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

[DragonParadox]

Spice of Life​

The Twenty First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

For all it was not the largest city he had seen, nor by any stretch of the imagination the richest, Apuku presented a conundrum unlike any other Antonio Giustiniani had faced in all his years of sailing. The trouble was not the language, which he spoke quite poorly yet, for the sly captain had made deals in places where he had to use his fingers to show price because he did not know by what names to call them. They had not been his best deals for certain, but they had not been the worst either.

No, it was a conundrum far more fundamental than that. As he walked the markets, looking about him at figures of amber polished like fire in the sun, tasseled leather kilts, braying goats and barking dogs he had no baseline by which to calibrate his mental scales. He did not know the worth of wine or grain, gems or oil, turmeric or sandalwood. I don't even know the worth of gold and silver much less how pure I should expect their hollow-heart coins. Without those base assumptions the market became a trap for the unwary and the foolish, himself no more clever than a rube from the hills come to trade in the old Forum. Either I ask for too little and get taken in for all I am worth, or I would ask for too much and be made a laughingstock.

Thankfully this was a riddle Antonio had been mulling over for quite a while, in truth ever since they had found the girl who spoke no known tongue in a village unlike anything he had ever seen on the shores of the Middle Sea. He would need a local contact. No, more than that. He would need a local partner to help him navigate the currents of commerce, the song of gold and silver, though of course he would most of all need to trust them to give good counsel and not simply play their part in taking him in for a fool.

For that he had a plan. There was a good reason why he had paid the urchin to take him to a smith and it was not to buy their craft, sharp and true though it be.

Alas, that is where his plan hit a snag. The Teranoa had no interest in dealing with a man who had nothing substantive to sell them, only promises and the clink of iron chain. 'We are not peddlers of ill-made goods and strange notions, but craftsmen,' they had told him in less pleasant tones and so he had taken his business elsewhere...

***​

The Twenty Third of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

Onogu of the Iranea was a man of far greater vision, for all that his eyes were blind to the light of the world... or perhaps because it. He ran the chain through his fingers thoughtfully. "Let us see how much water your words hold... and how much blood." Swift as a striking snake he had pulled a dagger from somewhere in his robes, heavy at the hilt and coming to a triangular point like the tooth of a shark.

The scrape of metal on metal rang through the room, yet the chain lost nothing but the thin patina of rust.

"Well?" Antonio asked in challenge.

Eyes white and unseeing turned upon him, and without any hesitation he slid the knife upon his palm in what Antonio understood to be the general sign for a vow, though for vows that were not made in hallowed name the knife need not break the skin. "We shall aid you in seeing to the needs of your cargo and your ship."

All men were by their nature treacherous, Antonio knew that all too well, not least from looking in the mirror, but they could be made trustworthy by giving them a long-term stake in one's success. The Iranea would get their chance to imitate chainmail once his cargo had been sold and his ship had been seen to, more than enough time to tell if the bargain had been fair and the old man knew that as well as Antonio.

Gained Rival: Clan Teranoa

Gained Ally: Clan Iranea

In the end he managed to find buyers for the turmeric and the sandalwood among merchants who planned to sail it further south down the arid coasts to the Inaurna Empire. Given how much the Marcella struggled with the seas from the straights to the islands Antonio wished them all the luck. The locals had less of a taste for ginger or a nose for myrrh to the point where he would likely get better prices elsewhere according to his new partner, and so Antonio held back.

Spoiler: Deals made

6 tons of turmeric -> Sold for 6,612 Gold
5 tons of ginger -> Unsold
4 tons of sandalwood -> Sold for 4,848 Gold
6 Tons of myrrh -> Unsold

Of course it was possible that he could have squeezed a few more coppers out of the deals he had made by giving them a song and dance, but one never knew when it might be imperative to leave port, particularly given that his noble companion was even now in the company of the king. Not that Antonio did not trust the knight's sense, that one used his head for more than a place to set his helm. A touch dour true and more than a touch sentimental, but the first could be borne and the second might even be useful as taking in the strange girl-child had shown.

OOC: I am using Gold as an abstraction when it comes to the mechanics because I do not think you guys would have much fun with currency speculation simulation. Really I could have had these societies not have coin at all, but that would have been even more cumbersome to play. Fluff wise 'gold' will not always even be coin, just a comparatively compact means of exchange. Reaction next, you guys might want to brainstorm how you deal with being in another world, a good response will give a bonus to the roll for mental balance.

 

[DragonParadox]

Shattered Foundation ​

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

In all the days you have known him you have not seen Zaia drunk, in fact you have never seen the scholar partake enough to even slur his words, much less stumble forward hanging off the shoulders of Aubert and Jean. "Sailors drank the fucker under the table," the latter says with the kind of bitter laugh that leaves you to suspect the good doctor had not been overly generous in sharing his drink.

"Talk about it in the morning... hard enough to believe... when I'm sober..." Zaia manages to get out, struggling to find the words

You might have left it at that and gone to bed untroubled had you not seen tangles in his beard from running his fingers too roughly through it and the redness in his eyes. Had he been crying?

Alas, Aubert and Jean have no answers for he had not taught them a damn thing apparently. 'All high and mighty with his fancy books he is', the former says and perhaps that is all there is to the tale, but as the faint sliver of moonlight slips into the clouds you cannot think of anything but the sight of those bloodshot eyes which follow you into your dreams.

