Hob and Perella finally leave camp and enter Autumnrush proper to gather information and ensure resupply for the Sustainers.

---

Roll: Compel, Heart – Weak Hit

“Keep your eyes on this one, Hob. She’s got a wayward soul and you never know when she might climb a hill to get a closer look at some shiny metal pillars and forget all about you, never to be seen or heard from again.” chuckled Brynn, watching Pella for a reaction.

“Well I’m visiting you now, aren’t I?” She didn’t even raise her eyes. Just continued drawing her third line, concealed behind her Praga bowl.

They were clearly old friends, though I couldn’t quite tell how old. They’d been pleasantly sniping at each other since we had found him in the Grain Market, “where he’s always at”, on the edges, where the stalls thin and the elderly and idle play games. Brynn was not elderly though, the opposite in fact, young and strong. But he did look idle, chronically idle. He had introduced himself as a free warden, one of those wandering mercenaries, but he looked more like a raider to me, equal parts rags and flashing jewelry.

When we’d found Brynn, Pella had embraced him and asked what she’d missed while she was away. He had insisted on a few draws of Praga first. I was familiar with the game but had never played. Hearing this, he had announced that he would teach me. Thankfully, Pella, my savior, had instead demanded a rematch for their last clash, when Brynn had either brilliantly outmaneuvered her or cheated to win, depending on who told the tale. So I watched.

In Sota’s Gate the old men had simply called it Clash. There were three draws to a clash, representing the front, middle, and rear lines of a warband. Hidden behind special bowls (open on one side for the player to draw through), the players marked symbols in the dirt. Each symbol representing a monster or warrior, each type of warrior cancelling and being cancelled by other types of warriors. After they had both finished choosing their warriors, they would remove their bowls and reveal their lines to each other, before moving on to their next draw, adjusting their subsequent choices to counter the opponent’s previous line. After all of the draws and the rear lines had been revealed, the warbands would be tallied. Whichever player had the most uncountered forces won. Pella and Brynn used different symbols than the old men of the Gate though. Elves, giants, and trolls in place of krakens, ships, and merrow. I’d heard of other versions too, even one that used the heroes and champions of the old stories. That one I might have liked to have learned.

“Done” announced Pella and they both revealed their final draw. They quickly mentally tallied before Pella whooped in victory and Brynn groaned in defeat. I was still trying to figure out which symbol represented what. I was pretty sure her rear line had been full giants, which maybe countered his trolls? I wasn’t certain though.

Pella did not gloat and so Brynn recovered from his loss quickly, standing and brushing the dirt from his legs. “Now then, to the gossip?”

Roll: Gather Information – Strong Hit

He knew much. He had an answer to every question and followed every question with one of his own. It felt almost like an exchange, a trade, like he was collecting information. But he was helpful. He was aware that I was a newcomer and so gave thorough answers for my benefit. I had no idea what the Sustainers would consider to be sensitive information so I let Pella answer most of his questions. She told him where the Piercing Swan had traveled to, specifically naming Wyvern’s Rest and the Desolate Beacon, and related some of the trials that we had faced. I noticed she made no mention of the caverns under the Beacon, or Kodroth, or the carvings. Brynn asked many follow up questions about Haf’s ship, its escaped sister, and the boar tattoos. Pella nodded to me that it was ok, so I answered freely (having been in the thick of that fight). For each of his questions though, we got one in return, and so I walked away from the conversation feeling like I had gained the faintest grasp of how Autumrush functioned, why it functioned, and who administered its function.

Brynn confirmed that all within Autumnrush were indeed anxiously awaiting a renewal of conflict between The Three. How that would play out? No one knew. Before the truce, underhanded maneuvers and skirmishes had not been uncommon. But it had never escalated to attempts on each other’s lives. Further, no one knew who was behind the attack on Lio the Guide, as the assassin, slain during the attempt, had been an outsider. So no one had any clue as to what might come next and everyone prepared for the worst, including The Three themselves.

