Stonetop Campaign Log

Posted in Tabletop on Adventure, Campaign
Stonetop Campaign Log

An ongoing writeup of our Stonetop TTRPG Campaign. This page is player-friendly and doesn’t contain and spoilers. It’s a great example of what stories can come from a Stonetop Campaign.

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If you want a peek behind the GM curtain, you can read my notes here.

Dramatis Personae

Taliesyn (he/him), The Seeker

Status: About to Embark (deciding which book(s) to bring with him)

Instinct: Curiosity. Appearance: inkstained fingers

Grew up in Stonetop. Desperate to solve its mysteries (Stone Glyphs, Forest Folk, Ruined Tower, Old Wall, etc). Has three mysterious arcana, and is always looking for more. Also wants books, especially about the Markers.

Latest Theory: The Stone is a tool/battery/thing for a massive underground complex. He just has to dig deep enough...

Little Owl (he/him), The Blessed

Status: About to Embark (secretly tagging along)

Instinct: Preservation. Appearance: shaggy kid

Sent to Stonetop to solve the mysteries and guide the lost. Absolutely does not want to be here...but is determined to impress the order of Danu. Buys pottery from Rachel that he doesn't need (soft on her). Loves to take shrooms with Zavia.

Latest Mentor: Stridelong, but Stridelong hasn't really figured that out yet.

Madoc (she/her), The Would-Be Hero

Status: About to Embark (after being cajoled into it)

Instinct: Optimism. Appearance: big smile

Grew up in Stonetop. Parents are stoneworkers. Unfulfilled, feels called to something greater...but what? Jeb is a supportive lover. Best friends with Rachel.

Latest Drink: Enjoyed an anniversary blend of Jeb's whiskey before heading out.

Zavia (she/they), The Lightbringer

Status: About to Embark (almost out of shrooms)

Instinct: Praise. Appearance: older, wiser, and often wandering afield

Came into Stonetop a while ago and keeps coming back. A wise counselor to any who endure her ramblings. Lover of Sorsha (it's not complicated). Has been seeking the Water of Eternal Flame since she first saw it.

Latest Gossip: Zavia and Ethel are trying to set up Little Owl and Rachel, with limited success. Maybe Railan is a better match??

Railan (he/him), The Marshall

Status: About to Embark (it's like herding cats)

Instinct: Honor. Appearance: the scars are almost handsome

His Grandfather led the first militia, and his father was the first Marshall. He is determined to leave his own legacy. His biggest obstacles are his contentions first officer (Aaron), his mischeivious rival (Betrys), and his well-meaning mother (Ethel).

Latest Recruit: An attempt to bring Stridelong into his militia crew.

Stridelong (he/him), The Ranger

Status: About to Embark (may wander off at any moment)

Instinct: Stewardship. Appearance: almost dirty, unkempt, but a quiet wisdom

Came from the frozen mountains and found peace among the warm forest. His heart is also thawing out as he gets to know the people of Stonetop. Little Owl and Railan both try to spend time with him, and he can't quite understand why.

Latest Awkward Interaction: Accidentally waking up Railan's mother in the middle of the night (are they...no. Surely not!).

Stonetop NPCs
  • Jeb The Publican (he/him). Madoc’s lover. Jag’s older brother. Won’t tell anyone the secret to his whiskey (not even Madoc!).
  • Jag The Tanner (he/him). Stridelong’s closest friend (whatever that means). Sees Madoc as an older sister. Never wanted to be Tanner, jealous of Jeb.
  • Sorsha The Smith (they/them). Zavia’s lover. Has two twin kids that will hopefully take over the smithy when she retires soon.
  • Garrett The Potter (he/they). A master of his craft, his work is renowned. His daughter Rachel does not have the gift, and he is getting old…
  • Kiera The Midwife (she/her). Lost her husband during a mission that Railan led. She has forgiven him, even if Railan hasn’t forgiven himself. Often seeks advice from Zavia and Betrys.
  • Mady The Stoneworker (she/her). Madoc’s mother. Kind, clever, loyal, and never doubted Madoc’s potential.
  • Docer The Other Stoneworker (he/him). Madoc’s father. Hardworking, strong, and just wants Madoc to be happy, potential or no.
  • Daub The Houndmaster (they/them). Want to know how Stridelong can hide from his dogs.
  • Betrys The Priestess of Tor (she/her). Sees Zavia as a threat to her influence. Wants to raise her own militia (Railan is too defensive). This village should be a light on a hill, spreading truth; not just hiding in its walls.
  • Aaron The Militia Officer (he/him). Railan isn’t as good as his father was, but he could be if he just took some advice!
  • Ethel (she/her). Railan’s mother (and roomate). She loves to gossip and play matchmaker (when anyone will let her). Also wants to be a mentor and guide to Madoc.
  • Bronwin (he/him). Seven year old child. Wants a wooden sword so he can FINALLY join the militia!
  • Emmet (they/them). Cares for Taliesyn, but is concerned about his research. Is part of the militia.
  • Gretchen (she/her). One of Railan's crew. Lost her sister to the Hillfolk years ago, and still seeks justice/vengence.
  • Miriam (she/her). Gretchen's younger sister. Very curious about the outside world. Might have a crush on Little Owl?
  • Mistic (she/her). A massive beast that has bonded with Madoc.
Outsider NPCs
  • Kiln (they/them). Leader of Lower Green Moon (she/her). Curious about farming and living off the land. Her Second does not agree. Friendly with Zavia.
  • Odin Thriceborn (he/him). One of the stronger bosses of Gordin's Delve. Wants to mine the hills of the Hillfolk. Stonetop owes him some favors...
  • Darya (she/her). Thriceborn's head organizer and strategist. She keeps things running so he can focus on eating and killing.
  • Osho (he/him). Previous guard, now turned refugee. He and his son will hopefully find safety away from Gordin's Delve.

Session 1

Although this first session was mostly establishing characters and relationships, we still did explore the first adventure hook.

Today is a big day. Not only have the snows finally melted, but the annual Caravan is coming to town! The wagons are always bursting with treasures from all around the region: masterwork weapons and tools, fine cloth, strange furs, tasty foods, magical artifacts, colorful toys, and most importantly: news. The whole town is abuzz with expectation.

  • Taliesyn wants to purchase some rare books or scrolls. Maybe a little arcana if he can afford it.
  • Little Owl is hoping to some new seeds to expand his garden.
  • Madoc wants a map and some news of the outside world.
  • Zavia is almost out of shrooms…and she might travel with the caravan for a while.
  • Railan needs a shield for one of his men, and maybe a steel spear.
  • Longstride doesn’t really want anything, but maybe he can sell his furs to help the village.

After a day or two, the excitment begins to sour. Bronwin really really wants a sword, and he makes it everyone’s problem. After another a week tensions are high. Kiera was counting on some medicinal herbs for one of her patients. The whole town grumbles. Still no caravan.

When Stridelong can’t sleep he wanders the woods (if he could he’d wander them in his sleep too). Thus he was the first to notice the distant fire on the dark horizon. He ran back to town, shook his head at the sleeping sentries, and went straight to Railan’s house. After sharing the news, Railan grabbed Stridelong and took him to help rally the town. Others were awakened, plans were made, and in the morning a massive town meeting was held.

“The signal fire of the Hillfolk was lit last night.” says Railan to the crown. “You can still see the smoke! I am asking for volunteers to travel with me and meet with them.”

“So you leave the village defenseless!” accuses Betrys. Railan rolls his eyes.

“I’m leaving Aaron and the rest of the militia here to watch the town. I’m hoping for 4-5 other people who will travel with me and Stridelong to represent Stonetop.” Railan looks expectantly out on the crowd. Stridelong slowly registers that what Railan said, and decides he will tag along for now.

“You should go.” whispers Jag as he nudges Madoc in the ribs. “Get out of here and see beyond the Old Wall.” She looks to Jeb who gives a comforting smile and nods. She raises her hand.

Zavia also raises her hand, feeling the itch to wander once again. Better to wander with a group when she can. She’ll have to tell Taliesyn as well, since he’s probably lost in some dusty tome. That boy will never learn anything that isn’t written down (which is most things, honestly). It will do him good to get out.

Little Owl watches, but doesn’t volunteer. Someone will just tell him to stay here, so why announce it? Better to sneak along until it’s too later to turn back. Maybe he’ll tell Stridelong, just to start up a conversation. First time for everything.

The group prepares to embark on short and no doubt uneventful journey to the Titan’s Bones.

Session 2

First each player played through their letters.

  • Taliesyn was up late trying to unlock the secrets of a Large Wooden Jar (arcana). His friend, Emmet, came into the room unexpectedly and was deeply concerned by what they saw. Taliesyn left without addressing it; hopefully it just kind of resolves itself?
  • After Madoc agreed to go on the journey to Titan Bones, Ethel approached her with excitement. “I just know you will finally fulfill the prophecies and reach your true potential!” she exclaimed, as Madoc smiled politely, not betraying her annoyance. After more polite nods, Ethel finally left, but Madoc knows she’ll be back with more “guidance”.
  • Little Owl desperately wants to go to Titan Bones, but knows he’ll be rejected as “too young” or “too inexperienced”. Instead he decides to follow behind secretly and join them when it’s too late to turn back. Unfortunately he stumbles across young Bronwin who has the same plan. Little Owl barely manages to convince Bronwin to stay after a long discussion. So long, in fact, that Little Owl falls behind and has to leave behind his pack and equipment to catch up with the group!
  • Zavia spends a lovely evening with Sorsha. As Zavia leaves to pack, she sees that the forge is still lit. Sorsha forbid Zavia from touching the forge, so Zavia just sits and enjoys the warm glow of the embers. Helior grants her a vision: A dark glowing ember beneath the Ruined Tower. Zavia snaps out of the vision and rushes off to pack and leave with the group, the forge still alight.
  • Railan is approached by one of his best militia: Gretchen. Gretchen lost her sister to the Hillfolk a few years back, and insists on going with Railan to meet them. Both to protect her friends and to hopefully get more information about her sister’s demise. Railan allows her to come along, but some in the village see this as poor leadership from a man easily swayed.
  • Stridelong’s letter will be addressed mid-journey.

The group departs late the next morning. Taliesyn, Madoc, Little Owl, Stridelong, Zavia, Railan, and Gretchen leave amidst a flurry of “goodbye”s and “good luck”s. The town’s two draft horses, Glitter and Hoof, take up the rear, pulling a wagon with a light load. The Maker’s Roads offer some protection, as well as a direct path to Titan Bones.

