Hob faces the first obstacle in her journey to uproot the blossoming aurora and save Pella, just getting out of town.

---

I stood atop the old earthen wall, beyond Torren’s Square and the western limits of Autumnrush. I did not know the history of the embankment but guessed it had been built after the first landings, after the Broken and the First War. From the wall, now nothing more than a worn-down hill, I looked down upon the outskirts of Sayer’s camp. I would have to go around or through it to reach the old trails that led west to the Wilds, towards the heart of the aurora. Unfortunately, every person in all of Autumnrush and its outskirts, including those in the lumber camp, were awake and outdoors now. Thousands of people staring to the night sky, towards the vivid green tendrils dancing from the west. It would be difficult to pass the camp unnoticed.

Before I’d left the grounds, Cera had asked if Verena should come with. I told her it was still too dangerous in the port to rob her of her bodyguard. The hunter had spoken of torches that would be set alight, flames that needed fuel. Verena had agreed, her purpose was to “protect the lady”. Then a reassuring hand to my shoulder, “Hob, stop this.” A simple expression of faith and support.

I’d also let Kormak know that he could keep Haf’s shield, as gratitude for trading me the gear I needed as I needed it. He seemed attached to the shield and had enjoyed the story of my victory in acquiring it, even if his hard eyes refused to betray his interest. He’d asked me to retell the tale twice since we’d first exchanged and so he should have it. I kept his cloak though, and took back my pack blanket. I would need those in the journey ahead.

Roll: Oracle, is the aurora bright enough to illuminate Autumnrush? 50/50 – Yes 

Roll: Face Danger, Wits, the streets are still dangerous at night – Weak hit, you are delayed

Though there was no moon in the sky, the aurora was so intense that the port and camp were lit as if under one that was full. So, after leaving the grounds, I’d stuck to the emptier side streets, where fewer people meant less might recognize me. I had not crossed many and those I had seemed too pre-occuppied with the lights to notice me, but the indirect route had cost me time, taking much longer to reach the bridge across the Bas and skirt around Torren’s Square to finally leave Autumnrush and reach the western wall.

I admired my warcrew leathers, fitted and sharp. Then I reached back and tapped the new shield strapped to my back, bearing the vermillion wyvern of Longbridge. It was stiff and sturdy. Last, I moved my hands to the bone grip of the blood-stained blade and the ebony hilt of Lightdrinker to confirm they were at my side, as if I could have forgotten to bring either. Both stirred from their slumber at my touch and their wakening murmurs roused my resolve. I was ready.

Pulling the cloak over my head, I stepped forward and descended the old earthwork down towards Sayer’s lumber camp and the Wilds beyond, towards Pella.

Roll: Oracle, can I easily go around the camp without notice? 50/50 – No (guess that means I need to go through it)

The camp was huge, sprawling across the lumbered hills, and the path from the port led right through the center of it. I didn’t feel I could waste time skirting to the north to bypass it. These hills had long ago been taken of any tree that might veil my passage and I would need to go too far off the road not to be seen and draw suspicion under these dancing lights. It would take too long, and I wanted to put as much distance as possible between me and the camp before dawn to lessen the chances of crossing paths with one of Sayer’s scouts or timber crews the next day. Mostly though, I was too impatient to skulk. I just needed to act, to move towards my purpose directly. It was impossible to do otherwise.

So I descended the path into the heart of Sayer’s camp. I did not try to conceal the shield on my back, the banner of Longbridge. I strode forward, daring anyone to be foolish enough to get in my way. To try and impede my vow.

Roll: Secure an Advantage, Iron – Miss (big surprise); Pay the Price – delay or disadvantage

I was challenged before I even reached the camp. A well-built woman stood sentry at the outskirts, axe on her belt. I guess this was to be expected.

“Hold! What is your purpose!”

“I’m leaving the port and following the path that does so. Let me pass.”

She sneered, “At night? The dark is dangerous these days. Honest folk do not travel at night, and not geared for battle like you.”

