Having barely survived her confrontation with the hunter and escaped the twilight forest, Hob reconnects with her bonds while she recovers from her wound. A difficult goodbye, a surprise visit, and a dire threat becomes known.

I’m very happy with the pacing of the campaign and journal so far. If Hob reaching Autumnrush was the end of the first act, then this would mark the end of the second. Hinted threats reveal themselves and the actors are beginning to move towards their final backdrop. Towards events that will likely impact the entire cast of the story, likely for the worse unless Hob manages to intervene. I’m still not really sure where this is all leading but I’m having a lot of fun playing, writing, and drawing to find out.

---

Roll: Sojourn, Mouth’s Watch and Cera’s Grounds – Strong Hit, mend (remove wounded), recuperate, consort; Focus, consort – Strong Hit

And then the emptiness was replaced by people, a series of spotty memories. Ashen curls humming and grinding. Lio chuckling by the hearth. Elstan assisting me to walk. No, not Elstan, he was in Whitbarrow. Nisas or Verena maybe? The sway of a boat and bright sun. The bump of a wagon and then my bed. And then Pella, many short memories of Pella sitting beside me, smiling, helping me eat, dozing on a stool, somehow able to sleep while sitting upright and leaning backwards against the wall.

Roll: Oracle, Does Pella leave while I’m still out of it?, Unlikely – No

And then the faces slowed and I was awake. Awake and idle. The freeze from whatever it was the hunter had coated her shortsword with had receded but the numbness remained. Meaning I thankfully felt no pain from the ugly wound on my shoulder but also could not make use of my shield arm, I could not even feel it. I examined the estranged limb, tightly slung to my side, and prodded it with my good hand. Still nothing.

“I don’t think you should be doing that. Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean you aren’t making the injury worse.” Pella teased me from my doorway, removing her cloak and running her hands through her hair where the hood had matted it down. She offered a sympathizing grin as she tapped her own shoulder, the one injured under the Beacon that had taken so long to fully heal. “Trust me, it’s best to just leave it be.”

She was right and she would know. I swung my legs over the bed to stand. “Can we go outside? I’m bored and hot, I almost miss the chill now. This air is no easier to breathe.” I knew it would be just as sweltering outside, but at least the river would carry a breeze and the dock was bound to be less stifling.

I could walk without aid, though a little slower since the numbness forced shallower breaths, so Pella matched my pace. But she didn’t hover. She trusted me to know my limits, and I was thankful for it.

We stepped out of the longhouse into the mid-day sun. There was a boat at the docks though, Cera and the crew at task making a final inventory and securing goods for its return trip back up the Bas. So we hiked along the river to the northern grounds, the outskirts of Autumnrush, where forest began to reclaim the hills, towards the winding valley that eventually led to the Havens.

It was difficult to speak while walking, the shallow breaths allowing only one or the other, so I focused on the foothpath ahead of me. Pella respected my silence and strolled beside, taking my good hand in hers and softly humming a rowers’ chant that I couldn’t quite place the name of or recall the words to. The  way she hummed it, soft and slow, made the chant more reflective, more introspective, and so I soon lost myself in thought, attempting to again parse what it was I remembered and what I did not.

I didn’t recall much from my time at Mouth’s Watch after I’d fled the forest and hunter. But I knew the ashen curls had healed me, had likely saved my life, thawing the freeze in my chest. One day I hoped to exchange in kind. They were still an enigma to me but they had served as my guide before and might do so again. They had taught so little but still steered me towards such knowledge.

Roll: Forge a Bond, the ashen curls – Weak Hit => Reroll – Strong Hit

I remember Lio laughing. Healthy chuckles. Was he telling me jokes? I didn’t recall their substance but he must have found them funny. He’d reminded me of the elders back home, doting over their favorite orphan, ‘the Hob of the Gate’. I wondered if he had always been so warmhearted before I’d met him in his cursed and wasted state, a trait rare among those wielding authority. I knew nothing of his family but guessed he was likely a grandfather, or at least a father. Or maybe this was new, maybe the sickness had changed him.