Then questions moved on to The Three as individuals. Pella had known a little, but she had been on Pillar Hill for so long that she had become disconnected from the port’s politics, and thus there was still much for both of us to learn. 

Lio had been elected as Guide by the Western Reach, the loose coalition of circles along the western shores of the Ragged Coast. As Guide, he oversaw trade negotiations for the numerous Reach merchants that exchanged goods in Autumnrush (as all ships eventually made their way here). I had known there was some loose thread connecting the circles along the Reach, to the north and west of the Gate, but I had not known they were so formally aligned that they elected representatives. I also had not known that the thread that joined them was balestones. Those  stones, foraged along the interior of that region, that burned hot and slow and were in high demand in the forges and smelters to the north. Stones so valuable that the disparate settlements of the Reach had realized the necessity for a communal representative in Autumnrush, a Guide to ensure that the traders and their circles were not exploited or played against each other. As the Port did have a reputation for such things. 

As Brynn spoke, my mind wandered to Elstan. His ship had been returning from Autumnrush when they were ambushed at Stoneharbor. Had they been trading balestones? Whitbarrow was along the Reach after all. I hoped he had made it home.

Then, onto Sayer the Shipbuilder. Brynn didn’t have too much to say except Sayer’s claim to Autumnrush was old, from the arrivals. Well, not much nice to say, at least. Sayer’s family had stepped off the first ships and been building new ones ever since, while also taking their cut from everything and everyone that passed through the port. Levies negotiated by axehandle. So they’d naturally been at odds with Lio and Cera’s arrivals and their subsequent attempts to end those profitable traditions.

Then finally, to Cera of Longbridge. I noticed Pella had not asked about Cera outright, had waited until the end, when it would seem only natural to inquire about the third after asking of the other two. She had taken care not to make it obvious to Brynn that we had a particular interest in Cera. She was clever, but he was clever as well. I didn’t understand why such old friends could not be candid with each other but knew there must be a reason, so I kept my mouth shut and I listened.

Cera resided in one of the longhouses on the Overlook, along the river Bas in the northern limits of settlement. Brynn had even been able to point it out to us, large enough that it was barely visible in the distance, almost to where the hills met mountains. It is said that her father, the Clan chief of Longbridge, had sent his daughter, along with the better part of his bodyguard, to Autumnrush to protect their interests, namely the vast quantities of grain and livestock that were sent down the Bas to be shipped across the Barrier Islands and Ragged Coast. She had settled on the outskirts so that she may inspect and inventory every boat arriving from the Havens before it entered the port. Inventories that could then be compared with the goods after they were warehoused to ensure no “taxing” had occurred between her grounds and docks.

Brynn had no opinion as to who was behind the attack on Lio. Lio and Cera were natural rivals, reminded of that rivalry every time they sparred over a balestone or grain negotiation. And Sayer resented the both of them, embracing any opportunity to displace them and reclaim domination over the port. Brynn did offer that he had always assumed it would be Cera and Sayer to break the truce, their bitterness towards each other was well known. He had been surprised that Lio had been the one targeted.

Mark Progress: Resupply the Camp – Locate Cera and gather information on The Three

All parties exhausted of questions, or at least having exhausted the answers they were willing to give, Brynn embraced Pella and bid us farewell.

As we left, Pella, as if she had just remembered a minor curiosity (I honestly could not tell you if this was intentional or truly an afterthought), “Oh yeah, Brynn. Do you know where we could find Cadigan the Swordsmith’s workshop?”

“Oh where you would expect. Just west of here, Torren’s Square, with the other smiths and artisans. You might not find him there though and, to be honest, you might want to put off finding him altogether. He’s been spending time at Sayer’s lumber camp to the west. My guess is that Sayer thinks commissioning a sword fit for a clan chief might mean they get to start acting like one.”

Pella and I shared a look, this was unwelcome news but we could figure it out later.

