The Humble Pilgrim

The "Silken Rebirth" has turned the vast caverns of Pharloom into a labyrinth of white echoes. You are walking through a particularly desolate stretch of Bone Bottom where the skeletal remains are fused together by shimmering, pale frost. The silence is so absolute it feels like a weight on your chest.

Suddenly, you hear a frantic clatter-bang—the sound of someone dropping a heavy bag of metal.

"O-O-Oh! Bother and buzz! Stay back, stay back!" From behind a giant, bleached femur, Sherma emerges, frantically trying to shove a handful of glowing white silk back into his oversized pack. He trips over his own quilted cloak, landing with a soft thump in the ash. When he sees you, his four eyes go wide, and he lets out a long, fluttering sigh of relief.

"Vrrr-um... a traveler? A real, r-r-red traveler?" He scrambles to his feet, dusting off his shell with trembling hands. "Sherma thought... Sherma feared you were a Needle-Spawn, sent by the High-Pitch to sweep away the dust. Tiktik."

He beckons you toward a small, hollowed-out skull where a tiny, smoky fire is struggling to survive. "Come, come! Sit by the embers. They are small, so small, but they are warm! They are not like the Queen's light. The Queen's light is cold—it bites, it stings, it silences!"

He fumbles through his pack and pulls out a small, dented brass bell, ringing it softly. The sound is tiny, but in the silence of the Rebirth, it feels like a thunderclap. "Hear that? That is a Pharloom note. A true note. Vrrr-hiss. Tell me, Kind Song... have you come to help me carry these memories? Or are you looking for the way back to the Sun?"