Hob joins up with the Piercing Swan and its crew of Sustainers, Iron Priests on an expedition to the Desolate Beacon.

---

I stood on the prow of the Piercing Swan, the wind in my face, scanning the Ragged Coast to my left and the scattered, small, and mostly unnamed Barrier Islands to my right. I had never sailed this far east and I had never been on such a swift longship. It was smaller than a warship but built for speed. Ships like this never visited the Gate. Mira stood next to me. She was some sort of warrior captain pledged to the Sustainers, one of the many new faiths I was not familiar with. One of those groups of Iron Priests that congregated around the massive ancient pillars that predate the arrivals. Mira was imposing but weary. She had watchful and cautious eyes, good for a captain. Her and her crew were on some sort of holy expedition to “confirm the truths” and “refute blighted falsehoods”. Apparently the mission had taken them to the western isles before returning back east and passing through Stoneharbor for resupply while en route to the Desolate Beacon (ominous, I know). After that, they would ultimately be returning to Autumnrush, so I had requested to join them. They needed an extra blade to protect the crew on their expedition and hadn’t asked me to oar, so it seemed like a fair exchange at the time. 

Roll: Swear an Iron Vow – Strong Hit 

The expedition had a sense of importance around it, so I took the vow, I would protect them until we reached Autumnrush. I didn’t ask for a lot of details, folly of youth, but I’m not sure they would have given me many even had I asked. I was clearly an outsider on the ship. Not mistreated, just ignored and usually avoided. They were all faithful and I did not share their faith, but I did have the blade, and Mira had apparently decided that another sword may be of use. So I kept apart and watched the sea. It was not unpleasant.

Roll: Undertake a Journey – Weak Hit, -1 supply

The wound on my thigh was almost unnoticeable, so long as I kept it wrapped tightly. My ankle, such a minor sprain, felt like it hadn’t healed at all though. So I held tight to the rigging to keep my weight off of it. I’d never been on a ship or boat for this long so my arms and legs quickly tired. But I felt less awkward standing and facing the sea and coast than sitting amongst the crew, better their furtive glances were at my back than to my face.

We had made good speed and I found the voyage exhilarating. The sun was setting as we passed Lowspring, a small isle fishing circle, barely within sight as we hugged the coast. Lowspring marked the furthest I had ever previously traveled from the Gate before this voyage.

Roll: Undertake a Journey – Weak Hit, -1 supply

The moon was bright and the expedition urgent, so we sailed through the night. She was high above the steep cliffs of the coast when we passed Broken Fjord, a cursed place I had heard of but never seen. It looked verdant and deep but the stories say every circle that settled there faced calamity, and now it is avoided by all, even by the most desperate sailors in search of refuge from the sea. I only realized what it was by the uncomfortable hush and overheard whispers of the faithful. After it passed out of sight behind us and the unease faded, I followed many of the crews’ lead, and attempted to sleep.

Roll: Undertake a Journey – Weak Hit, -1 supply

I woke with the sun and it was not too long after that we reached Brokefall, I knew of this place. This was where our ancestors had first met the Broken. Its natural harbor made an ideal landing for the first ships exploring the coast. Abundant lumber and calm fishing waters tricked them into believing this was paradise. Then the Broken attacked, murdering most and driving the few survivors back to the sea. Eventually the survivors returned though, with aid from more recently-arrived refugees. They took back the harbor, rebuilt, and waged the first brutal war in this new land, eventually driving the Broken north into the Deep Wilds. As we entered the bay, the low morning sun still casting shadows across the harbor, I saw that the ancient withered palisade from the First War still stood, patched and maintained. The houses and hovels were tightly packed within the palisade’s walls, as if the circle had been afraid to expand outward over the generations passed since the Broken had been driven away.

Mira quietly informed me that we would be reprovisioning here before leaving the coast and navigating the Barrier Islands to reach the Desolate Beacon. When built, the Piercing Swan had sacrificed space for more oar benches and a larger crew, and thus, a faster ship with less storage. Though we were not low on provisions since leaving Stoneharbor, we would need to have all that we could before the last leg of the voyage, as there were no ports in the southern isles to easily resupply and we would need to fend for ourselves until our return to the coast.

