Hob finally sneaks away to visit Pella, checks in on the hunter’s survivors, and picks up the trail to finally confront the escaped assassin.

---

We looked down over the Hovels, the Pillars always in view to our right. We’d absconded from the camp at such a pace that we were now winded, pausing to rest on the northeastern outskirts of Autumnrush, where hills start to become mountain. No hovels or longhouses lay upon these hills as they were too rocky to field, but they did provide a striking view of the farms and fjord below, brilliant sun reflecting across water, and the occasional vividly colored sail. The day was hot and dry but the uphill breeze from the sea below was strong, cool and refreshing after our flight. 

“So you’re telling me that the forest was somehow inside the knife?”

“I mean, I think so? Either that or the sheath. I don’t know where else it could have been. If the hunter controlled it, I don’t think she would have so easily allowed us to escape.”

It had only been three days since I’d last seen Pella, since we had embraced and parted from each other at the base of the Overlook, but much had happened in that time and she wanted to hear about all of it. I could tell she’d been bored. Of course she had, the camp was boring. I’d chosen the right time to visit. 

Once we’d climbed far enough past the fields that we were unlikely to happen upon further folk, we took off our cloaks. I’m sure they had drawn attention, thick wool under a hot sun, but I could think of no other way to approach or leave the Sustainer camp without being recognized. That morning, when I had told Cera and Verena of my intentions to visit, I’d asked for a cloak, a gift for Pella. 

She’d assented, “Fine, it does not hurt me if my connection to the Sustainer’s becomes known. That was Mira’s concern. Do as you see fit but you answer to her and not me for the risk.”

Roll: Face Danger, Shadow, visit Pella without being noticed – Weak Hit, you sacrifice resources, -1 supply

Having acquired a cloak for Pella, I’d borrowed Kormak’s for myself (after returning his long knife and leaving him with Haf’s shield and my blanket from our original trade) and left the grounds, waiting to raise the hood until I’d reached the base of the Overlook and a lull in foot traffic. I didn’t think anyone had recognized me as I approached the camp since I was now familiar enough with the port that I could take the narrow and uncrowded side streets where it is difficult to be followed without notice. But I had not answered to Mira for the risk. I had not even seen her before Pella surprised me with a tight embrace (her shoulder had finally healed!) and led me, nay, pulled me off of Pillar Hill to “escape the tedium of the tents.”

Roll: Oracle, have Sustainers made progress on journal? Likely – No; Oracle, is there word of a new expedition? Likely – yes

Neither of us seemed eager to climb further as the hills were beginning to grow steeper, so I spread Kormak’s cloak over the ground for us to sit. And after we had settled, I approached the question I had been waiting to ask, but cautiously, without expectation of answer. I would not repeat my previous mistakes, would not lay claim to her loyalties or secrets. 

“Pella, can you tell me if Teegan has made any sense of the journal? I fear the carvings on the Beacon may be somehow connected to those Cadigan discovered on the blade’s hilt. That they might help me understand the blade’s purpose, might provide insight.”

I removed the blade from my belt and presented it to her. She eyed it warily but took the scabbard, resting it across her lap and running her thumb slowly across the engraved runes along the bone grip.

“You may be right, they flow in a similar manner. I don’t know though. I’ve heard of no progress with the journal.” Then, moving her hand to mine, “You should ask Teegan directly. He is grateful for your efforts, he will help you if you ask.”

And I knew that she spoke truth, that she was honest, that she was unaware of any insight yet gained from the journal. That, though there were things she would not tell me, she would never lie to me. And that was all I was owed, so I held her left hand between both of mine and admired the sun’s reflections across the water, and then the glare from the Twin Pillars caught my gaze, and then Pella’s gleaming eyes. She had been watching me, been holding back something as well.

“Hob, I think we’re leaving.”

A kick to my chest but I recovered. “Do you know when?”

She shook her head. My eyes blinked, I would not allow the tears to pool.

