This was another moment in Sean’s life where eyelids would have come in handy. Instead of blinking in surprise and perhaps asking a question of this mysterious, all-present voice however, the coldly logical part of his mind took charge. He was being asked to choose. So if he was going to make a sound choice, then he would have to know more about what his options were. 

Striding forward, each step sure despite the utter lack of any discernible footing, the geladin made his way towards where the silver-grey wisps of what now looked like ethereal moonlight were solidifying. He couldn’t help turning burning orbs to his left and right as he walked at least fifty paces towards the objects he was being ‘offered’. There was nothing here however. 

Nothing, forever. In both directions. 

Got it. Infinite darkness. Sean thought, still feeling a rising sense of true contentment and sheer… relief in his chest, despite the rather exceptional circumstances that would have terrified his human self. Guess that’s better than an ‘exploration is not encouraged here’ sign. Wonder what Death has on offer.

Sean felt a sudden chill work its way down his spine, and he paused nearly mid-step in response. For a moment, just a moment, it had felt like this entire place was watching him. Like the endless expanse of darkness he was immersed in had suddenly grown eyes on all sides. 

The reaction was his first bodily response in this place that hadn’t been wholly positive, and he suddenly knew why. Death had heard him. Heard that one simple, throwaway thought in his mind. Heard its name. And the entity – or concept, even Sean’s instincts weren’t wholly sure on which – had taken closer notice of him in response.  

That was it. No projected feeling one way or the other. No clue as to whether the entity had been irked or amused at his flippant reference. He had just been noticed, and the weight of that sudden scrutiny had quite literally stopped him in his tracks. An instant later however, it was gone. Just gone, and the feeling that he was being watched faded as if it had never been there. 

Oookay, don’t dawdle in the demiplane. Or at least be respectful while I’m in… wherever this is. Sean reminded himself, resuming his earlier pace with just a trace more haste. He resisted the urge to wave at the air in acknowledgement of the moment, choosing instead to focus on the three daises in front of him, and the gifts each held. 

Starting from the left, the first was a hooded lantern of deceptively simple construction. Jet-black glass panes checkered its sides, held in place by delicate silver wood. Its bottom was the lower half of an onyx sphere, and peering in the one opening facing him Sean saw there was no candle in its center. Considering this world used fire motes to power its lanterns, that wasn’t too much of a surprise, but he noticed the ring at its top appeared as if it were designed to twist. 

Curious, Sean reached out and gave it a quarter-turn. Without so much as a whispered click, more black glass slide out from within the silver wood, partially enclosing its only opening. Testing it out, Sean saw he could actually enclose it from both sides or even top to bottom by pressing in once and then turning. Pressing in twice reverted it back to a horizontal closing. 

Handy. Sean thought, impressed with the craftsmanship. He didn’t need a lantern, of course. The ability to see in darkness had been one of the very first perks Sean had realized as a skeleton, so this item was an easy pass. Not sure why this would even be a gift for an undead. Can’t we all see in the dark?

As he pulled his hand away however, an inscription of burnished silver appeared on the dais, just before where the lantern sat. Sean stared at the words, finding to his great surprise that they were legible to him. More than that, they weren’t in English but in some kind of intricate runic script. One that reminded him faintly of nordic runes, only more complex than simple. 

In Brightest Day. In Blackest Night. No Agent of Life Shall Escape My Sight. Let Those Who Worship Succor’s Might, Beware Forever Entor-Mal’s Light. 

Sean stared at the inscription for a long moment, feeling like the words held some meaning he should have recognized, but nothing came to him. This was, however, the first time he had ever seen such beautiful script before. After dismissing the words themselves as irrelevant considering he wasn’t going to pick this gift, he stared at the runes. Each character held deeper meaning than just the surface translation, and the ones near the end felt like they held particular significance to him. 

“Entor-Mal”. Why do I feel like I’ve heard that before? The words sounded familiar. More than familiar. Intrinsic. But the meaning wasn’t coming to him, as if he had only heard the term in a dream and the dream was stubbornly keeping itself at bay for now. Something to ask Gel when I get back.