After a few hours of travel, they approach The Crossroads. A common place to travelers to rest, worship, and trade (and be haunted by the ghosts of the Makers, if you listen to the old folks). There is a dark-cloaked person sitting cross legged on a red mat in front of the shrine to Aratis (The God of Order). A thin curl of smoke drifts up from the shrine, growing thicker as the group approaches.

Zavia hangs back, convinced they are being followed. She quickly spots Little Owl among the Gwead (thick flatland grasses). Little Owl is hardly embarrased, and Zavia can’t help but smile that her young friend has joined this impromptu adventure. She makes a mental note to keep an eye on him.

The rest of the group has been observing the strange worshipper in front of the smoking shrine. The smoke bursts into a small fire, and the shrine begind to char and burn. Zavia counsels that this could be a form of worship, and there’s little danger of the flame spreading among the Gwead. Little Owl adds that none of them worship Aratis, one of the least popular gods in Stonetop. The group moves on, as the flames grow higher and the strange worshipper starts to laugh maniacally. It’s probably fine.

As darkness falls, the group approaches the base of Titan Bones. They camp for the evening. Railan and Gretchen set a watch, since Gretchen hasn’t taken a break all day and Railan is worries about her. Eventually she does relent to sleep, and Railan realizes he hasn’t seen Stridelong in a while.

Railan walks the perimeter, alert for any sound. There’s a rustling noise, a loud grunt, and the sound of flesh hitting stone. He runs to the source, and see Stridelong has fallen into a steep stone crater. Ringed by Gwead, anyone might have fallen in, but Railans suspects the rolling Beznpol is the culprit (a horse-sized Pangolin/Badger creature famous for curling into a highly mobile ball and running down prey).

Stridelong has a pained look on his face, both from embarrassment and from a sprained ankle. Railan jumps down into the crater, and quickly tosses one of his rations on the other side of the crater. The Beznpol rolls after it, and Railan has enough time to help Stridelong out of danger. The two hobble back to camp, and Stridelong says he’ll remain here and keep watch to make sure no one tries to flank them up the hill. He had expected to get more grief about his mistake, but the others just accept the situation and wish him well.

He and Little Owl remind the group of three things to remember when dealing with the Hillfolk:

  • Hillfolk consider mining and farming heretical. The ground and stone are sacred.
  • Do not walk backwards in front of them. It’s rude.
  • They show friendship by pressing foreheads together. They do this with their horses as well.
  • They will kill your sister and never admit it.

That last one was from Gretchen, and Railan gently puts a hand on her shoulder. “We will ask about your sister. Politely. Please be patient.” Gretchen nods, unconvincingly.

With Stridelong staying behind to rest, the group heads up the hill to the Titan Bones bonfire. A tall Hillfolk woman awaits them, flanked by a shorter angry-looking man.

“I am Kiln, leader of the Lower Green Moon band. We welcome conversation with Thundertop.” Kiln explains how their band was hunting a thunderdrake when they came across the remains of a Merchant caravan. The traders had been struck by lightning, and much of their good were charred and broken. “We scavanged what we could, gave the bodies a sky burial, and lit the bonfire to negotiate a burial price.”

The Stonetop citizens look at one another for a few moments, and Madoc takes the opportunity to step forward.

“We greet you. This caravan was indeed heading for Stonetop with supplies we desperately needed. What is a a fair burial price?”

Kiln looks confused. “That is for the family to determine. We decided you are the closest thing to family these merchants have around here. The price should reflect the appreciation and generosity of the family.”

The PCs step away to discuss amongst themselves. But Zavia takes a moment to look into Kiln’s eyes, and something passes between them: a strange understanding.

“This is a chance to show our generosity” says Madoc. “We could gain allies if we give them a big payout.”

“But we need those supplies,” argues Little Owl. “It’s all our stuff anyway. And who knows if they kept more than they said?”

“I need to examine the supplies, make an inventory, and see if there are any arcana.” insists Taliesyn.

Railan steps in front of Gretchen’s fierce glare, quietly urging her to breathe. Madoc, Little Owl, and Taliesyn go to investigate the supplies while Zavia walks up to Kiln.

“May we speak privately, Kiln?” Zavia asks, motioning to a clearing. They walk over to talk quietly together while the shorter Hillfolk man stares at them. Little Owl notices them quickly touch their foreheads together, but no one else catches it.

The PCs come back together and share what they learned. Zavia’s revelation is the hardest to believe.

“They want to move into Stonetop?” asks Gretchen incredulously. Zavia shakes her head, explaining that Kiln wants to learn more about what life is like in Stonetop; specifically what it’s like to farm the land and live in one place. “She is sick of seeing her people starve and wander through the winters.” Railan idly says, “See Gretchen? They are no different than–” and starts as he sees Gretchen approach the shorter man.

“Careful”, warns Zavia, “That is Kiln’s second, who does not agree with Kiln. He sees us as enemies, and he is a spirit-talker.” Railan quickly walks up to the start of an argument between Gretchen and Kiln’s Second.

The Second is smugly crossing his arms and says he doesn’t anything about her sister. “Not all Hillfolk are the same, Thundertop”, he sneers.

“Oh, so you are the only ones who DON’T murder innocent people?” Gretchen snarls back. “I wonder if the caravan would agree with you. OH RIGHT, they’re dead!”

“I’ll admit murder looms in my mind right now, Thundertop. Go back to your holes in the ground.” Gretchen takes a step forward, but Railan finally arrives and steps in between them. They shout a few more threats before Railan can force Gretchen back down the path. Negotiations breakdown.

The PCs take what they think is fair:

  • Two large boxes marked for Gordin’s Delve
  • Herbs and Poultices for Kiera’s patients
  • Charred cedar sticks in a small box
  • A bleached book (Arcana)
  • A wooden spiky ring (Arcana)
  • Pouches of seeds, some new and strange
  • Gold bracelets and jewelry
  • Buttons, needles, and thread
  • A finely carved wooden toy sword

They leave the Hillfolk a very generous gift of:

  • 2 Supplies
  • A large jar of honey
  • A steel spearhead
  • Salt and spices

Attempts at further conversation die down. Kiln gathers her people. As she walks past Zavia she locks eyes, and nods slowly before turning down the mountain with her band. Railan notes that it isn’t the WORST Hillfolk meeting they’ve had…but it could have been a lot better. Gretchen does not speak for the entire return journey.

Next week we will play through the return to Stonetop, jump into Summer, and see how things have changed since then!

Session 3

The heroes of Stonetop return triumphant! The trip back was uneventful, only slightly haunted by the smoking husk that was once a shrine to Aratis. The supplies were a welcome gift to the people of Stonetop. While most were out planting the spring harvest, there was still a crowd of excited folk to help load the supplies into the barn. Each member of the group picks out some of the special items to deliver personally.

Railan took the herbs out to the fields, looking for Keira. He spotted her carrying a large pot of water and hurried to catch up.

“Kiera!” he called out, and she turned to look his way.

“Oh, so glad you made it back safely, Railan. I assume from your smile that things went well?”

“Yes!” he said triumphantly and held up the bag of herbs. “I know you were waiting on these herbs for–” She shoved the large pot into his hands and snagged the bag, rifling through it with a practiced eye.

She sighed with relief, “Yes, it’s all here. Thank you Railan.” She takes a few step towards the village and turns to look back at him. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for the village. And everything you did. We’re lucky to have you protecting us. Thank you.” And Railan can finally accept a little of the forgiveness in her tone. As she walks away, he feels lighter, despite carrying the heavy water pot.

Madoc made sure to stop by her parents place and reassure them that she made it home safe and sound. Her mother never doubted, but her father is relieved. She endures their familiar chiding and mentions she needs to help unload the rest of the supplies. As she heads to the cart she bumps into Taliesyn looking even more anxious than usual.

“You’re heading to the cart, Madoc? Can you grab that bleached book and drop it off at my house? I have something I need to take care of first.” And runs off without waiting for confirmation. Madoc shrugs and continues to the barn. After some time searching, she can’t find the book at all. Assuming someone else delivered it to Taliesyn, she grabs what she came for: buttons, needles, and thread for Jag.

Madoc fiddles with the buttons as she heads towards Jag’s house. She can hear him cursing and muttering to himself; probably stuck with another piece of leather that he couldn’t quite figure out.

“Delivery!!” Madoc cries as she barges inside. Jag jumps and drops the discolored piece of hide.

“Don’t DO that!” he responds instinctivly. And then runs up to give her a hug, grateful she made it back safely, and just as eager to say, “I told you it would be a good trip!” They chit-chat for a bit, and he starts to put the buttons and needles in a special box.

“Have you seen Jeb yet?” He asks, slyly. She shakes her head, and he says, “Let him stew for a bit. He never let on that he was worried, but I could tell. It’s good for him to worry a little.”

“Oh, but not you?” She teases as she steps back into the main square. She comes to find Jeb napping on a hammock near his still. Keeping quiet, she snuggles up next to him, and they both enjoy each other’s peace.

Little Owl is assaulted by an angry Bronwin. “You big jerk! You left me behind! And now you get first pick of all the good stuff!” He whines. Luckily Little Owl had tucked the wooden sword inside his waistband earlier.

“Oh, you mean first pick of something like this?” He says as he draws the sword and waves it around. Bronwin’s eyes grow large, and his face scrunches up in jealousy. Little Owl flourishes the sword a few more times until Bronwin’s anger turns to tears. He pitches a fit, crying and sputtering. Little Owl is flabbergasted, and quickly offers the sword to difuse the situation.

“I was just holding it for you, Bronwin. I’m sorry! Please, take it!” And shoves the hilt towards the boy. With a final sniffle Bronwin holds the sword, handling it with care and awe. He swallows a lump in his throat and triumphantly holds the little weapon high above his head. Soon Little Owl is backing away from the wild swings of the aspiring soldier.

“STOP!” cries a gruff voice from atop the Ringwall. Aaron climbs down, looking disapprovingly at Little Owl and Bronwin both. “If you’re going to swing that thing, you should at least have the right stance” he commands with a smirk. “Let me show you.” The three spend a few hours “training” until Bronwin is called home for dinner. “If you ever wanted to learn a little swordplay, let me know, Little Owl. One day you’ll be a grown owl who might have need of a sharp beak.” Little Owl walks away, considering.

Stridelong finds a thoughful Little Owl relaxing on the edge of town as the sun sets. “Come, Little Owl, let’s see if we can get these strange seeds to sprout.” Little Owl hardly has time to object before Stridelong starts speed-walking to the edge of town. Little Owl hasn’t seen Stridelong’s cabin before, but it’s surprisingly cozy. Warm animal skins, bits of stone and shell hanging from the ceiling, and a few plants in pots. Through the back, Stridelong begins to clear out space in his garden. “During the day, this corner gets lots of sun.”