Where would they be going if they hadn’t yet deciphered Kodroth’s journal. “Where?”

“I don’t know, maybe west. It’s not even certain. Mira just told me that we may need to travel by foot, and if we did, there might be little notice, so to have gear ready.”

“Maybe I can join, can come with.”

She moved her right hand over the top of mine, which still cradled her left, and offered a gentle squeeze. “Can you though?”

“I”, she was right, “I don’t know.” I was sworn to Cera’s banner and the hunter still lived, her motives and master unknown. I had not yet satisfied my task and I could not forsake it.

She smiled, an attempt at reassurance. “It will be ok. It might not even happen and if it does, I will return.”

I shuffled my hands so they enclosed both of hers and caught her eyes with mine. “If it happens, promise me that you will tell me before you leave. Maybe my task will be finished and I can come with. But if not, I will need to know where you are going. I can’t handle the unknowns.”

Her mossy eyes promised that she would, and that was enough for me. So we watched the fjord, gold on azure, and held each other’s hands in silence. For how long, I cannot say? Hours maybe. But it was tranquil and more words would have spoiled it. In silence we could find a joy, melancholy though it was.

Eventually we said our goodbyes. Pella promised again to tell me if they were leaving and I promised to make another visit soon. And then, as she returned the way we had come, back to Pillar Hill, I hiked down to the Hovels, to check with Delkah regarding Kuron and Artiga as I’d vowed I would. I should have gone earlier, before seeing Pella, and felt guilty about the delay as it had stemmed only from cowardice, from fear that the boy’s condition had worsened even after the poisoning had ceased. Fear that I had failed to save a child.

Roll: Oracle, has Kuron improved?, 50/50 – Yes (nice!)

I found Delkah in her garden. She greeted me with a large expressive grin. Kuron had improved! His weakness had receded and appetite returned. He’d been in a heavy sleep since the healer had visited that morning. She did not offer to see him and I was wary of disturbing his rest, so I did not ask. I noticed Artiga watching me from the hovel door, but she did not approach. I waved and smiled at her but she didn’t respond, only watched.

Delkah observed the girl, “She hasn’t spoken or left her brother’s side since you returned them to us. Robbed of her parents, forced to watch her brother poisoned, her healing will take time.” Then, turning to me, “Has she who did this been found?”

I shook my head, “No, not yet. But if the boy has improved, so will have Lio, and many more will be looking. She will be found. How do your kin fare?”

 “They are anxious.”

“They should be, I don’t think finding the assassin will be the end of this. You should look to each other and prepare. Those with power are too occupied with their own safety. Do not rely upon them.”

I spoke truth, The Three were entrenched, had barricaded themselves away in island fortresses or lumber camps or longhouses behind bodyguard. They could not be depended upon to look to the Hovelers’ needs. Even the children had only been rescued because Verena and I stumbled upon them while attempting to break Lio’s curse. The Hovelers’ wellbeing had not been our task or purpose and if further crisis developed, we would likely be occupied elsewhere.

Delkah and I said our goodbyes and, after waving again to Artiga, still watching from the doorway, I returned to Cera’s grounds. It was evening by the time I’d navigated the winding streets, Grain Market, and river path back to the Overlook.

---

I entered the longhouse to find visitors. Nisas and his two companions, the lanky woman and stoic man, were at the hearth, speaking with Cera. Verena, Kormak, and other bodyguard stood close by. All turned to me expectantly as I entered, giving me the uncomfortable impression that I had been the topic of discussion. I began to apologize for the interruption and retreat the way I had come but Cera stopped me.

“Basira, we’ve been waiting for your return. There’s word.”

At that, Nisas spoke up, “You were right, the curse is broken. Lio has rallied.”

I grinned, “I am thankful to learn it!” I had guessed this would be so after Kuron’s improvement but the confirmation was welcome.