Roll: Forge a Bond, Lio the Guide – Weak Hit => Reroll – Weak Hit, asks for something more first

I saved Lio’s life and apparently listened to his jokes. He has taken a liking to me in a fatherly way and would like me as an ally. He will ask something more of me to confirm that friendship.

There were other memories as well, but they were too brief and detached to be sure if they were truth or dream. For example, I thought I’d seen Elstan, reassuring me that I would recover, just as before when the raider’s spear had pierced my thigh. But Elstan was not in Autumnrush. The last I had seen him was in Stoneharbor, when I’d boarded the Piercing Swan to sail east with the Sustainers while he waited for his surviving crewmates to heal enough to limp west back to Whitbarrow. 

I remembered Nisas though, him and his companions, Nakata and Alban, helping me stumble (mostly carrying me, I’m sure) down to the dock where Verena and the fishers, Lago and Nakuras, brought me back to the port, back up to Cera’s grounds, to my room and bed in the longhouse. Apparently it had been days at Mouth’s Watch, under the care of the ashen curls, before I was well enough to come home. And then there was Pella, and eventually I was awake more often than asleep and able to recollect even more. Roused enough to reflect on what had happened in the twilight forest.

The hunter. She had very nearly caught me, trapped me. I had been careless, thinking I had the advantage while her recovering strength snuck up on me. I almost didn’t escape because I was too desperate for answers, too distracted by her riddles to sense the danger. She was more cunning than I, too dangerous to approach again, and so she must remain in the darkness, trapped with her secrets. She had shared some of them though, riddles that they were. I pored over those I could remember. There must have been hints to her purpose, to the blade’s and Lightdrinker’s. Other paths to find those truths.

She had spoken of torches set alight. Said they would need fuel. Had claimed we would guide the flames together, or was it quench them together? She’d spoken of vines erupting outwards, strangling the world.

She’d claimed that she hunted Lio because it was one of Lightdrinker’s memories, because the guide must transition, because a new guide was needed to withstand the waves? She’d also claimed the blade had memories and that I would relive them, that I would play my part? I’d already shared the blade’s dreams and found them unpleasant. I did not want them made real.

And then she’d offered a name or title, to the owner of the forest altar, some wild power. That Which Hungers. It was no god of the Old World that I knew and was too darkly titled to be one of the new gods. Just calling the name to mind seemed to cause the blade and knife to stir, to grow agitated.

I told Cera of all this. Verena and Pella too, anyone that would listen. I asked that Lio be made aware of the Hunter’s threats. Maybe the ashen curls, who spoke in hints and whispers, could decipher the words of one who teases only the shadows of knowledge. Cera promised it would be done, that she would relay. 

Cera was concerned that the hunter still lived, that she could not even be killed, but so long as she was prisoner inside the forest, trapped within the knife, as I asserted she was, it was a victory. Cera insisted that I should retain the knife and sheath, should be the one to stand guard and prevent the hunter’s escape since I was the one that had bested her. I accepted but, in truth, I wasn’t so sure I would prevail if we clashed a third time. I had only found ‘victory’ through retreat, abandoning her to the woods. I would do all that I could to keep her there, to avoid any need to again face her.

But on the other things, That Which Hungers, the torches, the vines, Cera had no insight. She trusted my instinct and shared my apprehension over the foreboding implications, but she did not know the significance of these words. She promised to try to find out though, to make inquiry. There were many she could ask.

Then there was the blade and the knife, Lightdrinker. What had the hunter called them, “forge mates?” They seemed less hostile towards each other now that I’d learned to store them away from one another. Learned to give them less reasons to growl or hiss as, once started, they would not cease until I had again separated them. 

Roll: Forge a Bond, Lightdrinker – Weak Hit => Reroll – Strong Hit (Reuniting the knife with its sheath and closing the thread has earned a little wary trust from them. I didn’t realize I was even doing them a service.)

