A Dark Turn
How important a moment can be. Fun and games just seconds ago, now mayhem. Qarzdaq bleeding out on the dark cobblestone road. Aran, focused on those most helpless, directs their female companions to run.
Still, could it be just chance that their one magic user with Darkvision is now down? Is it chance that the next target was the one who hits his foes hardest? Chance is but a fool’s explanation of happenings they have not yet fully understood. Perhaps fate has finally called in its price.
Quickly, they look for cover. The nearby doorsteps might provide some, but certainly not enough for all of them. Looking back towards the castle, silhouettes run from their current position. All but one. This one takes a few steps towards them.
UNKNOWN: Guys! This way!
He’s no more than forty feet from them and away from the attacker. He jumps towards a building along the left side of the road. The unmistakable sound of a creaky door opens quickly.
UNKNOWN: Come on!
Seeing little choice, they all dash towards, what might be, their only way out. Still, this could be a trap. Suddenly a second arrow strikes Aran and he falls to the ground hard.
ORNO: Damn!
Ornogrim tells Hooterz to find the attacker. He then grabs Qarzdaq and breaks for the unknown man waving them over.
ORNO: Qhortho! Grab Aran! He’s down!
Rolan peers into the darkness and casts Darkvision. His eyes quickly adjust and follow Hooterz as he leaves his sight range. Quickly, he scans the street. Seeing no one else nearby, he looks for other places to take cover. He now clearly sees many shallow doorsteps but finds no safe locations for the entire group. He turns to follow Ornogrim and grabs Aran by his shirt as he passes. The weight of his body is too much and the fabric slips from his hands. Qhortho approaches so Rolan leaves Aran behind and chases after Ornogrim.
Qhortho lifts Aran with ease and takes off, passing Rolan and Ornogrim with his long strides. Just as he arrives at the open door of the dark one-story building, an arrow pierces his side and another sinks into his upper thigh. He wavers slightly, but his adrenaline takes hold and he straightens up. Ornogrim slips past him and into the building. Into total blackness.
Qhortho and Rolan squeeze through the doorway as quickly as possible. Some rummaging is heard in the back of the room.
ORNO: Friend. Show yourself.
UNKNOWN: Just a minute, just a minute.
Not expecting a threat here, he turns his back on the man in the darkness and places Qarzdaq on the ground, slumped against the wall. Qhortho places Aran next to Qarzdaq then steps forward with Rolan to protect the group from this unknown “friend.”
Rolan sees a meek man in the darkness feeling around, searching for something. With no weapons nearby, he doesn’t see this man as a true threat, but he has seen the power of gods manifested by men’s hands and does not take this scene entirely at face value.
Behind him, Ornogrim summons a few Goodberries and splits them evenly between Qarzdaq and Aran. They both wake slowly. Ornogrim stands and faces the nearby soft rummaging.
Rolan takes a moment to kneel next to Aran and heal him by the power of the Kraken and returns to his protective stance seconds later.
A small flame splits the darkness and becomes many. A candelabra becomes visible and approaches, illuminating its holder’s face by flickering candlelight.
MAN: Glad I could finally return the favor.
It takes a few more moments before they all realize this is Troy Flowers.
ORNO: Troy?
Qarzdaq and Aran get to their feet.
ORNO: Thank you. Hey guys, I need to warg with Hooterz to see who is attacking us.
He leans his back against the wall and slides down towards the ground. Everyone watches as his eyes go white in transit. Immediately, he jolts awake, spilling onto the floor, writhing in agony and gasping for breath. Troy jumps back in horror causing droplets of wax to splash on the floor.
Ornogrim quickly regains his legs. Aran sees his intent is to rush out into the street and stands in his way. Ornogrim rushes to get through, but Aran blocks him from making such an incredible mistake.
ORNO: HOOTERZ!!!
ARAN: It’s crazy to go back out there! We need to hang out here until we’re back up to strength.
ORNO: I need to get Hooterz! He’s dying! He’s just lying on the ground out there!
ARAN: I get it. It’s just not worth your life or our lives.
Ornogrim stammers at the lack of action. The lack of respect.
ORNO: Hooterz is a part of our party.
ROLAN: And to sacrifice others in our party for the sake of a single animal is not a tradeoff worth making.
ORNO: I need to get Hooterz…
The look of defeated rationalism washes over his face.
ORNO: … but perhaps running right out into the street isn’t the best thing.
ROLAN: We’ll rest, heal our wounds, and when we know it is safe enough, Hooterz will be the first priority.
Ornogrim looks at the ground, the shadows flickering from the candelabra.
ORNO: Hooterz needs to be stabilized immediately. There must be some way.
Ornogrim turns to Rolan and puts a hand on his shoulder.