He continued, “There’s more. The healer sent us to retrieve you. There is something about the knife, some hint towards finding the assassin. Will you come with us?”

I was surprised by the request, “The ashen curls? What hint?”

Nisas shrugged, “I don’t know, they still make little sense to me. They said you would be the only one that could ‘follow the thread’ and asked that we bring you to Mouth’s Watch.”

But I had followed the thread, I had closed it. “But the thread ended where the hunter dropped the sheath, there was no further thread to follow.”

He shrugged again, reiterating that he had no further answers to offer.

I looked to Cera for guidance. She spent a moment in contemplation before providing it.

“If there is a new thread, then you should follow it, right? Basira, will you go with them to find the assassin and reveal her motive?”

With her consent, the choice was clear.

“Aye,” solemnly spoken with hand to hilt, “I vow that I will run the hunter to ground and discover her secrets, her purpose.”

Roll: Swear an Iron Vow, Find the hunter and learn who is behind the attack, Dangerous, +1 bond with Cera – Strong Hit, path is clear

Cera’s expected smile, “Ideal, thank you, Basira. Verena?”

Verena stepped forward, clearly intending to again accompany me.

Nisas seemed pleased. “We should leave now then, before the sun sets. We have a boat awiting to return us to the fort.”

I stowed Kormak’s cloak in my room, quickly returning, and we left the longhouse. We reached the Tidewater warehouse and Nisas’ boat before dusk and arrived to Mouth’s Watch before night fell. The short voyage was uneventful and mostly silent. There was an awkward wariness between us, the agents of Longbridge and the Reach, currently allies but former rivals. I think both sides feared finding comradery with each other for, if we succeeded and restored the old peace, we would likely become rivals once more.

I did have an opportunity to observe Nisas’ companions though. The stoic man was named Alban and the lanky woman, Nakata. They appeared to be kin of some sort, closer to each other than their warcaptain, and frequently spoke in hushed tones. Nakata’s eyes were untrusting and Alban’s, now that I was starting to pick up on his subtle manner of expression, seemed cruel or calculating. Dangerous either way.

After mooring the boat to the small dock, alongside the Starving Wolf, we hiked up the path towards the fort. It was not yet dark and so the camp was still awake, the warcrew livelier and in better spirits than our last visit. This time Nisas did not demand Verena and I leave our blades in the boat. A subtle expression of trust that I would not tarnish by commenting on.

Roll: Oracle, is Lio in deep rest like Kuron was? 50/50 – No

Nisas greeted the sentries at the fort and we entered. As we passed through the doorless threshold, a stifling heat caught the air in my chest. The hearth burned too brightly, too sweltering for this, the hottest day of the summer so far. The healer sat at the table, watching us from behind ashen curls as they twisted and braided what looked like a branch and vine and root of some sort. Lio was again resting atop the furs by the hearth, but this time he sat upright, alert. He turned to our presence, both hands squeezing a small steaming clay cup that he sipped from. A hot drink by a hot fire on a hot day.

“The hound!” Lio’s voice did not quiver. “She who broke the ritual.”

He did not rise. He seemed relaxed, maybe just restful as Kuron had been or, more likely, lulled by whatever was in the steaming cup.

I smiled, “I told you, I am not Cera’s hound.”

A chuckle, hoarse but robust. “Of course you are. Maybe not Cera’s, but you tracked the fox did you not? And now you’ve come to finish the hunt.”

My eyes raised at the mention of “fox”. Had he seen the hunter and her cloak of many furs during his sickness, or was it just a turn of speech?

“The fox? Did you see her?”

“I did, and I saw her run. Saw her flee from the hound.” He chuckled again, amused with himself.

I wondered if part of him had been in that dark forest when I’d first met him, when he had seemed away and unreachable, staring off into flame and shadow.

Then a thud drew my attention back towards the ashen curls. They had ceased their braiding and dropped the ebony-handled knife on the table. I took this as signal that it was time to speak to them, to hear why I had been summoned, so I took my place on a stool across from them.

