Looking back, this was the session where the campaign finally started to catch its stride a bit. When characters began to stick around, relationships started to matter, and the world began to grow beyond the limits of Hob’s vision. When the currents began to grow stronger. Currents that, if Hob wasn’t careful, might wind up carrying her to shores she may not wish to visit.

How we got here…Hob, a brave yet untested young woman, left Sota’s Gate to seek answers about the blood-stained blade. In Stoneharbor, she assisted Elstan of Whitbarrow in avenging his kin and crew after they had been ambushed by a group of raiders led by a mystic who could bend both the tides and winds to his will. Following this, Hob joined up with Mira and the crew of the Piercing Swan, a group of Sustainers (Iron Priests) on a divine expedition to the Desolate Beacon before ultimately making their way home to Autumnrush, a large port that Hob hoped might contain the answers she sought. Near Brokefall, an harbor under siege by both raiders and the encroaching wilds, Hob and the Sustainers faced a harrow brood, slaying their brood mother and destroying the nest. During the delve, Hob developed a bit of a crush on Perella, a brash and confident Sustainer, and upon their return to Brokefall, she got to hold her hand.

---

“So, you worship the Pillars then?”

“No, no.” Perella patiently explained, gazing at the sun reflecting off the gray cliffs of the unnamed island in the distance. “The Pillars are places of power but they are no gods.”

“So then, do you worship the old gods or the new?”

“Neither. The old gods are dead, abandoned on the shores of the Old World to be trampled and forgotten by the Skulde’s. The new gods are not yet known…or knowable.”

“Then who do you worship?”

“Worship? None. But we do pray. We embrace the Ironlands and pray that, in doing so, she embraces us in return…lest we share the same fate as those that came before. Our arrival changed everything, not just for us but for these lands as well. Even the gods of the Firstborn shift, perishing and birthing. It is a new age, and one that is yet too young to know who will rise and who will reign.”

I was still struggling to wrap my mind around the Sustainers. I had been raised with the Old Gods, as were most along the Barrier Islands and Ragged Coast. We were nourished on tales of Morien, Pella, and Kendi Te’s paired rings, and so we retained the faiths of the first-landed, those that had founded our circles. Beyond the Old Gods, I had been told of the New Gods of the Havens. I had even heard stories about the strange gods of Iron, of the Iron Priests that worshipped the Pillars. But learning that the Iron Priests were not a unified faith, but a catch-all name for dozens of diverse and rival factions that had radically departed from the traditional faiths of the Old World, was difficult to grasp. I still didn’t truly get it, but sharing a bench with Perella and watching the sun and waves was pleasant. I didn’t want to spoil it with more confused questions, so I switched topics.

“So what exactly are we seeking? What waits for us at the Beacon?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t know if Mira even knows exactly. Something of power though. The Beacon is one of the two known Pillars in the isles. Whatever it is we seek was not at Wyvern’s Rest, so it must be at the Beacon. We shall learn soon enough.”

I knew of Wyvern’s Rest, a Pillar at the northernmost tip of the Barrier. But it didn’t really answer my questions about what we sought or why me, “an extra blade”, was anticipated to be of use. I restrained myself from further inquiries though and watched the cliffs, smiling.

Roll: Undertake a Journey – Strong Hit

We had left Brokefall’s harbor at first light and, after pausing once we were far enough from shore to say words and commit Eos and Namba to the sea, we had made good time towards the Barrier. Though I had not known the two sailors who fell to the harrow brood, I participated in and witnessed the words to honor their loss. 

The Ragged Coast was still visible but Brokefall’s harbor had long since passed from sight. I fidgeted with my new shield, a gift from lucky Gethin before we sailed, and reflected on the morning. The shield seemed sturdy, though plain. I turned it over, the band felt secure. I had not brought a shield with me when I left the Gate. Bastien had even offered his spare, the one he  used to lend me for sparring, but I had declined, I didn’t think I would need it. I’d regretted that choice since that first day I left, the ambush at Stoneharbor, having to meet archers head on with no board to protect me. So I was grateful for the gift. Gethin told good stories and gave good gifts and I was glad that we had found the carpenter in the infested vale. Glad we had been able to return him home. Satisfied with my inspection, I returned the shield to its rack and turned back to Perella.