My reflections paused as Pella and I reached the fence, the edge of the grounds, where the trees just started to thicken. We stopped in the cool shade beside the river and I finally looked up to her. She had stopped humming long ago and I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed she was watching me. She looked almost anxious, like she was trying to get up the courage to tell me something. Oh no.

And then she said it. “Hob, we’re leaving. Tonight.”

It grew even harder to breathe. But I had known this might happen and so recovered quickly. “Where? I will join!”

A warm reassuring smile. “You can barely walk, and not fast nor far. You know you need to rest.” She leaned in to kiss me across the cheek. “Besides, it won’t be long, and if you quit prodding your wound, it might even be healed by the time I return.”

My eyes dropped to my arm in its sling, unfeeling and alien, and I knew that she was right. I could not go and they could not wait, she could not stay. But I did not have to like it. The last few days had been the most I’d seen her since I had left the Sustainers to stand under Cera’s banner and I was not ready for it to end.

“Hey!” She playful drew my eyes back to her’s and flashed that brash smirk, and that was enough. This was Pella, seeking her truths was important to her, whether she knew what it was she sought or not, and I would be happy for her.

“But where are you going? I told you I could not handle you leaving me and not knowing where to.”

Roll: Oracle, Will Pella volunteer their destination? Likely – Yes; Gather Information, +1 for bond – Strong Hit

Oracle: Valley, lair, waterfall, blighted, flooded. A flooding valley? That’s interesting. hunt/deliver passage/eliminate.

And then she told me. “To the west, near the Wilds. A new Pillar has been found!”

“Another Pillar!?” Near the Wilds!?

She nodded, eager to share more.

“West, past the lumber camp and the old trails, only taking the forks to the north until the last trail ends and the mountains begin. Then, through a pass, lies a flooded valley and in it, a Pillar!”

I had not expected such detail, had guessed she would have been kept in the dark as before. 

“You know all this? Did Mira tell you?” 

“Nope. She’d heard a Pillar had been found but knew no more. That’s why we prepared for a possible journey. I found out where it was. I told her.” She beamed proudly, “Bryn told me.” 

“Your free warden friend!? He is a spy!” She snorted, a joyful outburst. “How did he know?”

Her laughter subsided but the excitement remained, “I don’t know how he learned of it, but one of Sayer’s scouts found the Pillar. They are apparently building some sort of special ship. One that requires some rare tree that only grows near the true wilds. They’ve been sending scouts west to locate them, and then teams to harvest once found. One of those scouts stumbled upon the valley. Sayer has ensured that few know. They’re trying to keep it secret. They know the knowledge has value.”

Her enthusiasm was contagious, I liked to see her like this. I liked it when she had stories to tell. When she was inspired and focused, not bored and idle, as I’d seen her when we’d snuck away to the hills before I confronted the hunter. 

“Thank you for telling me. It is a comfort to know.”

“When it’s my knowledge, *winking slyly* I can share as I please.” Then that proud beam again. “Hob, this could be important. Bryn said the valley was so deep that it completely hid the Pillar, that there was no sign of it until the scout stumbled upon it. No one has been there, there may be new truths to find. We may learn some of her stories!”

I gripped her shoulder with my good arm, “You will learn her stories, Pella.”

Roll: Oracle, Did any other Iron Priest camps already learn of this? 50-50 – Yes (uh oh); Was it the Gray Sentinels? 50-50 – No (oh shit, that means it was most likely the other big one).

The beam faded but her fervor did not. “We won’t be the first though, the Resurrectors will. Some snuck away during the night, unnoticed until Mokhel observed the emptiness of their camp. Scarred Ishana hasn’t been seen for a while now either, so even she must be with them. We aren’t sure when exactly they left but it’s clear now their destination. They will beat us to it but they will not deny us. We go in force, Hob. Even Teegan will join. That’s the only reason we haven’t pulled out yet, more will be coming and so more need to pack. We leave at dusk.”