“You sent for me? There is more to be done? A new thread?”

Their cloudy eyes studied the knife, hearthflame illuminating their face and tattoos. I had guessed right the first time we’d met, the tattoos were animals. Two predators, long and interwoven with each other. Short clawed feet and rows of fangs. Stoats maybe?

The humming voice, “The old thread, closed but remains. She is here.”

“The hunter is here!?” On the island!?

With two fingers they rhythmically tapped, almost prodded, the knife’s sheath.

“She is here.”

What? “In the knife?”

The rhythm of tapping increased. “In the darkness.”

And then I understood. “She is still in the forest? Is she trapped?”

“Yes, trap-ped.”

So she had fled but been unable to escape the twilight forest without the knife or sheath, those things which had allowed me to lead Verena and the children back to the light.

“Can I find her, can I return there?”

Their face twitched, the ashen curls shook, the eyes cleared. “Can you?”

And I knew that I could. I reached across the table and took the knife, one hand on sheath and one on hilt, and as I lifted it from the table, the hearthflame went out!

Purchase Asset: Lightdrinker (Capture light essence and use it for bonus to navigate darkness)

This is a narrative reskin of the Lightbearer ritual that is tied to the ebony-handled knife. Hob previously used this ability when she grabbed the sheath in the twilight forest after defeating the hunter last episode. Instead of creating light, it grants Hob a form of nightvision. The darkness has become a theme in Hob’s struggles and the established fiction around the knife seemed like an interesting thing to expand upon mechanically so I thought this was a good way to do so.

Roll: Lightdrinker, Wits – Weak Hit, 3 light track

As the gasps of surprise faded and our eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw the shadows within shadows, on the stairway behind the ashen curls that led to the top of the fort. And then the others noticed the shadows, but only Verena had entered them prior and recognized them for what they were. She instinctively reached for her shortsword and, on seeing her do so, Nisas and his companions readied their weapons as well.

She looked to me. “Do we really need to return to that place?”

“No, just me.” Rising from the stool and lifting the knife and its sheath before me for her to see, “I hold sway there now. And I will visit my prisoner.”

She nodded, she understood, “Be careful.”

“I will.” and, at that, I placed the knife in my belt, opposite the blade, where Kormak’s dagger had previously rested, and stepped around the table to climb the stairs.

Mark Progress: Find the hunter and learn her motive – Discover that she is still trapped within the Twilight Forest

Discover a Site: The Twilight Forest, Troublesome – Hallowed Tanglewood (I’ve been here before, but have not fully explored it so things may have changed)

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits, +2 Lightdrinker – Strong Hit; Find an Opportunity – Locate a secure area, take action now

I held my breath and shut my eyes as I took the first step, into the first shadow. I shuddered as the hollow chill of darkness emptied the stifling summer heat from the air, and then I could breathe again. The shadows were colder than before. Not quite a frost but I could see the breath fog before me. It was as when I‘d first taken the sheath, prying it from the hunter’s severed arm, the arm that had somehow grown back. The shadows of the forest remained but it was almost as if light had been painted over them. A soft grey radiated from my breath and arm and foot and the steps in front of me, the top of the stairs and the branches beyond glowing softer yet. 

As I reached the top of the stairs, which should have led to the roof of the fort, I instead climbed out of a cave, back into the twilight forest. This part of the woods looked dead, barren. Or maybe they were the same as before and just time had passed, almost winter now. The dried leaves had all fallen from the trees and were blowing across the forest floor in waves. I could see farther now that the branches were bare. There was something in the distance that rose above the trees, so far off that it was just a thin smudged grey.

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits, +2 Lightdrinker, +1 take action now – Weak Hit, Mark Progress

I’m not sure if I would normally allow myself to always use Lightdrinker for delve or journey moves in the dark (I could see myself trying to exploit that and only travel at night or something). In this instance though, this specific dark forest likely exists within Lightdrinker itself, or is somehow created and sustained by the knife or sheath, so I think it is fair to use the asset frequently to reflect that the knife-wielder exerts some sort of influence or control in this realm.