“Uhmmm…” Little Owl starts nervously, “Actually these are mushroom spores. They need a dark, damp place to grow.” Stridelong gives him a blank stare, and Little Owl worries he said the wrong thing.

“I know just the place”, says Stridelong, and sets out again as Little Owl struggles to keep up. They arrive at a little cave on the edge of the river, just big enough for a person to crawl into. “Is this sufficient?” ask Stridelong. Soon they’ve built the perfect fungal garden. Over the next few weeks Little Owl will grow more accustomed to Stridelong’s awkwardness, and Stridelong will grow to rely on Little Owl’s intuitive understanding of nature.

Over the next few days the town is abuzz with debate about the two big boxes from (or for) Gordin’s Delve. Sorsha is determined to open the boxes and make use of whatever supplies they contain, and many in the town agree with her. “They don’t even know it’s missing! And we could make use of those tools.” Docer quietly agrees, as does Madoc. Railan is the main objector, insisting that they return the property to Gordin’s Delve unmolested. Even Betrys agrees, insisting that the boxes cannot be good for Stonetop.

There is much debate, but the most surprising voice is Mady’s objections. “Gordin’s Delve is dangerous. It traps you and wraps you. We don’t want to mess with them any more than we already have. Return the boxes and close this chapter.”

Eventually the town agrees to open both boxes and then decide what to do with the contents. The smaller box contains a miscellany of tools, supplies, some maker glass, and bits of ore; all things Sorsha could use to benefit the town. The large box contains several stamped gold bars and some sealed letters. Mady grows pale, and pleads that they close up the boxes and return them. After a few panicked breaths she explains that the letters and bars are stamped with the seal of Odo Thriceborn, one of the most dangerous bosses in Gordin’s Delve. “Ever since Mutra the Teeth was lost, Thriceborn has grown to fill the power vacuum. He killed his 3 oldest children when they didn’t measure up. Cut their throats himself.”

That sobers any excitement that Stonetoppers had about free supplies. Sorsh is over-ridden, and the town agrees to package up the boxes and return them during their summer trade trip.

At this point in the game we jumped ahead a few months to the start of Summer. We played through a montage of scenes:

  • Little Owl and Stridelong tending to their fungal garden. The harvest is large, yielding several strange and useful mushrooms!
  • Stridelong comes across a strange rivertrader named Carmichael. His boat was overturned and grounded, but Stridelong helped him back into the water. In return he promised to bring Stonetop some of his wares on the return journey. Stridelong is celebrated for representing the village so well and building a new connection. He is slowly accepting Stonetop’s warmth and friendship.
  • As the summer trade trip to Gordin’s Delve approaches, Mady forbids Madoc from going. “I know you want to help, and you want to be with Jeb and the others but…Gordin’s Delve is a bad place. You will not fulfill your potential there.” Madoc refuses, insisting that she is ready for the world, and needs to do this for herself and her village. “I just hope you live to regret it as much as I have” retorts Mady. Even Docer’s steady strength cannot calm the tension between his wife and his daughter.
  • Railan notices Gretchen missing training sessions and skipping shifts. He approaches her gently, insisting that she is free to do as she wishes. Gretchen is reluctant to explain herself, but eventually spits out, “I worry you value your own honor over the good of the village. Not just with the Gordin’s Delve boxes, but with everything. Especially the murderous Hillfolk. We won’t be safe unless we take action!” Railan lets her go, but keeps an eye on her. Betrys is also keeping an eye on Gretchen.
  • Railan is struggling to train a new recruit: Harry. Handsome and strong, Harry is surprisingly uncoordinated and slow-learning. Aaron recommends letting him go, but Railan pairs Harry with Emmet and hopes they can grow together.
  • Madoc finishes crafting a new barrel for Jeb’s distillary, much to Jeb (and the entire town’s) delight. He lets slip that they could both stay in Stonetop while the others make the trade trip. “It’s always a massive drain; let’s stay behind and prep the next batch of whiskey together.” Madoc insists she can’t stay, and Jeb swallows his own preferences to show his support. But he still feels let down.
  • Stridelong makes a regular game out of hiding from Daub’s prized hunting dogs. But this time their noses are too much for Stridelong. Daub glows with pride, and lets his ego show a little too much. In fact his dogs are up most nights barking and howling, drawing complaints from the older villagers.
  • Taliesyn works with Zavia to uncover the secrets of the spiky wooden ring. They also share a growing concern about whoever took the Bleached Book.

Next Session we will set out for Gordin’s Delve to trade and return the two boxes!

Session 4

First Zavia and Talisyn play through their letters:

Sorsha has been rather cold since Zavia left the forge burning overnight. And now Zavia is planning to leave again, this time for an entire week! Despite their tension, both women try to connect and enjoy some quiet moments with one another. It certainly doesn’t help that Taliesyn keeps interrupting with news of some Arcana or another. The two have just finished unlocking the secrets of the Spiky Wooden Ring! It only cost them:

  • Two weeks of sickness.
  • A favor to Miriam (Gretchen’s younger sister) for gathering the ingredients needed for the cure.
  • And wearing an ugly piece of jewelry where everyone can see it and wonder.

In fact there’s one ritual that he’s very eager to try: The Convocation of the Soil. He and Zavia have prepared as best as they can while still keeping it a secret from the rest of the villagers. Taliesyn looks to Zavia, and she nods, fingering her lantern nervously. Taliesyn opens a vein in his arm, spilling his lifeblood all over the fallow fields. A few moments later, he grimaces and breaks into a sweat. Something is wrong. The blood pools as if in an invisible bowl. A rotting hand emerges from the pool of blood, and soon a walking corpse pulls itself from the ground. Zavia is stunned, trying to decide if she should strike down the creature or help Taliesyn. Before anyone can act, the thing shambles quickly away, and Talisyn collapses to the ground.

Zavia bandages his wounds, and they both share a concerned look. “Perhaps…this shouldn’t be kept a secret any longer.” Talisyn mutters. Zavia pats his hand, comfortingly. “We’re Stonetop. We’ll figure it out.”

The next morning Taliesyn calls a group of folks into the granary: the PCs, Militia, and one or two other trustworthy folks. He explains the ritual (which worked, by the way! Gonna be a big harvest this year!) and also explains the “mistake”. He has barely finished his stuttering apology/explanation/justification before Stridelong bursts out the door and tries to track the thing down. If it walks, Stridelong can track it.

He quickly follows the bloody footprints to the edge of the Old Wall. Behond that, the ground is disturbed; he counts at least 4 sets of footprints all leading away from Stonetop. The entire walk back, Stridelong fails to think of an explanation that won’t upset Taliesyn. Oh well…

As the PCs are packing, there is some disagreement between Railan and Aaron.

“You can’t just leave whenever your honor demands it, Railan”, says Aaron. His voice is disapproving, but he looks more bored than anything else.

“This will be the last time for a while”, explains Railan, “once we drop off these boxes, and make sure there’s no trouble, I can come back to Stonetop for good. Besides you have things under control.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t.” Aaron replies. And if Railan didn’t know him better, he’d say Aaron was…whining. “I don’t want to lead, and I refuse to do so. I will help the men carry out your orders while you are away…but this is the last time. When you return we need to start thinking about your replacement. Or you need to promise me you won’t leave.”

That stops Railan in his tracks. Replacement? He’s the Marshall! Right? Full of doubt, Railan nods and gets back to packing.

Sorsha is dictating an exhaustive shopping list to an exhausted Zavia. “I can’t promise we’ll be able to trade for any of this stuff” Zavia interrupts, “but I promise I’ll try, Hearthfire.” Sorsha gives her a quick kiss and a longer look before stepping back. Zavia hopes that her absence will both cool her anger and make it easier for her to focus on training the twins. “Otherwise we’ll never get to leave Stonetop…not together anyway”, she thinks to herself. “At least this time I get to bring Priscilla” She nuzzles the old donkey’s mane and slips her some oats.

“Can I feed her?” asks a young voice. Zavia turns around to find Miriam standing nearby looking excited.

“Of course, Miriam. Priscilla likes it when you give her all the oats at once; she’ll chew them for hours.” Zavia notices the bulging pack on Miriam’s back. “While I’m grateful for the ingredients you brought me when I was sick, I don’t think we need anything else for this trip.”

“Oh, this is all for me. I’m coming with you.” She says with a smile. “After all…you said I could ask a favor any time. And I’m asking to come with you. Now.” Zavia hesitates, but then relents when she sees Little Owl trying to jam his bags into the back of the cart. Actually this might be fun…

“You and Little Owl can ride in the cart. Keep an eye on Priscilla for me.” Zavia says, plans already forming.

Madoc hugs her father goodbye, and helps carry her mother’s things to the cart. It’s already packed tight with Jeb’s whiskey; but there’s still room for some belongings. “Last chance to abandon this fruitless endevour, sweetie” says Mady.

Madoc smirks and says, “It’s okay Mom. I can go without you.” and hops into the wagon to sit next to Jeb. Mady mumbles something and climbs in after her.

Railan organizes Harri and Emmet, making sure they have all their equipment. The rest of the militia will stay behind. Stridelong steps up beside Railan, as if he wants to double check bags as well.

The 11 of them set out to muted cries of encouragement and farewell. Betrys, Gretchen, and Jag watch without a word.

The first day or so is uneventful. Muggy, but for a slight breeze to keep off the insects. When evening falls the wagons group up and everyone begins to unpack for camp. It isn’t until Railan is organizing first watch when he realizes that Stridelong is missing!

Madoc and Taliesyn are unconcerned. “He’s always wandering off. He’ll be back.” Zavia looks pointedly at Taliesyn.

“Considering the recent…shambling development maybe it’s best we find him sooner rather than later.” Taliesyn looks ill, but quickly agrees. When are they going to let that go?

The PCs set out to search for Stridelong, leaving the rest to guard the camp and keep watch. As the search goes on, Madoc drifts away from the group, wandering near a patch of trees. The others gather around Zavia’s lantern, letting her lead the way.

Madoc approaches a copse of trees, thinking Stridelong might have used them to scout the area. Suddenly the ground begins to rumble and shake. She grabs onto a tree and clings to it while the groundquake gets worse. Lying among the Gwead grass nearby she spots a furry…something lying in the dirt. It’s fur is clear white, and it’s large; larger than any wolf she’s ever seen.