“That’s odd”, Mira nodded towards the few morning fishers in the harbor, who I hadn’t before noticed were frantically rowing back to the docks. Then the drumming started and the sleepy port came to life, it’s residents running to and fro in the distance.

“Do they think we’re raiders?” I looked back at the crew, we were too few in number to truly threaten a port of this size but this was unmistakably a circle preparing for an assault.

“Very odd”, Mira’s brow furrowed. Then louder to the crew, “Bring her in slow but at an angle in case we need to leave quickly. Restraint and calm!”

We could now see shields at the dock…and bows behind them. The blade wanted to be drawn but I refused. The Piercing Swan slowed. The tension accelerated. The shieldwall grew larger but , thankfully, no arrows were loosed.

As we came to a stop a short distance from the dock. A gaunt and ungainly man stepped from the shield wall. He wore a loose chain hauberk and held an axe at his side. But this was no warrior.

“No closer!” He had the voice of an orator, one that speaks loudly and expects to be heard. So this was their overseer or council speaker then?

“Aye, we will hold.” Mira raised her arms to show her hands were empty, a symbolic gesture at this distance.

“Are you raiders?” the man accused.

“Do we look like raiders?” Mira retorted.

“Maybe you do and maybe you don’t. Who are you and why are you here?”

“I am Mira the Sustainer. We are on a pilgrimage of truth and seek provisioning…why do you greet us in arms?”

“Because raiders have struck before, and they will again…and they look different each time. So you cannot shore. We have no provisions for you, only for those that reside within these walls.”

Roll: Compel , Heart, Storyweaver – Strong Hit

I could no longer contain myself, this was profane. Such abandonment of your cousins out of fear of deception would have been unthinkable at Sota’s Gate, or Stoneharbor, or Lowspring. It was weakness.

“But all of us, those that dwell along the coast and isles, holds against the raiders. And yet we still observe hospitality to weary travelers. Why do YOU not uphold? Why do you cower behind your walls?” 

Mira glared at me but allowed me to speak, limiting her reproach to her eyes.

“We ‘cower’ because of siege! Raiders have struck recently, many of our siblings are dead. The harbor is not safe. The woods and hills are not safe, they have robbed more. We are trapped within these walls. Even if you land, we can not provision you. We can not spare it.”

“But what of Pemba the Pilgrim?” I spoke louder, not quite a yell but passionate and forceful. Everyone that lived on a shore knew of Pemba.

*Morter had loved when I gave the stories of Pemba and he had traded me some of his best ones in return. I wonder what he’s gotten himself into these days.* *(story for another time)*

“Pemba was accepted by all ports, and all those that provided him shelter, had their fisheries bloom and their fields ripen. The beasts returned to the wilds and the horrors stayed to their cairns. We do not abandon our cousins to the sea. And in turn, they do not abandon us and we are able to sail beyond our harbors and fjords knowing we may find shelter away from home.”

The man sighed. His shoulders deflated and he waved us in with his axe.

“Fine. You may land.”

The shield wall behind him relaxed and weapons were lowered.

As the Swan reached the shore, Mira nodded to me to follow and hopped onto the dock. I followed. The hilt of the blade reached for my hand. Again, I refused it.

The man, Overseer Nazmi, sheepishly apologized. His eyes remained desperate though. He explained himself.

“They struck swiftly, a large ship and yellow sail.” Mira’s eyes flashed at the color. Our sail was blue and white, very much not yellow. Nazmi deflated further but continued, his cadence accelerating as his voice grew more pleaful. “When they were repelled at the shore, before they left, they took out their frustrations on the fishers that were still in the water. The full length of the harbor isn’t safe, the boats need to stay close. Which means we can’t truly fish. Which means we are forced to eat foodstores that should be saved. Yesterday, we sent a group to forage and collect timber to reinforce the walls and they haven’t returned…and should have. Which means the woods are a threat and we cannot risk leaving the shore unguarded to send a rescue party outside the walls. Yorath and Gethin went to scout at first light. They were not supposed to stray far…yet  they have not returned either. We are trapped…and so we act out of fear.”