And his question in return, the unspoken rule still applying, “Why do you seek him?”

Pella responded before I could open my mouth, “Hob wants an appraisal.” Not a lie, I guess, if not the full truth.

Brynn glanced at the blade on my belt. “Ahh, of course. Well I hope it is worth the value you seek.” and returned to the old men, no doubt looking for another opponent to clash with.

Mark Progress: Blade Vow – Find location of Cadigan the Swordsmith

I was relieved when we finally passed from earshot and could speak plainly. 

“Is that man a raider?”

She grinned, “No, well not presently at least.”

“So he’s actually a free warden?”

“He’s an old friend and is indeed a free warden, or was once. Why he spends all his time playing Praga with the old men these days instead of plying his trade is anyone’s guess? Feels like the seas and roads are just as dangerous as they’ve always been, there are just as many in need of escort.”

“Is he a spy?” I knew they existed in the stories but those spies were all members of some clan chief’s council or some warchief’s bodyguard, not untasked wardens playing dusty games with dusty old men.

She chuckled and shrugged, “Maybe?”

Then, I’m not sure why I chose that moment to ask but I wanted to know and I wanted to know if she knew. “Pella, did Mira or Teegan tell you about the journal? How Mira, we, were actually seeking Kodroth the Bitter?”

“Ahhh, yes. They did after we returned. I’m glad they told you.”

I knew it couldn’t have been the case but it was still a relief to hear confirmation that she hadn’t lied to me back on the Swan, when I had asked what awaited us at the Beacon and she responded that she did not know.

I continued, “Does it bother you that they didn’t tell you what we were searching for until after we’d already found it?”

“Of course it does, no one likes being left in the dark. But to be honest, I think they were afraid to let on that they didn’t actually know what they were doing. Now, they act like it was the plan all along but I don’t think they really had any clue where Kodroth had ended up or what we might find. It was an act of desperation that bore fruit. Neither of them would likely admit how little they knew, how little control of the situation they have, but searching for the unknown is always preferable to staying home and waiting for rivals to find it instead, right? So yeah, it bothers me, but I make do and look to what comes next.”

I could not stop myself and I regretted the words as I spoke them. 

“But why didn’t you tell me when you found out? Were you ordered not to?”

“I…I’m sorry,” she looked away, eyes slowly lowered, “it was not my choice to make.”

Roll: Endure Stress (young love is enduring stress after a strong hit) – Miss, -1 momentum

I knew I  should not have asked, there was no answer to that question that would not have caused pain. It was foolish and selfish to do so. She was a Sustainer and I was not. She had codes I did not understand and loyalties that superseded those with outsiders, friends or not.

We walked on in silence until we reached the river and the road leading up into the Overlook.

“I’ll wait here for you?” Pella cautiously offered.

I almost told her no, that I would prefer to meet her back at the camp, before I realized that I wasn’t confident I could find my way back, through the market and maze of tight streets, without getting lost.

“Thanks. ”An awkward forced smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

She gave a weak smile in return, finally raising her penitent eyes to mine. And then I left, up the hill to the Overlook to find Cera of Longbridge and then… well after I found her, I wasn’t actually sure what I planned to do or say.

---

The longhouses grew larger the higher I climbed. The Overlook was where the old families resided, those who had settled during first landing and thrived with Autumnrush over the generations since. I passed a half dozen of these houses, each taller than the last, before I reached my destination, the largest of all, Cera of Longbridge’s. It was more than just a longhouse and grounds, it was almost a circle in itself, with additional smaller buildings and huts, it’s own dock along the river Bas, and grounds large enough to field a warband. Even ignoring its size, the longhouse stood out from those of Autumnrush’s elder kin. It wielded the prosperity of the Havens. Its form and corners were harder, less rounded and flowing. It was excessively ornate, the exaggerated ridge piece and corner frames carved and painted along the entire height and length of the structure. I spotted a large carven azure wolf and a chiseled vermillion wyvern before I even reached the grounds. Also, unlike the other longhouses I’d passed, this one had a bodyguard. 