I squeezed her shoulder, now healed and strong, as reassuringly as I was able. “Pella, whether first or second, you will still learn her stories. And then you will tell them to me.”

Her mossy eyes glistened and she embraced me, careful of my wound, though I would not have felt it if she wasn’t. And we shared a moment in the shade by the river Bas, too short but just long enough. We had been able to say our farewells and I felt lucky for it. 

Afterwards, Pella walked me back to the Longhouse. On the way, I asked her to repeat the path they took, and then repeat it again, and tried my best to remember. West along the old trails, always to the north, and then through a pass to the flooded valley. I would know where to find her.

And then Pella was gone, one final flash of that daring smirk before she left Autumnrush, and the days grew hotter still while the moon continued to wane.

---

Over the coming days, the numbness from my wound faded, and as it did so, came the pain. And with the pain came more of Willa’s pungent paste. Her treatment was effective though and my shoulder was healing, even if it was all I could smell. Somehow both so spicy that it overwhelmed the senses and yet so earthy that the scent never faded.

I still required plenty of sleep and so had not yet mended to the point of restlessness or boredom. Not quite recovered enough that I’d begun to miss Pella in earnest.

And then the biggest surprise came to visit. While I was resting from my mid-day wander along the boundaries of the grounds, Nisas walked through the main entry of the longhouse, and beside him strode Elstan of Whitbarrow! He was in Autumnrush, the hazy memories from my recovery at Mouth’s Watch had spoken truth!

He appeared almost like a merchant, wearing thin but well-woven linens with colorful patterns, not the sturdy sailor’s cloth he’d worn when I first met him. He still walked with purpose though, with resolve. As he strode past the hearth towards me, I recovered from my surprise and we locked our sword and axe arms in greeting. I had thought of him often since we’d parted in Stoneharber, the first companion I’d battled beside, and now he was here.

“Hob of the Gate! It’s good to see you awake and walking.”

“Elstan of Whitbarrow! It was you! You are in Autumnrush!”

“I am indeed!” He chuckled, “Task has brought me east. I’m surprised you remember my arrival at all, you were more dreaming than awake. I’m glad to see you well!”

“Aye, we come bearing gift.” Nisas unslung a large sack from his shoulder and set it upon the hearthtable. “Lio is not yet ready to leave the fort but he sends exchange for your efforts, gratitude for breaking the ritual and imprisoning the assassin.”

Opening the sack, he removed piece after piece of a suit of sturdy leather armor and laid them out on the hearthtable in front of me. Sailor’s wargear!

A gift! Armor! I was overcome. I’d never owned a set of armor. Sometimes Uncle Temyr had let Bastien and I play with his chain shirt, but he was a much larger man and it had hung all the way down to my knees. This looked like a much better fit!

After giving me a moment to take it in, Nisas teased, “You clearly need it. You almost got yourself killed without any.” He nodded to the shield arm in its sling. “Lio insisted that you accept it, as thanks for being his savior. As an acceptance of friendship.”

This is what Lio asks of me before we forge a bond, on account of the weak hit rolled earlier. He wants me to accept him as a friend publicly, to wear his gift. To show that I recognize his gratitude for my deeds. Narratively, this also gives me an opportunity to purchase an asset that is probably long overdue.

Purchase Asset: Ironclad – Lightly Armored (+1 to Endure Harm in a fight and +1 Momentum on a hit)

My shoulder had healed just enough that I could move my arm without pain, so long as I did so slowly and without weight. So I immediately removed the sling and attempted to don the armor, clumsily struggling to lift the chest plates with one arm, before Elstan jumped in to help, placing and fitting the pieces for me.

It was perfect! The leathers worn by the warcrews of the Reach and Barrier, by Nisas and his crew, by those that need protection from blade and fang, but also must climb and swim to survive. Thin but sturdy plates of leather, overlapping with each other to provide thicker protection while still segmented enough to bend with movement, not to hinder it. They did not feel heavy or limiting, I would still strike first and often while wearing them, and they were indeed thick enough around the chest and shoulders that there was a truth to Nisas’s teasing, they very well might have turned the hunter’s blade. 

