Aja's Room

Stepping across the threshold into Aja’s quarters, you are immediately concerned at the possibility of offending your hosts. Every stick of furniture has been pushed up against the far, southern-facing wall. Her mattress has been stripped of bedclothes, her finely brocaded bedspread tacked up to cover up the one large window against the western facing wall. The sheets are in the process of being torn up for use as bandages, some of which are hanging to dry from the mantle after having been boiled in the small cauldron hanging in the western fireplace. You are not surprised to see the perimeter of the room has been salted, and the entire space smells strongly of sage and patchouli.
One of the bed stands has been liberated from the pile of furniture against the far wall and has been positioned near the doorway. It is partially covered with a ripped white pillowcase, atop which are a number of implements: a small, black-handled knife; a hand-held white scythe-shaped blade with a white bone handle; and a finely-crafted silver bowl which looks out of place and was likely purloined from your host’s dining service. Several hand-woven baskets of dried herbs — most of which you don’t recognize — are piled beneath haphazardly.
Perhaps most striking is the large, five-pointed star that has been carefully chalked on the floorboards in the center of the room, the entire thing circumscribed in 28 circular markers depicting the waxing and waning of the lunar cycle. A simple river stone appears to be used to mark the moon’s current phase.
In contrast to the white chalk illustration in the center of the room, in each of the four corners are crude representations of people, outlined in black smudge stick. While the illustrations lack detail, you notice that one is significantly shorter than the others, and a second appears to dwarf the other three, its broad musculature almost comically drawn. It only takes a moment to recognize that each of the four drawings is intended to represent you or one of your groupmates.
Atop each illustration appears to be some item deemed to be of significance to the person depicted. A tuft of mottled fur rests atop Falgrieg’s portrait. The flute that Graykar had played several nights before and has been missing since helps differentiate his portrait from Morvion’s which, at first glance, doesn’t appear to have a personal effect. Upon closer inspection, however, you are able to discern a number of small obsidian chips, presumably collected from his latest efforts at shaping a weapon. Tars’ hulking portrait features a half-eaten fish carcass which, judging by the lack of odor, you assume has been magically preserved.
Beside each illustration is a candle, one of several mismatched tapers throughout the room. Near each candle is one of the bed pillows, presumably used for sitting or kneeling.