She approaches it carefully, looking for any signs of life. When she runs her hands through the thick fur, the thing shudders and exhales. Soon it’s looking right at her; right into her. This creature was an apex: born and bred for the greatest hunt in the spiritual realm. But with this mortal blow it has been cast aside, abandoned. Never to run or track or feast again. Only a long sleep remains.

Madoc feels a burning within her soul. She gathers it up, along with all of her doubts, fears, and shame. This creature fought hard for its purpose with every breath while she lingered far from her destiny. The creature responds, eager for this trade of purpose for peace.

Madoc’s Bond with Mistic

I slowly took a step. The leaves under my feet crunched every so softly, but just enough for the foreign breathing to sound more desperate. Someone is in pain. I have to know who.

I started moving with a pace until and I saw her. I stopped in my tracks, staring up at a beast that was otherworldly.

Deep brown fur with silver blue eyes. Her fur sticking straight up with every heavy breath. Her eyes in pain and so far away. Her body translucent between my blinks. I try to steady myself to understand what I’m witnessing. A wolf? A guardian?

I follow her gaze and only see green leaves all around. I look back to see her more clearly and our eyes lock. I can’t look away, mesmerized by her look, feeling as if we can see each other in a place deeper than our souls.

I reach out toward the side of her face and she lifts her cheek to feel my pulse settle in around her left ear. When we gaze back at each other, our breathing starts to slow and connect as one. In. Out. In. Out.

As if I’m compelled, I lean my forehead towards her forehead, but she jerks back, groaning in pain. I look at her wound and realize she might not make it through the next hour. As our breath starts to sync back up, she lowers her head and lifts her eyes. Almost as if a bow turned into an invitation. I slowly lower my head and connect my left temple to her forehead, slowly rolling until we are nose to nose.

The whole world spins, but unlike the earthquake that left my body shaking, this locks my body down and I am somehow spinning in a stationary position with the trees circling around.

I close my eyes and she closes hers and I’m let in. I see the fight against the ugly beast. I feel the sting of the slaps and bites. My heart races and I feel my chest pulsing. Then we’re swiftly transported to Stonetop where I see myself sulking and roaming needlessly. My heart slows so much I feel like time is slowing…going dark… until we find ourselves in a bright foreign place. A dry land surrounded by blue water. I’m across the land from the wolf and we slowly walk towards one another. We greet each other, forehead to forehead. And immediately we’re back.

My breathing quickens and I hear a voice inside my head, but with the sound muffled far away, “Share your optimism. Give her your healing hope. And take with you the instinct that you need to join in the fight.” I keep listening and knead my head into her fur a little tighter. She noses me forward and wraps me under her paw. I let myself pass to slumber and let my whole body rest.

When awaken, I feel as if I can taste my own blood. My skin feels tighter and my hair feels fuller. To orient myself I try to stand and fall back into her body. She gently lifts me up.

Her eyes are different. Her eyes are warmer and more rounded. She looks smaller, yet her frame is still bigger than any wolf I’ve seen before. She jumps up, runs a circle around me, and plants her two paws at my knees. I growls with annoyance. Whoa! Where is that coming from? She sulks. And then slowly tries again to reconnect with me.

I’m surprise at her healing and her ability to more and run. I follow her, mostly out of pure adoration, but also because she is headed back to our campsite as if she is guiding me.

I run to catch up and she slows to my pace. We pause and she licks up my cheek and I giggle. I reach to touch her ear and we smile at one another. She seemed so familiar and warm. My own body felt new and pained, but determined and defiant. My soul was heavy, but her breathing calmed mine down.

It hit me: her healing was my burden to hold. And to hold I would forever.

“I shall call you Mistic. Will you be my Mistic, girl?” Another lick, and we began our walk forward.

Zavia, Taliesyn, and Railan also feel the earth shaking. But unlike Madoc they can see the source clearly in the moonlight: a terrible battle!

A large horned figure with a glass spear is dancing away from a massive worm-like creature. It’s oily fur leaves a smear of dark liquid along the ground as it thrashes and strikes. Several ghostly wolves surround the creature, striking in coordination with the tall horned hunter.

And caught in the middle is an astonished looking Stridelong. He can’t decide whether to draw closer or escape; so enraptured is he by the sight of a real Underbeast! If only it wasn’t quite so close…or angry.

Railan ushers the group to take cover behind a fallen tree and they try to come up with a plan. He wants to get Stridelong out of there quickly and quietly. He’s trying to strategize, but the others aren’t paying any attention. Taliesyn is furiously taking notes in his notebook (how can he even see in the darkness?) and muttering something about “It’s a Maker, the Pale Hunter. I knew it. I knew there had to be more that–”

Zavia, by contrast, is deeply disturbed. This Underbeast is wrong and dark, in every way that Helior is bright and true. She feels the righteous zeal ignite with her, and her hands are alight before she even realizes what she’s doing.

“Go back to the shadow!” she cries, thrusting her glowing arms towards the Underbeast. There’s a terrible squeal, a shudder in the earth, and the Underbeast has escaped underground. She lets out a glowing sigh of relief, only to gasp when the Pale Hunter is suddenly looking directly at her.

Determined not to show weakness she draws in another breath, turns her back, and begins to stalk away. She feels an icy pressure on her; like she is being stalked. Even during the return back to camp that pressure never lets up.

“You’ve uh…got a new tattoo, Zavia.” Taliesyn whispers, and describes the strange glowing mark on her back shoulder. Just another price of bringing light to darkness. Helior will be there when the Pale Hunter returns.

Stridelong and Taliesyn excitedly talk over one another; legends of the Makers, reports of Underbeasts, unfulfilled prophecies, and ancient travelers’ tales.

In fact the rest of the night is an excited blur of telling and re-telling what everyone experienced that night that no one gets any sleep at camp. Except for Mistic, who snores soundly.

Taliesyn’s Journal

Early Spring

Ever since we’ve come back from our meeting with the Hillfolk and Titan Bones, I’ve been on edge worrying about where that bleached book has gone. Some of the villagers know about arcana, and I want to convince them that they can be good for Stonetop. I especially want to convince Emmett after what happened the day before I left…

Zawyva and I went out into the fields to the northwest of Stonetop. I know Zawvya has capabilities as a healer, so I wanted to bring her along with me in case something bad happened. Unfortunately, something bad did happen. I was able to spill enough blood to invoke the ritual on the fields, but something escaped out of the ground. It was sickeningly decayed and rotting like an animated corpse. Zawya was so focused on healing me that the thing escaped before we could chase after it. Despite how slow it shambled. I had to tell the others: Railan, Stridelong, and Little Owl. But not Madoc. What if she told Rachel?

Mid Spring

Zawvya and I came about a ritual involving some kind of… blood candle? I’m still recovering from that day in the fields, so I haven’t had time to look into it yet. But we did make sure to erase all evidence of it so that no others could find out about it.

Late Spring

Betrys, Jag, and Gretchen are getting along a little too well. I’ve seen them gathering together a lot recently. They wear matching bronze pins on their chests and speak with others about something. We’ll need to keep an eye on them.

Early Summer

Today was the most eventful day and more than I could ask for! Today was the day for Jeb’s regular trip to Gordin’s Delve. Our travelling party currently consists of Jeb, Madoc, Mady, Mirriam, Harri, Railan, Stridelong, Zawya, and myself. After making camp at a rest stop for the night on the Crossroads, we noticed that Stridelong was missing. Railan, Zawya, Madoc, and myself decided to go looking for him especially since he may have run into whatever that animated corpse was…

When we came upon him, he was in the midst of a bout between a fully grown underbeast and the Pale Hunter with its pack of wolves! Madoc had gotten separated from us in the excitement, but there was no time to wait around. Railan led us to attempt at shoving a large tree branch in between the two, but Zawya rushed forward with an enlarged flame blessed by ___. She was able to scare off the underbeast and stop the fight. Stridelong was now safe, but Zawya entered into an intense staredown with the Pale Hunter. She was staring down a Maker!!! She had interrupted his hunt!! I don’t know if she was always this way or if her age has made her more bold, but she turned away from the Pale Hunter. Afterwards, we noticed that she was marked on her back. Most likely from the Pale Hunter before they ran off towards the underbeast again. Everyone safely made it back to camp, and Madoc arrives shortly after.

She was accompanied by one of the Pale Hunter’s ethereal wolves that she lovingly called Mistic. Something seemed different about both of them. In her story, she highlighted parts where she went against the grain of normal thinking; and the beast was not as ferocious as they seemed when accompanied by the hunter. Almost as if her taming the beast awoke something in her and calmed the beast.

Session 5

Madoc awakens in the morning with Mistic curled against her. The large wolf breathes slowly, her huge bulk rising with each breath. Madoc avoids the growing puddle of drool as best she can and rouses herself. She hears Taliesyn and Emmet having a muted discussion in the wagon. She can’t resist padding over to listen in:

“I understand why you feel this way, but I know my Arcana can be of great help to the village!” Taliesyn is saying. “In fact, just last week Zavia and I performed The Convocation of Soil which should improve our yield by–”

“But at what cost?” asks Emmet with a hoarse voice. “You know I love you and I trust you. That’s why I haven’t shared your…research with anyone. But that means I’m the only one who can caution you. And I do strongly ask for caution. The people who made these magicks aren’t around any more. You never wonder why? Don’t you think by drawing on their power we’re making the same mistakes?”

There’s a pause, and the sound of people shifting their weight. Taliesyn sighs, “We have to do something. Every year it gets harder. Stonetop is special; a lot of people are noticing. Even now, we’re going to Gordin’s Delve because our little village is in the middle of something. We can’t just hide and scrape by forever.”

“Now you sound like Betrys.” says Emmet coldly. “At least she is open about her intentions. She has even convinced a few people to join her. While you skulk around in the shadows. I don’t like it.” Another pause.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this alone any more; that’s why I included Zavia. And I will continue to follow my promise. I’ll share more with the village. Just let this soil convocation improve the yield, and that will help convince folks that I have a point! Come fall there won’t be any more secrets.”

Madoc pouts a little as she walks away from the wagon. She likes secrets. And breakfast. Where is breakfast?

Soon everyone is awake and enjoying the last cool moments of the morning. The rations are hearty, but Madoc is hoping for something a little more exciting at Gordin’s Delve. When she asks her mother what the food is like there, Mady just replies, “It will always leave you hungry for more.” Madoc rolls her eyes and mutters, “So glad you came along to protect me from any excitement.” Mady doesn’t even look offended. Just worried.