Nisas joked about me joining the Starving Wolf since I was already dressed for the role, Elstan adjusted the straps and ties, and even Cera, who was returning to her quarters from the grounds, paused to remark on how well the armor suited me.

I was overjoyed with the gift but feared aggravating the wound with too much movement or weight, even though it was indeed light. Pella’s words held wisdom, “Trust me, it’s best to just leave it be.” So, I thanked them, requesting they carry my gratitude back to Lio, and then I asked Elstan to help me remove the armor and stow it in my room.

Roll: Oracle, Are Nisas and Elstan bonded? 50/50 – Yes; Action/Theme – Focus Love (Well that seems pretty clear)

Afterwards, we sat on the dock, dipping our feet in the river Bas to cool ourselves while we drank the afternoon away. Nisas draped his large arm over Elstan’s shoulders and they leaned closer against each other with each drink. Their connection seemed established, secure and comfortable, casual in their affection. I was surprised by the discovery, the coincidence, that two of the maybe half dozen people that I knew from the Reach happened to be bonded, and likely had been the whole time I’d known either of them.

I related to Nisas the tale of how Elstan and I met, of the chase and battle in the tides against the raiders and wind wielding mystic to avenge his kin and crew. With each nod to Elstan’s resolve and bravery (there were many), he blushed, causing Nisas to erupt in laughter and squeeze his shoulders. 

They told me how they’d met, years ago in Tidewater, when the Starving Wolf provided escort to Elstan’s kinships during their journey to Autumnrush. How since that voyage, they had been separate frequently, more often than not, but reunited every time Elstan’s kin returned here with shipment. He affirmed how it bolstered his spirits to have a partner on one leg of the journey and home on the other, always something to look forward to regardless of his destination. Neither seemed distraught about their circumstances. It forced me to reflect. The thought of being removed from Pella for weeks terrified me but these two had faced worse, routinely, and they were content.

Roll: Forge a bond, Nisas, +1 Storyweaver (telling him the tale of how I aided his partner in his quest for vengeance) – Weak Hit => Reroll (saving Lio and my friendship with Elstan count for something) – Strong Hit

And after these stories, Nisas and I were closer, a shared bond being worthy of goodwill. I asked Elstan of his ship, of Kalidas and the handful of others that had survived the ambush. Whether they had made it back to Whitbarrow, whether he had uncovered the motive for the Red Brog attack, and why he had returned to Autumnrush so quickly?

Oracle: Settlement Trouble – roll twice, families in conflict and innocent is accused; action/theme – persevere fellowship

I didn’t understand or don’t remember much of what he told me (the drink had warmed my shoulder but dulled my head), most of the tales involving names and circles I did not know. But I learned that they had indeed made it back to Whitbarrow, and when they returned, they had found chaos. There had been a death, a child of one on the council, and one of Elstan’s kin had been accused of the murder by a rival family. There had been little evidence to support the claims and the community had split into two camps, either demanding justice or proclaiming innocence along family lines and marriage loyalties. The circle would be split and torn regardless of whatever judgment was made so Elstan had come to Autumnrush to resolve the issue, to “preserve the circle”. I did not know how he intended to do so, but it seemed that he believed Lio could assist in the endeavor. I still did not well understand how the circles of Western Reach interconnected, how their authorities and identities were balanced. Where the circle ended and the Reach began. Or how much sway the Guide actually held in Whitbarrow.

I did understand the smolder in Elstan’s eyes though. I remembered it from the footpaths and blood spilt outside of Stoneharbor. He had task and purpose and he would see it through. I said as much and he thanked me, offering that I should visit him when I’d recovered if I wished. That his task required proximity to friends and he might better explain things when sober. I told him I would think on the offer, and then we moved on to less serious but equally important topics, like bragging and personal glories.