Moving to the second dais, Sean found a… root? Some kind of tuber, or–

Is this some kind of potato? Sean lifted the fully formed, and completely unpotted plant up for inspection. No, not a potato. Definitely a root vegetable, though. Is this… the whole gift? 

Sean looked around the dais to be sure, but apart from the single vegetable held aloft in his hand there were no others. With nothing else to look at, he examined the tuber a bit more closely. 

The part he had mistaken for a potato earlier was a soft, sandy brown with silver roots poking out of it. Were it not for those, and the black pearl-esque sheen the root itself gave off, he might have mistaken it for an earth potato. Albeit one that was at least thrice the size of any he had seen back home.

I'll bet I could make the world's biggest and best french fries out of this. Or do a baked meat-tato? Magic mashed potatoes sound amazing, actually. I wonder if there is an analogue to sour cream here. There has to be, right? Yeah, there has to be.

Sean was actually tempted to choose this one, as he carefully twirled it around to inspect it from all angles. It wasn't just his natural desire to experiment with a new ingredient, either; there were entirely sound reasons to take the tuber.

If we can grow more of these back in our new territory, then this one plant could be everything we need to feed the giants. I'm not sure how good they are at tending crops, but from what I recall of potatoes it almost doesn't matter. Not with an oasis right there and a druid who can literally summon clouds. I'll bet if we shared the harvests with her, Auntie Ta would be open to helping us grow this. The deceptively youthful-looking woman had seemed particularly invested in her store of rare ingredients back when she had been showing him her way of working a kitchen. There's every chance she'll trade us for it, too. Even if we can't grow more of it ourselves because of special mana requirements or something, we could just trade her for something we could use.

The idea of trading away his one gift from -- Sean stopped himself from saying the entity's name, not wanting to bring its attention back on him -- of trading away his one gift* felt... wrong, somehow. Distasteful in a way even his instincts recoiled from.

Even if we can't trade it or grow it, I'll bet this would make one hell of a powerful dish. Ingredients like this can't be easy to come by. Not for the first time, Sean wished this new world had come with a way for him to easily identify all of the wondrous new things he came across. It would have taken most of the mystery out of exploring new places, sure. But at least I would know whether I've found some garden-variety rare ingredient or something kings would war over.

Remembering the inscription that had appeared when he had let go of the lantern, Sean put the mystery tuber gently back down on the dais. He wasn't sure why the words showed up after he inspected each item instead of before, but given that he could read them he wasn't going to complain about it.

The Fields Of Silen-Ehm Are Never Barren. Hands Are Filled. Stomachs Made Whole. Flesh A Feast All Things Delicious Grow.

Oh good, it rhymes. Sean thought, reading the inscription a second time just to be sure. He wasn't sure how he could tell, since the words mostly manifested as English in his head. Apart from proper nouns, apparently. Which makes sense, but... "Silen-Ehm"?

Sean was certain he had never heard that term before. It didn't feel as familiar as the last one had. There was something to it, though. The longer he focused on them the more the runes comprising its reading felt a tad... malevolent to him, though Sean supposed he could be imagining it. He was standing at what would no doubt be described as a "dark altar" by most, after all.

Shaking his skull, Sean stepped away from this dais and started towards the next one. The first item had obviously held some unknown and yet likely powerful magical effect. One he would have to figure out the value of himself, since the inscription hadn't hinted at anything more than it likely helping him detect "Agents of Life".

Already got my hands full with enough paladins as it is. Sean reflected as he walked. I don't need more of them, and from what we've seen they have no troubling coming right out to us.

There was always the chance the lantern offered some kind of protection against Life magic or mana or something, but so far the mystery tuber was the clear winner here. At least he knew he could use that.

Not to mention Gel would probably be overjoyed that I chose 'food' to bring back with me.

Sean's jaw clattered with soundless amusement at the thought as he approached the third dais. He wasn't sure why these were spaced so far away from one another, but maybe that was intentional.