Advance: Purchase Asset – Shield-Bearer (+1 Face Danger and +1M on Clash SH)

Since we had taken back to the sea, I had learned some of her secrets. She hailed from Three Rivers, a circle in the Hinterlands, the forested hilly frontiers to the north of the Havens. She had left to the south because of some troubles, I yet knew not what, and eventually made it to Autumnrush before volunteering for the expedition. She was a faithful Sustainer, though I was still hazy on what that meant, and she didn’t like eggs.

In return, I told her of Sota’s Gate, the lighthouse and fort, Uncle Temir and Cousin Bastien. I explained I had left for Autumnrush in search of answers. But before I could tell her of the blade, and how I found it, and what it demanded of me, things I wasn’t sure how to best word without sounding silly, we had been interrupted by a surfacing whale. A rolling and auspicious sign that distracted us from the topic long enough that it faded and was replaced with new conversation. The subject would eventually resurface though. Her curious glances towards the blade meant that she would someday put voice to questions, and I would need to find words for answers.

Roll: Undertake a Journey – Weak Hit; Reach Your Destination – Strong Hit, +1 to next move

Mark Progress: Expedition Vow – Reach the Desolate Beacon

By mid-day we reached the isles. By evening we caught sight of the Beacon, a massive column in the far distance, so tall that it towered above the closer islands, it’s dull gray metal occasionally blinding us with the sun’s reflection. I had never seen one of the Pillars before, I stared until the reflecting light became too much. 

By dusk we’d passed the inner Barrier and could see the island itself, a tall plateau surrounded by white cliffs. The last isle before the wide sea, not navigated since our ancestors had fled here from the Old World. The Beacon rose from the plateau above, an enigmatic lantern to guide the stragglers or maybe a warding tower to repel any threats that attempted to follow? We would need to find a way to climb those cliffs to reach it. As the clouds returned and swallowed what remained of the setting sun, we steered for a small rocky cove, nestled below the cliffs.

Night had fallen by the time we reached the cove. There was a consensus that it was too dangerous to attempt to shore and set up camp under the moonless sky. I’m not sure how much the air of electricity influenced this decision, the hairs standing on end the closer we got to the island. So we laid anchor in the cove, unpacked the furs and blankets, and tried to sleep. I drifted off, my head resting on Perella’s shoulder. She was warm, things felt less dark, the electricity became soothing. It was nice.

Roll: Make a Camp – Strong Hit; Gather Information – Weak Hit

At dawn, the shadows left. The clouds remained, dark and heavy, but the cove and cliffs had become visible. We could now see that the arms of the cove converged to a rocky beach, large enough to safely shore the Swan. The skeletal hull of a ravaged fishing boat already lay on the beach, ancient and consumed by nature. Behind the beach, the cliff face indented and softened, creating a less steep path that might possibly be hiked to reach the plateau above. We also discovered the wildlife, shroud crabs.

A shroud could be seen scuttling across the rocks on the far horn of the cove. And if there was one, there would be more, hiding amongst the rocks, in wait for unsuspecting or careless prey. But, unlike the harrows, shroud crabs were a danger sailors knew. They knew how to spot them, what steps to take to mitigate risks, and, if needed, how to fend them off. The crew quickly began to devise plans to shore the ship and ensure a safe parameter by moving out from the landing in a circle while probing any suspicious rocks with spears.

Roll: Face Danger, Wits – Strong Hit

So we oared to the beach and they enacted those plans, professionally and efficiently. Soon the Swan was shored and a large enough section of the beach had been combed to allow the full crew to deboard and begin establishing a light camp. The remains of the fishing boat were searched, now just rotten wood.

