sleep. Whatever shadows loomed over her, whatever darkness awaited, she was a servant of Ailis, and now, she had a new gift to protect her on the journey ahead.