I hiked towards the towering object, climbing a short slope until I reached a rocky hilltop where the withered trees thinned and winds grew stronger, strong enough that they kept the ridge clear of the piling leaves. Standing atop the stones, I looked down into a shallow valley. The object lay in its center, now close and bright enough that I could make out its shape. It was not a Pillar. It was too short and too wide, growing even broader near its base. A monolith? A tower maybe? If so, I had never seen one so tall, at least outside of the blade’s dreams.

By some means, I cannot say how, I knew that I would find the hunter there. So I descended into the valley, my sword hand resting on the ebony handle of the knife as I did so. A soft growl from the blade, more jealous than hungry.

Roll: Delve the Depths, Wits (I’m saving my last light essence for an emergency) – Weak Hit, choose one, Mark Progress or Find an Opportunity, Mark Progress

Back into the barren branches and the rolling leaves. As I grew close and the spire’s glow sharpened and focused, I saw that it was not a tower at all, but was as if numerous hard-edged columns, all of different heights, had been lifted and planted beside each other. A structure both natural and alien. Too chaotic to have been built by Ironlanders, too perfect to have been crafted by nature.

The trees thinned and cleared as I approached the structure. It looked like it might be scalable. Many of the columns were close enough in height to their neighbors that they might even serve as steps. I would climb them and survey the valley for sign of the hunter.

Roll: Locate Your Objective (9 progress) – Weak Hit, unforeseen hazard

I had not ascended far, maybe a dozen feet, still a ways from even the midpoint of the spire, alternating between stepping and climbing, pulling myself and scrambling to reach the next column, when I heard a giggle from below.

It was the hunter! The wild eyes behind tangled hair, the wolf and fox heads meeting at the clasp of the many-furred cloak, and a bow with arrow notched. I stood atop the narrow column I’d last clambered onto and glared down at her. She was too far below to descend without being riddled with arrows. I was too far from the top of the structure to find cover or break sight. I was trapped.

I was a fool. She had no bow when we’d first faced each other, but, of course, she would have had one stashed away somewhere. She was a hunter and could not have taken the prey to decorate that gruesome altar with sword alone. I knew I couldn’t have foreseen returning to the forest and facing such ambush, but I felt foolish nonetheless, unprepared. Yet again facing bow without a board, mine safely tucked away in Kormak’s room back at the longhouse. 

Roll: Endure Stress, unprepared – Weak Hit (Uh oh, back to zero Spirit. I really need to get that shield back.)

Mark Progress: Find the hunter and learn her motive – Find the hunter

“You finally came.” She giggled again. 

“I did. And now I have found you.” I did not feel as brave as I hoped I sounded. “Have you waited in ambush this whole time? You knew I would come here?”

Another wild giggle and then she sharpened, joyful but focused. “No, at first I hid in the forest, forever maybe. I doubt even you could have found me. But as I watched the leaves fall, I wondered what hiding would get me, just an eternity in the cold darkness. So I came to its tallest landmark to wait for you. And here you are!”

She did appear as if she’d been hiding in the forest, crushed leaves and broken twigs tangled throughout her hair.

“Has it been that long?”

She giggled again, this time as if I’d made a joke.

“As I said, I watched the leaves fall. Now, you should drop down Lightdrinker to me and I will trade with you. I will leave and you can find out if it snows in a place such as this.”

“And what is this place?”

Another giggle at another joke. “Oh, they haven’t told you? Even your friend?” She twitched the notched arrow, gesturing down towards my belt, towards the blade? “Your friend should remember it well.”

The blade stirred at the reference, I reached for the bone grip. “My friend? The blade?”

“You don’t know? They are siblings, forge mates.”