Roll: Compel, Heart – Weak Hit

I looked to Mira, “We should help them.”

“But we are on an urgent undertaking. We can not spare the time or the risk. I have been tasked.”

“But is this not in line with some Sustainer oaths or vows? I don’t know your stories but are there none about aiding those in need when you are capable of doing so?”

She glared, thought, and then smirked in irritated amusement.

“Fine. You’re right. We will aid,”, she glanced at Nazmi, “but we will also need provisions to continue our task, no matter how little there is to give. And you.”, shifting her gaze to me, “you will need to accompany us offship among the Desolate Beacon, and your bravery will not falter or your vow rescinded no matter what we find, good?”

This sounded ominous and I regretted not asking for more details prior…but I had vowed and I would vow again. I was resolute, like Elstan.

Roll: Swear an Iron Vow – Miss => Burn Momentum – Strong Hit

I gripped my scabbard. “I swear, we shall find your people outside the walls and if they cannot be saved, we will destroy that which has taken them from you.”

Mira nodded, Nazmi’s eyes grew emotional and thankful, though the anxiety and fear was still present.

The Piercing Swan was docked and Mira organized the Sustainers. The better part of the crew, almost two dozen, equipped themselves and formed on the shore. Few were warriors or armed as such but they were all sailors, and sailors faced hardship head on. And these sailors were of the faithful. They were committed and competent.

I wandered the dock while I waited for the crew to assemble. I counted seven wreaths of spruce, all fresh and recently placed atop the mooring posts. Seven fishers who had not returned to shore, taken by the raiders’ brutal futility. A hard loss for any circle. A loss I hoped would not be made worse by whatever it was we were about to find in the woods.

We left the walls by late morning. Following the path the foragers had taken, we briefly walked along the shore of the harbor before veering north into a valley and its woods. The woods where lumber could still be found, the shoreline near the port having been cleared generations ago to build the palisades.

The trees grew thicker. They were tall and old, the walls must have been built with similarly sturdy trunks.

I led and Mira did not object. She seemed to be sussing me out, gauging me. She followed behind me to my left. Beside her, behind me to my right, was Perella (or at least I thought that was the name I had overheard). I’d never spoken with her but she had been one of the few to smile at me during the voyage. I was intrigued by her. She seemed traveled but was not quite a sailor. Was well armed and competent but was not quite a warrior. Confident but watchful. I wasn’t sure what she was but I wanted to find out.

Roll: Gather Information – Strong Hit; Discover a Sight – Infested Vale

We followed the path until the trees grew dense enough that the harbor and walls were lost from view. The path had long been reclaimed by the thick woods but wagon tracks were clearly visible in the crushed foliage and damp soil. It still hadn’t rained since we’d left Stoneharbor but the trees here were so tall and crowded that the forest floor was always in the shade. Always shaded and always damp. I lifted my arm to shield my face from the spider webs and we pushed on.

Soon after, we found the wagon. Just the wagon. Just the wagon and a freshly felled tree which looked like it was in the process of being chopped down into logs short enough to fit on the wagon. Two axes lay discarded on the ground. I could find nothing else. The rest of the search party began mingling around the wagon and looking for other signs of the foragers.

“The oxen tracks stop here as well…but I see no ox?”, volunteered Perella, matter-of-factly, as if it was an obvious observation only being shared for our benefit.

I hadn’t even noticed their tracks prior. She was a hunter too?

“Aye, and the traces are snapped. There’s no yoke or harness either.”, observed Mira.

Perella looked upwards, “The wood is too thick for a wyvern strike. You don’t suppose they picked up and carried the oxen further into the valley, do you?”

I chuckled at the joke to cover my unease. “Well I guess we could climb one side to get out of the valley and get a look around? Or we could push on down the path?”