ORNO: My new friend, I understand what you are saying, but I don’t think you understand the bond that this animal and I have. Leaving him to die is not an option and he will die if I do not intervene.
Ornogrim lowers his head and the shadows slowly swirl around him. He is still visible to everyone standing there, but out in the dark street, he won’t be.
TROY: … but… guys… this is a deathtrap…
Rolan nods in understanding.
ROLAN: I still see this as a mistake, but if you insist on going, I will aid you with Darkvision.
Rolan holds out his hand to shake. Ornogrim looks him in the eyes and slaps his hand into Rolan’s. Rolan blinks deliberately and speaks some foreign words under his breath.
Ornogrim is hit with a flash of bright light before his eyes adjust a moment later. This is familiar to him. It’s like looking through Hooterz’s eyes. This only provides him with a greater drive to get him back.
Ornogrim scans the room and sees a few barrels in the corner. He confidently strides over and snags the lid of the best-looking one. Ornogrim turns to the others, holding the lid as a shield, and opens his mouth to speak. Before he has the chance, Rolan walks past him and grabs a lid for himself.
TROY: … guys… you can’t…
Aran looks at the two of them and shakes his head slowly. Reluctantly, but without being asked, he steps out of the doorway, allowing them to pass.
As the two men walk past Troy, he speaks again.
TROY: Wait… take this.
He unsheathes a small dagger from his belt and hands it to Ornogrim.
ORNO: Thank you.
Ornogrim leads the way, holding his shield out in front as he peeks around the open door. He does not see anyone in the street though his sight range is somewhat limited. He continues around the door, holding the shield just below his eyes and begins the long walk towards Hooterz, towards the attacker.
Rolan follows closely behind. Together they slink out of view of the others. Once they realize the attacker is not shooting yet and knowing Hooterz can’t have much longer, they run for it, still protecting their heads with their makeshift shields.
Up ahead they can see a small lump on the ground under the soft glow of nearby torches. As they finally get over to the sprawled owl, Ornogrim throws his barrel lid to the side and scrambles to his companion. On his knees, he lifts the limp body from the cold stone, his eyes welling in the process.
Ornogrim uses a forceful whisper.
ORNO: Quickly! Heal him!
But he knows it’s too late. Still, he demands it.
Rolan knows too. Still, he tries.
Rolan touches the owl and whispers a few words, but nothing happens. He tries again and nothing. Rolan shakes his head in defeat.
Ornogrim chokes back a sob and motions for them to get back to the group. Rolan nods.
Ornogrim tucks Hooterz under his arm and they run back as quickly as possible. They return to the group about 30 seconds after they left.
ROLAN: He’s gone…
Ornogrim brings Hooterz to the table and takes a seat with his head hanging.
ROLAN: We didn’t see any threats while we were out there, but, Troy, is there another way out of here?
TROY: I’m afraid not. The only exit is the front door. Who in Seven Hells wants you dead??
ARAN: That’s a good question. Think it’s safe to stay here for the night?
TROY: It might be the safest place right now. I certainly don’t want to step outside that door.
ROLAN: What did you see when everything went awry?
TROY: Well, when Aran called out, I just saw that you were in trouble and saw an opportunity to help out. A chance to step up and do something. A chance to do what you guys might do. It was actually by chance that I was even here in Highgarden.
Troy goes on to remind the group about Byff, the man they stopped from assaulting his friend Lorayn. He tells of his travels from Lannisport, tracking and hunting Byff after he was released from the jail. Troy followed Byff from town to town, biding his time until he could kill that sonuvabitch for the greater good. After reaching Highgarden, he thought the opportunity would arise with all the crowds providing good enough cover for the act as well as the cover-up.
TROY: But… before I could act, he struck again. It was some street performer just a couple of days ago… If I had just acted sooner… I lost him yesterday. I’m not sure if he left town or if he’s just holding up someplace, but hiding isn’t this asshole’s style. I figured he’d be at the feast tonight if he’s still in town, just so he could feel important and perhaps find another victim. Tonight was going to be the night. I didn’t see him though.
Aran glances to Qhortho. The candlelight enhances his statuesque appearance.
ARAN: That performer. Was she an armored swordfighter with another woman? Was her name Cora?
TROY: Yes, it was one of those two. I do not know her name.
A moment of silence passes.
TROY: I have to say though… was I wrong about you the first time we met. I saw you guys being knighted. I mean… wow… You have done so much good for the realm.
Troy turns to Ornogrim.
TROY: I’m sorry for your loss, friend.
Ornogrim nods quickly, dismissing the opportunity to talk about it.
They decide it’s time they rest and follow their standard watch rotation until morning.