A man with hard eyes and a proud looking woman.

“Hold! Name and purpose?”

“Basira, ‘Hob’ of Sota’s Gate.” I didn’t know whether it was safe to announce my full purpose as I specifically remembered the word “discreet” being used by Mira or Teegan when they had requested my aid. So I simply stated, “to see Cera of Longbridge.”

Roll: Compel, Heart – Miss; Pay the Price, lose momentum

The man’s hard eyes grew sharper. “An outsider here to see Cera?  Verena, wasn’t the man who attacked Lio an outsider?”

The proud looking woman nodded, “Aye, that’s what I heard.”

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Weak Hit, lose momentum

“You think I’m an assassin? Coming through the front door with the sun out?” I was surprised, surprised and offended. I saw that my words had impact though. Hard eyes flinched and composure faltered. They probably no longer thought I was a potential assassin but clearly had not appreciated being mocked.

Verena seemed to puff out her chest, proud and wounded. “An outsider is still suspect, and you’ve yet to give reason to let you pass.”

Roll: Compel, Heart, Storyweaver – Strong Hit, treating closer to a Weak Hit since this is the best Hob can recover from after the Miss at the beginning of the conversation

“I’m still suspect!? Hob of the Gate!? She who slew the raiders at Stoneharbor? Who slew the brood mother of Brokefall? She who faced the shadows below the Desolate Beacon and cut down Haf the Raidcaptain? I am not suspect!”

And then I spoke honestly, I did not know if it was the right choice but I could not lie, I would not lie. I was also proud and wounded.

“I come to Cera from the front like an Ironlander to speak to her of her obligations to the Sustainer camp and you would treat me as an assassin? One who skulks and hides!?”

I don’t know if they were actually impressed by my blustering (I mean, I felt what I felt at the time but it’s a little embarrassing to look back at) or just didn’t want to risk turning me away in case I might actually be someone of import, even if they had never heard of me.

“Fine, but not without your blade. There are assassins about.” The deflated but annoyed woman reached her arms out to receive it.

I didn’t like it, the blade didn’t either, but I could think of no other way to gain audience with Cera. Or at least no other way that didn’t involve skulking and hiding, things I had just asserted that I did not do. So I handed over the blade and they took me to her.

Mark Progress: Resupply the Camp – Get past the bodyguard

Cera of Longbridge was at her dock, overseeing the inventorying of a large riverboat that had just arrived from the Havens. While she watched from the dock, workers and crew scrambled across the boat, marking and noting goods. She was young, older than me, but still young. She looked how I’d imagined the princesses from the tales of the Old World, brandishing abundance in the same manner as her longhouse.

The man with the hard eyes approached her and spoke words I could not hear. Then the two bodyguard moved to a respectful distance and Cera turned her attention towards me.

“So I hear you wish to speak for the Sustainers? Mira sent you? I can see why she did not wish to approach me herself, afraid to be seen as taking a side. But still, the fact that you come in her stead is a disappointment.”

Roll: Secure an advantage, Heart – Miss => Burn Momentum – Weak Hit

I wasn’t particularly pleased to stand in Mira’s stead either but there I was. 

“Aye, I can understand why an ally’s hesitation would be disheartening. I know Mira did not intend slight though. She fears appearing involved would draw threats that might imperil their work. Work that she said you knew the value of.”

She nodded, “I do. I hope that she realizes that the lack of provision was not out of slight either. I have not forgotten about her, I’ve just been *gesturing at everything* distracted.” 

“I think she is aware of these distractions and is sympathetic. But she knows the other thing that would imperil their work is starvation. As Qamar the Untiring nourishes Morien’s Oxen, so that they may continue to lift the realm out of oblivion, the Sustainer camp needs food and wood to maintain their labors. She hoped that, like Qamar, you could resume supporting their efforts.”