Mira decided, “We follow the path, for now. The vale is too wide and I don’t want to lose anyone trailblazing under this tree cover. I can’t even see where the sun is or where it is headed. We could go in circles. If something is afoot, I prefer to know the quickest path back to those walls.”

I again took the lead and we pressed on into the dense valley, a long column, two by two. Alert and unnerved.

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits – Miss; Reveal a Danger – entangling plant life, Bloodthorne (only troublesome because of size of party)

We didn’t make it far, the path grew even more overgrown and there were still no signs of the forager’s passage. The occasional bushes of thorny vines snaking around and choking the trees became more common, hemming in on the path. They grew dense enough that someone rows behind me observed that we might need pull the axes and trailblaze regardless.

Roll: Face Danger, Iron – Strong Hit

Then something grabbed my ankle, the injured one. The blade screamed for my hand and this time, I accepted it. My swing was faster than my eyes and I felt the grip on my ankle fall away before I saw what had grasped it. I looked down to see a severed vine retreating into a thorny bush further down the path.

“The vines! They move!” I screamed leaping backwards and almost falling into Mira. The bush was quivering, coming awake. The vines around the nearby trees began to snake. The rustling of foliage became louder.

“Chop them down! Clear the path” Mira ordered and axes were drawn.

Roll: Face Danger, Iron – Miss => Burn Momentum – Weak Hit

I stepped back forward, the blade swung. Red ichor sprayed from severed vines, but there were so many of them and their reach was so far. I could hear yelling from behind, the vines had been lying in wait and we were now surrounded. Then I saw it, as the severed vines retreated towards the bush, an opening in the branches revealed something within. A clearing, small bones littered around a large orb of some sort. A bulb? A verdant crimson bulb the size of a dog? The blade pulled me forward. I could hear the others behind me desperately shouting and chopping and fending off the vines. And the rustling, everywhere, I could hear that and I will never not be able to recall that horrible din. I steeled myself, roared, and advanced, leaving the relative safety of my companions behind. 

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Strong Hit

The blade struck swiftly but still I could feel the vines closing around me. I pushed on through the opening in the branches. I reached the clearing within the bush, I felt the bones crunch underfoot. The light faded as the gap closed behind me, rustling, encircling. I lunged.

Roll: Conclude the Challenge – Strong Hit

The heart was too constricted, the clearing collapsing as the vines encircled and tightened. I could not swing, so I leveled the blade and charged. I pierced the bulb, crimson ichor sprayed from the wound, covering me. The blade screamed in joy, the ichor was blood. Then the din of rustling ceased with a resounding thud, the sound of one thousand vines falling to the forest floor.

My comrades retrieved me from the heart and the bulb. Perella was first to offer a hand to rise from the bloody pool of bones (of course it sounds horrific and not romantic in the slightest when I tell the tale but I will always remember her hand…and her smile).

Gods be, no one was wounded more than a thorn scratch or a bruise. Mira asked “Can you continue? Do you insist on continuing?”

I was out of breath but nodded.

“These bones are all rodents, maybe birds. The foragers did not fall to this.”, Perella reported. “I’ve only heard of things like this growing in the Deep Wilds. Never this close to the coast. If the Wilds have encroached this far, we should be wary that other dangers followed.”

The crew made furtive unnerved glances towards each other but no one volunteered abandoning the search. Their faith and its tenets had endured this challenge.

We gathered ourselves, I wiped what of the bulb’s blood I could off of myself, and we continued, even more cautiously and methodically, chopping any vines we passed.

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits – Weak Hit, mark progress

And the woods grew thicker and darker. The vines seemed to recede, though similar bushes could be seen in the distance off of the path. But we could all hear movement surrounding us, even above. The forest was alive but we could not tell with what. Perella shouldered her spear and drew her bow.

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits – Strong Hit; Find an Opportunity – an aspect of this place is revealed

Then a rustling off the path to our right, Perella swung her bow. There was a man, tattered and bleeding, poorly attempting to hide behind a tree. A tree too narrow to conceal him from the entire winding column at once. Seeing the bow, he froze, eyes wide. Perella did not fire. The man sighed and slowly raised his arms, “Gods be, you aren’t Broken.”