Jewelry with a Purpose
They awake to find Troy already gone. The sounds on the street indicate it’s just a normal day, but to Ornogrim, it is the first day in years without that animal part of himself. True, Hooterz was a relatively recent entrant in his life, but they were still part of each other. His death was a loss of himself. Time will help, but the wound is fresh, only now clotting with emotion. He must keep care not to neglect these feelings, for if that clot were to break free, it could mean a breakdown in the midst of battle. It could mean the loss of another friend. It could be the loss of himself.
While they prepare to exit this abandoned home, Ornogrim is the first to speak.
ORNO: I would prefer to lay Hooterz at the roots of a weirwood, but I understand that may not be possible. Instead, I am going to bury him outside of the city.
Only then do they realize that Aran is not awake. They spend a few minutes trying to wake him and realize the poison must have some residual effects not cured by their attempts to heal him. However, his vitals seem fine, so they decide it best to just carry him along.
Leaving the dusty old home, they step outside to a sunny, cool day. A drastic shift from the horror of the night before.
They stop by the Deep Onion to leave Aran to rest in his room, they retrieve their gear and meet in the bar room to discuss their next moves.
They know they need to get to the docks for the diplomatic mission to the Iron Islands, but they also need to get to The Order of Sorcery and the Arcane Arts to receive some sort of reward for their recent accomplishments on the Shield Islands.
Qhortho states that he needs to find Cora and ensure her safety.
QHOR: I can’t sit here any longer. I need to find her. I will catch up with you later.
Before they can stop him, he is out the door.
Ornogrim states that he wants to bury Hooterz, which is his highest priority.
ORNO: It won’t take me long at all. I can leave now and meet you at The Order.
They agree and Ornogrim leaves the Deep Onion.
Qarzdaq and Rolan decide they should have a nice meal and be on their way. Before leaving, Rolan flips the man at the front desk a couple of silver coins.
ROLAN: We carried our friend upstairs to his room to rest. If he wakes up before we get back, could you tell him to meet us at the docks?
The man obliges and they leave the Deep Onion, finding themselves at The Order not long after.
Just as they are slowly strolling towards the white pillars outside The Order, Ornogrim comes running to their side, panting as he addresses them.
ORNO: Told you it wouldn’t be long. Seems you guys took your time. Thank you for that. I really did not want to miss this, but you understand.
They agree and are glad he arrived just then.
Qhortho arrives just as they are looking around for this “man they could not miss,” clearly missing him at the moment. Could they be too late? Qhortho says that he could not find Cora but he did buy some nice gifts for her. Before he can tell the full story, he is interrupted by a singsongy voice from near one of the pillars.
MAN: Hey zair. Frentz in high playtzis?
A man with a cropped white beard wearing simple clothes made of tan linen leaning against one of the pillars, though he was not there a moment ago.
MAN: Zee name eetz Gerdok. His Grace askt me to set atzide a few items for you.
He reaches into his pocket and reveals 4 stone rings with a single empty inset on each. He just happened to pull out the exact number of rings for those that stand before him?
GERDOK: Zees are pritty rare. Ringz of Universatility, I call zem. Zey are of my own creation ent I count zem as zee pinnacle of my unique mix of stone working, metalworking, ent a healthy dose of zee higher mysteries.
He winks. He then presses each of the stone rings into their palms, closing their hands tightly. They feel like cool stone at first then gets very hot, though not dangerous to hold.
GERDOK: You may notiz zee warmth in your hand. Zis ist zee bond you now share with your ring.
ORNO: We have one other companion in our group. Is there any way we can have one more for him?
GERDOK: Ah. Zee King did say there would be five. However, zis ist not possible. If you happen to find me at another time, I would be happy to provide a ring to your frent in kind.
ORNO: I see. Where would be the best place to find you later?
He describes the location of a merchant shop where he provides enchantments for the proprietor and tells Ornogrim that the shop is the best place to find him, though he is around at strange hours and is not easy to see.
ORNO: Ok, we will try to find you later then. How do these rings work?
Gerdok tells them that by pressing a gem onto the setting and holding it for 1 minute, it will sink into the stone. The type of gem determines its effect. Some gems provide deep bonuses to the person’s character while others enhance various skills or expertise. He says that the stone will only provide this power for some time before it cracks. Once it cracks, there are only days remaining before it crumbles to dust, at which point the bonus disappears. He says that a stone may also be removed by prying it out and they are surprisingly easy to remove, but they crack in the process.
ORNO: I like your bracelet friend.
He thanks him and briefly describes his time at the Citadel, where he used to seek insights into the higher mysteries and practice the arcane arts. That is, before he was pushed out. He took the links of his master chain and formed them into smaller links to wear as a memory of his time there.
He believes he was removed due to political reasons at a time when they needed a fall-person to make it seem they were stomping out the use of the arcane. He goes on to describe himself as the most well-known arcane practician in town but adds that he was always careful with his applications, emphatic that there was no reason to stop him when they didn’t stop others who were less particular in how they explored the arts. He says he always had a high standard of ethics and never posed a danger to anyone and especially not at the expense of the Citadel’s reputation.
