A Destiny in Bronze (Bronze Age Fantasy)

I have updated the character sheet and added two new stats. Humanity and Divinity are core to the game and I've been tracking it mostly by vibe and hidden it. I've chosen to change that for reasons. Humanity and Divinity are somewhat oppositional stats; one rising will frequently cause the fall of another, though not always. They go from 0-10. Most humans are 10 Humanity and 0 Divinity, though some might manage a 1 in the latter.

A high Humanity lets you be more... human. You better understand humans and other mortals in general. You also find it more difficult to utilize mystical powers and abilities, at least without a proper filter (such as ritual, prayer, or items made for this purpose). Things you truly grasp--such as spear hardening, or minor precognitive skills--are exempt from this. A high Humanity is better for you in many respects, unless you simply desire power.

A high Divinity represents your grasp and understanding of matters beyond the ken of mortals. A high level of Divinity allows a greater exercise of mystical abilities without preparation. It will be necessary and important to raise this--in fact, your nature makes it inevitable. But you definitely want to keep your Humanity as intact as possible. Your grandfather's teaching is excellent for this, as is Puabi's. They have each managed a similar balance.

On the update--I've been distracted and plan on working on it during a long weekend I have. You will be meeting your crew and departing to kill some rocs, with a detour at the Titan on the way back. There you will make a decision as to killing it or not.

The arrow flew straight and true and the bird fell from the sky.

"So, am I in?" asked the young woman. She stood at the height of a regular woman, no Blood of the Prophet flowing through her veins, but she could certainly shoot a bow.

"I'll have to talk with Zana," your friend told her. "We'll let you know."

The woman doesn't look especially happy at this answer. A chance to break away from her home and establish herself doesn't come along often. And she had skill. You could admit that–until your grandfather had taught you, this woman would have easily outshot you. Even now you weren't exactly the most accurate, nor the fastest, but you no longer embarrassed yourself.

Before she gets the chance to argue, you approach. Your height and gleaming armor stops any argument. Ruth might be of the same House and lineage, but she didn't hold nearly your reputation, and she stood at least a head shorter and preferred leather armor to bronze. The woman chooses not to argue for a place, nods her head, and leaves.

"I didn't expect so many to try," Ruth mentions. "Most didn't want to, until they heard you were joining. After that… well, at least we have plenty of options."

Lapurras lay on his side, letting the sun warm his body. He had grown, vastly so, far outstripping what would be typical of an ocelot. You suspect that children could ride on his back, if he so wished it, and he had proven himself an able hunter.

"We just have to decide what sort of woman we want to bring. Beyond the obvious, I mean," you tell her. The obvious in this case meant the clearly Blooded recruits. Beyond the political implication of refusing them, you couldn't deny their performance, nor what your more esoteric senses told you.

The Blooded were simply more on some level.

"I can handle the scouting fairly well myself, and you aren't that bad yourself. But having a few women skilled could be useful," Ruth said. Left unsaid is that this, by far, had the highest compliment of the more mundane recruits.

"So it could," you admit. And a part of you wonders: the Blooded were simply more to your senses, just as those lacking in that gift were less. More mundane to be accurate. You knew that others existed with your talent. It didn't seem unlikely that demons and some monsters could do so as well.

Might scouting be an area that those which were more mundane might also be more overlooked? An interesting thought to be sure. Not one you could share. But certainly a benefit.

"This the place to join your band?" a gruff voice asked.

You had become so used to filtering Presences from your perception (at least in Zepath, where Presences often felt blinding) that the person had managed to sneak up on you.

She is a woman, you think, though she wears her hair like a man. A mixture of bronze and copper armor adorn her form. Not an uncommon mixture for people from a poorer background in Zepath, though most of the poor preferred to learn the bow instead. A single wicked scar marks where an opponent had narrowly missed her eye.

She burns to your Presence sense. Not so bright as a Mighty Man, but the equal of Ruth or most Blooded youth. She has the physique for it as well. She stands tall and broad, broader than any other potential recruit, and seems to use a large greatsword instead of the more traditional spear or shield. Unlike the armor, she appears to have one forged of High Silver. In fact… looking at the greatsword more closely, it is not of Zepathan make.

She must have claimed it from a slain Bnaimokt. Impressive.

"It is," Ruth answers the question. "We were about ready to leave, though."

The woman curses under her breath at this.

"Fuckers told me the wrong time," she said. "Tittering little shits. Can I try anyway? I don't want to miss the chance."

Ruth looks at you. It takes a moment to decide, and you give a single nod.

"You can. I'm assuming you use the greatsword, then?"