“Have you ever seen a broken?” smirked Perella.

He paused, “…No. But they would surely have not held their arrow.”. He reached his arms outwards, towards us, in a symbol of pleading. He was desperate. He was Gethin the Carpenter, one of the two who had left the walls to scout for the missing foragers that morning.

Gethin eventually explained that he and Yorath had also come across the wagon that morning, with no person or ox to be found. While they were trying to make sense of it, they were attacked. Bladed shadows fell on them from the sky. They got Yorath. Gethin fled and lost the path.

On hearing this, Perella gazed upwards, to the dense canopy of branches.

Gerith told how he had been attempting to find the path to go warn his kin, skulking and hiding, when he saw us at a distance. He had been trying to figure out whether we were safe to approach. A wise move on account of the recent attack on Brokefall and the possibility that the raiders may still be lurking or might have come ashore.

“Oh…”  Perella sighed with worried revelation. “Do you see it?”

In the shadows, it was hard to see anything. I was looking for movement but there was none. Then I spotted it. A strand. The flicker of reflected light. Web. And then I saw more of it, it was everywhere. It was dark and hard to make out but once I learned it was there and what it looked like, I realized the entire canopy above us was covered with thick fibers, massive webbing connecting trees and branches.

“Harrows!”, Mira gasped.

Shocked silence and whispers of concern reverberated down the column of sailors. I had never seen a harrow spider before but everyone knew they were as big as a dog and ate travelers in the wilds. Not a thing a sailor had likely faced prior or knew how to fight or escape.

Roll: Compel, Heart, Storyweaver –  Weak Hit

I spoke loudly. I told them a Pemba story. (*lol, I actually rolled the same name again on the oracle*) About when he gathered and marched with the fishers and sailors of frozen Highbridge to hunt the large Rhaskar that had slain their kin and threatened their home.

I could tell they heard. They steeled themselves, they were reminded of their commitment. But I could also tell that if we failed or any of them were lost or injured, I might be resented for the loss. It did not matter. We had made oath to save or destroy and we were upholden to save or destroy.

We continued down the path, into the dark, where webs blocked the sun. Gethin, afraid to return to the walls alone, reluctantly followed.

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits – Weak Hit, mark progress; Find an Opportunity – get drop on denizen

Perella saw it first. We, I, had almost walked under it. Above us. Waiting and watching, clinging to the upper trunk.

After a moment’s hesitation, she fired an arrow. It pierced one of its bristly legs? It lost its hold and fell to the ground, landing with a thud and scurrying on seven good legs, away towards the nearest tree. It knew it was outnumbered. It was trying to escape. I would not allow it.

Roll: Enter the Fray, Heart – Strong Hit; Strike – Strong Hit; End the fight – Strong Hit

The blade swung down and cleaved it’s bulbous abdomen from its body. It hissed and thrashed, it’s long legs eventually curling and stilling.

I glanced back and nodded to Perella. The crew seemed shocked but heartened. The harrows could be slain, just like anything else, with a swung blade.

We continued. Now we knew what they looked like while they were hiding. And so we noticed more of them. At a distance, far off the path. All watching, all clinging, all waiting. We pushed on. The stories spoke of nests where the food was brought. For some reason pressing on deeper into the wood to find such a place felt wiser than leaving the path to chase or stalk them.

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits – Miss

And then we heard it. A rustling and cracking of branches approaching, above, in the canopy. We could see the shadows of the treetops to our right shift and sway as the snapping grew closer. Something large was coming. So large that the branches could barely support the weight moving along the webs. Then the watchers began to move, to approach the path from both sides of the wood. Towards us.

We instinctively stepped backwards and huddled, facing outward. Then Mira shouted “Two lines, back to back” and we reformed the column, this time facing away from the path with our backs to each other.