As the group is packing up for the final stretch, Stridelong and Railan take some time to train Emmet and Harri in some travel formations. “Anything could come upon us suddenly. Even on the Maker’s Road we still need to be alert. As soon as you hear or see anything strange, run to your post. Literally.” Railan slaps one of the wagon support beams. “We each take a corner and keep everyone near the wagon. Stash your weapons like this so you can grab them quickly.” Harri is humming along to some tune while Emmet focuses on the training drills with a determined look. Tired, though.

“Everyone looks tired” Jeb thinks to himself as he sits in the wagon watching the militia members. “Maybe we should take another day to rest” he says aloud to Madoc as she crawls into the wagon with him.

“No thank you!” Madoc says in a smiley sing-song voice. “Aren’t you a little excited to see what Gordin’s Delve is like? You once told me it was different each time.”

“It is…but not necessarily in a good way. It’s not really a home like Stonetop. People just passing through forever.” He lets out a sigh as he finishes packing the wagon. “I kind of hope you hate it, too. Then you, me, and your mom can all return to Stonetop happy.”

Madoc just puts her arms around him, tousling his hair. “I’m happy now, Jeb. Let’s just enjoy the trip as best we can.” He huffs, but leans back against her.

Outside Miriam calls over Little Owl. “Do you think we shuld bother them?”

“Why?” Asks Little Owl, puzzled.

“So we can ride in the wagon!” she exclaims, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“I can walk” Little Owl explains, “After all, did you know that on the plains the grasses have a shared root system? That’s why the wind affects them all the same. It’s like an ocean of–” He’s interrupted by Madoc and Jeb tumbling out of the wagon.

“All yours!” Madoc says brightly, as she straightens her shirt and walks off to help pack. Jeb gives Little Owl a wink, confusing him even further. Miriam tugs Little Owl into the wagon as he tries to finish his explanation. “–we call it ‘Gwead’ but really it’s a dozen different varieties of–”

Soon the group is underway. A few hours later Gordin’s delve comes into view. Crumbling walls, pockmarked mountains, a cloud of eternal dust, and vague outlines of people bustling aboud. Conversations slowly trickle off and an awkward silence settles on the road.

“Okay, let’s discuss the plan”, says Jeb. “Usually there are three bribes to enter the city: 1 for the scoudnrels on the road, one for the gate guards, and one for the market leaders.” He taps 3 jugs of whiskey in the wagon. “I’ll sell half of my stock today, pay for an inn, sell the rest tomorrow, and leave by sunset. In and out.” He looks expectantly to Mady who nods.

“Agreed. In and out.” She explains the general politics of Gordin’s Delve (as well as she knows). Gordin’s Delve is ruled by several Bosses:

  • Mutra the Teeth. The strongest boss, but has been missing for over a year. Their organization is starting to crumble as their underlings try to keep things together.
  • Odin Thriceborn. The up and coming leader. So named because he killed his three oldest sons when they disappointed him. Desperate to expand and take over Mutra’s holdings.
  • Honest Draigh. Has an honorable reputation which limits them. Both admired and pitied by folks.

“I say we find an inn or shop run by Draigh, drop off the boxes anonymously, and make it their problem.”

“But if we’re seen we could end up in the middle”, Counters Railan. “Let’s just be direct and honest. Give back the boxes. No need to stories or strategies.” Mady shakes her head, but most folks agree with Railan. Only Jeb and Mady look nervous about this plan.

As promised, there’s a group of scoundrels lounging near the road a mile outside of Gordin’s Delve. Two are standing on an overturned wagon, bows drawn, while 3 others have their hands on their swords. One steps forward, “Welcome to Gordin’s Delve, fair travellers!” She gives a cheeky bow.

“We’re here to see Thriceborn”, Madoc shouts. “Our business is important!”

The scoundrels shift their weight from foot to foot. “Well Mutra the Teeth runs this town” drawls the leader. “And our welcoming comittee needs to eat.” She’s already reaching for the jug of whiskey that Jeb offers. Railan and Madoc look insulted, but everyone remains calm. Soon they’re approaching the front gates, into which a short line of other wagons has formed.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Stonetoppers.” says the dust-covered guard. “The last jar of your famous whiskey was opened for a wedding last night. Since then we’ve worked up a mighty thirst.” He takes the profferred whiskey and asks, “To the market, I assume?”

“Yes” says Jeb.

“But! We also have a delivery for Thriceborn.” says Zavia. “Can you point us to his nearest holding?”

“I’ll do you one better”, says the guard. He waves over a tall woman wearing bright colors and brandishing a clipboard as if it were a weapon. “Darya, these folks have a delivery for Thriceborn.”

“Is that so”, she asks, both stern and bored at once. “Let’s see it” as she walks to the back of the wagon.

Zavia spends a few moments in conversation with the guard, whose name is Otho. He tells her of his debt to Mutra, how his son is held hostage, and how he hopes that they can all accomplish their business with minimal trouble. Zavia feels herself falling into a grandmotherly role…again. “Dammit”, she thinks to herself, knowing she has to find someway to help this kind father.

Darya retuns from her inventory red face and flushed. “I’ll get word to Thriceborn immediately! Guard, please keep watch on this group until I return. Nothing and no one is to leave your sight.” She dashes off in a cloud of dust.

A few hours pass, with the group getting more bored and antsy. “What is taking that woman so long”, wonder Madoc. She gets up from the wagon and goes to ask her mom a question, but Mady is nowhere to be found! Trying to avoid drawing attention, she quietly asks Railan and Stridelong if they know where she went. And how long she’s been missing.

Finally, just as the sun is setting Mady slinks back to the wagon. The guards looks at her questioningly. “Nature calls!” she says with an embarrased smile. Madoc drags her into the wagon and hisses, “Where have you been? I’ve–”

“Quiet dear”, says Mady, putting her arms gently on Madoc’s shoulders. “It’s almost over. I made a deal with Honest Draigh. They’ll buy all of our whiskey and take the boxes off our hands. Their traders are waiting for us just outside the city. We can leave now and be back on the right by nightfall.” Madoc looks more and more surprised, until she finally bursts out.

“What?!” and then much quieter, “Mom, how could you go behind our backs? This isn’t just a family trip there are other people who–” Mady starts to get angry (and scared, Madoc can tell).

“Listen! This is safer, faster, and better. And it’s already been arranged. If you tell the rest of the group they’ll agree, I’m sure.”

“This is not the way Mom. You can’t use fear as an excuse to bully everyone else.”

“I can, and this time I will. You should never have come, and now I’m making sure we get everyone home safe.”

Madoc is fuming, but she and Mady gather everyone together and have a quiet discussion about what to do. While most agree with Mady, there are a few holdouts. Railan, Madoc, and Miriam want to deal with Thriceborn directly. Little Owl and Jeb just looks exhausted and don’t care what happens. Stridelong wishes he’d thought of sneaking off alone. He notices Darya returning and hushes the rest of the group.

“Thriceborn will see you now.” Realizing their delay made the decision for them, they group up and follow after Darya. Sounds of a lively party drift from a crowded tavern. “Thriceborn’s oldest son is getting married.” explains Darya.

“Oldest remaining son”, mutters Mady as they step inside. All the tables have been arranged around a dance floor, but most of the guests can barely stand, much less dance. The tables are covered in dirty plates and empty glasses. A voice cuts above the din:

“Welcome Stonetoppers!” says a large-bearded man sitting at the head of the center table. “Welcome to my son’s wedding…or is this the afterparty? Doesn’t matter. Pull up a chair and tell me of this special gift you’ve brought.”

Madoc is the first to sit and sip and sup. “Oh! This is your special brew, Jeb! I didn’t know you already sold it.”

“It’s from last years batch”, explains Jeb, as Thriceborn looks proudly at the group.

“Only the best for my guests! Anyway, tell me everything.” He demands as he takes another sip of soup and swigs his glass. More of it ends up in his beard than his mouth, and there’s not a clean napkin to be seen.

The group looks at once another awkwardly, unsure who should speak first. Thriceborn waves a chicken leg at Little Owl, who clears his throat, coughs, chokes a bit, and finally starts the tale. Thriceborn nods along, but doesn’t interrupt as Little Owl explains how they met the hillfolk, were given the boxes, and returned them to him directly. “And now…here we are.” Little Owl finishes lamely.

There’s a pause, then Thriceborn throws down his chicken lag and claps his greasy fingers together. Some folks around the table jerk awake and try to clap along. “Well done! A very good story, I think. Even more rare, a true story!” He says, smiling. The rest of the room is either asleep or half-paying attention. “But there are a few parts of the story that you’re missing. Or maybe that you don’t know about.” His smile grows wider as he tells his own story.

“Once upon a time there was an civilized businessman.” he gestures to himself. “Who wanted to bring gifts to his neighbors. He went out to the wildfolk in the hills and offered generous trades of stone and ore for their trinkets. But they were not interested. So he returned with gems and gold. But they were not interested. The man realized that the only thing he had left to offer was the gift of civilization itself. They wouldn’t understand at first, but like children, they would grow to thank him for his generosity.”

Upon seeing the blank stares of the PCs, he puts his drink down and shakes some of the food from his beard. “Perhaps I am too drunk for a good story, so I’ll speak plainly. I want mining rights to those hills, and I made a generous offer to those savages. Far far more generous than they deserve. And yet they not only rejected my offer, but foisted it upon you in an effort to mislead us both! So now I’m sending you back with a message for them: Since I can’t purchase the ore, I must assume it is free for the taking. And I will take it.”

He sits back, finally satisfied. “And to you I offer nothing but thanks. You could have easily kept that gold and no one would have known. But instead you were…civilized. I’m going to offer top price for your whiskey, and provide any materials or supplies you need for your return journey. What else would you ask of me?”

A few small requests are made, but the biggest ones are from Zavia. “Thriceborn, I have a wishlist of smithing materials I would like. But more importantly I want the guardsman, Otho, to be freed alongside his son.” Thriceborn smiles, perhaps the first genuine smile of the evening.

“How can one father deny another? I’ll make sure his debts are paid. And all your other wishes granted. Please enjoy the evening with whatever Gordin’s Delve has to offer.” He sends them out with a voucher to party on his tab, which each decides to enjoy in their own way.