Nisas boasted of sea battles, of Tidemark’s continuous wars against the raiders that stalked the far edges of the Reach. How he and the warcrew of the Starving Wolf had stormed the island fort of Desha the Stubborn and dismantled it so no future raidcaptains might inherit it after her death. I countered with my own tales of victories over Haf and the harrow brood that encroached upon Brokefall. He responded with claim to have seen a leviathan, relating how it had chased the Wolf and they’d only been able to outrun it because Kara favored them and had fanned her shield to throw the wind against their backs. I drunkenly laughed at the tale, I liked his telling but believed not a word.

We continued to drink and tell stories until it was almost dusk and they needed to return to the docks to ferry back to Mouth’s Watch, as the streets were still less than safe at night. We said our goodbyes and Elstan repeated his offer to visit, a veiled and noncommittal request for aid in matters I did not yet fully understand. I repeated my promise to do so when able. And then they were gone and I was sleepy from drink.

---

Roll: Heal, Willa’s pungent paste – Weak Hit

More days passed and my wound improved even further, thanks to Willa’s pungent paste. It was still a little numb and the pain still came with effort, but I was close to recovered. Close enough that I wondered what I might do after I’d fully mended, toying with whether I might convince Cera to let me try and catch up with Pella and the Sustainers. My shoulder was strong enough that I could don and remove the warcrew leathers by myself, even lightly train on the grounds for short times so long as I forced myself to stop before the soreness started.

“It was a kind gift. It fits you well and filled a need.”

Cera had approached while I was focused on the blade and stood admiring me, battle ready and armored.

I sheathed the blade, just tired enough to know that I should be stopping anyways. I had not had many opportunities to speak with Cera recently, with her busy guiding the interests of Longbridge and me untasked and recovering.

“Thank you, Cera.”

“You know he wishes to collar you with it, or at least appear to, right? Only warcrew from the Reach wear those leathers. If you display them, you’ll be seen to be one with the Reach, to be aligned with Lio, and he will profit from your honor.” Then a sigh. “It’s my own fault though, I should have equipped you better so that such an obvious need could not be exploited, I allowed him the opening for such a gift.”

Roll: Test Your Bond, Cera – Weak Hit, must prove loyalty, what does she ask of me? (bolster ally/opinion, in the crossfire)

There was irritation under her glib words, Cera of Longbridge was jealous? It seemed so petty for someone that wielded such authority, so frivolous. But also so dangerous, I’d seen her angry before and I did not want to again. Not over receiving a gift.

“But you did equip me, through the balestone you reunited me with my blade, the only reason that we prevailed against the hunter.”

“Yes yes, of course.” She waved the gratitude away. Equipping me wasn’t the point, appearing to share me, her bannersworn, was the problem. “I will speak plainly, Basira. I know you refuse to be collared and I accept that, but if you are to be sworn to my banner, you will not wear the gifts of my rivals. If it’s armor you need, you will have it, but not in the style of those I am frequently at odds with.”

Was she telling me I could not accept the gift of friendship from Lio, that I must return the leathers and insult his offering? This seemed beneath her. 

Then her eyes flashed as they so often did when she envisioned a new opportunity.

“Or, now this is better, you will accept it. You will wear Lio’s gift but you must also carry my banner. You will bear the wyvern and it will be clear that, though my rivals honor you, you chose to honor me most of all. Yes, that will make it clear.”

Very petty indeed, the Three wielded gifts as weapons. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say, I looked at the banner of Longbridge hanging over the end of the hearth, behind her arbitor’s stool. It was massive, the wyvern’s vermillion wings outstretched, legs and claws extending towards some unseen prey.

So I acted as if I thought she made a joke, “I imagine a banner can get pretty heavy, hard to carry a shield and swing a blade with one as well.”

Her eyes flared at my senselessness. “No, not an actual banner! On a pole!? Gods! Are you planning to lead my father’s warband on a raid? Truly, Basira? No, on a shield or something. Practical but displayed.”