Yet the strangest dreams and blackest nightmares could not prepare you for the news that the scholar imparts in the harsh morning's light... for the sight of the chart laid out before you. At first the lines are as unfamiliar to you as the odd seals of the Anwari script, then you recall looking over the charts of the Princess Maria, the ship that had taken you to the holy land. You had been driven by haste then, hungry for glory and for absolution, so you had asked the man to explain which lands where which and how many days you might count from one port to the other.

"You found a map of home?" you ask, a surge of joy in your chest, even as your stomach informs you that it is not yet ready for another long journey over strange and storm tossed waters. Perhaps you should wait for summer... it would do little good to set out for home only find your end beneath the waves.

"Not home, not the lands we know, only the bones of them garbed in strange flesh..." the scholar sighed and visibly gathers himself. "It is more than the skies that have changed, it is the land. These are lands we have passed through. This... " he stabs a finger down at the chart. "Is where the storm sent us and these are the Spear Islands where we found the girl and the dead that waked. These are the Straits of Gades, called by some the Straits of Heracles..." More parchment rustled. "And this is where we are."

"Slower please good man, I do not understand...." Or perhaps you do not wish to understand. You feel the smile slide from your lips, your chest tense as though in expectation of some blow from the blue. It is as though you are standing once more in the cabin still roiling with the last waves of the storm.

'Good news and bad all comes in threes', you remember your grandmother saying long, long ago. The winter cough had carried her off when you were a child barely out of leading strings, such that you could not recall her face, only the warmth of her hand and the kindness in her voice. Father had called it nonsense and mother had laughed and said you need not concern yourself with that for many a year.

"It was not only the skies that changed when we passed through that strange storm," the doctor explains. "We did not pass from one place to another, crossing lands and waters in a single stride. I fear we must have gone much, much further as only the mind of God can in its fullness grasp..." Slowly and with care, or perhaps with the hesitation of a man who wants to be told that he is wrong, he lays down his reasoning forged of many pieces, from the place where the spices are grown to the form of the charts before you, to the accounts of sailors who gad traveled far and wide.

Would that you could say Zaia is wrong...

But he had proven himself wise in things great and small, without his aid
you would be as deaf and dumb as a rock in the face of this strange land. ​

Would that you could say Zaia is lying...

But he had shown himself a man honorable as he is bold,
and were that even no so he would have nothing to gain from a lie ​

It is as though a gaping abyss had opened beneath your feet, as though you had expected walk upon firm stone and instead found naught but shifting sands.

How does Roland feel?

[] Angry, at Zaia at fate, at God for setting him to wander in the wilds without hope of return

[] Numb, there is nothing you can do, nowhere you can go, just keep putting one foot in front of the other and hope things will make sense eventually

[] Determined, you will find your way home somehow come what may, you will cross oceans and forests, cold plains and grinding ice. As God is your witness you will get home

OOC: No write-in in this case, since this is too shocking not to have some kind of psychological impact. Given how Zaia has acted and how you voted to act towards him disbelief is not in the cards, not that I think you guys would be inclined to take that vote even if it were available.

 

[DragonParadox]

On Darkened Ways ​

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

You do not hear what Zaia is saying, not really, but you answer... something appropriate you are sure. Yes you understand, yes it makes sense, no you do not bear him any rancor. Part of you wishes that you could feel angry... that you could feel anything, but the smoldering fire that had been lit in your heart after the horror and disgrace of the war in Egypt seems to have gone out. You do not feel anything at all, it is all too big and too distant, as though you had tumbled into a song about the man lost in Elfland. There will be no returning for you from this land, this world, no way out and no way forward.

How long you sit in the chair by the window staring at nothing you can only guess by the shifting shadows. It is afternoon, but you are not hungry in the least. If you do not eat you will starve and so eat you do, tasting nothing. Tom looks troubled to see you but you shake your head and turn to your food. There is nothing he can do, there is nothing any of you can do.

Still, duty moves you from your seat for you had promised to speak more to Hugh today about his healing. "Strange fellow this Ohun, but not a wicked one I would say." The smile sits strangely upon your lips and words of reassurance do not come easy. "All he asked is that we go take a look at some stones for him, being as we have horses and his folk don't..."

"A tale to tell my grandchildren that," the man gives a shaky laugh. "Assuming my layabout of a son ever gets to siring any 'fore I die."

We are all going to die in this land. You do not say the words, but something of them must have shown on your face for his expression darkens and he says hesitantly. "You did the best you could, my lord. If Saint Peter asks about me being late for judgement I'll say it was from a bargain well meant, no matter how it turns in the end. "

"Thank you," the tone sounds a little more like you and you do mean it. Even if you have nothing else, no hope of seeing kin and home again, you still have your duty to your men and the oath you had sworn with Zaia and Antonio, one that will bind you now to the end of your days. One foot in front of the other until the path runs out, it is the best you can do, the only thing you can do.

Though the light of day still seems darkened to your eyes the ground is a little more solid beneath your feet as you head out to see Silver. He would not care about which world he was on so long he did not have to get on a boat again. Would he have to? Suddenly the future looms before you trackless and uncertain. If there is no return home than should you just remain here, an oddity at the court of a petty king, selling your sword for salt and bread? Or should you instead sail away with Antonio... and what, guard him as he grows ever more rich off dealings honest and not?