Talisyn’s Journal

Early Summer

Journeying on the Crossroads

Our small caravan travelled for an additional three days before we came remotely close to Gordin’s Delve. When we were about half a day’s travel from our destination, Jeb stopped us to reorganize his cart. He placed all the whiskey bottles at the front of the cart for easier access. He told us that, to pay his way through town and get a chance at selling his wares, he needed to bribe a few people with some bottles on the way. Mady piped up and said we should just announce our alliance with Thriceborn upon arrival to expedite the process. Jeb didn’t want to be beholden to whatever requests or demands Thriceborn would have of him. Railan wanted to personally deliver the crates back to Thriceborn that his name was written on. This whole situation makes me uncomfortable to even think about when we can make an enemy of not one but two or three different mob bosses in the city…

Arrival at Gordin’s Delve

At the edge of the encampment on the outer rim of Gordin’s Delve, we got shaken down by some people. No idea who they were affiliated with, if anyone. A lot of us in the caravan are still new to how things work here, so Jeb just paid them off with a couple bottles. It was easy, but we had a limited supply. How many would we have left to sell? Jeb mentioned on the side that there might be a “tax” on the way out as well. Gordin’s Delve is our nearest neighbor, but is it truly worth it to sell to them every year?

I was so unsettled that I could barely focus on Gordin’s Delve itself. It’s a perfect opportunity to learn more about Makers and their history. It is built in the ruins of a Makers’ city. I only hope there’s time to explore more of this magnificent place.

We eventually reached the front gate, and a few of us in the caravan seemed to finally grasp the situation as we learned that the cart was too big to fit through the streets of Gordin’s Delve. We would need to pay people to let us through and watch the cart, carry the stuff, and then set up shop. If that’s two bottles per transaction, Jeb loses almost half of his inventory to just bribes. Railan and Madoc start the negotiations to go see Thriceborn with no luck. Stridelong gets fed up and snaps at the head guard at the gate, Osho. He apparently works for the mob boss Mutra the Teeth, who could have an interest in these crates, too. But we stand firm and ask to see a representative of Thriceborn. About an hour or so later, an older woman named Darya shows up. Stunning red robes, bangles on her feet, long flowing hair, and a clipboard? Zawya, with her years of experience, showed Darya one of the crates. From her reaction, it was probably the more expensive one… They talked for a moment before Darya had to leave, and then we needed to wait another hour or so.

Well, more than two hours passed. It was getting dark, and Osho had to leave. Shortly after, Mady walked up and told us she struck a deal with another mob boss?! No one had even seen her leave! Railan did not look happy about this new development, and that definitely made me worry, too. Not only did we have to choose between paying bribes or not, we also had to choose between three equally scary mobs that could retaliate against us or worse, Stonetop!

I think we all let out a sigh of relief as Darya came marching around the corner again. She was to bring us directly to Thriceborn. It was his birthday apparently. I guess we couldn’t have picked a better time to come.

Darya briefed us on a few rules. I had to take special note of “don’t walk on the rug” because I knew I would forget that. Thriceborn has a big presence, and it is intimidating. At one point, he wanted to hear how we came to acquire his things, and, being the Chronicler of Stonetop, I obliged to regale the large hall with exactly as I had written it down. It seemed to go well? But apparently Thriceborn is not on good terms with the Hillfolk. He wants mining rights in the Flats. He was going to pay them for the rights, but this has been rejected. He then proceeded to show us a small army of 40 fully armed troops. He then told us to take this knowledge to the Hillfolk. My stomach turned, and I couldn’t eat for the rest of the night before we sleep back at the Lucky Tumble.

Session 6

We begin with each PC using their voucher from Thriceborn

Taliesyn browses the nightmarket, looking for any potential arcana. He finds a massive cylinder of Makerglass that has a familiar vibration. Before reaching for it, he remembers his promise to Emmet, and goes off to find someone else to aid him. He spots Railan wandering the city, taking note of how its defenses are organized. Railan is deep in thought, muttering to himself. “Surely they have a central barracks. Unless…split up aroudn the city. Yes, for quick response–oh, hello Taliesyn.”

“Would you help me with something?”

“Of course.”

“Something…magical?”

Railan pauses. “…maybe. What’s up?”

The two of them return to the merchant who is showing the cylinder to another customer. Taliesyn looks imploringly at Railan, who steps in. “Actually, we just purchased this” he says, putting the voucher in the merchant’s hands and grabbing the cylinder. At the sight of Thriceborn’s voucher, both customer and merchant clam up. As Railan struggles to carry it away, Taliesyn eagerly shares his theory on how Markerglass was actually a byproduct of their energy manifestations, which of course relied upon solar energy to–

They pass by Madoc and Mady who are both stubbornly ignoring the other. More to rile her up than anthing else, Madoc suggests, “Well, shall we get a drink or something?” Mady scoffs. “Mom, how long are you going to be this way?”

Mady stops and turns around, looking hurt. “Once we’re back in Stonetop I promise that–”

“No!” Madoc cries. “This isn’t a one-time thing. This is going to happen again. I will not be locked up in Stonetop for the rest of my life.”

“Of course, dear. I know that. But your destiny is–”

“You don’t know my destiny!” Madoc motions all around her. “It could be anywhere! Even someplace that you don’t like. I know you’re afraid and that you’ve been hurt by the world. But I’m done hiding. That’s not how you raised me.”

Mady’s expression softens. “You can blame your father for that one. He was always brave.” She sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I thought I’d feel more relief about returning home. But Thriceborn isn’t done with us. This whole trip changes everything.” She crumples the Thriceborn voucher in her fist.

“You’ll always be my mother. And I’ll always love you.” Madoc says, gently taking the voucher and smoothing it out. “You taught me to never be wasteful. It would be a shame to miss out on a beautiful evening. Isn’t there anything fun to do around here?”

Mady pauses, considering. “Actually, there is a dance hall run by Honest Draigh.” Madoc grabs her hand and pulls her forward, Mistic following behind. “Um…it’s the other direction, dear.”

Back at the wagon, Miriam, Jeb, and Emmet secure some rooms at the Lucky Tumble, Thriceborn’s inn.

Zavia and Little Owl are about to head to their respective rooms when they hear someone whispering about “the good stuff”. Intrigued, they manager to secure some “Delver Dust”. It’s a golden powder that (supposedly) shows the user whatever they most desire.

The two malcontents wander off to find a quiet, natural place to watch the stars. Of course when the find the perfect outcrop, Stridelong is already there! They interrupt his brooding with and offer him some of the dust. He accepts, not fully realizing what it is. Together they partake.

Little Owl sees the foothills covered in horses and Hillfolk. He longs to join them, and is suddenly riding among them; connected to both land and mount in equal measure. These are a people who know what it means to respect nature and to hold things sacred.

Zavia has another vision of Fire on the Water; the same image that drew her to Helior in the first place. As the vision fades, she is shocked to hear that Stridelong had the same vision! Both of them compare stories and have a sense that the vision took place in the Deep Forest.

Everyone manages to stumble back to the inn, and sleepily gathers in the morning to begin the return journey home. The trip is uneventful; as return trips usually are.

The evening before the return to Stonetop, the group sees a lone traveller camping along the roadside. They decide to camp nearby: safety in numbers. In the morning, everyone is surprised to discover that it’s Jag! He joins them for their morning breakfast.

With an excited and nervous cadence he tells them all the things that have happened in Stonetop since they left. A few nights ago there were a few farmers and watchmen finishing up some work in the fields. They heard a grinding sound and came across several redeads slowly dismantling the Old Wall. The watchmen tried to stop them, but each lumbering redead was as strong as an ox and twice as tough. Aaron was severely injured in the defense, and all the militia’s efforts only slew three of the monsters. Even Daub’s dogs were outmatched, as big and fierce as they are.

Then Gretchen was there! Her arms glowed with bright blue veins, and she reeked of sulfur. Each punch was an explosion of lightning, and she singlehandedly dispatched the remaining redeads. Breathing heavily, she threw her fists into the air while loudly proclaiming that Tor had saved them!

Since then, “Tor’s Militia” has had many new recruits, and Betrys is preaching to half the village every evening. The entire group is disturbed by this news, but Taliesyn looks physically ill.

When they arrive in Stonetop, each PC gets a few scenes to play out their arrival:

  • The whole village is grateful for the surplus from Jeb, and delighted by the reward from Odin Thriceborn. The PCs are careful not to say how indebted Stonetop may be.
  • Zavia takes the forge tools back to Sorsha who is so excited! “Now I can forge some armor and weapons to aid in the defense of the village”. Zavia is approached by Otho, the guard she freed. He explains that while he paid her debts, he now owes favors to Thriceborn. He and his son will never be safe unless they can disappear. In a moment of extreme generosity, Zavia gifts him and his son the wagon and Priscilla. “Go, with Helior’s Blessing.” Otho can hardly express his thanks. Soon Zavia is moved in with Sorsha, grappling with what it means to truly make a home here.
  • Stridelong offers to help Daub bury one of his dogs. Daub is distraught, and determined to train even harder. “My dogs could be the key to saving the village. Help me, Stridelong.”
  • Little Owl is relaxing near a stream when Betrys approaches him. They make some cutting remarks back and forth when Betrys makes a genuine offer to help him discover the secret of the Stone. “All storms come from Tor, especially the ones that strike the rock. He can reveal many truths.” Little Owl comes away from this conversation tempted, but cautious.
  • Railan goes to see Aaron, who was injured in the fight. Aaron admits that he is relieved. “At least with a broken leg I can finally rest and spend time with my husband.” Railan feels like he failed in his role as Marshall. Perhaps he can’t afford any more expeditions away from the town.
  • Taliesyn has been keeping a close eye on Jag since they saw him on the road. Finally, he confronts Jag. “I know you have an Arcana, Jag. I can smell it on you. Please let me help. You can trust me.” Jag reluctantly agrees, but only if Taliesyn doesn’t tell anyone else. Once again, Taliesyn is keeping dangerous secrets.
  • Madoc is relieved to see her father and mother reunited. The entire trip back her mother seemed so much lighter and happier. Mady and Mistic even started getting along (although the large wolf doesn’t quite fit in Madoc’s room, try as she might). She and Jeb have a difficult conversation about their future, with Madoc admitting that Stonetop may not be her home. Jeb is sad, but accepting.

The final days of Summer wind down, and the cooler winds of Fall begin to blow…

Taliesyn’s Journal

Early Summer

After Thriceborn’s Party

After Thriceborn’s dinner party concluded, our group split up to attend to our individual tasks. I went walking around the market to see what sort of trinkets I could come across, and I did come across a good one! A chime made of makerglass; around 4 feet tall up to my chest and thin as can be 3 inches around. It was priced the same as Jeb’s special brew! At first I thought he could pay for it, but he reminded me that Thriceborn was willing to pay for it. Might as well try! But first, I had to find Railan to bring him along; I trust his judgement after all.

