When found, the goat is a tiny simulacrum of crusted, verdant bronze; it bleats piteously when picked up, quieting only once placed into one's pockets or bag. When the bearer experiences hunger, the goat offers succor, whispering into his mind-
Heed mine fable
I'll set thine table
Know mine sacrifice
I'll circle thee thrice
Ye shall have mine secrets
Your burden, only sleepless
If the goat is released in response, it disappears in a molten puddle, as in the foundry. At the edge of the characters' vision, slowly drawing closer, is the goat, now made flesh. It moves strangely, as though injured. It circles the group three times, jerkily walking backward.
Once it draws closer, it is bizarre indeed. It's forelimbs are those of a man, ending in twisted hands. It has pale, lidless and blank eyes. About its neck hangs a pot of bronze, held in a golden chain. Around it's throat, a wreath of vegetables and mushrooms.
Goat places the pot on the ground at the characters feet, it uses one of its malformed hands to pluck its bulbous eyes, putting two round, white onions into the vessel. It bows it's head, blood falls into the pot along with the wreath of greens. In a final horrific act, the goat tears free a haunch of flesh, digging with sharp finger nails- the bleating human in its misery.
The goat limps off to die, the pot needs but placed into the fire now.
If the characters eat of the stew, they will not hunger the entire following day. Tonight's rest however, will be terrifying and sleepless as all who ate of the goat reenact the ritual, but as though they were the goat, helpless to do aught else, they experience the full pain and terror. The next day, any skill checks requiring physical exertion are at disadvantage.
In the morning, the bronze goat is back in pocket. It cannot be left behind or lost. Perhaps an ancient will know how to rid one of it.