You pass through the gates of the town caring little of the stares of the guards, but then just ahead you see a glimmer of white light, familiar in its strangeness. What was Inge doing out here alone?

Looking for you it seems and worried about you. "Doctor give... did the doctor give you bad news?" She frowns, her expression almost comically offended. "All your tongues silly tongues."

You shake your head, the faintest glimmer of amusement lighting your thoughts. "I suppose they are." After considering her other question you reply vaguely. "He just had news about where we are, and it was not what I wanted to hear."

"I am sorry you had to get lost to find me," the child says slowly. Then the light in her eyes changes to something altogether harder. "I'll help you find your way home, no matter how long it takes, how far it is."

Though your heart goes out to her you know that is a task beyond her no matter the strange powers she wields. "It is too far..."

The girl looks up at you for a long moment and there is no sound but the wind playing in the grass and far away the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. "Then I help you make new home here on islands or in southlands where the towers go up to the sky or in Blue Sea lands where the merchants trade in yellow gold and bright bronze, even in white ice lands where Ikomi's breath blows. Where you go, I go." There is a weight to the words far beyond her years.

How do you react?

[] Accept, a strange oath to take, but no stranger than the hour it is made and you will not deny a generous heart

[] Refuse, you do not wish to see the girl shackled to your wanderings

[] Write in

OOC: I went back and forth a lot here on whether to give you a mechanical flaw for numb (or any of the other choices) and in the end I decided no since for balance reasons I would also have had to make a vote for a feat or trait to balance it out and it would have fit in this chapter about as well as a pig falling from outer space. So instead on your next level up you will be given the option to pick up a re-fluffed Weak Will in exchange for an extra feat. Also Inge made a decent Diplomacy roll against Roland's Sense Motive so she got through to him a bit. For anyone wondering the +5 is circumstantial because of who she is and what she is offering. Inge is not actually very good at this.

 

[DragonParadox]

Small Magics ​

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

Looking down at Inge you see more than a girl-child, more than a sorceress, you see one who is herself seeking a place in the world after setting out into it and finding only death and ruin. "Far be it from me to deny a generous heart, young one. You are free to accompany me as far as you wish, though I shall not hold you to seeing the end of a journey which even I do not see the end of."

She opens her mouth, closes it, expecting perhaps that she would have to argue longer. A small shy smile steals over her face. "Maybe you not have to stop, maybe journey be home, rocked on Her waves."

"Alas, I do not have such love of the sea young one, but we shall see. For now I would rather keep to my own two feet, or better yet to Silver's hooves..."

And thus you do, your old friend eager for the chance to ride under the sun after all the weeks he had spent in the darkness of the hold. The sun is high, the sky is blue and the wind is warm rippling through your hair. Faster and faster you ride, hoping perhaps to outrun the shadows of your own thoughts and for a few stolen hours in the sun you do. You are not sure why Inge had brought a basket out for lunch, or for that matter where she had been keeping it, but you are not one to looks a gift horse in the mouth, if Silver would pardon the expression. The bread is still fresh, the goat's cheese is pleasantly sharp and the boiled eggs are nice, though you still do not know what laid them, some kind of pheasant from the description maybe. Inge had even brought a small watermelon along.

The two of you eat under the fragrant crown of a laurel tree, the shadows of growing evening turned soft green. Wary as you are now in mind and heart, and thanks to the ride in body too, it seems the simplest thing to question Inge on matters which you had so far shied away from, the workings of her magic and the ways of her goddess.

While she struggles to explain the latter for in her own words, 'Ikomi has as many moods as the sea', she is surprisingly forthright as to the former. She can in some manner 'see' magic when she chooses to and as long as she is in sight of the sea she can always find north, south, east and west even with her eyes closed, a skill for which you suspect Antonio will want to hire her for even if she had no other. She can also conjure light to see by, 'for the living and the dead alike' in her own words and...

"Alright, you can try..." Maybe you are a little mad to let her try this on you, but then this has been a rather mad day.

Inge whispers something, like the wind passing through bay leaves, and for just a moment you feel a flash of insight. You do not know what else to call it, or even if there are words for the feeling in any of the tongues you know.

"A little nudge from the other side. You can use it to duck out of way or hit true with sword, can use it to jump, ride and swim, just a little nudge though." The girl shrugs a little awkwardly. "It does not always work, but it is small magic see. It works on anyone though."

"Anyone?" Strange as it might be to consider that the goddess of which she speaks exists in some manner it is stranger to think that she would give counsel to anyone.

"Anyone I choose; me, you, Silver, all the same," Inge confirms, tossing a piece of sweet melon at the horse for emphasis. "All that is small magic. I can do... that I can do when I like. Then there is big magic, only so much big magic I can do before it goes dry. Three times each day now, mist or..." she pauses a long moment, then her voice falls to a near-whisper. "Ice."

You nod quickly, needing no demonstration, the image of the already dead Ilfa's chest exploding in a flash of unnatural ice heavier than a warhammer's blow is not one you will soon forget.

Sounding more subdued she continues. "I can make magic stronger by touching the world-magic, the streams like in the temple, like the standing stones where Ohun wants you to look. I think he wants me to look too."

