Itinerant: A Pilgrim Quest

Okay, some jokes aside. It is not my intent to hammer you into ground with predation because you chose to play a woman. This would not be interesting, and (perhaps even more importantly) would also probably constitute an error of perspective from my side.

Small digression: at least as far as middle ages go, women fall into the same sort of source-less abyss that the paupers, slaves and illiterate occupy. They were not a common subject of written sources that we have managed to recover from that time, and they were not a common source of them, either. Furthermore, most of what we can gleam from their status comes from sources which were foundational for a culture that was based on a deep mistrust towards them, if not outright misogyny. However, it would be erroneous to assume that the picture painted by them is actually well-representative of the oddities of life of that time; it is more often rather a representation of an idealized version of the world which the authors of laws and historical accounts try to impose on the reality of their life with their quills. Therefore, while it should come as no surprise that picking a female protagonist is a form of a Hard Mode Quest, your position is not set in stone nor determined from get-go.
 
The Golden Legend of Saint of Odo of Grace
So, Saint Odo of Grace won! The update will appear later today. Before then, have something else. This is technically styled after works from a somewhat later time than the Quest should mimic, but I could not help myself.


The Golden Legend of Saint Odo of Grace
Odo comes from the the word odun that is how the word praise looks in the language of the Liefs, and so his life was one of raising his voice to up high to venerate the Saints with utmost devotion. His father was Adon and mother was Ethla, and he was born in the city of Grace. From his earliest years, he was well devout and oftentimes would stay in a temple until late and night, and only leave when his mother came to plead for him to return home; he complied but he always knew that his real home is in the house of the Saints. His father wished him to become a warrior, at which Odo wept many tears, for he wanted to offer his life to holy works instead of war, but he was a good son and would not disobey his son.

The Saints, however, who always aid those that would be close to their hearts, heard of his plight and sent down a servant of theirs, by the name of Sebastian, who was a very holy man. He arrived in the city of Grace to become the bishop, and during a prayer that he presided over, he heard a voice sweet and filled with sadness, and the lamentation shook his heart. He ordered the one who prayed to be brought before him, and so was young Odo put before the bishop and asked: "Why is your prayer so sweet, and yet so sad?" and he answered: "For it is my desire to lead a life of a pious man, but my father will have me become a warrior and be married to a woman". And so Sebastian the bishop asked for the father of Odo to be brought before him and asked him: "Do you not see that your son's heart belongs to the Saints, not to the things of the earth? Let him be released from your rule, so that he may be granted a tonsure by me" and the father of Odo, stricken by the piety of Sebastian the Bishop soon complied, and Odo was accepted into the bishop's service, and performed admirably in all tasks set before him.

All the time, he also fasted and performed mortifications of flesh, until his face, which was very beauteous, grew pale and desiccated, but even then, he would not allow himself rest and comfort and slept on bare stones of the floor and ate only rotten bread and stale water. And soon his body was covered by a terrible stench, and even other men who served Sebastian the bishop asked for Odo to be thrown from his mansion, for he looked worse than a slave and a beggar, and flies surrounded him. But he would not allow that, until Odo himself asked to leave, for even to sleep under a roof seemed too much of a luxury to him, and he would rather go to live in a cavern with wild beasts around him. And so he did, and became an eremite outside the walls of the city, and would not see a man for ten years.

After that time, however, he heard a voice telling him to return to the city of Grace, which now was deprived of both of its holy men (for Sebastian the bishop passed away of old age) and returned to idolatry. And he entered the city's main square, covered in mud and filth, and with a bread that reached from his chin to the ground, and saw that the people of the city were corrupt to the core, and piety and good religion had been all but exiled from the city's walls, and all praised their idols and performed great depravities.
And people of the city gathered around him, for they thought him a quaint sign, in the manner of a jester or a barbarian, and to them, he spoke against their sins, and his voice was like thunder or a bell of bronze, and all that heard him were cowed.

But then came the soldiers of the city's lord, who was first in all manner of blasphemy, and said: "If he is allowed to preach for longer, he will surely turn the people of the city from their ways!" and they grabbed him from the square and threw him into prison, without bread or water, so that he would waste away. But miracle of miracles, when each day they would come to see if he had already wasted away, they would find him in health even better than the day before, and after a month, he looked as hale and young as he had been when he was a lad and around him was the fragrance of flowers and incense. For he had beheld the name of God in the times of his hermitage, and so became one of the Saints.

And that he could not be tormented with hunger, it angered the lord of the city, who ordered him drawn to the main square and hacked to death with axes, and with prayer on his lips, he departed from the word of the living to the world of true life, to watch the name of God in full forevermore. And the hands of those who tortured him were all instantly touched by rot, and on the lord of the city such terrible retribution was invested that it is sufficient to say that upon his demise, his body was thrown into a ditch for dogs to gnaw on, for no one would allow it to be buried in their land.