I found him marveling at how the guards in Gordin’s Delve were organized. I brought him back to the merchant to take a look at this marvelous chime. Unfortunately, another person was interested in it. I tried to strike up a conversation about why they were interested in it and how they thought it would be played as an instrument. They promptly left while I was trying to ask them questions. I guess they didn’t want to talk…

But it worked out to our benefit as we brought the chime over to the shopkeeper. They seemed hesitant to hear that Thriceborn would foot the bill, but they were convinced after learning they could talk to Darya with the clipboard. Now we have a chime to help guard Stonetop! Hopefully…

On the journey back to Stonetop, I heard what everyone else was up to as well.

Madoc enjoyed a night out with Mady! They went to a nice place and went line dancing. Little Owl and Zawya went looking for some different kind of fun involving dust? Stridelong went to find a contact of some sort, eventually joining Little Owl and Zawya. Railan and I hung out observing the Gordin’s Delve guards in how they operated.

The Journey Back to Stonetop

Going back to Stonetop was overall uneventful. We were coming back with two more people: Osho and his son Ulliam. The only notable event was that about 1 day’s journey out from Stonetop, there was a person at a rest stop on the Crossroads. We know there’s no risk of getting hurt, but it’s still better to be safe and have the militia and Osho keep watch. One more night and we’ll be in Stonetop.

We all awoke to Osho arguing with Jag, who was the person camped out at the rest stop. We learned from that Betrys has been holding a LOT of sermons and gatherings in the pub recently. She’s been evangelizing… a little. But my worst nightmare came true as those shambling animated corpses came back to attack Stonetop, ripping up the Old Wall. The militia killed 2 of them before Aaron got seriously injured. One of Daub’s dogs took down one of them before it was also killed. Gretchen faced the last three by herself, wielding some sort of energy in her fists as she did so and proclaiming that Tor was the source of her strength.

I’ve watched Zawya for a while now. Her connection to Helior is strong, but not that strong. Betrys has a similar connection to Tor, so why didn’t she receive this miraculous power instead of Gretchen? This has got to be the power of Major Arcana, and I need to get down the bottom of this.

Additionally, Jag is out here by himself. He said he was on his way to us, but the amount of supplies he has does not suggest that. Clutching the Azure Hand, I could feel the energy of something in the tent. I think it was potentially elemental? I’m a lot closer to Jag than I am Gretchen right now, so that’s the first thing I should look into.

Return to Stonetop

The town greeted us with smiling faces and open arms when we got back to the village. It would have been nice to join in the celebrations, but Jag left abruptly. I followed him closely before I finally decided to confront him and ask what he was up to. I could sympathize with wanting to find out more about arcana or strange items. He eventually opened up. He promised to confess to me what he’s been practicing away from Stonetop as long as I don’t tell anyone. I’ll keep it a secret, but could I convince him to share of his own volition?

Events that Taliesyn was not present for:

  • Railan had a hard conversation with Aaron about the Marshall’s responsibilities. Aaron resigns from the militia to stay home with his husband.
  • Little Owl attempts to enjoy quiet time at the river but is interrupted by Betrys. He learns a little more about her beliefs of Tor: he is the thunder bringer & rain maker. He must raze a forest to let new life grow.
  • Stridelong is learning to use his arcana of moving mushrooms. He tried to convince Daub to let him reanimate his dog at the cost of it only following a single command, yet he respected Daub’s wishes to not do so.
  • Zawya returns to Sorsha’s house. Sorsha has been getting a lot of orders for the bronze pins of Tor recently. Zawya is happy that she has work but thinks she should decline the commissions. Zawya finishes the conversation claiming that she’s done travelling and wants to settle down.
  • Osho and Ulliam tell Zawya they are leaving Stonetop. They were meant to report back to Thriceborn. Zawya, the merciful lightbearer, gives Priscilla and her cart to Osho to help him stay safe on his travels.
  • Madoc talks with Jeb about how much he sees her changing. He’s afraid that she’ll leave on an adventure and never come back one day. Not that she’d be hurt but that she’d find purpose outside of Stonetop. He shares this fear with Mady.

Session 7

Zavia finishes her homily to the small crowd. There’s only so much comfort that can be had after a funeral. But hopefully these folks take something from her simple words. Anything is better than Betrys’ rousing screed.

‘Even our deaths fertilize the soil of tomorrow’ – what crock! If the village wasn’t so damn scared, Betrys would have been (rightly) criticized for such a long and callous sermon. As it stands…Zavia fears there will be more “fertilizer” in the future.

“And after we have enjoyed the warmth and community of Helior’s light, sometimes we need to cool off. Little Owl will be hosting several cleansing stream sessions at the riverbank over the next few days. I encourage you to embrace whatever comforts you can, and offer the same to one another.” She steps down from the dias and embraces those who need a hug. Soon the evening grows dark and she heads to Sorsha’s. To home.

Zavia had a much easier time moving in with Sorsha since she gave her wagon, donkey, and most travelling supplies to Osho. As she and Sorsha are sitting in the back watching the coals of the forge burn low, Sorsha asks a halting question:

“Do you…ever feel Helior? You describe her warmth, her light, but does it feel like this?” she gestures towards the forge. “Does Helior feel real? Like me?”

At the mention of Helior, Zavia sits up a little straighter and the forge glows a bit brighter. “I feel it now, actually. It’s like cause and effect; the forge is brighter now BECAUSE of Helior. Just like the bed is warmer because of you. It’s the same.” Zavia puts her hand over Sorsha’s, and looks into Sorsha’s eyes. There’s a question in them. “Ask me” says Zavia.

“…Can we make the forge hotter?”

That’s not the question Zavia was expecting. “What?”

“Some of the materials we got from Gordin’s Delve require more heat to meld. With a larger forge I could build up that temperature myself, but maybe Helior can help us get there anyway?”

At some point Zavia let go of Sorsha’s hand. “Oh. Sure.”

“Zavie? I want to help protect the village.”

“I know. Yes. I know.” Zavia collects herself. “Let’s try it. First thing tomorrow, I’ll commune with Helior.”

The next evening, Zavia delivers 4 spearheads of shining steel to Railan’s militia. “A gift from Sorsha”, as she lays them out on the table. Railan offers a grim smile in thanks. “These will be a great help in defending the village. Tell Sorsha I’ll use whatever she provides; and to maybe slow down her work on the Tor medallions.” He tests the spear edges with his thumb. “But what we really need is a Palisade.”

“I spoke with Madoc. We have the stone and metal we need. But we’re short on wood.” He puts the spears down and crosses his arms. “When I mentioned it to Stridelong, he pointed to the trees like I’m an idiot. But the Pact with the Forest Folk can’t be broken. He’s new to the village, and doesn’t realize how many people still hold to the memory of the Pact.”

Zavia was quiet for a moment. Stonetop is slow to change, but fear and desperation are powerful motivators. “As Betrys has proven” she mutters.

“What? Betrys?” Railan asks, confused.

“Yeah. Actually.” Zavia straightens. “What if we used her fanatacism for our benefit? If she can convince people to join her little army, then I bet she can convince people to abandon The Pact. We just have to make it seem like her idea.”

Insinuations are made. Ideas are planted. Betrys is inspired. A few days later Betrys gives a blazing sermon on the importance of abandoning old ways that hold us back. She even mentioned the Pact and how we can’t let fear give way to weakness. A few days later and most of the village seems onboard with the idea. Construction on a new palisade begins in earnest.

The village is so invested in this new project that they almost don’t notice the new arrivals until they pass through the fields. The wagon reeks of Gordin’s Delve, and a tall woman in flowing colors emerges wielding a clipboard. “It’s even more quaint than I pictured” she says while burly mercenaries unload the wagon. Madoc approaches her, the obvious question unspoken.

“We’re here to take an inventory of our new allies”, explains Darya. “Thriceborn wants to ensure your stability and health before he expands his mining operations.” After an awkward pause she adds, “And don’t mind the boys. They’re just for show.” She gives a forced smile that contrasts with the grim frowns on the mercenaries.

“You are welcome guests” says Madoc, “but we don’t appreciate soldiers in our granaries. You may stay in the common house, talk to folks, and enjoy the beautiful vistas.”

Darya nods. “Of course when our operations begin in earnest, we may need to station a small contingent here. For your protection, of course. The Hillfolk may incorrectly assume you are to blame. Better for your ‘folks’ to get used to seeing Thriceborn colors guarding their paradise.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen”, says Railan. “However I’d hate for your trip to be a waste. You don’t happen to have an engineer among your mining expedition do you?”

Soon Darya’s engineer has gotten work back on schedule, and everyone is glad to see Darya’s wagon lurching away from the village. “We haven’t seen the last of them”, says Betrys. She looks meaningfully at Madoc. “I hope your little deal with Thriceborn doesn’t become an issue.”

“If it does, I know you’ll be there to gloat about it.” Madoc says flippantly, and walks away.

Meanwhile Taliesyn and Jag have been untangling the secrets of the Bleached Book. They have all the materials they need, and have crafted the “blood candle” as Jag calls it. “Candle of Charred Aetherium Flakes” doesn’t have the same ring to it, according to Jag.

“A few more weeks of research and we should be ready for a tentative first test.” says Taliesyn, excitedly.

Jag frowns. “What are you talking about? Let’s use it tonight. We need it now, before anything befalls the town.” He reaches for the candle.

Talisyn resists the urge to slap his hand away. “It’s too dangerous! We must be careful to–”

“It’s too dangerous to wait. I’m doing this with or without you. Tonight.” Jag walks out with the candle, and Taliesyn sighs. As the sun falls, they set up the necessary materials near the Old Wall.

“Are you sure you–”

Jag quickly lights the candle and utters the wish they translated earlier.

Maker’s Wall of Magic and Stone Seek the Sky, Drink the Storm, Emerge Protect us From The Dark, Protect our Home And Let Be Once Again, Earth Surge

The candle quickly melts down to a puddle of wax, which seeps into the soil (reminding Taliesyn of how his Convocation went poorly in Spring). The two men hold their breath for a few moments, and let it out in a huff. “I guess it din’t work?” Asks Jag.

“Oh, it worked.” Says Taliesyn, sensing the deep magic pulsing underground. “We’ll keep an eye on things over the next few days. For now, let’s finish our task.” He takes the Bleached Book and starts piling kindling over it.

“What!” exclaims Jag. “But…What if we need it again?” By now the a small flame flickers on the kindling. Taliesyn holds the book over the fire.

“We’ve probably already paid too high a cost. Imagine if someone else got their hands on this? Trust me, some Arcana are better left as ashes.” Jag watches the book catch fire, any protest lodged in his throat. The two men could swear the book uttered a final scream before blazing bright and falling into ashes. Both Arcanists sleep soundly that night.

