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Liechtenstein
Liechtenstein - The Tombstone Museum Entrance
Postman: "Hey, Fleck family! Package for you!" A hurried young man shouts from in front of the building.
He glances at the doorplate: Fleck Tombstone Museum. Before anyone can answer, he drops a heavy Black Sack at the doorstep and bolts, as if fleeing death itself.
Necrologist: "A new commission." The heavy, silent doors creak open as the mistress of the museum lifts the sack.
Necrologist: "From ... across the distant strait."
The broken stone stirs within, shaking off the flecks and dust gathered from its journey.
A new tombstone, one ready to join the museum's ever-growing collection.
Inside The Tombstone Museum
"Necrologists" are known for their ability to let families hear the last words of their departed.
Use an arcane skill to awaken the tombstone.
The slumbering tombstone is awakened.
And the voice that dwells within it can at last be heard.
???: "Friend, we have more important things to do—first, turn on the light."
???: "I don't like to be in the dark. It brings up terrible memories."
???: "Those nights were filled with roars. But now the silence is more deafening."
The stone shard sent to the Tombstone Museum is but a small fragment of the monument that it came from.
Yet, the shard bears the name of its owner: Mueller.
Necrologist: "Mr. Mueller, are you well?"
Mueller: The tombstone trembles rhythmically. Perhaps it's a nod? "Kind lady ... may I ask—where is this?"
Necrologist: "This is the Fleck Tombstone Museum, sir. Though many also know it as the House of Spirits."
Necrologist: "People come here bearing the fragments of restless souls, hoping that we might help find them peace."
The room is quiet, yet crowded.
It's attended by tombstones in every nook and corner. Some polished white, some mossy and gray, others so old and worn that their markings have faded—erased by time.
Mueller: "My apologies ... the Tombstone Museum ... what exactly is this place?"
Necrologist: "You've traveled far to reach this place. This is Liechtenstein."
Mueller: "..." The tombstone falls into long silence.
Bad news. Without question.
And for a tombstone that has already known death, it borne more than enough bad news for one lifetime.
Mueller: "Damn it, where on earth did those brats bury me?!"
Mueller: "I've been banished to this forsaken place while they returned home in glory ... "
Mueller: "They betrayed me?!—Betrayal! Blatant betrayal!" The tombstone shakes violently, its anger clear.
Necrologist: "Please calm yourself, Mr. Mueller."
Necrologist: "Too much trembling will worsen your cracks. That will make it harder for you to rest ..."
Necrologist: The mistress of the museum knows well how to handle such things. "In fact, the regret you fear may not be beyond repair."
Mueller: "What, you plan to go rough them up for me, Ms. Stranger?"
Necrologist: "Of course not." She coughs gently.
Necrologist: "Hatred leads away from peace. It cannot soothe the dead."
Necrologist: "We can find a better way."
Necrologist: "You can trust me ... at the very least trust the other 31 tombstones that rest patiently here."
Necrologist: "They were once like you, burdened with regrets that could never be resolved."
Necrologist: "But they have found peace."
Necrologist's softened voice calms the reactions within the sack.
Mueller: "Very well ... You can pick me up now. Place me in the glass case you're holding."
Mueller: The tombstone doesn't forget to add, "But only for now."
This tombstone drips with collected moisture.
It is weathered, ruined, and steeped in sorrow.
Necrologist: "Is this another part of you?"
Necrologist: "You've been terribly hurt, haven't you?"
A weaker, more timid voice finally speaks.
???: "N-no ... I'm not part of that loud fellow ..."
Beads of water drip from the stone, like unceasing tears.
Necrologist: "Sir, you are ...?!"
Smith: "I—I'm not him. My name is Smith ..."