A certain man was ambushed on the road by terrible brigands, who robbed him of all of his possessions and left him bleeding. And he was found by another man, who was crooked, and who saved him to sell him as a slave, and put him in irons and mistreated him severely. But they passed by a shrine in which a relic of Saint Odo was held, and the man prayed for his deliverance, and suddenly his irons rusted away in an instant, and wounds were mended as well. He fled from his captor and hid in the church, and when the crooked man came after him and demanded from the monks to release him back to him, he suddenly found that he cannot move his legs and was forced to kneel by a divine force, and would not stand up until he gave all of his possessions to the man he wanted to enslaved. And thus was faith rewarded and injustice punished.
 
Last edited:
1.0 Alone
And so, we are officially off the chargen and into the quest proper! Again, the post may be a bit rough around the edges. Normal service will resume tomorrow.


1.0: Alone

In the shrine, there was a painting of Said Odo, rendered on a plank of wood. In one hand he held an axe, the instrument of his martyrdom, and in the other, a stalk of rye, which is known to grow even on the most barren soil. Before it, you knelt and offered him your prayers, speaking his name a thousand times, until the sky above turned black and then grey. In the end, you left feeling weary and with a chill in your bones. Yet, for all the failings of the body, your soul felt reinvigorated and refreshed, and you were filled with a sense trust that no matter where the journey ahead will take you, you will never be bereft of guidance and protection.

***
You have acquired the Blessing of Saint Odo of Grace! Aside from filling you with determination, it is also something you believe can help you in the times of desperation, where all your actions seem a lost cause! But be careful not to invoke it too often, for it is a mark of the Saints that they value those who give, instead of asking.
***
On the morning of the next day, you left, alone, with a staff in your hand and a sack on your back.

At first, it was planned that you would travel to the city of Grace along with Ethal, but as the spring blossomed, the ailment of Reda only grew more severe, and so the priest decided to stay, to provide companionship to him and, should the Saints will it so, see to it that he would pass from this world in a proper manner, all the better to secure the true life awaiting him. And so Ethal – who himself did not know what road leads to the city of Step – bade you to seek the bishop of Grace, whose name was Gresius, and ask him for guidance, as the men of faith are obliged to grant pilgrims all assistance necessary.

You made your farewells. To your father, who was so deep lost in a fever that it seemed that he did not recognize your departure, to grieving old Marga who saw it as certain that she would never see you again in the flesh, to old Redo, who blessed you as well and made you promise that you would not perish among the wilds of the world and to the grave of your brother, and to all the others who still resided in the house of Reda, for you yourself, all truth be told, felt daunted by the uncounted miles to go, and all the terrors of the world.

In the sack you prepared for yourself, not much could fit beyond the book, a bit of bread and cheese, and a wineskin. You put on yourself a long dress, and a fur cloak over it, held by a silver brooch (which was called fibula in the language of White Wall). To your belt, you strapped a knife in a scabbard trimmed with silver, and set with a pair of mountain crystals, and also flint and iron. Thus outfitted, and cursing the weight of the book on your back, you walked beyond the tall fence that surrounded your home, and took the narrow trail leading you through snow-patched fields towards the border of the woods ahead. Old Marga walked you off, still wailing, up until the edge of the forest, where she turned back, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself alone in the world.

You did not dwell much on that feeling, though, because you had to make a decision. The city of Grace was a few days away, and it did not seem that much of a good idea to sleep the cold nights of early spring away under an open sky. There were several ways to prevent that. Easiest seemed to you to rest in the home of Maro, who was beholden to your father and should offer you hospitality. Still, he lived some way off the road to Grace, and it would mean making your journey longer. You also remembered that there was said to be house built near the point where the woodland trail crossed with the paved road, sometimes used by traders and travelling priests. Finally, you also had some recollections of Davo the pig-herd speaking of a secret forest trails that the woodsmen used when they tried to make their way to the city of Grace, and of a camp that they had set along it. You did not know much beyond that, but it seemed easily the quickest way to the city, if you were to find them.

In the end, you decided to…

[ ]Make your way to the home of Maro, the slowest and safest of solutions.

[ ]Make your way to the crossroads and rest at the hut there, which also seemed safe and more expedient.

[ ]Seek the secret woodland path, easily the fastest route – if you do not mind the risk of getting lost.
 
Last edited:
[X]Seek the secret woodland path, easily the fastest route – if you do not mind the risk of getting lost.

believe in rngesus

 
Last edited:
[] Saint Atharius the Martyr.

Lol, this happens when you only focus on the threadmarks.

[X]Make your way to the crossroads and rest at the hut there, which also seemed safe and more expedient.
 
Last edited:
[X]Make your way to the crossroads and rest at the hut there, which also seemed safe and more expedient.
Although we are not especially pressured, Father is sick and infirm, and those in that condition do not linger there long...
 
[X]Make your way to the crossroads and rest at the hut there, which also seemed safe and more expedient.
 
[X]Seek the secret woodland path, easily the fastest route – if you do not mind the risk of getting lost.

No time to waste! Plus, there is a possibility of meeting a woodsman! Definitely no bandits on secret wood paths, no sir.
 
Last edited:
[X]Make your way to the crossroads and rest at the hut there, which also seemed safe and more expedient.

