Talking to a Rauch Feen: Part 1

The Summoning

Kiren pulled her cloak tighter against the sharp winter chill as she navigated the quiet, stone corridors of Lepidstadt University. The faint scent of burnt offerings still clung to the air, a lingering trace of Rauchfest. The day when the city honored—or, as some whispered, bribed—the Rauch Feen for keeping their chimneys clean and, more importantly, for keeping their lips sealed about the secrets they overheard during their nightly tasks. For there were no greater gossips or hoarders of secrets among the fey than the Rauch Feen. A resource Kiren intended to tap into.
Inside the university, however, the air was still, the corridors lined with ancient tomes and lit by flickering lanterns, casting long shadows across the floor. Kiren’s steps echoed softly as she approached an elderly librarian, his attention buried in an old manuscript. Without preamble, she leaned forward and asked in a low, polite voice. 

Kiren: “Excuse me, but I’m looking for a quiet room, perhaps an old reading annex, one with a fireplace that still functions. Somewhere seldom used.” 

The librarian, pushing his spectacles higher on his nose, regarded her with a raised brow. After a moment’s thought, he nodded slowly. 

Librarian: “There is a room… Room 379 on the third floor. It’s near the archives. Not much used these days, but the fireplace still works. Not many light a fire there anymore, though.” 

She offered a quick, appreciative smile before heading toward the winding staircase. With a quick step her near silent footsteps soon reached Room 379, the brass handle of its heavy wooden door tarnished and dull from disuse. It wouldn’t do for the creature to sense her anticipation. A slow deep breath slowed her pulse while her mind barricaded her true motives behind layers or trivial information gleaned from the talk in the taproom. It wasn’t fool proof, but Kiren found it effective in diverting all but the most direct mind invaders – forcing them to make her aware.
With a soft creak, she pushed the aged wood door open. The room’s shelves lined the walls and were filled with neglected tomes coated in a fine layer of dust. At the far end, the dormant stone fireplace loomed, silent and unused for some time. Good. Her chances of keeping this rendezvous place hers alone increased.

Kiren approached the fireplace, kneeling before it as she carefully opened her satchel. From within, she drew out an assortment of offerings: paper made from cinnamon bark, its faint warmth still lingering in the fibers; coffee-infused paper, rich and earthy in scent; thin strips of Black Elder wood, still humming faintly with the magic of elderberries; and pieces of apple wood and holly, fragrant and sacred. Each item was carefully chosen as bait to hopefully catch the attention of at least one elusive Rauch Feen, the fey chimney sweeps who quietly tended to the library’s hearths. She was certain the Rauch Feen would recognize these offerings at once. 

After the frenzy of Rauchfest, this was not just a tribute, but a personal summons—no, an invitation for its presence. The fey were known for their taste in the exotic and rare, and this fire was no ordinary flame. It would pique its curiosity. If any creature held the knowledge she sought, it would undoubtedly be one of the Rauch Feen who had long tended the chimneys of this ancient library. 

Summoning her magic Kiren willed her offerings to ignite and with a whispered breath blew  words to tempt and entice into the smoke. 

Kiren: “By flame that warms, by wood that burns, by smoke that curls and twists— I invite thee, spirit of soot and ember, to come forth and share my company.” 

Flames danced softly in the hearth as the smoke twisted and turned rising up into the chimney to carry the intriguing scents and words of her offering. It only took moments before Kiren felt the subtle weight of an unseen presence, watching and pondering. 

Kiren continued her study of the purloined layout plans of Lepidstadt University, giving the entity no acknowledgement while it remained hidden in the shadows. You never rush the shadows. It was now just a question of time—whether the Rauch Feen would choose to reveal itself or remain in silent consideration. She could wait. 
From the shadows of the hearth, there came a flicker—a brief shimmer of light—before a figure materialized, hunched and small. It wasn’t the delicate, winged creature one might expect from the fey, but something far more grounded, earthy, and soot-streaked. Good. No creature filled with flights of fancy. This fey has seen – and done – a few tricks amongst the  world of humans. A challenge – a dangerous challenge. 

The Rauch Feen stepped forward, its leathery skin covered in ash, and its top hat slightly tilted as if worn for centuries. In one gnarled hand, it held a small flame, burning brightly despite the grime that clung to it. In the other, a chimney sweep’s brush was resting on its shoulder. The creature’s face, wrinkled and weathered with age, held a pair of sharp, ember-like eyes that gleamed with both suspicion and curiosity. It sniffed the air, taking in the scent of the fire Kiren had lit, and let out a gravelly chuckle.
 
Rauch Feen: “Paper, is it? Pah! A proper offering’s wood, lass, not this fancy paper business. It’s only those who have seen less than a millennium that go in for this newfangled nonsense.” It shifted its stance, squinting at the offerings.

Rauch Feen:  “Still, I s’pose ye’ve used decent stuff. Cinnamon, coffee—ahh, but it’s the Elder wood that’s caught me taste. A fine, sweet burn that one, with a hint o’ elderberry. Could do worse, I reckon.” 

Kiren makes note of the creature’s likes and dislikes. She’d have to dig through some more ancient tomes – mayhap even ones in this very room – to find the preferred older rituals offerings. She wasn’t above bribery, especially if it yielded the information she craved. Grandmother Spider always said get paid for your work. She could expect no less from this wizened creature. What she couldn’t purchase, she knew she could scrounge one way or another.
It stepped closer, its soot-streaked clothes rustling, the faint smell of burnt wood and ash clinging to it. It sized Kiren up with a critical eye, finally it spoke, its tone both gruff and pedantic.

 Rauch Feen: “But what’s all this then? Why d’ya summon me, eh? You’re not a student and I don’t show me face for just an outsider. Ye after some secrets, are ye? Or is it just a chat with an old feen like me? No matter which it be, I ain’t in the mood for idle talk, lass, so make it quick—what’s burning ye?” 

It stood there, one eyebrow raised, waiting for her answer with a mixture of impatience and curiosity.