Over the next week the Old Wall slowly grows taller, like a shoot growing from the ground. Where previously the Old Wall had been waist height, now only the tallest farmers can see over it. Jag and Talisyn explain (most) of what they did, and that this will help keep the village safe.

For an entire day no lightning strikes the Stone. It’s almost with relief that folks hear the familiar crack-SMASH of lightning on stone. Only now it strikes the new Old Wall, and strikes sporadically along the entire circumference! Poor Keira was out gathering some herbs when the lightning strikes arced and burned her. Farmers give the Old Wall a wide berth, but most agree it’s probably just as dangerous to any attackers as to the locals.

Little Owl, Zavia, and Taliesyn make a quick trip to the Titan Bones. Railan refused to leave, determined not to be absent if the town is threatened.

The travelers light the bonfire and warn the Lower Green Moon tribe of what Thriceborn has in store. Kiln, their leader, nods along while her Second remains stern.

“And now we’re all in this together. He’s coming for your ore, and he’s going to hide behind Stonetop while he does so.” finishes Zavia, and she looks at both of them.

“I doubt anyone could hide behind your little fence” scoffs the Second.

Little Owl’s eyes bug out a little, and he points a finger at the little man. “You lied to US!” he accuses. “And you brought us into into the middle of a turf war! You’re lucky we don’t just tell Thriceborn everything we know about your people and watch him scatter them to the winds!”

The Second unfolds his arms and reaches for his weapon when Kiln smacks him across the face. Hard. He hits the dirt and scrambles back to his feet, eyes blazing. She merely looks down on him.

“You weren’t listening to the Earth.” She shrugs. “So I figured you needed to be a little closer to hear more clearly.” He opens his mouth, and she raises her hand. “These people speak the truth, whatever their blasphemies.” The Second looks around, and finding no support, he stomps off to sulk nearby.

“We have been preparing for Thriceborn as best we can. Many of the bands are not interested in joining together, but we have made pacts with a few. Hopefully we can repel and harrass his men enough that he decides our stone isn’t worth it.”

“I wish you luck”, says Zavia. “But we have to consider our own people as well. We can’t aid you in a fight on the Flats, but we can promise we won’t harbor soldiers.”

Kiln kneels down and presses her palm into the dirt. A moment of quiet lasts longer than is comfortable for the Stonetoppers. “Maybe you should harbor them.” She stands. “And send off a signal when they are vulnerable.”

Little Owl pipes up, “I have a formula for colored smoke. I can throw it into the forge. Hopefully your people will see it, and Thriceborn’s men will just think it’s part of our smelting process.”

Kiln agrees, and the Stonetoppers begin the short journey back to Stonetop.

Session 8

Stridelong knew that the strange mushroom clone would be weird. But he didn’t think it would be so unsettling. After burying the stag in the mushroom bed, he waited patiently for several days while the mount of fungus grew larger and larger, slowly taking shape. Soon a vague stag-shaped skeleton of fungal tendrils emerged and stumbled around his home. Hopefully the “PROTECT” command he imbued will direct the things actions. This is much easier than working with Daub’s dogs.

The dogs are growing feircer and more feral each day. They’re also getting bigger and…whiter? The only strategy he’s been able to rely on it getting the creatures to follow Mistic’s lead. He enjoyed working with Madoc; ever since she “adopted” Mistic she’s been easier to be around. Hopefully if there is a battle, the dogs will just follow Mistic, who will follow Madoc.

A few more days pass quietly in Stonetop. Everyone is dreading the coming Winter, and working hard to get things ready to go. So when the redeads approach in the middle of the night, exhaustion and fatigue slow the alarms.

A member of the Militia comes and wakes Railan. “Something’s out there, near the old wall. It’s Them.” Railan sends them off to wake the other Militia, and forces himself to walk to Betrys’ home. The last thing he wants is her meddling in everything, but if it can prevent even a single death, it’s worth the cost. She absorbs the news with a smile on her face. “I shall ready the might of Tor!”

The evening is a blur of cracking stone, angry shouts, striking lightning, and muffled cries. The non-combatants are quickly ushered to the Public House, and Kiera and Little Owl set up a simple medical area inside. Railan and Taliesyn lead the militia from the front, Stridelong scouts the edges, while Madoc and Zavia hang back waiting to see where they are needed.

This session was a blur of scenes and descriptions. So much fun! But hard to tie into a single narrative. So instead we’ll just jump around between different viewpoints and defining moments of the conflict.

Stridelong runs past a flood of people. Everyone is grabbing necessities and running towards the safety of the public house. He’s running in the same direction, but with a different purpose. As he breaks into the central plaza, he darts for the center of town and leaps up on the massive Stone. A few people stop and stare as he quickly scales the monolith. From it’s zenith he can see the entire town, almost all the way out to the ringwall. He notes that about 40 redeads have congretated along the Old Wall, wholly focused on its destruction.

After a quick descent, he takes his report to Railan. Taliesyn listens along, and jumps in with “I think we should act cautiously. The Old Wall has stood for thousands of years. We don’t need to rush to its defense.”

Railan agrees, and addresses the defenders; a group of hunters, regular militia, Tor’s Militia, and a few martial-minded farmers. “We stand in defense of the people of Stonetop. Not its walls, nor its fields, not even our houses, but the people! Including you all! So we’re going to move with purpose and caution as a group. Spears in front, archers in the back. Gang up on an isolated redeads and stab them until they stop moving. Then retreat, regroup, and repeat.”

For the most part, this slow war of attrition goes well. Most of the redeads are content to merely tear down the wall, enduring or ignoring the lightning that strikes them.

A few bolts of lightning strike the same spot, igniting some grasses and leavings. The wind and the chaos seem to fuel the blaze, and it quickly grows out of control. Taliesyn breaks away from the defenders and holds up a small staff. With a quick motion he gathers up the energy of the fire, and glows with flickering light.

At the same time Zavia noticed a few redeads split from the main group. They are meandering towards where Sorsha has set up a little repair station. Clearing her mind, she calls upon the familiar name of Helior, hoping for guidance and light.

Instead she gets silence.

Her run stumbles to a stop, and she reaches again for Helior’s warmth. Again, nothing.

As the redeads drift towards Sorsha, Zavia is overcome with disappointment and anger. All her life she has served Helior; spreading his mercy and light to any who need it. And yet Helior’s name is not known here. Stonetop instead prizes destruction and rebirth. It responds to obvious displays of power.

And with a start she realizes that her heart is no different. What good is a god who doesn’t show up when called? Perhaps Stonetop has the right idea all along.

She opens her heart to Tor and feels a flood of power channel through her veins. Where Helior was a subtle glow of heat, Tor is a cold rush of adrenaline and strength. Helior was comfort, Tor is power. And power is what she needs right now.

Taliesyn sees Zavia glowing with an icy blue light, and decides to channel the held energy of the fire into her. And she welcomes it! Her light burns an after-image into any onlookers, and she darts towards the redeads fast as blinking. With two strikes they are reduced to smoking husks; a threat to no one.

The other members of Tor’s Militia witness this brilliant display, and eagerly break formation. Soon they too are glowing and striking and burning. Railan presses the advantage as best he can, but the glowing defenders are just as dangers to their fellows as to the redeads.

Railan sees Aaron stumbling towards the front lines, supported by his husband. He’s filled with panic and fear as he sees his fellow townsfolk struggling against a terrible foe, or even accidentally injuring themselves. He tries to give a few strangled commands, but Railan is there, firm hand on shoulders. “Sit down, Aaron. I’m in command here.” A few moments later Railan has yelled, begged, and threatened the defenders back into an orderly group. He even suffered a jolting burn as he grapples with one of Tor’s defenders. “We fight for lives, not stones!” he cries, and shoves the last defender back into line. “Resume the assault! With purpose!” Aaron, for the first time in a long time, trusts Railan to keep everyone safe.

On the other side of town, Mistic growls low in her throat and takes off in another direction. Madoc and Mady follow her to find a group of 3 redeads who are flanking the other wall. Defenders are sparse, and Mistic seems determined to take down the redeads alone. Madoc and Mady try to tie up the redeads with a length of strong rope, but Mistic is still injured. She howls in pain, and several of Daub’s dogs howl in response. There’s a distant shatter, thumping footfalls, and soon the area is covered in massive white dogs darting here and there.

The redeads are quickly run down and disembowled, while some dogs go berserk, running back into the town with wild eyes. Several people scream in fear, and one man lets out a terrible gurgling cry as the dogs bite and slash him in their fury.

Madoc and Mady try to get Mistic to contain the dogs, but they’re too late to save poor Daub. He must have been trying to leash them when they turned on him. They pull his body towards the medical area of the central plaza, unsure of what else to do.

The medical area is a hive of actvity, with people nursing lightning burns, torn ligaments, and some more serious injuries. The strangest is one of Tor’s Militia, who glows with an ill-flickering light. With a jerk they stand up and let out a terrible howl. A galeforce of wind swoops through the plaza, dousing all lights and torches.

A small figure stands, their outline barely visible among the dust and flickering lights. The figure strides towards the glowing defender, and gently places their hand in front of the screaming gale. Like a window being shut, the wind slows and the light cuts out.

Someone gets a torch lit, and everyone sees Little Owl holding the limp defender and muttering a quiet prayer over them. He’ll actually perform this trick a few times, helping to grand and disappate the sometimes overwhelming energy that Tor is pooring into Stonetop. By the end of the battle, he emerges as one of its greatest heroes.

Most of the redeads have been slain, and the remaining ones writhe on the ground with missing legs or heads. While the rest of the town celebrates their victory, Stridelong pursues one retreating redead out beyond the Old Wall. He draws his bow, lines up for his shot, and lets fly the steel arrowhead. It pins the redead’s ribcage to a nearby tree, and the thing can’t wriggle free.

Stridelong cautiously approaches, and carefully severes the neck of the monster. A foul liquid oozes into the ground and the redead stops moving. He takes an hour to examine it more closely, noting the scarred hands, the hunched back, and old pattern of clothing it wears. He even finds some kind of brand or symbol etched into its back.

Later, while the town cleans up and breathes a sigh of relief, Stridelong shares what he found with the group. “Slaves”, Taliesyn confirms. “The Makers built the wall, and they didn’t do anything for themselves. They relied on a massive slave labor force for most of their large construction projects.”

“It makes sense that the angry souls would want to destroy the wall, but why did they have the same blood as the Underbeast we saw?” Stridelong asks.

No one has a good answer, but at least Stonetop has survived what could have been a disastrous night.