I chuckled at the teasing, relieved that the demand ended up being trivial.

“Aye, I will carry your shield.” Kormak had grown attached to Haf’s shield anyways, having had it for so long. I would gladly take another.

“Ideal.” Happy now.

This satisfies the previous Weak Hit on Test Your Bond. She is fine with the gift so long as it is clear that I stand under HER banner and not Lio’s.

Her agitation gone, Cera turned to other topics while I busied myself removing the armor. “I know you wanted to go with them but I’m glad you did not. She, they are competent, you would only have slowed them down and endangered yourself in that condition.”

“I know, Pella thought the same.”

“You know that one doesn’t need a bodyguard, right?”

Yes, I knew. Pella was daring and fierce, Pella was unbothered and capable. Pella was perfect. But I was not and I had fears. Fears from under the Beacon. Fears of losing her again in the darkness, of not being able to find her when she cried for me. Those were not things one puts to words though, so I ignored the question.

“Do you know where they go?”

“Aye, and I know that they were not the first to leave. That Sayer’s favored will get there before them.”

Sayer’s favored? The Resurrectors? Of course, how else would they have learned of the scout’s discovery before Brynn had informed Pella.

“The Resurrectors are aligned with Sayer? Is that why you support the Sustainers, the rivals of your rival’s favored?”

A smile of pleasant surprise. “You’re starting to learn how things work. But no, I support them because I believe they are right. We have not truly thrived since we came to these lands.”

Looking behind her to the massive longhouse and its ornate carvings, I almost laughed at Cera of Longbridge claiming her kin had not prospered in the Ironlands but caught myself. She saw where I gazed and knew my thoughts so clarified, her tone becoming more passionate as she spoke. 

“Even in the Havens, where there is plenty, the dangers have never left. They’ve grown worse when they should have lessened. The lands do not accept us, they do not grow calm in our presence. Beasts and horrors never leave for long, always returning, always. Mystics speak of dark omens and the clans have grown warlike out of fear, looking to their neighbors, hoping to secure themselves from threats still in the shadows. Our homes will continue to sicken unless we learn to sustain ourselves, to earn our place here. Until then, all is fragile.”

I was taken aback by her explanation, she spoke as Pella did.

“You’re a Sustainer!? You have taken me by surprise, I had not guessed you to be one of the faithful, of any of the faiths. I had thought your and their interests were aligned more materially.”

Cera sighed a soft chuckle, and when she responded her voice had returned to its usual glibness. 

“Oh no, you thought correctly. I am no Sustainer. It is purely material. If you remove faith from their words and their work though, there is truth. We need to understand the Pillars, we need to understand our home better. The old paths are overgrown, trampled by the Skulde. We can walk them no longer and must find new trails to traverse. The elders and those before have ignored these new routes long enough. I will no longer wait for this land to expel us, we will earn its favor.”

With that, she nodded to me and passed onward towards the dock, where a boat was arriving from the Havens for inventory before entering the port.

And that is when I learned Cera had a purpose, beyond inventories and negotiations. I did not know what she meant by “new routes” but it clearly involved the Pillars and the Sustainers’ studies. I hoped she was right, that we pursued paths to plenty instead of roads to ruin, but I knew for certain that there were threats in the shadows, named but not yet known. And if we were to navigate the horrors the hunter foretold, the dreams (memories?) of the blade, without losing our way, then we may need to blaze new trails to do so.

---

And the moon continued to fade until it died and was reborn, a moment of darkness before its cycle renewed. The wound continued to improve, the pain only flaring when I overexerted myself, and I found myself restless.

It was dusk and Verena and I had just finished building the bonfire. The summer nights were still too hot for need of flame but I had a purpose and she had been bored. I could not harm the hearthflame, it having burned since Cera had brought its coals from Longbridge, so we’d built one outside, on the grounds between the longhouse and dock.