“Siblings? The blade and knife?”

Another chuckle, throaty and threatening now. “Drop the knife and, after I leave, you can ask it all about it. There will be plenty of time for stories while you two wait for the snows. *drawing the arrow back* Or would you rather I took both the knife and the blade?”

I rathered she took neither. I would not stay there, trapped in the darkness, but I had no leverage to bluff. So instead, I jumped, drawing the blade as I kicked off of the column.

Roll: Face Danger, Edge – Weak Hit (Hob is faster than I give her credit for); Endure Harm – Weak Hit 

Roll: Enter the Fray, The Hunter, Formidable, Heart, +1 Bladebound – Weak Hit, Take initiative

The hunter had misjudged my desperation. She had been expecting more words, not yet action. And so I heard the loosed arrow clang against the column behind me as I launched myself into the air and dropped the dozen feet back to earth. I landed safely on my feet, if not gracefully, uninjured but losing my wind from the impact. I didn’t need to breathe for the blade to act though, I launched myself forward, allowing its arc to carry me, as she stepped back, dropping her bow and drawing the shortsword from her belt.

Roll: Strike, Iron – Weak Hit

She did not retreat fast enough though and the blade sighed as her free hand fell to the floor of the clearing. The blade wanted to continue but I could not yet, I needed to collect my breath before taking another step or I would falter. A giggle and I looked up to see her crouching, a low stance with her sword extended defensively while her other hand groped for something in a pouch on her belt. The hand the blade had just taken! I glanced to the ground, to where the cleaved hand had fallen, for confirmation. There it lay, a bloody and severed copy. So her wounds still healed, instantaneously even. Unwelcome news.

Her restored hand removed a cloth from the pouch, dripping something (blood?) as she squeezed and ran it along the blade of her sword. 

Another giggle. “I now recognize your friend, what it is that wields you. I had missed it the first time we met, had been too focused on the thread, on Lightdrinker. I was just startled was all, now I remember that I’ve no reason to run.” And then, dropping the cloth to the ground, she advanced.

Roll: Clash, Iron – Strong Hit, Find an opening

I was not eager to receive a wound from that sword, from whatever poison she had applied to its blade, so, having caught my wind, I threw myself forward, a wide low swing with both hands to force her to either parry or retreat. She did the latter, pouncing back out of the blade’s reach before again, hurling herself towards me. She was swift and hoped to close before I could recover from my swing. 

In her time watching the leaves fall she must have forgotten that the blade was swift as well. I reversed the swing before she could reach me and cleaved off her leg. But she did not fall, she howled in pain yet remained on her feet, still rushing towards me. The leg remained attached to her, but another fell to the ground, bloody and severed like the hand. It was as if she had two right legs, and the blade had only been able to remove one of them.

Roll: Strike, Iron – Miss; Endure Harm – Strong Hit, Shake it off

I was wrong, she had not forgotten how fast the blade was, she was just unconcerned by it. I tried to bring the blade back into another swing but she was already upon me. I felt her sword bite into the shoulder of my shield arm. I cried out. It was cold, an icy stab that penetrated and then burned away to numbness. My arm and then hand grew frostbound, deadened and unfeeling, losing grip on the bone hilt so that I could no longer wield the blade two-handed. She sighed, almost as the blade did.

Roll: Strike, Iron – Weak Hit => Burn Momentum – Strong Hit, +2 Harm Swordmaster

The chill grew, I felt faint. The hunter hugged me now, too close for me to wield the blade. I felt her free hand, the one I had severed earlier, gripping my waist, groping at my belt as her wild eyes smiled into mine. She was going for the knife!

She would not have it! I bent my knees, dropping the knife further from her reach, and, with my remaining strength, slammed my good shoulder into her gut, knocking the breath from her and pushing her off of me. As she was forced back, her sword twisted and pulled from my shoulder. I again cried in pain as the wound widened. And then my cry deepened into a roar and I planted myself. As the momentum of my shove carried her past arms’ reach, I stepped forward and brought the blade down on her sword arm with a crude overhead chop.