Spoiler: Inge's Character sheet

Name: Inge
Alias: Sea-seeker
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Age: 9
Race: Human (Small Humanoid Child)
Level: 1
Class: Witch 1 (Ley Line Guardian, Sea Witch)
Feats: Extra Hex* Touch of the Sea (Stage One)**,
Traits: Easy Target, Savage, Guiding Spirit
Class Features: Patron (Storms);

*Feat consumed to allow the character to take both archetypes
**Benefits apply to Water spells, not evil

HP: 7/7
AC: 10 +3 (DEX) -1 (Easy Target) = 12
Initiative: +3 (DEX)
Attack: +0 (BAB)
Spell Save: 10 +3 (INT) +1 (Water) + spell level
Weapon Proficiency: Staff

STATS:
7 (-2) Strength
16 (+3) Dexterity
12 (+1) Constitution
16 (+3) Intelligence
10 (+0) Wisdom
12 (+1) Charisma

SAVES:
FORTITUDE: 0 +1 (CON) = 1
REFLEX: 0 +3 (DEX) = 3
WILL: 2 +0 (WIS) = 2

SKILLS
Intimidate: 4 +1 (CHA) = 5
Knowledge (arcana): 4 +3 (INT) = 7
Knowledge (nature): 4 +3 (INT) +1 (Savage) = 8
Spellcraft: 4 +3 (INT) = 7
Survival: 4 +0 (WIS) +1 (Savage) = 5

Spells Known (CL 1):
Level 0: Detect Magic, Guidance, Light, Stabilize (At will)
Level 1: Snowball, Obscuring Mist (3/day)

Spell-like Abilities:
Know Direction (At Will when near the sea)

Special Abilities
Conduit Surge: At 1st level, a ley line guardian is adept at channeling energy from ley lines to enhance her own spells. As a swift action, she can increase her effective caster level for the next spell she casts in that round by 1d4–1 levels. After performing a conduit surge, the ley line guardian must succeed at a Fortitude save (DC = 10 + level of spell cast + number of additional caster levels granted) or become staggered for a number of minutes equal to the level of the spell cast.
Sea Creature Empathy: A sea witch can influence the attitude of water-dwelling animals and animals that live along coasts and shores, including birds, as if using wild empathy. The sea witch uses her witch level as her druid level for this ability. If the sea witch has wild empathy from another class, her witch levels stack with the other class's levels to determine her wild empathy bonus for these kinds of creatures.
Guiding Spirit: Once per day as a swift action, you can look to your guiding spirit for advice. The next time you roll a d20 in that same round, roll twice and pick the better result. If one of these two rolls is a natural 20, you can use this ability again that same day.

For all stings your pride to think that you had been tasked with a mission on the assumption that you would have a child's aid it does make sense. You know nothing of magic or its ways, perhaps you might not even be able to spot the trouble without Inge's second sight. Hopefully in this at least you had made a good choice.

Who do you set out with on the morrow in search of the Standing stones Ohun spoke of?

[] Write in (Inge included automatically; Antonio will be harder to persuade as he has not yet sold all of his cargo and does not wish to leave his ship)

OOC: As a child Inge would normally only get one trait, but she gets one more due to Easy Target, since she is not combat trained in anyway.

 

[DragonParadox]

Of Riders and Walkers ​

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

Beyond the walls of Apuku the path winds between the trunks of odd trees with scaly bark, their long graceful bodies opening into feathery green crowns that cast delicate shadows over your path. The air is filled with short sharp calls of nameless birds, their wings a flash of fitful color in the bright southern sun. No path made for horses this and so Silver walks with a careful stride, parting the underbrush and sending dozens of small scuttling things fleeing from his path. In your wake come Jean, Henri, Nico and Tam's horses, like liegemen following a gracious lord.

Spoiler: Palm Forest

Suddenly a hiss rings out from the rustling leaves to the left of the path and a far larger creature darts out, mayhap the largest lizard any of you have ever seen. Three feet from scaled snout to long whipping tail, and as it thrashes its head in warning you see that its throat is sky blue and its eyes the color of old gold.

"Don't suppose that one's a dragon fit to scorch us if we take one more step, is it?" Jean asks in jest.

Spoiler: Great Lizard

Somewhat to your surprise Inge understands and turning in the saddle she answers in something about halfway between French and the Sicilian she had first learned. "Do not mock the Great Ones, is back luck..."

She does not mean the lizards, you realize with an uncomfortable lurch, as though Silver had stepped into a hole. Are there dragons in this land? You wonder. For certain you are no Saint George.

Before any of you can speak again the lizard runs off, its reptilian pride perhaps assuaged, and the six of you ride on in silence.

The ground grows stonier as you pass into the south and the feather-trees give ways to brilliant green laurel leaves watered by small streams, like fingers of water reaching through the hills. Here the path grows worse, pitted and tangled with grasping roots until at last you come to a tree old rotted to the core that had fallen across it. Mushrooms like fleshy shelves grew from it damp bark and a smell like onto that of a rotting carcass rose from it.

As Jean and Tam dismount to move the thing aside Inge calls out: "No, don't touch..." Her face shows more than disgust at the smell, fear and perhaps sadness you do not understand. The girl slides off the horse, wincing at the pain of unaccustomed riding, but her eyes are still on the log. "This is not good, not good at all. A Warding Wood fallen. That's a tree with old wise spirit." She knocks on the wood, then listens carefully as if expecting to hear something answer back, but there is nothing save the sounds of the forest. "Should stop for food before we go higher," the girl adds.