Roll: Compel, Heart, Storyweaver – Miss, demand that costs you greatly (uh oh, whoopsie, shouldn’t have just burned all that momentum on the previous roll)

Her brow raised, “Qamar? Mira didn’t hope I’d be like Qamar, Mira believes him to be dead. You though? You follow the Old Gods? You are no Sustainer.”

And then her eyes flashed, the spark of newly realized opportunity.

“So, if you’re not a Sustainer, then you likely aren’t required for them to continue their work? I’m told you claim to be some fierce warrior. That remains to be seen but if Mira chose you as a proxy, you are trustworthy. And if Mira is unwilling to display her ties to me, her proxy must.”

I did not follow, apparently visibly. So she continued.

“You’ve approached me. If anyone was watching, you’d already have been seen to have chosen a side. Your friends need their supply and I need my allies close. Both needs must be satisfied. One cannot be assured without the other. You understand?” 

I did. I was startled by the condition. I did not like it but I, again, could think of no other way, I had made a vow. So I added my own conditions.

“I will not skulk with a blade. I will not strike those unworthy to be struck. Good?”

“I’m sure I’ll still find some use for you. Return to Mira, tell her that she will receive renewed shipment tomorrow. It’s nearing dusk, so collect what you might need and return in the morning. I will have task for you and I’ll need you to reside on the grounds, in case things escalate further.”

I would need to stay here, leave the Sustainer Camp? Leave Pella?

“I need to sleep here? Can I not stay at the camp and just answer when tasked?”

“The Sustainer camp? Of course not, at least not for now. I told you, I need my allies close. And don’t you think wandering back and forth between here and the camp runs counter to Mira’s hopes to obscure their ties to me?”

I wanted to argue further but no words came, she was right.

Mark Progress: Resupply the Camp – Convince Cera to renew shipments

Going into this conversation, I hadn’t even considered the possibility of a full miss on the compel roll (Hob having 3 Heart and a +1 bonus from Storyweaver and all) but afterwards, I was very pleased with how it played out and all the interesting ways that one single failed social roll might impact the character’s trajectory and bonds.)

So I collected my blade, left the grounds, and returned down the Overlook to Pella.

I found her kneeling over the river, building small boats from leaves and twigs. I hoped she had recovered from the shame and awkwardness of our parting. Her Sustainer secrets seemed so unimportant now.

She smiled at my approach. Then, seeing my troubled eyes, she rushed to me and asked how it went, if it had gone poorly.

I told her everything, what had transpired and how I felt about it. And I cried. She held me and told me it would be ok. That we would still be able to see each other. That this was only a temporary separation. It  would resolve soon and I would be back in her tent before we knew it. I listened. I believed her. And the sobbing faded.

We returned to the camp and found Mira in Teegan’s tent. They had been awaiting my return. I reported on the meeting and agreement. That the supply would renew under the condition that I serve Cera in what was about to come. Mira seemed displeased but not surprised. They thanked me for my efforts and then thanked me again for the additional labors that I would carry so that they may remain, that their work might continue. Teegan reconfirmed they owed me a great debt. It was more than words, it was a promise of repayment. A favor owed. I would remember it.

Mark Progress: Resupply the Camp – Inform Mira and Teegan of arrangement

Roll: Fullfill Your Vow, Resupply the Camp – Strong Hit

And so I spent my final night in the Sustainer camp. My final night with Pella. And in the morning, I collected my things. Not many things. Just Haf’s shield; the band from Kaivana’s shield, salvaged after Haf had split the boards; the raider’s map of the eastern Barrier; and my new pack and camp supplies, acquired with the lapis ring that had been my share of the longship spoils to replace my old gear now lost to the seacave below the Beacon. And then I said my goodbyes, left the camp, and back at the base of the Overlook, I embraced and parted from Pella. We both smiled, we were hopeful. I’d see her soon.