Roll: End the Fight (10 Progress) – Weak Hit, it’s worse than you thought (Ugh); Endure Harm – Miss, Wounded (Well shit, Wounded and zero Spirit and Momentum, whatever was on that cloth was bad news)

The blade sighed and the blood sprayed. Her arm and sword dropped to the floor as she toppled backwards. Unsurprisingly, another version of her arm remained in place, but she was defeated, disarmed. She panted and wheezed now, no more giggles, injured though no wounds could be seen. Just bloody limbs scattered across the clearing.

And then the numbness from my shoulder reached my chest, my heart, and I almost fainted. I staggered and caught myself, forcing slow steady breaths, but did not fall. Somewhat recovered, I stepped forward, standing over her, lying on her back, I set the blade to her throat. She stared up at me, her eyes no less wild in defeat.

“Next I will take your head, heard?”

She glared back, unafraid.

“You recognized the blade, you said it knew this place? That it knew the knife, Lightdrinker, that they were siblings, forge mates?”

Her untamed eyes flashed. “Yes, forge mates, like us maybe?” A weak giggle through snarling lips.

Another frozen wave from the wound. I rooted myself for a moment, slowing my breaths so they ceased to cause my chest to spasm, before continuing.

“I know not how you yet live, but I know the blade is unpleasant for you. I’ve heard the pain in your cries. Ye Rana felt pain when they died as well. When they crossed the Barren Fields, they froze to death every night and burned to death every morning. But after each death, they were born anew, and pressed onward to eventually escape that desolate expanse. You though, you will not escape these woods. There would be no end to your suffering. Tell me the story of this blade, who is its owner, what is its history, or face that fate.”

Roll: Compel, Iron, +1 Storyweaver, +1 Honorbound – Miss, Make a demand which costs me greatly

Laughter was her response, wild like her eyes. “Threats? You would threaten me with Ye Rana’s suffering? A failed god from a failed land? You know not my fears. That is no threat. Besides, you would soon tire of the work.”

She lifted her neck and shoulders to rest on her elbows, pushing her throat closer to the blade. The blade that grew ever heavier from the chill in my chest, ever more difficult to lift to her neck.

Seeing how I wavered, her eyes sparked. “Give me back the sheath and I will tell you, I will tell you what your friend has kept secret. Maybe even its name. And then we will part from each other and go our own ways, both leave the forest, you with the knife, and I with the sheath.” A conspiratorial wink, we could both get what we wanted.

The stabbing breaths made my memory weak, and so I entertained the offer. The blade had a name? I needed to know what she knew and my bluff had not worked, she did not fear the Old Gods or the blade. Maybe the price was worth the prize. But then I remembered the bodies, the parents, Amar and Nia, wasted and taken. And I remembered what she had done to Kuron, just a boy. I remembered what cruelty the hunter brought upon the guiltless while pursuing her prey and I shook my head in anger.

I thought to strike her down, to take her head. I wanted to but knew it would accomplish little. I could not end her, not truly. She was defeated for now but the chill spread again and I did not think I could even spare the strength to swing the blade, not if I wanted to leave the forest before I collapsed. The blade pulled but I pleaded, she was a poor meal and I would do it no good unconscious. It listened and calmed.

So instead of taking her head, I told her the truth. “No, you will not have the sheath. You will rot one thousand deaths. You will remain here and I will leave.”

She cocked her head in response, eyes still focused, controlled. “No. I don’t think so. I will remain here but you will return. And then you will give me the sheath. You will beg to do so. Plead for their secrets. I will wait.”

Roll: Oracle, Are the hunter’s motives secrets to her? 50/50 – No

This makes sense to me. Her motives are strange, her powers are strange, and the weird hallowed tanglewood and altar imply something more wyrd than a simple political assassin. I think she is proud of her purpose. Would proselytize instead of hide it. So I think a Gather Information move is reasonable to see what she volunteers.