"Aye, my stomach could do with a bit of trail bread after moving that," Jean says, earning himself a glare from Silent Tam.

The log breaks as it is being moved, spilling thick red sap like rotted blood over the ground in a shower of worms and insects that sends all the horses into a fright.

Once you have made camp a little away from the road in a hollow guarded from the wind Inge does not touch the food but instead stares into the fire, her lips moving slightly as one who tells a story to themselves, then she turns to you and translates.

"We Anwa are not the first folk on the islands, not first to craft with hands or speak with voices. Before us there were the Woods Walkers who did not make houses of stone nor worked with tools of iron and dwelt only in the branches of the Hearth Trees. We learned much from them when Umatilshe the Mariner came over the water to take land in the isles, of the trees that flow with the blood of the land and of the birds of the air and the beasts of the earth, which to hunt and which to leave be, but the Woods Walkers were few and lived apart from each other and we were many and lived together and tilled the land in great swaths with the Horn of Ashinu. They fled the great noise of our coming and many winters past they sang themselves into the land in quiet lonely places. When you see beast that is not beast and tree that is not tree they are the old ones watching."

"What do they want then, these almost-men?" you ask, voice falling to a whisper without meaning to, as though some part of you is worried at being overheard by spirits from the rustling trees.

"Many want many things; some to be left alone, singing songs of wind and rain to themselves, some to take offerings of bread and nuts. Some want blood and tears for broken bough and stolen fruit of the land, some lay with men and some trick and kill. Many, many stories to tell, no time to tell them now." She pauses for a few moments before continuing. "Old Spirit Tree this close to path must have been left to grow, must have been friend of Stone Keepers. Now it is dead, spirit gone, something killed it," There is no hint of doubt in Inge's voice. "No way to tell what did it, other spirit or man with magic, rot runs too deep."

"That has been there for a while though, surely, too long to have anything to do with our charge," you reply, resolving then and there that you would listen to more of these tales when time was not so short.

Inge shakes her head firmly enough that it sends a lock of her hair tumbling over her eyes which she then futilely tries to blow away. "No, there us much magic in trees, much life, rot eats life."

By the time you return to the tree is is already late afternoon, the sun just starting to gleam red in the sky as it descends and in that fading light you see something among the splintered wood of the defiled tree... it looks like a dagger made of smooth pale wood as though grown from a single piece, the same color as the shards around it but unmistakable in purpose, a weapon of the dead for vengeance meant. Inge claims some of the magic of the tree clings to it, but she does not know for certain if it is wise or not to take it up.

Do you take the strange dagger?

[] Yes, you will need a weapon that can harm things that are of magic

[] No, leave this mournful place behind its treasure untouched

[] Write in

OOC: Not a lot of action in this one but some lore. Hope you guys enjoy.

 

[DragonParadox]

A Perilous Vice ​

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

For a long moment you can but stare at the sorcery with no sorcerer to cast it, at the work of craft with no craftsman to carve it, that is no splinter cast by chance but a dagger made with a purpose. A weapon of vengeance grown from the heart of the dead? You had seen stranger things these past months, but then you have seen more perilous things also. Thus you wrap the dagger tightly in cloth tie it off with rope, a riddle for another time. Later can have it examined and properly destroyed if needed, or use if proven safe. It might even be important evidence of our mission should it have any relation to standing stones later.

"Pale moonlight lies upon the blade," Inge says softly as though half in a dream, her eyes filled with some sight beyond the light of common day "The tide has shifted out, but it has not yet come in yet the hour will not be held back." She shakes herself. "Foresight... the dagger has the power of forsight, likely to seek a foe that had worked harm upon the tree."

"And if we are not so fortunate as to have found a weapon suited to it on the eve of battle?" Your prompt

"Then perhaps it might seek some foe of its maker which is no foe of yours and grand false augury and traitor gaze." She carefully takes the wrapped bundle from your hands and slides it into the saddlebags. "That would be the Sphere of enchantment and not farsight, but one should not trust magic to be as stone unchanging, but know it to be as the flowing water ever at your feet."

"I cannot say I will find that hard, present company excluded of course." Your jest is rewarded with a laugh, a giggle really, the most childlike sound you have heard from Inge yet.

Alas the last note of it is quick to fade among the echoes of sharp stone and dark green bough. You nod to the men behind you, the sign worth more than a dozen words might, be on your guard and keep your weapons ready.

As you turn the final corner in the winding path there is no rustle in the underbrush, not even the song of a bird to break the silence, only the sound of iron shod hooves on stone, as strange to these islands as the sight before you is to Norman eyes. The crest of the hill had been flattened by the work of human hands and about it set three standing stones three times a tall man's height, all black as ash and all carved with a strange sharp script unlike any you had seen among the Anwa so far. Yet your eyes to not long linger upon the stones for between them lies a round well that at first seems deep and dark, but then in the light of fading evening flashes old and there you see a pile of gold sparkling, necklaces and armbands, coins and...

"Offerings to the gods, we aught not touch..."