She just nods her head.

"Zana, do you want to test her? You're better in melee than I am," Ruth asks you. You simply nod your head and wave the woman to a small table that has been set up.

The woman heads in that direction and you follow. Ruth gives you a look and you aren't entirely sure what she means. But you can guess.

"First, I'm going to test your strength," you tell the woman. "You're obviously strong but, well, size isn't everything."

"Don't I know it. Fought this fucker back home once. A foot shorter than me but strong as all hell. A bandit or something, probably came from one of those fancy lines."

You aren't entirely sure how to respond to that. The woman obviously came from one of those "fancy lines" herself, based entirely on her size and the simple fact she could slay a Bnaimokt.

"You aren't from Zepath then?" you ask her as you sit down. The woman takes the seat opposite and takes your clasped hand. The arm-wrestling contest began.

The woman is strong. Stronger than you even. She immediately seizes an advantage and begins to push your hand down.

"Nah. I'm from up north. Never knew my dad but ma said he was some noble or something. Saved her from bandits and, well, one thing led to another and I was born. And ma was alone."

You feed the tiniest sliver of spirit into your frame. A surge of strength fills you and you push her hand back. You don't necessarily want to win this struggle. You do want to know her limits.

"Sounds like a difficult life," you respond. You can't even imagine not knowing your lineage.

The woman grunts with effort and begins to push your hand back even further. But she cannot battle against the spirit empowered endurance and it isn't long before she is thoroughly pushed back. She frowns at her loss but accepts it with magnanimity.

"I guess I'm out then?" she asks you.

"Not at all. You did really well, actually. But there's one more thing to do. A spar. Just you and me."

The woman grins at this. It is a wild thing, that grin, and you feel a slight discomfort at it.

"Name's Rahel," she says. You grasp her offered hand and reply in kind.

"I'm Zana," you reply.

The two of you stand a few feet apart. You hold a medium-length spear and shield and assume a ready stance. Rahel charges towards you at a remarkable speed. Her greatsword is already swinging at you.

Knowing the woman's strength, you opt to deflect the greatsword with your shield, not meeting the blow directly. In an instant, Rahel's guard is open, and your spear darts outward. The woman removes one hand from her greatsword and your shield pushes her attack even further aside.

Her newly freed hand grasps the shaft of your spear moments before your strike would land. She attempts to wrestle your weapon away from you but a bash with your shield pushes Rahel back. You separate again.

The spar continues like this for several minutes. Rahel has incredible strength behind her strikes and her choice of weapon allows her to bring it fully to bear. But she lacks technique. You suspect she hasn't had any real training. You doubt she would be of much use in a shield wall as she is, but with strength like that she doesn't really need to be in one.

In the end, Rahel lay on the ground, bleeding from several minor wounds. You stand completely untouched. You hadn't even used your future-sight to predict her attacks. She had been full of openings. Frankly, even a Zepathan farmer knew more of how to fight than Rahel, for all that she had strength and endurance in excess.

Still…

[] A Blooded woman without family to object to her sounds like a wonderful addition. You're certain that she can be made competent in time. It might be more dangerous crossing the wilds with her, but her presence will ultimately make you safer. You will provide a spear and shield to her, nothing truly remarkable, but enough that she can join a shield-wall against the truly dangerous enemies.

[] You have been in the wilds of the south before and heard tales from many others. The ability to form a shield-wall, skill with a bow, these are more critical than any amount of strength. Further, you do not know this woman, while you at least know of many of the other women that will join you. Rahel will not join your band.

[] More critical than any of this is piety. No amount of strength matters in the face of what doomed Tanaach so many centuries ago, nor will it allow you to stand against an assortment of other terrors. Each of the women joining you have demonstrated piety in their life. Rahel comes from the interior, a land well known for its heresy. You will quiz her on sacred law and, if she is amenable, teach what she does not know. If she does satisfactorily, she may join your band. She will not be as skilled a combatant but she will know the proper ways to raise an altar, beseech El for aid, and a number of other things that you believe to be critically important.

You aren't certain what to prioritize. Rahel certainly has to join the band. She's stronger than any of you and has come a long way. In every way she is qualified, all except one, and that may be remedied. It isn't really her fault she had been born to the barely civilized interior. You just had to correct these flaws and you had time to do that. After all, your group wouldn't be departing for two more months, and that could be delayed even further.

Can you do both? It wouldn't be as effective as focusing on a single thing… but Rahel seemed to have good instincts. The material was there, at least as a warrior, and so you begin with the more urgent issue.

You tell her to come with you. Rahel gives you a quizzical look but accepts.