Roll: Enter the Fray, Heart – Miss

I faced the right woods at the forward edge of the line, Perella beside me, ready for what was coming. The snapping continued and then it stopped, almost above us. I stared up into the shadows. I heard yelling from down the column and realized the watchers, the small ones, must be getting close. Perella raised her bow, scanning the shadows above. Then the branches snapped and it was falling towards me. An abdomen the size of an ox, legs longer than I was tall, the brood mother. Her hungry aware eyes, her fangs as long as my blade.

Roll: Face Danger, Edge –  Strong Hit, Opportunity

So I dove, I felt it land with a crash behind me, one long leg slammed into the ground, inches from my head. I rolled and looked up to see the brood mother rotate to face me. Above me, her fangs extended wide, dripping with acrid, sulfurous, saliva. Venom! Then an arrow grazed off her abdomen and she lept upwards and twisted in the air to face Perella, unthinkably agile for such a huge beast. As she landed, another leg, as thick as my thigh, slammed into the foliage near my head. Perella dropped her bow and readied her spear. 

I squeezed my hand, the hilt was still there, I had been able to keep my grip on the blade. I stabbed upward into her abdomen, I had little leverage but the blade was sharp and it demanded I strike.

Roll: Strike – Weak Hit

It pierced her abdomen easily, if not deeply. She hissed, a terrifying expulsion of enraged air. She leapt again and landed a dozen feet off of the path, facing us. I could hear the sounds of battle on the lines behind me. I stood and gripped the blade with two hands, I could see the tip of Perella’s spear to my right.

The brood mother reared on her back legs and hissed louder, a high pitched scream. She was even larger than I had realized up close, her front legs smashing the bottom branches of the canopy as she raged.

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Weak Hit; Endure Stress – Weak Hit

I roared back, but I could not hear myself, nor do I think she could hear me. The forest was a squeal of air and splintering branches.

Then she slammed back down.

Roll: Face Danger, Iron – Miss; Endure harm – Weak Hit

She slammed back down and I did not move fast enough. One of the legs hit my chest and threw me, as if I had been kicked by a horse. I lay on my back, trying to breathe. I still gripped the blade though. As I finally rose to a knee and regained my vision, I saw Perella trying to fend her off with a spear, she was so small in comparison. I needed to move. I needed to help her. I needed to forget about how hard it kicked and just stand up.

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Strong Hit

I managed to stand. I managed to roar, though weak and hoarse and bloody. I staggered. I screamed again. She did not hear me. I swung the blade at her leg, grazing off the hard bristly carapace. She shifted, two of her wary but hungry eyes stared into mine. I screamed again, blade dragging behind me. I could feel the blood dripping from my lips. She heard me this time.

Roll: Strike – Miss => Burn Momentum – Strong Hit, Swordmaster +2 harm

She reared back and twisted to slam her front legs back down on me, to pin me to the ground, to pierce me, to quiet me. As the legs fell, gripping the hilt with both hands, I spun the blade in a wide twisting upward swing, shearing off half of the leg that was about to strike me. And then, as I felt the thud of her other legs crashing to the ground around me and the acrid hiss to my back, I spun again and swung the blade back down, cleaving off another.

Roll: Strike – Strong Hit; End the Fight – Strong Hit, Opportunity – opportunity is that the sailors have not been overrun by the watchers

She backpedaled, trying to get away from the now black-stained blade. I pressed on. I took another leg, then another. As her legs became too few to gracefully carry her massive abdomen, she began crawling, her remaining back legs desperately dragging her heavy body backwards. Away from the blade…but she could no longer outrun it. It would drink. Whether human blood or harrow, it would drink. Her eyes were no longer hungry, they were somehow wider, darker, fearful.

I swung down with an overhead and lopped off one of her two massive fangs and then I swung again, down into her closest eye, the one that was the most fearful, slicing through her head. She hissed, but it was weaker now. She thrashed, but had fewer legs left to do so. She perished like her offspring. When she curled and stilled, I found I was still screaming, though there was no voice left to come out. Just blood to cough.

