Age of Ice and Blood: A Pathfinder System Heroic Fantasy Quest

The Forty-First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent] Year 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)

The thought of hiding what you had seen from your own companions sits ill with you and you cannot help but wonder if this is more than simple bloodlust, if this might not be of a piece with the same strange happenings you had come here to report. On the other hand you sensed no lie about Aina's words and naught but honest worry moving her. If this be the wrong choice than it is at least made for the right reason. More to the point you are not sure how far you can push this here and now, for you are not making the choice on the bridge of the Marcella but under the roof of the king of Korman. "So do I vow by Saint Gabriel and under the Holy Spirit that I shall not spread any word of your brother's folly, known or guessed beyond this chamber..."

Zaia swears also and so do your men, lines of blood carved into each of your palms in the manner of the Anwa vowing oaths of blood, and at last so does the princess swear to you by her Elnu Fatekeeper that she had spoken no lie and hidden no truth in this matter, then she rises from her seat and with a practiced hand wipes away the blood. "And now if you shall forgive the poor hosting of waiting so long I would ask what business do you have in these halls for your man said that you were heading hither ere you came upon my brother's path."

Though the renewed formality almost trips you you catch the gist of what she means and explain. "We were sent by Ohun Greenbelt of Apuku with a message for your great-grandmother, both writ on parchment and to be spoken of with living voice should she have questions for we have seen many strange things abroad in the world by mischance, like the encounter with the dead of which I spoke before..."

Aina considers your words a long moment before coming to a decision. "My great-grandmother is not oft awake of late for she walks instead in spirit and in dream." A soft smile crosser her lips. "She claims she would have long since passed beyond the Pale if it were not for her love of us and the fact that we would not know how to get along without her counsel. Yet she is usually awake in the flesh at sunset as at sunrise. Come, I will take you to her and you can deliver your charge."

You nod, relieved to have the path smoothed over thus, though you cannot help but wonder about what she means that the one you had come here to see is not usually 'awake'. Can you truly consider the message delivered if you do so to one whose mind is wandering too far to hear it?

This time Aina sends servants ahead to herald her your coming before you move farther into the palace, higher and higher you climb through the rock, crossing paths with guards in leather and bronze and nobles each bearing the mark of their house upon a mantle worn over one shoulder, though soon your climb grows lonely again. The steps narrow until with a suddenness that leaves you blinking bemusedly as you come into the light of day again past the final door, standing in a small garden atop the cliffs that you had not been able to see from the shore. The air if fresh here, the sea breeze mingling with the fresh smell of pine and honeysuckle and other scents you cannot name.

Aina reaches out for what you first take to be a stone or fallen log among the shadow of the largest tree, but which much to your surprise proves to be a person. Old she seems almost beyond telling, her skin as dry and lied as tree bark, her hands like ancient roots knotted beneath a mantle of furs, her hair a wispy halo of white about her head. Slowly she opens her eyes to look upon her kin. "What? Why do you wake me?" Her voice is surprisingly clear, and her gaze fixed upon Aina sharp.


"A messenger has come from Lirman bearing dark and strange tidings, Oma," the girl replies, for truly she looks as young as you feel in such company, almost a child.

"Let me see then," she turns her aged gaze upon you, paying little mind to the formality of your introduction or to the iron you wear which has drawn so many eyes today. She takes the message without another word and breaks the seal of red wax. It does not take her long to read it at all. "If you had waited but a few days more you would have gotten the reply your master most wished for," she says cryptically. "Still, you shall have to do with mine, eh? The veil between the worlds ripples with the first waves of a great storm and shadows flee before it. Dark times ahead and only likely to grow darker before the light comes out of the east." For a long moment she is quiet then. The old woman looks to you again and asks that you describe in detail what you had seen on the Spear islands, particularly what you had seen of Ilfa before he died as well as what little he had said to you before you fought him.

"Doesn't make sense," Luaza murmurs to herself. "What madness could have pushed him to..." she shakes off the thought and again looks up at you with too-knowing eyes. "Tell me stranger, whence do you spring to have come upon that island in that hour?"

[] Give the same reply you did before the young king of Lirman, you are a traveler from a distant land, if there is indeed something extraordinary about your passage beyond the obvious it would not do to be too free with word of it

[] Explain the full truth, as much as you know of it, of the storm and changing of the sky, it might be of import to what she is pondering

[] Write in

OOC: Sorry this took so long, I had to deal with a lot of stuff in the background and update my notes before I could get the update written.