I did not expect the book to be that big. It's so encumbersome, I regret bringing it.
 
[X]Make your way to the crossroads and rest at the hut there, which also seemed safe and more expedient.
 
[X]Seek the secret woodland path, easily the fastest route – if you do not mind the risk of getting lost.

The hut seems the least safe to me, it's a known stopping point for travelers, and so its a favored haunt of brigands and lowlifes. Either speed through the secret path with the guidance from the book of wisdom, or rest at a friend's place. Not take an unarmed woman into brigand bait
 
[X]Seek the secret woodland path, easily the fastest route – if you do not mind the risk of getting lost.
 
[X]Seek the secret woodland path, easily the fastest route – if you do not mind the risk of getting lost.
 
Last edited:
Looks like a tie again. In any case, voting closes in about five hours, and I will be updating then, if my cunning plan to catch internet on a train works.
 
I added a rudimentary character sheet to the beginning of the tread! The itinerary of your journey will also be recorded there.
 
[x]Seek the secret woodland path, easily the fastest route – if you do not mind the risk of getting lost.
 
1.1 Forest
The secret woodland path won, somewhat to my surprise. Well then!


1.1 Forest

With the image of your ailing father haunting you, you chose haste over caution, and decided to seek the woodland trails that the pig-herd spoke of, to reach the city of Grace expediently. This desire had to be ascribed to the eagerness of your spirit; now that you had departed from the land of your birth and gave yourself to the road, you had little want for dalliance and even less care for safety. And so having put your life in the hands of the Saints, you thought yourself to be guided by them, for you chanced upon what looked like the route the pig-herd mentioned near the fields that belonged to Arny. With no hesitation, you took it, and entered the deep, dark forest, which was in that time of the year still bare of leaves and mostly lifeless.

You followed the faint trail for the better part of the day, making good progress, even though at times it felt as if you were losing the sight of it; snow still laid between the trees, not yet swept away by the spring, and it obscured much. And sometimes, your heart raced, for you saw in it impressed the tracks of many beasts, wolves and boars and perhaps other creatures that by the will of the Saints inhabit the depths of the forests, and emerge from it to punish the sins of men. And there would be no shame in admitting that you were not entirely free of fear yourself – for the woods seemed to grow ever thicker as you marched on, and soon the branches above your head were entwined together, so that you felt almost like walking through vaulted halls, and the silence that reigned around had hardly a calming effect, merely reminding you of the fact your solitude.

Yet, all seemed to go well, until well after mid-day, when the sun was hanging low on the vault of the sky, and shadows around you lengthened and darkened you noticed that you had passed by a particularly gnarled fallen trunk of a tree for the third time, and were walking in circles for quite some time. And you felt your heart stop at the realization that you had unknowingly lost the trail some time ago and were now well and truly lost. Around you the woods spread equally in all directions; all mighty trees and deep ridges and running creeks and dry brushes and beds of pale-green moss and lichen peeking from under melting snow. And none of it seemed any familiar, and even if you wanted to return home now, you would not know which way to go.

Once, when you were a child, you asked your brother Rida – who was next to none (but perhaps for Saint Corvo) in his wits, and knew the forests as if he had been born in them, and from hunts, he always returned carrying a rich bounty – how far do the woods go. And he pondered for a while, for it was not an easy question, and gave you the answer that follows: "If a man was to walk through them in a straight line for ten years, he would still not see the end of them". He then offered to take you into along with him into them, but you declined; it was at that time that you were receiving lessons from Ethal, and did not want to miss them.

And now, in that vast, trackless realm, you were lost, truly and entirely, and the warmth of the day seemed fleeting and the shadows of the evening seemed growing and somewhere in the distance, but not far, the howls of beasts rang loud and savage, for a woman had entered their kingdom, and they were hardly gracious hosts.

There was little time left before the coming of the night, and then you were certain that the beasts would cease howling, but rather bare their tooth and nail. A thought occurred to you to attempt to retrace your steps and perhaps return to whence you came; it would be difficult and would cost you a lot of time, but maybe, just maybe, would allow you to find your way back. Otherwise, you could try to seek a den or a cave and there try to set a fire, and survive the night in such a way. Or you could try to cry for help; perhaps the woodworkers that Davo spoke of were nearby and would come to your assistance. And if all else failed, you could always try to travel all night, as long as there was strength remaining in your muscles, hoping to escape the woods and maybe find the paved road that way.

In the end, you chose to…

[ ] Retrace your steps.

[ ] Seek shelter.

[ ] Cry for help.

[ ] March on, blind to the danger.
 
Last edited:
[X] Cry for help.
-[X] If that fails, Seek Shelter.
--[X] Consult the Book for Guidance.

It's night time so light's scarce. Hopefully, we find the relevant pages quickly, but it's a giant book so who knows.
 
[X] Seek shelter.

I imagine we'll be consulting the book once we find it, though it's a question of whether we'll have enough light to read it. Still, there might be something in it to help us navigate the woods, or at least walk in a consistent direction.

If there is a map in there somewhere to help us choose in which direction we want to go, all the better.
 
Back
Top