The place you had been holding your "tests" had been some distance from the city itself, a half-day walk, and you speak with her as you travel.

"Tell me what brings you here. You are not Zepathan," you ask.

She doesn't respond for a moment.

"Might be. Don't know who my dad was. Some nobleman that saved my ma from bandits. She was, uh, grateful. Doubt he knows who I am, and he didn't really say where he came from."

It wasn't unheard of for such things to happen. It would bring shame to the family that had not provided for her, at least among your people, though it's unlikely she would ever learn her family line. Perhaps if a sufficiently worldly Blooded man chose to investigate it, he could learn something? You knew there were some methods for that.

"Anyway, folk back home didn't take well to me so traveled for a bit. Figured south, where all the barbarians live might be better."

A not uncommon description of your people. Zepa had traveled into the wilderness, as far from any other cities as he could, and had bult Zepath. There it had stood as a bulwark for generations nearly without end.

That part still galled you. A terrible word, that. Nearly without end.

By the time the two of you have reached the city gates, you have learned some disturbing facts about Rahel's upbringing. Beyond not knowing her father, she seemed absolutely convinced that stories of witches, demons, monsters, that they were all fake. She lacked piety as well.

"Never saw why ma and me had to give to the temple. Fat fucks never did anything. Just sat around tellin' their stories, eatin' their meat. Almost as bad as the nobles, they were."

This had nearly prompted an extreme reaction. But you had reminded yourself of a simple truth: the interior was deeply unclean (or the more colorful "shithole" you had heard your grandfather use once). The temples were not real temples, the priests were not real priests, and while you were expected to treat them as such–to harm even an impostor to the clergy invited El's wrath–you couldn't really disagree with the notion.

So you had simply held your tongue. Rahel would learn, you were sure.

Over the next two weeks you cram as much knowledge into Rahel's head as possible. She at first doesn't understand the reason for this.

"Don't understand why I need to know how to set up an altar, or how touching a corpse makes me 'unclean.' Touched plenty of corpses in my time, no bolts of lightning striking me."

After putting up with two days of half-hearted learning you had explained the situation to your grandmother, Naomi.

"Bring her here. We will host her for an evening," had been your grandmother's simple reply. You hadn't entirely understood but did as asked.

"Don't know if it's a good idea really. Sittin' in some fancy home. You live in the inner-walls, yeah? Don't really wanna go there."

"It's fine. Come as you are. My grandmother does this sometimes. I think she likes meeting new people."

It takes a bit of convincing but Rahel finally agrees to come. You almost think she's nervous? Or maybe embarrassed?

–

This is not what you had expected. Typically, dinners with your grandmother and guests are in a separate dining area. Your grandmother typically helps prepare the meal, though much of the work is done by servants, and you are left to socialize with the guests. The guests consist from various influential figures in Kavodel–be they old friends, Blooded men, wealthy merchants–as well as members of the poorest in the city. Both receive the same treatment.

What is not usual is for your grandfather to be present. He is almost always within his forge. Though your senses have been refined to the point that you realize there is something extremely strange about his Presence. It is difficult to describe, as all things involving your mystical senses are, but you have a distinct impression of orange-right-five-down rather than the usual blue-green-up-eighteen-left?

In more comprehensible terms, you're pretty sure he's concealing himself in some manner.
Your grandfather being present is not only a surprise to you, but Rahel simply stares for several seconds. She has likely never seen a man that is not only taller than her, but is taller than her while sitting.

Introductions go well enough. Though Rahel does perk up at hearing your grandfather's name.

"Enkidel? You're named after those stories?" she asks him.

"No. The stories are about me," is his reply. Rahel laughs at this like a joke for a few seconds. When nobody else laughs she looks around the table.

"You're joking, right? Those stories are old. And full of impossible things. Like, you didn't, with the dryads, right?"

Is that a blush? Yes. She seems… extremely embarrassed if anything. Maybe you should look into those stories sometime? You don't think any of the stories you've heard mention dryads.

"That part is not true. Much of what's told in the interior is not true."

From there the discussion continues. Rahel is at first disbelieving. Following the meal she is shown your grandfather's trophy room. Among the objects on display are truly immense swords, easily forty feet in length, forged of some sort of black metal. The massive skull of some sort of dragon creature, a large variety of bones from a massive number of beasts, artwork displaying particularly fierce battles… and another item you had never noticed before.

A crown of laurel leaves lay upon a cushion. It seems insignificant next to everything else (is that the preserved head of a gorgon?) but it does not register to your mystical senses. Beside it lay a club of red cedar. Spikes appear to be embedded within it. This does register to your mystical senses but it feels odd.