The Forty-First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent] Year 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)

"Another oath I shall have to ask of both of you if I am to give that account," you reply after a moment, gaze drifting to Zaia. From there you get a nod and from the ancient sorceress an agreement, though she swears not by blood but spirit. A faint light seems to shine from her and through her as though the form before you might fade into the cloud and mist. You had heard no incantation and seen no flash or shimmer of magic but what else could it be?

What else could it be?

You go on to recount that might be the most extraordinary, most terrible day of your life with the aid of a thankfully sanguine Zaia. While the doctor certainly does not seem comfortable in the presence of royalty, his talk of having met emir aside, he is meticulous in his accounts having even measured the hour at which the storm had delivered you... midnight, the first day of the first year of this hour. With all else that had been turning your life upside down in those days you had not thought to count back. It had been on the Day of the Dead on the very same day, night one supposes as Ilfa had killed the priests.

When Inge had claimed that her goddess had sent you you had taken the notion first with disbelief then with unease and at last you had allowed forgetfulness to settle over it as the girl had spoken it no more seeing your reaction, but sitting in this narrow garden atop the hollowed cliffs it is suddenly impossible to hide from that connection. There is a tightness in your chest and a burning at the corners of your eyes, you do not know what to call it, rage, fear, horror or some heady mingling of them all. Where had your God been when Inge's had heeded her prayers?

"Day of the Dead is day of partings and findings, of endings and new beginnings," Luaza muses to herself, seemingly not even noticing your inner turmoil. "A balance is restored or perhaps cast askew, it is not for me nor any who yet walk on two legs under the sky to know by whom, still less why, but know that it was not, chance, not idle change, yes. Balance there is even in the maelstrom and in the great din, treachery with honor, darkness and secrecy with truth's light, the world seeking redress."

"But..." you trail off trying to find words for concepts you cannot grasp, that you are not certain you wish to grasp. "What was the first imbalance?"

"Something from beyond the borders of this world just as we are," Zaia interjects before Luaza can speak. "Something that breaks that which is held sacred, vows of fellowship and faith, something that like us is... beyond fate."

"Almost, almost, you hold the mirror askew, seeker of wisdom," the old woman actually laughs. "The opposite of cutting the threads of fate is not more cutting, but tangling them to your own ends and binding in hat net souls great and small. There are some names and some suspicions I will not speak to empty air, but for your honesty I thank you and I will send word back to your young patron. Heh..." he had used the word with malice and aforethought it seems. "I will tell him to set you other tasks in this matter, though I will not betray your trust and tell him why." Her eyelids start to drift closed, her gaze to distant lands departing. "After the festival you shall have your letter back for the Greenbelt. Perhaps we shall... meet again... soon. The world... turns... so swift," the last words are barely more than a whisper.

Aina clears her throat a touch awkwardly. "You will not be getting more out of Oma today I am afraid, but I can see that you are put up at a decent hall for the festival and I am certain warriors of such storied skill as yours shall do honor to Olweje in the days ahead."

You gladly take her offer, though as you lay your head down to rest that night your mind is filled with dreams blue-green lightning and beyond that a formless darkness. You twist and turn, the remaining dreams of a more familiar sort featuring the swift smiles and clever eyes of a particular princess are not that much better.

What do you do during the festival of the Three Brothers in the four days ahead?

Choose three:

[] Go to the market place, many weapon and armor smiths shall be putting their best works on display in this momentous day

[] Participate in the feats of strength and skill that mark the festival
-[] The archery competition
-[] The 'melee', in truth more like team fighting three on three
-[] Wrestling
-[] Running and the log jump

[] Try to meet with Aina again

[] Accompany Zaia as he looks for strange bargains at the market, and perhaps even for sorcery

[] Ask Inge if there is some way you might deal with her own hasty vow now, you have plenty of coin

[] Meet with Fioke, on hopefully better terms, the man might be near as no matter a brigand, but there is use to a contact like him as long as he is friendly

[] Write in

OOC: And here are a bit more in the way of clues for how you got here, though I hasten to remind you that everything the characters say is their opinion and you should read no more than that into it. Roland feeling abandoned by God for instance says more about him than the metaphysics of anything.