“On a night with a dark moon in the trees,
When the undead stir and mill,
There’s a single white rose by the roadside,
Its petals lie deathly still.
Touch and the Rose of the Roadside will beckon,
To join her deathless host,
And the thorns of the roadside’s white rose
Will mark you in three days a ghost.”
– “The Rose of the Roadside,” variation of a common Varisian travel chant, origin unknown
This is an early version of a short poem that I’m making the centerpiece of a short Pathfinder fiction piece set in Ustalav. The idea is that the Varisians can keep their maps a secret by encoding them into songs and poems.