Inge's words do not so much fall upon deaf ears as upon the ears filled with the song of greed and the lust for gold. Jean slides off his horse with practiced ease and practically runs towards the edge of the well. Before you can give more than a shout of warning he reaches into the water.... and something reaches out. You think you catch a glimpse of lithe silvery limbs and hair white as new spun snow, but you could not put a name to it.

Jean starts to cough and hack as a drowning man even as he rolls backwards onto the stony ground.

"Wait!" Inge shouts as you throw yourself off silver to try to offer what help you may. "He failed the guardian's test, if you interfere we will have to fight it!"

What do you do?

[] Guardian be damned you are not going to let any man of Verley die under your eyes

[] Listen to Inge, Jean made his bed now he will have to lie in it, you will not risk the lives of everyone else here because of his greed

[] Write in

OOC: Inge did identify the being you face, but there is only so much she can shout at you in a few seconds. Not yet edited

 

[DragonParadox]

Quicksilver Voice ​

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

"Stop, I beg thee!" you call out towards the well, even as you motion for the others to stay back, words tumble from your lips so swift your tongue almost trips over them. "We are strangers to these lands, coming from a place where the lure of gold is terrible indeed. If there be any price to pay for this man's transgression then let me as his lord pay it in full."

Jean twists and writhes on the ground as you speak, like some horrid seeming of a fish thrashing on land, as water spurts from his mouth and nose, his eyes roll back in his head and it is all that you can do not to rush to aid him at once but listen for an answer.

One comes like water bubbling over stone yet speaking the language of the land. "Men clad in iron"... the word is near to being a curse, "come to my well with greed in their heart yet seek to be spared my kiss as though greed were some sickness and not the work of their own will."

That which rose from the water had the shape of a man, but it was as no kin to Adam, no son of Eve. His skin was grey as a misty morn, hair white as sea-foam rippling down to his shoulders framing a face fair as you had only before seen carved in stone or painted upon glass, and indeed it seems as if some secret light flows through him from realms beyond this one. There is no treasure in the water behind him, you realize distantly, hidden perhaps by some glamor.

The remainder of your men lift their blades at the sight or else start to raise arrow to bow, but none of them can meet the spirit's eyes. Before you on Silver you feel Inge tense, the air grows chill and your breath steams in it. She does not shy from the guardian's eye.

After a moment the spirit speaks again, words like a song flowing. "Mortals are so slow to learn, and..." he glances at Jean as the man finally manages a great hacking cough that leaves him stretched out on the ground, stirring weakly. "So quick to forget. If I should slay you than none shall learn from your error, so perhaps a task. Yes, a task to wipe away your debt, your sin before this holy place. Slay the invaders from the south, the men of Inaurna, and recover from them the skulls of my fallen kin of bright wing which they have stolen and defiled. Do this and I shall count your trespass repaid in full."

At first you breathe a sigh of relief, you had been sent here to see to the disturbance at the stones, if you should happen to put paid the threat than no doubt Ohun will be glad of it and Jean's folly will be atoned for, but as he speaks you spy, or think you spy, a false note in the song. He seems too swift, this guardian spirit, to pass from talk of slaying you to charging you with recovering the bones of his kin. Does such a creature even have bones?

Focus Roland! You shake your head to dispel unwelcome wanderings. This is not a man so perhaps it is commonplace for such as he to change like the wind, but somehow you do not think so. He seems to eager to hear you give the word, too quick to lay it all out before you. Yet hidden purpose or no can you afford not to give your word, with one man half-drowned and barely breathing, not even knowing if honest steel can harm the one before you?

"Where are these foes of yours and how great their numbers?" you ask to give yourself time to think as much as because you need to know the answer.

"Only three yet live and you are five even without the fool," comes the reply. "One among their numbers is a sorcerer-poet who weaves twisted verses, but the others are naught but common guards and all of them afoot. If you should come upon them from behind atop your beasts then you shall surely slay them. For my part I have no interest in their weapons or their coin, only the skulls, all else you may keep as you please."

"That answers who but not the where," Inge interjects. "Horses legs are long, but not so swift as a bird on the wing."

"I shall send a guide," the spirit replies, his voice losing its dreadful edge, a softer melody in the weaving. "The defilers are no more than three leagues distant as the crow flies, four and a half as your beasts can walk. Soon they shall camp for the night and you may ride through the dark hours to find them and to bring justice upon them."

What do you do?

[] Take the water spirit's deal

[] Ask more questions
-[] Write in

[] No, there is some trickery a foot here, attack
-[] Write in plan

[] Write in

OOC: Whelp color me impressed, you somehow managed to beat the bluff roll of a being with +17 Bluff. Just narrowly and only because you were on your horse, but a win is a win, so you know it is trying to deceive you somehow. Jean made his second save so he is now stable at 0 HP.

 

[DragonParadox]

Of Menace and Mirth ​

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

"I have more questions before I can say yea or nay," you reply at length.

Alas, the well spirit does not take the answer well. "Questions, questions, mortals always have more of them, especially when they think they can get answers and not pay for them. Know then that I am not minded to reward thee for thine impertinence, man of iron."

"I asked that you should spare my man despite his faults, yet what would it serve me to see one armsman spared only for all the rest of my company to suffer from battle taken up in rank ignorance?" You keep your tone even, but your gaze does not waver. You swore that you would dance to no man's strings when you took ship from Egypt and you are not minded to let this thing change that simply because it might not be wholly a man.