I had as little patience for discussion as I did for skulking. A sneer of my own in response, “But it isn’t dark. The sky is torn and ablaze, in case you hadn’t noticed. I will not be delayed further. Now will you stand aside and let me walk this road or do I need to go around your camp? Either way I will reach the path on the other side.”

Roll: Compel, Heart, +1 Honorbound hard truth (I don’t need to identify myself or state my purpose, I can just go around them) – Strong Hit

The thought of me prowling the edges of camp, where sentries may not watch, seemed less preferable to the woman. She huffed hard through her nose, nostrils flaring in frustration.

“Fine, there is a levy though, to maintain the trails. What can you exchange?”

Of course there would be a toll. “Nothing. I will exchange nothing. Either let me pass or don’t.” And I stepped to the north as if leaving the path to go around. 

Before I’d reached the grass, the sentry surrendered with an irritated groan, somewhere between a grunt and sigh.

“It is better we are rid of you than have you skulking around the fringes. Batah!” She called to a man who had been approaching from the camp to see what was going on. “Escort this woman through the camp and see her on her way. Do not let her off the path.”

The man stopped, eyeing me cautiously from a distance before motioning for me to step forward.

“Aye, let’s go then.”

Batah was lean and wary, covered in worn thick leather and carrying a handaxe and long knife on his belt. I wondered if this was one of Sayer’s scouts. He looked as though he spent more time in the wilds than in a tent.

Roll: Face Danger, Heart – Miss, new danger or foe; Oracle, Is it Sayer? Likely – Yes (of course it is)

I stepped forward, anticipating the sentry’s quiet gasp as I walked by, as the wyvern on my back came into her view and she realized whose banner I stood under. I readied myself for her challenge but it never came.

Batah waited for me to pass before trailing at a safe distance. To his credit, he did not gasp when he must have seen the shield. In fact, he made no sound at all, not even with his steps. He was a quiet man and I was not fond of him following behind me.

Many would call it foolish to enter the heart of a camp of woodcutters and shipbuilders without even trying to conceal the banner of their rival. They would be wrong though, it was not foolish, it was foolhardy. And if I’m being honest, part of me was itching for a fight, even if it was a fight I might not likely win. My task would not be hindered. If they would stand in my way, let them do so now instead of later. 

The wide path was flanked by tents and rough workshops on either side. I could see the skeletons of new ships to the south near the shores of the fjord. To the north lay piles of lumber, both logs and planks. And all around on both sides were campfires. Campfires and people, all staring and speculating skyward until I passed, then silently glaring in my wake as they saw the shield and the wyvern. A quick glance behind showed that some had joined Batah in following me, unfriendly faces all.

A heavier man walking my way looked to the armor and blade on my belt, and then over my shoulder towards Batah. His eyes widened before he spun around to hurry back the way he had come, entering a large tent with ornately carved poles that was just off the path.

I looked back to Batah and received an aloof shrug in response. I had guessed a hand signal of some sort, or maybe he had mouthed something. Regardless, I understood what would come next and had I been a wiser woman, I might have started to regret the situation I had marched myself into.

I continued along the path and, as we neared the large tent, the flaps parted and a willowy figure emerged. Their pewter hair was cropped short on the sides, workclothes were lithe and fitted, and a sword hung from their belt. This had to be Sayer the Shipbuilder, descended from the port’s first landers and rival to Cera of Longbridge and Lio the Guide. Behind them, exited the heavier man from before and a woman dressed in traveler’s rags with knotted runes tattooed across her face. 

Sayer spoke loudly, addressing the entire camp. “And so enters Cera’s hound, *scoffing at my sailor’s wargear* or is it Lio’s dog now? Basira of Sota’s Gate, her cursed blade at her side! But why is she here?”

The blade stirred, chattered and growled, fixated on the sword on Sayer’s belt. It looked like a fine sword, even if a bit smaller than mine, with scabbard and hilt fully engraved, both wood and iron. I wondered if this was the sword Sayer had commissioned Cadigan to forge. Pretty as it was, I could sense no thread though, no reason for the blade to be so agitated.