As supplies were unloaded and the camp established, Mira asked for volunteers to scout the possible path up the cliff. Perella and I were first to volunteer. The path was hikeable for the most part, only requiring a light climb in a few spots. Enough of a climb that the expedition would be limited to whatever gear we could carry in our belts or packs but at least the way seemed clear of shrouds.

The top of the path revealed a massive plateau, uniformly flat. No hills or slopes. Just flat. Unnaturally flat. It felt as if we were on the top of the world. On the far side of the plateau rose the Beacon. Staring up at it from hard ground, I appreciated just how tall the Pillar was…and just how smooth, obvious from the distance even with the dark clouds blocking the sun’s reflecting light.

We signaled back down to the camp and watched the Pillar in awe while we waited for Mira and two sailors, who I now knew to be Kaivana and Keyshia, to ascend and join us. The crew had shunned me less since I had fought alongside them in the infested vale and began spending time with Perella. They no longer seemed to consider me an outsider and had started to treat me more like a stranger, if that distinction makes any sense. Most still did not speak with me, but at least they had stopped avoiding me and I had been able to start learning some more of their names in the process.

Once they had joined us, we marched across the rocky plateau to the Beacon. It took nearing the Pillar for me to grasp just how wide it was. Wider than me with outstretched arms. Wider than both Perella and I, side by side, with outstretched arms. As we approached, we realized the Beacon was out of reach. It was surrounded by a pit. A moat? A deep circular hole going straight down into the earth with a towering uniform grey metallic column rising from its center, so smooth that it must have been melted and then cooled in that position. Both inhuman and unnatural. 

The Pillars predated the first landings and many said that they must be as old as the Ironlands themselves. But I had never seen a Pillar before, so I had no speculations on its origins or purpose. I just had wonder, fearful wonder.

Standing at the edge of the pit, looking down, we saw only shadows. Maybe by mid-day, if the clouds broke, we could make out what lay below, but the dull overcast morning meant only shadows. Then we noticed the shadows within shadows. There were cave mouths along the wall of the pit, below us and barely visible.

We waited in electric silence while Keyshia returned to the Swan with a list of needed supplies and a request for more volunteers for the delve. Once they had returned, a torch was lit and dropped down the pit to gauge its depth. It fell and fell and fell and then extinguished, possibly having plunged all the way back down to the sea.

Roll: Discover a Site – Desolate Beacon, Dangerous; Delve the Depths – Strong Hit, opportunity – secure

Mark Progress: Expedition Vow – Delve below the Beacon

A rope was secured and we descended to the cavern just below us. Perella went first, gracefully climbing down and pulling herself into the entrance. She called for me to follow and I did so. Unpacking and lighting the torches revealed a large rocky cavern. Its floor, easy to walk and free from boulders or debris. Its walls, though not perfectly flat and smooth like the Beacon, seemed almost carved, gentle grooves and soft edges descending downward, gradually narrowing as they did so.

Mira descended next. Then Kaivana. Then a sailor I didn’t yet know since he benched to the rear of the Swan, opposite Perella and I. We gathered ourselves and pressed on. I could tell Mira was excited, there was an energy about her, almost a smile. She clearly wanted to lead but acknowledged that Perella’s keen eyes and keen hearing should take the front. I followed Perella and Mira stepped in behind me.

Roll: Delve the Depths – Weak Hit; Reveal a Danger – Denizen Lair, Gloom

Roll: Anomaly Challenge; Face Danger, Wits – Weak Hit

As the cavern walls closed in and narrowed, the torchlight grew. And so did the shadows. We pushed onward, alert and ready. The torches dimmed as we descended further from the mouth and the pit. The path constricted tighter, though not so much that we needed to twist or duck to proceed. We continued. The walls cramped. The cavern grew darker. 