Trying to get me to reflect on my choices, are you? The geladin thought pointedly, wondering if the world around him would react to his intent without him thinking its trigger word. Or is it more of a "patience can be found in all things" type deal?

He waited for a moment, pausing his stride as he had before, but nothing happened. Cracking his neck in an approximation of a shrug, Sean approached the third dais. As its form finally came into full view, the geladin completely forgot about the last two items.

Seated atop the dais of pure shadow, was a singular, perfectly shaped, and absolutely massive cooking pot. Sean's jaw dropped open at the sight, and he immediately ran up to it.

The exterior of the glorious pot was an elegantly polished silver, traced here and there with darker greys that ran towards the smoke-grey bottom where one normally saw the metal of cooking implements transition to heat-conductive alloys. Two handles of expertly carved black wood adorned either side, and a lid of the same material with its own carved handle covered its top. A lid, Sean noted with rising excitement, that was absolutely seamless.

Lifting the top with only slightly trembling bone fingers, the undead former foodie peered in to examine the pot's interior.

Woah...

Inside, the bottom of the pot was a starry void. Like that of a perfect, cloudless sky seen from deep in the woods somewhere light pollution could never reach. He stared down at it for a long moment, watching as the stars traced patterns of their own accord across its surface. Shifting. Dancing. All on their own. As if the sky he was looking at wasn't representative of the stars at all, but--

Spirits... The realization came to him then as surely as if the pot itself could speak. There was no doubt in his mind, and on closer inspection he could see that the flickering dots did indeed have more in common with the motes he had seen back at Dry Run than any actual stars.

Which raised a lot of questions actually, but none that he had time to get into at the moment. Replacing the lid, Sean waited for the inscription on this dais to show itself.

He didn't have to wait long.

All Meat Turns. All Fruits Fall. The Servants of Malic-Gir Attend Them All. Spoiled Rotten Or In Season, Silence Is The Only Reason.

... Would it kill you to add an instruction manual with these things instead of verses? Sean couldn't help but wonder at the entity whose gifts he was currently considering. Well, "gift", really. He already knew which one he was going to choose. 

Wish it came with a cleaning and care label or something, though. Ooh, or maybe an instruction manual in verses. Now that would be something. He thought, reaching out to slowly rotate the pot in question as he looked for that very thing. There was none, of course, so he would just have to be very, very careful handling it for now. If this thing gets scratched I might actually murder somebody... well, murder them on purpose, I mean.

If there are actual cooking guilds, I wonder if they'll sell me a magical scrub brush or something. Maybe one enchanted not to leave any marks? Is that a thing? That should definitely be a thing.

Lifting his new prize in both arms, Sean turned around to look for whomever or whatever might appear.

Decision made! Sean called out in his mind, in much the same way he spoke to Gel. He wasn't sure if this was the more polite way to call on the entity in question, but he didn't have time to worry about that.

In the span of time it would have taken him to blink back on Earth, Sean was suddenly right back where he had been before. Leaning over the counter in a shop whose name he still didn’t know, watching Gel turn blank page after blank, leathery page of a book that was still, apparently, completely empty. It didn’t look like the slime had even noticed he was gone, either. 

Sean looked down at his hands, expecting to find his new, brilliant-and-amazing pot between them– only it wasn’t there. He was about to panic, or actually call out to the entity on purpose this time, but now that he looked there was something in the flat of his left palm. A thin, cylindrical disk that Sean had almost missed as it was the same color as that hand. 

As he noticed it and gripped the disc experimentally, instructions on how to use it suddenly filled his mind. He didn’t even have to ask or look, the knowledge was just suddenly there. As if it always had been. His sudden panic receded in an instant, replaced by an increasingly wide grin as Sean reached his other hand back into their pack to grab his beloved frying pan. 

Time for an upgrade, my friend. He thought, rolling the black disc back and forth between his bone fingers. And I can’t wait to see it. 

“What’s that?” Gel asked, suddenly curious as the slime noticed what he was doing. 

“A gift.” Sean said, wanting to retain an air of mystery before showtime as he fished out the star of the show. 

“One I can personally guarantee, you are going to love.”