I refocused and took a deep breath before responding. And when I did, I matched Sayer’s tone, forceful and wide.

“You know why I take this path, Sayer. Look to the sky, look to the direction I travel.” In case they needed further clarity, I raised my arm and pointed past them towards the dancing tendrils and heart of the aurora. “Will you try to stop me? Or will you step aside, allow me and my ‘cursed blade’ to walk the path?” In case they needed further clarity towards my disposition, a hint towards how I would respond to any who attempted to impede me.

Roll: Compel, Iron, +1 Honorbound hard truth (choosing to waylay me will mean facing the blood-stained blade) – Weak Hit, ask something in return, it is stressful; Endure Stress (-1), Spirit (4) – Weak Hit

I don’t think Sayer asking for something in return necessarily fits best for the narrative so I am going to instead interpret that weak hit as a different sort of complication and a minor pay the price.

Foolhardy or not, there was an anxiety in the moment after speaking those words, an understanding that they very well might accept my challenge. The bone grip pined for my hand but I waited for response, it was not yet time.

Sayer said nothing, lifting their palms skyward as if weighing something in each hand. They cocked their head to the right and, as they did so, lowered their right hand as if the weight it carried had grown heavier. Then they tilted their head to the left and its invisible weight grew heavier while the right’s rose back to its initial position. They continued to mimic a scale for some time, as if measuring the merits of stopping me or letting me pass. It was for the camp’s benefit, the woodcutters and shipbuilders chuckled in anticipation. I loathed it, it was mockery. I ignored them and focused on what was to come, there would be no more laughter once the blade was drawn.

And then Sayer finally tired of their performance and, flashing a cunning grin, stepped to the side of the path with a flourish, sweeping their arms past them as if inviting me to pass. 

“Why would I try to stop you? In fact, I am going that way myself.”

I did not move, kept my feet wide and ready, it felt like deception, like ruse or ploy.

My reply bled with suspicion. “Are you now? For what purpose?” 

Roll: Gather Information, Wits, +1 from Compel – Strong Hit (I think this will make sense in the narrative as Hob learning information based off of Sayer’s subtle cues and body language as opposed to a question and answer)

They shrugged, “I don’t know, same reason as you likely. To investigate the lights dancing across the sky. It seems important, does it not?”

Roll: Oracle, Does Sayer know more about the blossoming aurora than they let on? 50/50 – No (interesting.)

Maybe it was just the way their artful smile melted as they said the words, but I felt they spoke truth. That they knew no more about the origins and purpose of the aurora and its tendrils than I. Maybe less even. “You don’t look prepared for journey.”

“Truth, we set out in the morning. I was just getting packed.” The grin returned. “But Batah and Delos are leaving tonight, to scout ahead.” They looked over my shoulder to the lean man that had been my shadow through the camp. “Isn’t that right, Batah? Do you soon depart?”

“Aye, momentarily. We are kitted and ready. Just need to collect our gear.”

Their clever gaze returning to me, “How fortunate, maybe you three could travel together for a time, for safety. The trails can be perilous at night.”

Roll: Oracle, This is a threat, right? 50/50 – Yes

I rolled my eyes skyward, another performance. “There’s plenty of light to find my way. I’ll be fine. Goodbye, Sayer.”

And with that, I strode forward, hand inching closer to the bone grip, anticipating ambush. But nobody barred the path, nobody attacked my rear. The blade remained sheathed. And as I passed Sayer, they winked at me, “See you there.”

I hushed the blade, we would not be baited. Instead, I offered a smirk of my own. “Can’t wait.” And then I looked forward and walked, increasing my pace as soon as I’d left the tents and workshops and began ascending the western hills towards the forest in the far distance. If they had spoken truth, I would soon have two scouts on my trail and I hoped to put as much distance as possible between me and the camp before they set out.

Mark Progress: Uproot the Vines – Navigate Autumnrush and its dangers to start the journey to the flooded valley, 1 Progress