Then, in a moment of panicked clarity, I wondered why it was growing darker. The air still felt clear, it had not become stagnant or stale. The flames were just as large as before, just less bright. There was no reason for the growing darkness. If anything, the closer walls should have reflected even more light. I could hardly see Perella and her torch, now just a soft hazy glow ahead of me. My own torch just barely reached the walls and floor directly around and below me, creating more shadows than light. It was getting darker, the gloom was taking us. I tried to call out to the others, but my voice caught in my throat. This was unnatural, what if the light fully extinguished?

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

Maybe they hadn’t noticed, I needed to warn them, I swallowed and forced the words out.

“The shadows, they’re growing! We need to go back!”

No response, I could no longer see Perella in front of me, just the waning cold light of my own torch. I looked behind, I couldn’t see Mira either, just shadows.

“Perella?”, I weakly called.

No response.

I was cold, I could no longer feel the warmth of the flame kissing my arm. The torch was now just a blurry vague glow, too weak to even illuminate the hand that held it.

I would be in the dark soon, fully consumed by the shadows. In the dark and alone.

I forced those thoughts aside. “Perella?”, this time louder.

Still no response.

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Strong Hit

And then the darkness took me.

“Perella!?”, this time a yell that echoed forward and behind me.

The reflections faded to silence. I was alone.

And then, ahead of me, the rumble of shifting and tumbling rocks and a prolonged reverberating scream. A cave in? No, a fall!?

“Perella!” I rushed forward, pushing my torch in front of me as if it could still light the way.

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Miss, complication; Endure Harm – Strong Hit

And then I tripped. On what, I do not know. I toppled forward, the weight of my pack and the shield fastened to it pushing me down, face first, slamming me into the floor. I hit the ground hard and tumbled, the roll stopping with me on my back.

My chest, where the brood mother had kicked me, was roaring. I couldn’t draw a breath. I could only cough, a painful fit of wheezing that took too long to subside.

I caught my breath. My head hurt. My hands were raw. I could see nothing. I could only hear my own labored panting. My pack lay under me, its contents jabbing into my back. I had lost the torch in the fall.

With a weak groan, I rolled to my hands and knees and tried to rise. I could no longer tell which way I faced, having lost direction in the dark tumble.

Then, in the distance, weak sobbing.

I probed forward with my raw hands, slowly crawling towards the sound.

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Strong Hit

“Perella?” I found my voice.

The pained sobbing increased.

Why wasn’t she responding, were her injuries that severe?

I pushed to my feet and slowly raised myself, not trusting my balance. I cautiously extended one foot forward, probing for obstacles before committing my weight. Then the other.

“Perella!”, my voice echoed. I shuffled and dragged forward.

Roll: Face Danger, Wits – Strong Hit

The sobbing became an emotional whimpering cry. I continued, now leaning forward to probe with my hands.

I was almost there, the cries were so close.

“Perella!” I was now sobbing.

The crying grew to a moaning wail. It spread and echoed, reverberated. Consuming all of my senses. A pained keen, from all directions. And then silence. Nothing but my weak sobs and short panicked breaths.

“Perella!” I lunged forward. I found nothing, just rocks and dust and stone. I felt the ground, rapidly dragging my raw hands across it as I moved. I found the cave wall to my right and then continued my probing and examining back to my left until I reached that wall as well.

“Perella?”

Nothing.

I continued my search. I found nothing but rocks.

I feared that the wounds had taken her consciousness and I would pass by her, unnoticed, abandoning her to the shadows. But I could find nothing. No Perella, no person. No large stones or collapse that could have crushed her, no chasm or pit that she could have fallen into. Just stones and walls.

So I clung to the hope that my hearing was just as suspect as my sight. That it wasn’t just the light that was twisted and wrong but that my ears were untrustworthy as well. Eventually, I found the cave wall again with my right hand and pressed on, using it to guide me forward.