The spirit sighs, the sound like onto wind on silver harp strings playing. "Ask then but be quick. If you wished for an oracle you should have come with offerings."

What offerings... No, now is not the time to be distracted from your purpose. Instead you ask how long it had been since the invaders committed their crime.

"They stole the skulls two hours past noon," comes the quick reply. Quick but odd just the same. It had been more than two days since Ohun had asked you to scout the stones for some disturbance, so the this could not be the cause. The dead tree must have been there for longer as well, even if magic made the rot swifter you do not think it would turn hours into weeks.

"What do they seek to do with the remains?" you press.

"The dance of souls and the song of death is not something which can in a moment be revealed, even if I was of a mind to do so." The spirit turns one too-bright eye on Inge and says. "They seek to use death magic by relic and ritual cast, is the prospect frightful enough for you to move the Man of Iron to the task?"

"Ilfa never taught me that sort of magic," the girl admits hesitantly, speaking French you assume so as not to reveal her words to the guardian. "But I do know there are precious few good uses for it. It's like tools. If you make a jug from clay, what it is most suited for is carrying water. You could roll it to mash grain to feed the hungry, but it would not be fit for the task."

"And death magic..." you trail off, not wishing to give voice to dark suspicions.

"Will make things like you saw on the island, dead that wander in the land of the living," the girl replies grimly.

Hearing this you turn to the sweat-voiced spirit and ask bluntly. "You said there were three yet living of the foe you wish us to strike down, but how many were there before and are there any who are dead yet can still move and fight?"

At this the guardian tosses his head and laughs, the sound so entrancing, so infections, that it makes Nico laugh only for the boy to snap his mouth closed with a look of horror on his face as he looks to his fallen comrade. Not that the spirit pays him any mind, when his laughter abates he simply says. "A cleverer question than I thought you might ask mortal. No, there are none untimely summoned from Beyond the Pale of the world with them and the trespassers once counted their numbers at five. Have I answered all that you wished to know?"

It is clear which answer he wished to hear, but perhaps you have amused him enough to give the other.

What do you reply?

[] Yes
-[] And you shall make the vow
-[] But you are not minded to make pledges to one who would set a dagger to your throat (Write in plan of attack)

[] No, you have more questions
-[] Write in

[] Write in

OOC: I have to say this flowed really well, hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

 

[DragonParadox]

Eyes Wide Open ​

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

Though you have no love of being sent out to kill in the name of one who speaks with twisted tongue, you do not think you know enough of him and his kind to straighten it, and from how silent Inge has been you do not think she is likely to know much more. "Very well, I pledge to deal with these invaders and return the skulls of your kin to you."

No sooner had the words passed your lips that the water spirit gives smiles with far more teeth than aught to fit in a human mouth and then without another word he vanishes, leaving naught but a shimmer in the air.

As you and Inge rush to sea to Jean the others keep a weary eye for more peril, or for the guide you had been promised, but nothing emerges from the dark green of the forest or the cold silence of the stones. The girl's lips move in the quiet utterance of what might be spell or prayer or something in between. "Ikomi will not swift take him, but he will not soon be able to fight or ride I think. Someone will have to stay with him."

"Stay... stay..." a small voice twitters from the branches above your head. "That wasn't the deal at all, no no, not the deal at all..."

You look up to see at first the points of small golden eyes among the branches, then a figure emerges as though wrought for evening's shadows. She bears a shawl of laurel leaves and on her head a strange horned helm. From branch to branch she skips and flies on wings as fine as gossamer and you see now in her hand a bow that seems too small to harm anything larger than a frog or squirrel, but which you still glance at warily. You have seen too much that is odd in this land to discount any weapon.

Spoiler: Sprite

"I vowed to see the task to its end, speaking in the name of all our company, but we did not forswear all care for each other or simple sense. A man half-drowned set on a horse will see no battle," you answer sharply.

"Fleshlings are so fragile," she says with what might be a laugh, a sigh or anything between them. "Set him down then and let's be off. Ukuhamba will see him guarded."

"Better for him to be under the eye of his own kin," you reply, as tactfully as you are able. There are only so many ways to say you are not going to leave Jean in the keeping of the being who was responsible for him being half-drowned in the first place. Belatedly you add. "What may we call you?"

"Irieje, yes, I think that is what I shall be called today," she giggles strangely. It takes you a moment to translate the name, Blood Dew. There are worse things for one who leads you into battle to be called you suppose, but you do not translate the name.

Just then Jean opens his eyes and stirs with a purpose. He looks first to you, then to his fellows, all grim faced and troubled and groans. "Fuck."

He does you must admit have a way with words.

What do you say to Jean about his actions?

[] Write in

Who do you leave to guard Jean?

[] Tam (Spearman)

[] Henri (Archer)

[] Nico (Archer)

What do you do along the way to the enemy camp?

[] Try to get more information out of Irieje
-[] About the trespassers
-[] About herself and Ukuhamba
-[] Write in

[] Ask Inge
-[] About the Inaurna Empire and what sort of foe those from that land are likely to make
-[] About the Lonely Ones, particularly those you have met
-[] Write in

[] Write in

OOC: Shorter than I like, but kind of unavoidable because there is so much to deal with vote-wise.