You reach forward to pick up the club… and find you cannot lift it. You feed a small amount of spirit into your frame and heft it with two hands.

You still cannot pick it up.

Rahel sees what you're doing.

"The club that heavy?" she asks.

"Yeah. Maybe if we work together we can move it? At least…"

Only just now realizing that you were attempting to mess with something of your grandfather's, you look to him for permission. He seems amused if anything.

"Let me try by myself first," Rahel says. You step back to watch her attempt.

She… easily lifts it on her first try. Your grandfather begins laughing. Somehow you feel like the butt of a joke.

"I don't know why you had such trouble? Yeah, it's heavy, but it isn't that bad?" Rahel says.

The rest of the "tour" concludes not long after. Your grandfather had answered several questions that Rahel had about his trophies and mementos and she seemed mostly satisfied. As the two of you step out into the chill night air, you feel like she might take some of these issues more seriously.

"I never really believed any of the stories," the woman says. "About any of them. Labaras, Enkidu, not even El. Seemed like a big excuse to keep us on the bottom and them on top. Still…"

She is seemingly lost in thought. You just let her think for a few minutes. It's probably not a good idea to bring up her lessons now. Maybe you should switch over to fighting for a bit?

–

The next morning, you meet Rahel in a field outside of the city. You had planned on finding a spear and shield for her but, as you had left your grandfather's home, a servant had pulled you aside. They carried a large bundle wrapped in cloth. Metal clanged together.

"This is a gift from the master," the servant tells you. "It is for your young friend. He said that a warrior needs proper equipment. If she is concerned, inform her there is no obligation to her in this. 'I am simply looking after my grand-daughter,' were the master's exact words. To have you enter the wilderness with a poorly armed companion would be foolhardy indeed."

You had taken the bundle but had not opened it. Rahel eyes it curiously. She desperately needs it. The pieces of bronze armor she has–instead of the more common copper–is not of especially high quality. You suppose whatever Bnaimokt she had slain for the sword had ill-fitting armor? Or perhaps she simply scavenged it from a battlefield?

"This is for you," you tell her. "Apparently, my grandfather liked you? Anyway, he had a servant deliver this to me. He wanted you to be aware there wasn't any obligation in this, I think he wanted to make sure the band is well equipped. He… spent a lot of time in the area we plan on going, and it can be very dangerous."

Rahel takes the bundle and opens it. Inside is a set of fine bronze armor. It bears no etching but the pieces themselves are clearly works of art. Each piece has a mirror shine and is unmarred by any marking, except a maker's mark hidden behind each piece. It is of a sandal, crossed by a bow and a club.

There is also a bow of fine make. It is not of the sort a Blooded warrior might use. This is fine–Rahel has no skill with the bow to begin with, and such bows require time to properly master. You just hope she can be made somewhat competent with the spear, shield, and bow before you set out.

"This armor is finer than the king's back home," she finally says. She doesn't say anything more. You spend the rest of that day getting her used to the feel of the armor. Each piece fits closely and may be worn more comfortably. You know from personal experience that few things could penetrate armor of that quality.

As the days pass on, you find Rahel to be a quick study. She quickly understands the basics of how to use a spear and adjusts to fighting opponents that equal her strength. You also teach her the very basics of appropriate spiritual practice. She pays more attention to this than she had at the beginning.

She still doesn't understand some of the rules. Frankly, you don't entirely understand them either, you just know they're important. Much like there were proper steps to building a Temple, there were proper ways to prepare food, offer sacrifice, eat food, and any number of other things. These things prove more difficult for her… but you think she will avoid doing anything truly egregious.

You figure that she can learn the Old Tales, or some of them, on the journey itself.

–

It is the final period of time before you depart. You will be meeting the rest of your band in the next update. What do you do with them in this time?

[] Gathering your band together and doing group exercises--spars, drills, and on the final day you will recruit an older Blooded man to act the part of a "monster." This will help further test each members abilities and give experience fighting a much stronger opponent. May benefit future cooperation.

[] Make additional Temple offerings. El is not a merchant. You cannot buy His favor, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to make one final offering...

[] Find your friends and acquaintances and spend time with them. This would include figures like Etana and Akki, and perhaps even Jacob.

Do you bring Lappuras with you? He is not trained for fighting... but he has become awfully large. You suspect he can look after himself if necessary. You don't really know how good his senses are but he might be able to warn you of approaching dangers?

[][Cat] Of course. If anything, we need more Lappuras! More! We demand it!

[][Cat] No, of course not, this could be dangerous!