Roll: Face Danger, Wits – Miss; Pay the Price – person I care about is exposed to danger; Conclude Challenge – Strong Hit

Roll: Delve the Depths – Weak Hit; Reveal a Danger – denizen reveres ancient power – Nightspawn (Stone Collector)

The darkness remained. The cave descended, the wall became smoother, the ground became less rocky, more dusty, less precarious. 

After I know not how long, the cold began to subside. The light wet breeze remained but the hollow chill seemed to lessen. And then I saw it, a weak warm glow in the distance. I continued. The vague glowing grew. I shuffled faster. The flicker of flame, blurred but unmistakable. I quit using the wall for guidance and broke into a wary jog. The flame grew brighter, and warmer. I could now make out the floor and walls of the cave. No, the tunnel. It had changed. It had widened since my desperate search for the sobbing, the flickering light from the flame was casting blurred reflections along the walls. Walls that were not just carved but polished? 

I could hear struggle. Undefined shadows twisting and straining near the flame. I began to run. Then the light returned fully and the flame came into focus. A torch on the ground, still burning brightly, and over it stood Perella! Perella and something else. A twisting dark mass struggling to restrain her, it’s long arms gripping the walls for balance. No, not arms. Tendrils. A shifting mass, suspended in the tunnel by multiple tendrils that were anchored into the walls and ceiling. Perella was straining against it, its form coiling around her arms and torso, shards and chunks of stone and quartz briefly visible as they surfaced and then dove back beneath the undulating skin. Then teeth formed, a gaping maw of jagged stone, rows of shards, widening above her shoulders.

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

“You Will Not!” I uttered. I dropped my bag as the blade shot to my hand. I reached down to unfasten Gethin’s shield from the pack, having previously secured it there for the rope descent to the cavern. It was not there. It must have come unfastened during my fall. It was now lost to the shadows.

I shifted the blade to both hands and leveled it.

“You! Will! Not!” I charged forward, driving the blade over Perella’s shoulders and into the gaping maw. I do not know if I hurt the mass. No ichor sprayed, the blade sighed in disappointment. It did retreat though, retracting the tendrils that had been entwined around Perella back into its pulsing mass. Then, from the rear of the mass, two new tendrils launched back, affixing to the wall further down the tunnel and pulling it away. Perella scrambled back up the tunnel to her torch, behind me, as I stepped forward.

Roll: Clash – Miss => Burn Momentum – Strong Hit, Swordmaster – +2 harm, +1 move

Roll: Strike – Weak Hit

Then the mass retaliated. It launched a tendril forward, over me, to affix to the ceiling behind me and use to pull itself forward, launching towards my head. I did not retreat. The tunnel was wide enough to swing the blade so I brought it up in a wide circle, almost a parry. I did not sever the tendril, I could see sparks as the blade struck one of the undulating stones that had bobbed to the skin’s surface. But the force of the blow knocked the tendril free from the ceiling and, by losing its anchor, the advancing mass was knocked off course.

It came at me low and to the left. I reversed the blade and slashed down hard. The swing was partially deflected by a chunk of undulating quartz, stopping most of the blade’s force before it slid off the side of the stone and shallowly cut into the mass.

I shifted my grip and pushed down with all my strength, sawing at the shallow wound.

Roll: Face Danger, Iron – Weak Hit; Endure Harm – Weak Hit

The blade cut deeper. I continued to push and saw as I felt a tendril snake around my arm and shoulder. It began to constrict, it was trying to pin my sword arm. Small shards of quartz and stone were tearing into my back and shoulder. My lungs struggled to fill. I continued to push the blade deeper.

Then Perella was beside me, wielding her torch. With a yell, she slammed the torch against one of the tendrils that anchored the mass to the ceiling. As the flame kissed it, a cloud of black steam erupted and the tendril retreated back into the mass. She swung again at another, anchored to the wall. More black steam and it retreated as well. The loss of these two tendrils coupled with the downward force as I pushed my blade deeper into the mass was too much for the remaining anchors. They could no longer suspend the mass, it fell to the ground and the blade with it. I followed to my knees, still pushing and sawing.