The flames stoked and wood alight, we stepped away from the heat. It was good to spend time with Verena, she had remained changed since we’d entered the twilight forest and she’d been forced to acknowledge and weather her fears. Still dark and observant, less petty and arrogant. Even her face was different now, long and relaxed instead of pinched, her eyes sharper, more apt to dart from movement to movement than idly brood. But most noticeably, she was still honest and practical, no longer controlled by her pride.

“I think you should follow her. Things are calmer now. With the Guide’s truce restored, Sayer is less likely to do anything foolish, in the port at least. But if they support that rival camp, the one that left first, then someone should be there to make sure their plots are foiled. There’s no way Sayer’s designs would benefit us if achieved, whatever they are.”

I had not thought of that, that there were good reasons to follow them that didn’t involve my heart or my sorrow. 

“Aye, I want to but there is still danger here, though it remains in the shadows. Do you think Cera would allow it?”

“I have no clue. Likely not.” Then that grim chuckle. “You do seem to have a habit of doing whatever you want without asking anyways, and somehow never being cast out for it. So I wonder why you would even ask at all, young and witless as you are.”

Ok, so maybe a little of the pettiness remained. She was right about Sayer and the Resurrectors though, Cera might be swayed. As if speaking her name had summoned her, Cera stepped out of the Longhouse to join us.

“I appreciate that you heeded my ask and did this outside. I thought I might like to witness it.”

I nodded and smirked, “Well let us hope there is something to witness then. I truly have no clue how any of this works.”

The smirk brought a chuckle, not frequently heard from the Daughter of Longbridge. “Don’t disappoint me, Basira. I was promised a display of ritual.”

And her chuckle brought about one of my own, as her infectious will tended to do. “You will likely be disappointed then because I would never promise such a thing.”

And as the sun finished setting and the moonless sky grew dark, as I removed Lightdrinker from my belt and lifted it before me, we were interrupted by a display of a different sort. One both incredible and terrifying.

A reverberating crack and rumble from the distance past the river, as if a lightning strike was followed by thunder. Then, from beyond the horizon, bloomed the aurora. Tendrils of bright transparent greens, vibrantly pulsing and dancing across the skies from the west. From the Wilds. From Pella! From the Pillar!

I stared in awe and horror. “Vines erupting outward…”

Cera completed the thought, her voice stunned and soft, “…strangling the world.” And then louder, with alarm, “Basira! The hunter! These were her words!?”

It could be nothing else. It was as she had threatened, or was it warned? And it left me with no other choice, only one path to follow. I thrust Lightdrinker forward, one hand on sheath and one on hilt, towards the fire, towards the tendrils, towards Pella.

And I took the vow.

“I will follow the vines to their heart and uproot them, prevent them from strangling the world. Prevent the horrors the hunter foretold.” And then silently but louder, “And I will find you, Pella, and make sure you are safe!”

And with that, I drew the knife from the sheath, letting it drink from the flames. And as the bonfire was consumed and the night claimed its light, the aurora grew brighter. I resheathed Lightdrinker, returning it to my belt, and without another word, strode away from Verena and Cera back to the longhouse and my room.

I needed to prepare. I was leaving that night.

Roll: Swear an Iron Vow, Uproot the Vines, Formidable, +1 bond with Cera – Strong Hit, emboldened and clear what must be done

Reveal a Threat: The Blossoming Aurora

Roll: Swear an Iron Vow, Find Pella and make sure she is safe, Troublesome, +1 bond with Pella (whether she hears the vow or not, it was to her) – Strong Hit

Roll: Lightdrinker (capture flame’s essence), Wits – Weak Hit, 3 light track

Roll: Resupply – Miss => Burn Momentum – Strong Hit (getting back up to 4/5/5 before embarking on these vows seemed like a worthy reason to burn momentum)

Wow, that was a lot of important time with friends and a heck of a lot of oracle rolls but I think it was worth it. Hob now has a path forward and a threat has revealed itself. Ironsworn is so good! Next, probably some scary and dangerous shit, hope Hob gets there in time.