Perella was at my side. I smiled at her, a bloody stupid grin. She laughed, slapped my shoulder, and turned back to the battle behind us. The lines had held but the watchers were probing, descending from the canopy, still hungry. So hungry that their mother’s death left them unfazed. With a cheer, Perella charged with her spear. Those with enough breathing room to have seen the mother’s fall were heartened and threw themselves back into the fray. I stumbled behind, my body exhausted but the blade still willing.

Roll: Battle, Heart – Strong Hit

It was an exhausted blur, but the smaller harrows were repelled, many slain or wounded, and the rest retreated back to the canopy to wait and watch, or hunt their wounded as Mira later claimed to have witnessed. Many of the sailors had minor wounds, their arms or shoulders numb where they had been pierced by fangs (the numbness eventually faded). But Eos and Namba had perished. I hadn’t known or spoken to either but I owned their sacrifice, I acknowledged their glory and my role in their fall.

Their comrades buried them there, in shallow soil. Maybe they could be retrieved later but if not, they deserved this small honor. As Mira spoke words of the faithful, I washed the blood out of my mouth, and gulped water in an attempt to regain my voice. I tried to recover my breath but my chest would hurt for a while, pinching when I filled my lungs. My ankle was burning again but I could ignore it, I hoped. 

Roll: Heal – Strong Hit

Roll: Delve the Depths – Strong Hit, Find an Opportunity; Delve the Depths – Miss, denizen roll meant more bloodthorne (since we knew how to deal with it and it was getting late, I let the previous opportunity abstract and resolve it)

Roll: Delve the Depths – Strong Hit, find an opportunity; Locate Your Objective – Strong Hit; Escape the Depths, Heart – Weak Hit; Endure Stress – Weak Hit

With our dead buried, we pushed on, continuing down the path in the general direction the brood mother had arrived from. Deeper into the dark. I don’t like to remember what we found, though I’ll never forget it. We did find the harrow nest…and the foraging party…and oxen…and Yorath. The harrow does indeed bring prey back to its nest to feed. And its venom not only numbs, but dissolves. Encased in webbing, terror on their still faces, bodies without bones or firmness, just fluid filled bags of skin. Mira was the only one present who did not grow visibly ill as we cut them down (out of resolve, not callousness). We provided the dead with what honors we could, a shallow burial and uncomfortable prayers. Then torches were lit and lifted to the eggs and the webs. I’ll also never forget the wave of flames expanding outward from the nest, engulfing and consuming the forest canopy. Web burning brightly but too quickly to set the damp branches alight. A less troubling memory. The wood was less dark after that.

We left the vale the way we had come, retrieving Eos and Namba on the way. We returned to Brokefall and Nazmi was informed of his people’s fate and the great danger that was found in the wood. They were saddened and there would be mourning, but it seemed like most had already accepted this loss before our return.

Roll: Fullfill Your Vow – Strong Hit; Forge a Bond, Storyweaver, Brokefall – Weak Hit => Reroll from vow – Strong Hit; Forge a Bond, Mira – Miss; Forge a bond, Perella – Strong Hit, Opportunity; Sojourn – Strong Hit, Focus – Strong Hit

Brokefall provided us with all they could, filling our hold space, but still leaving them with enough stores to stay within the walls until it was clear that the raiders had grown bored and left for easier prey. I tried to speak with Mira about the upcoming voyage and what actually waited for us at the Desolate Beacon but she was preoccupied and distant. I feared she was resentful with me for the loss of her people. It would have been fair if she was, but I did not regret taking action and would not have forsaken the vow had a dozen of her crew fallen.

We stayed the night in Brokefall. Around a fire of militia and curious fisherfolk, I told the story of our incursion into the infested vale and the horrors and terrors we encountered…and overcame. Some of the militia boasted that, once it was clear the raiders had left, they would send hunting parties outside of the walls to root out any surviving harrows.

As Gethin followed with his own harrowing tale of survival, alone and lost in the dark wood, Perella took my hand. Sitting by the fire listening to a very lucky man tell a very lucky tale, she held my hand. And I felt very lucky as well.