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

Roll: Turn the Tide; Strike – Strong Hit; End the Fight – Strong Hit

Mark Progress: Expedition Vow – Defeat Beacon guardian

The entwining tendril tightened. My ribs were about to snap. I lost my strong hand’s grip on the blade as my sword arm was pinned to my body. I could no longer draw a breath. My weak hand, still gripping the hilt, feebly continued to try to cut through the mass.

“Hold on!” Perella yelled as she swung her torch, attempting to clear space to strike down on the mass and the base of the tendril that was crushing me.

The side of the mass, to the right of the cutting blade, was shifting. Rows of shards, the gaping maw, expanding towards my pinned arm. 

With a desperate grunt and the last of my breath, I raised my leg from its knee and slammed my boot down onto the top of the blade with all of my remaining strength. Pivoting to push my full weight into it, downward, through the mass.

An eruption of black steam and the blade reached the ground, finally cleaving the mass in half. The tendril that had been crushing my chest fell away and I took a deep breath. A mistake. The black steam was scalding and acrid. It burned my throat and lungs and I doubled over in another coughing fit, isolated from all but the convulsing pain. As the steam cleared and the fit subsided, I came back to the world. Perella was holding me, cradling my head on her knees while I meekly whimpered. Then I cried, weakly clinging to her knees as I sobbed from the pain. My whole body ached, the painful aftereffects of the steam coursing through my limbs, finishing as a dull throbbing in my fingers and toes.

Eventually it passed, I sat up, tired and raw and embarrassed. My blade lay by my knees, among a scattered pile of stone and quartz shards and chunks, all that remained of the shifting mass.

We spoke. Perella knew nothing of the sobbing in the dark. She was uninjured, had taken no fall nor wound. Her experience in the shadows had been different than mine. She had been chased, hounded by loud cold breath and the shattering of stones, missed blows that were meant for her. An unknown attacker, equally blinded by the shadows. She fled from her hunter until eventually the light returned to her torch. It did not pursue her into the light. While she was recovering, the shifting mass, whatever that was, had ambushed her. It must have been flattened against the tunnel ceiling, lying in wait, as it dropped and entangled her out of nowhere. That’s when I had arrived.

Then the unwelcome news, as the steam had cleared, as she found me coughing, she swore she had seen two small shadows pulling and rolling and dragging further down the tunnel and out of the torchlight. It had been wishful thinking to assume that cleaving something without true form would slay it and not just create two.

We waited for the others to leave the shadows behind us. Nobody came. No Mira, no Kaivana, nobody.

“Maybe they were able to turn around and return to the cave mouth?” More wishful thinking on my part.

Roll: Check Your Gear – Strong Hit

I checked my boot, where I had stepped on the blade. The sole was splitting and would likely need to be replaced but it had not cut through to my foot. I checked my pack, its contents were thankfully intact, just Gethin’s shield had been lost. That and my torch. Thankfully I had packed a second (we all had) and a small bottle of oil. Another small blessing. I removed the torch, oil, and my waterskin.

Roll: Heal – Weak Hit

I lit my spare torch and swilled my water, it soothed the burning throat. Then Perella and I took turns cleaning each other’s wounds, shallow slices and scrapes from the shards in the tendrils. As I rinsed my raw hands and tried to remove the small jagged pebbles that had embedded into my palm during the fall, Perella began stacking the stones and shards left by the mass. She lit her spare torch and pushed it down through the center of the pile, the stones securing the base and supporting the torch enough to stand upright.

She forced a hopeful smile in response to my curious looks, “In case they lost their torches as well and just haven’t reached us yet, a beacon from the shadows.”

It had not even needed to be voiced, neither of us was willing to backtrack through the darkness. So we, now just the two of us, collected ourselves and warily pressed on, hopeful to find another exit.