Roll: Gather Information – Miss (This fits, a dire threat it is.); So many more oracle rolls. 

The hunter rose further so she was sitting up, I shuffled back a step to keep the blade to her throat.

“What will you do when the torches are set alight? You will beg and you will plead and we will guide the flames together.”

“What torches? What flames will we guide?” She was harder to make sense of than the ashen curls. Her cryptic speech seemed more purposeful, intending to cast more shadow than light.

“The flames that need fuel.” Another spark flashing across her eyes, “When the budding pyre blossoms, when the vines erupt outward, stretching to strangle the world. Embracing the world.”

More riddles. I resteadied my breathing.

“Your words make no sense. Why would I return here to beg you for more riddles? Tell me why you have done this? What was your purpose?”

A coy giggle. “I dreamt it. It was a memory of the ebony. It happened before and so must happen again. The guide must transition, to one capable to withstand the growing waves. That Which Hungers requests it.”

“That Which Hungers? Is that who the altar was for? Is that who you serve?” 

“Oh,” her voice softening in disappointment, “you’ve forgotten?” And then excited again, as if realizing it wasn’t so bad as she’d first thought. “Your friend remembers though. *nodding to the blade* Your friend has memories too. You will play your part. We all must.”

My fit of coughing interrupted her as the chill again seized my chest. The hunter waited until the spasms passed, giddy and amused, leaning forward as the blade fell to my side. Anticipating.

“You and me, we’ll play our parts.” Another wink as she pulled her legs back to sit on her knees.

And then it sunk in, she was getting stronger while I was getting weaker. She would recover soon and I would be helpless. I needed to leave, now! While I was still able. I could waste no more time with her riddles. So I left her, turning and stumbling away from the columns, out of the clearing and back into the bare trees and blowing leaves. With each step my breaths grew more biting and heavier to draw.

Roll: Escape the Depths, Iron, +2 Lightdrinker (good thing I saved one light essence for my escape) – Strong Hit (phew)

But I held sway here. My breaths became gasps, shallow and staggered. I should not have been able to climb back up out of the valley, but I held sway here. I focused on the soft glow of the ridge in the distance and simply willed it to become brighter. And as it grew in intensity, I was propelled closer, until I was at the top of the hill, risking a quick backward glance to make sure the hunter was not in pursuit before continuing down the slope to the cave and the stairs. And then I was tumbling down the stairs, slamming into a floor of heat and light, the glare of hearthflame, no longer glimmers painted upon shadows. And then I blacked out, I slept. Moreso in void than in darkness, formless and empty.

Mark Progress: Find the hunter and learn her motive – She dreamt it, claims she was recreating the memory of the knife? That Which Hungers demanded it?

Fulfill Your Vow: Find the hunter and learn her motive (6 progress) – Strong Hit, +1 XP Bannersworn, 3 XP

To be honest, I was expecting a weak hit or miss on the Fulfill Your Vow roll. The hunter was located and neutralized (for now) but her motives make little sense, just cryptic riddles and warnings. I think they do reveal a Threat though (with a capital T), amorphous and poorly formed as it might currently be. And, assuming she spoke truth, they imply that the assassination attempt of Lio was not merely an act of political intrigue, that she served a higher and darker purpose. So, I think I will go ahead with the Strong Hit and rely on the oracles and fiction to reveal more in the near future.

Mark Progress: Blade Vow – Learn that Lightdrinker and the blade are ‘forge mates’, that they have memories. The hunter knows more but refuses to share unless I release her. 

This was a hard choice regarding whether the hunter’s cryptic words, which raised more questions than gave answers, provided enough information to warrant progress on my background vow. In the end, I thought that just by learning there was a shared history with the knife and discovering those questions existed, Hob was closer to finding answers than she had been prior, so progress was justified.