 

[DragonParadox]

Tales on the Wind ​

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

Before any more words are spoken you hustle everyone away from the stones and their strange guardian. Truth be told you would rather not be overheard by the 'guide' you had been sent. Alas, you could not afford to offer insult and did not know how sharp those small ears might be. As good as a rabbit's, a pheasant's? In the end you resolve not to ask anything you did wish to be carried back to the man in the well. You had questions about those you were hunting, questions about the land from which they had sprung, but first....

Getting Jean back on his horse had been a struggle, the beast was not used to carrying dead weight about and he is very bit as willful as his master when it comes to attempts to lead him down the hill. Somehow you manage to get down the other side of it and by the time you reach the bottom the brisk night air had even revived Jean enough to speak and one hopes to listen.

"I've heard it said that God protects fools and children. Is that how you wish to live your life, Jean, relying on God to keep you safe rather than your own good sense?" Your shoulders are still tense, expecting some blow from the blue and from the looks of them Nico and Henri are not doing much better, though it is anyone's guess what Tam is thinking.

"I don't know what came over me, my lord. It was as if my limbs were moving on their own, caught in the web o' some spell..."

You glance at Inge, the question clear in your manner. Was he enchanted, did the spirit entrap you all?

The girl shrugs helplessly, looking a little angry at herself you think. "Wasn't looking when he rode off, but if he was the water watcher took it off quick."

"Even if that is so a strong mind can cast off any enchantment," you reply to Jean, hoping and praying by all the Saints and Angels that it is true.

"Yes milord," he gives the expected answer, though you could not say how much he believes you. Perhaps if fate is kind you shall not have to test his will thus again, but you doubt any of you shall be so lucky.

Not long after you find a secluded hollow for Nico to take Jean into", charging the younger man to guard his wounded comrade but sooner hide from peril he must than fight if he should meet it.

***​

As bay leaf scented shadows grow long and thick the conversation turns to the Inaurna Empire. Of them Inge has many tales, from their great galleons with horned prows which sail up and down the coast of what must be Africa collecting tribute from all the cities of the green lands and even from the nomads of the desert who followed the herds. Supposedly their armies were rich in bronze and their merchants rich in gold, but Inge's tales are filled with the exploits of Anwa captains managing to raid imperial ships and cities, and by clever gambit trick imperial officials. You get the sense that much of that is exaggeration if not outright legend. In a sense what you are doing is a bit like asking a fisher's girl in Caen about the workings of the Holy Roman Empire and its court.

Still you can tease out a few answers from the girl's tales, for one the Emperor in Oromo holds in his hand far more power than the kings of the Anwari, ruling as he doe by decree through the hand of what you can only call 'nobles of the quill', officials named not by deeds in battle or by bonds of blood and oath but by some kind of... test or examination. Inge is not really clear on the details. It reminds you a bit of the tales you have heard of the court in Constantinople, though given that you had heard those as rumor floating around the staging camps in Cyprus you might be grasping at straws here.

When she speaks of the magic of the southerners though Inge's voice takes on a somewhat firmer manner for these are things her master had taught her before his death. The Inaurna Emperor, whom they call the Son of Heaven, Lord of the Four Corners and Master of all upon the Earth, as well as many other high and proud names, is also the high priest of Elnu, god of the heavens and of fate. "They say their emperor is the son of the sons of Elnu, his line given lordship over the earth. They say he sees all in his realm and many leagues beyond it, what is, what was and what will."

"That is a rather bold statement," you note drily. You had seen enough strange things since coming to this land that you would not be overly amazed to witness someone who could see things far off or some things that are to be, but the folk here are still mortal men under Heaven. You do not think any of them would know all that.

"Ilfa said the same," the girl replies and for once the mention of her master does not bring a sad look in her eye but a giggle on her lips. "Oracle priests see far, but the sky does not know what moves in the depths of the sea."

"Not the woods either," Irieje pipes up boldly. "No mortal man can know our hearts or guess our minds no matter how mighty they pray to the Great Ones..."

Great ones... wait, wasn't that what Inge had called dragons this morning? Elnu certainly did not seem to be a dragon from what little Zaia and then Inge had explained about him. "Why do you say that?" you ask the strange guide cautiously.

The caution is rather wasted. The little sprite seems to enjoy the sound of her own voice far too much to be quiet now that you have given her your attention. The real struggle is keeping her on any sort of track. "Sorcerer poets dream in verse, verse from dreams unquiet rise. Who sleeps evermore neath stone, who dreams of eternity bound in coils of stone?"

"What sort of powers does this sorcerer have?" you try to reel her in as best you can, shaking off an uneasy shiver at the words.

"Power of song and power of slumber, do not heed his voice, for it can sent to slumber even those who sleep only with the land..." she cuts herself off, head twitching to look ahead along the path you had taken. "We are close... time to show your work man of iron."

You do not see any wisp of smoke against the stars ahead, no glow of flames. "How far?" you ask pulling on silver's reigns.

"Just over the gully here, a dark camp, they did not wish to be seen, but we saw them, we knew them..." the tiny laugh echoes strangely among the stones, seeming to grow louder for a moment rather than softer.

How do you approach the camp of the Imperials?

[] Afoot, as stealthy as you can

[] Ride swift and true, try to take it by storm

[] Write in

OOC: You rolled really poorly when talking to the guide so you got less useful information than you might have, but on the plus side Inge did as well as she could on the untrained knowledge check.