GERDOK: Still I hold no grutdge. Eet gotz me here, right?
The others nod in agreement and in admiration of his general disposition.
ROLAN: Do you keep in touch with the other maesters?
GERDOK: Zey severed all ties with me, but my life here ist much bettah, I must say.
They wrap up the conversation and just before they are about to leave, Ornogrim throws a shot in the dark.
ORNO: Oh! I wonder if you might know something about an attack last night. After the feast, some attacker in the midst of night struck down a few of our friends. Luckily, we were able to recover, but one of our friends is still sleeping it off. We do not know who would bear us any ill will, but we were just knighted last night by His Grace, as you may know.
Ornogrim puffs his chest slightly as he says this. Clearing his throat, he continues.
ORNO: Would you have idea who that might be or who might be behind this?
Gerdok spends a moment thinking.
GERDOK: I’m sorry, I do not.
ORNO: Is there perhaps any less-than-reputable establishments or underground organizations that might be worth enquiring?
GERDOK: I would not be a good source for such information but I am sure there must be some. You may want to simply ask around, but please be careful. You seem to be good people.
They thank him again and begin walking towards the closest gem shop. On their way, Ornogrim begins squeaking to a rat on the side of the road. Just a minute later, the rat jumps into his hand and Ornogrim begins feeding him.
ORNO: Hey guys, meet my new friend, Splinter!
They each tip their brow to the friendly rat and continue on their way, arriving a few minutes later.
The gem shop here in Highgarden has a tremendous stock of high quality gems of all sizes and types. They negotiate a good price on the bulk purchase of many gems and a beautiful silver necklace for Cora.
Cora’s Secret
After finalizing their business, Qhortho splits from the group to find Cora while Ornogrim, Qarzdaq, and Rolan leave for the castle for one last check-in with the king.
Qhortho hastily walks to the area where Cora and Nora perform, pressing his recently-purchased sapphire into his stone ring. He arrives to see that the duo is just setting up for their first performance of the day. Qhortho makes a beeline to speak with her.
QHOR: Cora, my darling!
Cora looks up at him. The bruising around her eye has faded, but she still covers it up with cosmetic paste and powder.
CORA: Qhortho! My love.
QHOR: I have something for you.
He retrieves the fine clothes he purchased earlier and displays it draped over one arm. Cora places her hands over her heart.
CORA: You do too much!
Her eyes well up and two thin tears slowly stream down her face.
QHOR: That is not all my dear. I have a necklace for you as well. The blue stone matches the one in my ring here.
Her face shifts from that of overwhelming joy to guilty regret. Her tears of happiness shift to sadness and she begins to sob.
CORA: Qhortho, I have to tell you something.
QHOR: What is it dear?
Through choked-up words she describes an incident from a few days prior. She was offered a drink from a traveler and she took him up on the offer. She was with Nora and did not feel threatened at the time. However, she did not intend to be intimate with the guy, but her job as a performer relies at least somewhat on the flirtatious nature. Every man must think he at least has a shot, even though her heart belongs to Qhortho.
Still, this man managed to get her away from Nora and crowds and she was assaulted. She tried to fight him off, but he managed to overpower her and rape her. She has been avoiding telling the story because she feels this is her fault for being stupid enough to be in that position in the first place. She apologizes to Qhortho many times over and says she understands if he never wants to see her again.
QHOR: It’s not your fault, but you need to tell me who did this.
CORA: I don’t know his name, but he’s over six feet tall and has dirty blonde hair. Very big and muscular. Seemed the typical bully type.
Qhortho utters the name “Byff” under his breath.
QHOR: Where did this happen?
CORA: The Deep Onion.
Qhortho hugs Cora while gritting his teeth and assures her once again that he does not blame her and she did nothing wrong. He tells her that he must hunt this guy down and make him pay for his crimes.
QHOR: I have to go one a short voyage, but I’ll be back.
He walks away as she continues to sob quietly.
Peeling the Onion
The others arrive at the castle but are blocked from entry by a few guards. Behind these guards Ornogrim spots Ser Marcyn in the great hall.
ORNO: Ser Marcyn!
He exits the hall and the guards allow him passage to speak with the party.
MARCYN: Yes. You’re supposed to be at the docks by now, aren’t you? What can I do for you?
Ornogrim asks about the attack last night and Marcyn tells him that a few guards went in search of the attacker last night and this morning, but they have turned up empty-handed. He mentions this is why the guards are on higher alert around the castle.
Ornogrim mentions that the attacks came from the roof of one of the buildings at the end of the street, but the reason for the attack is unknown. Marcyn has no other information, but he will follow up with this information to see if any clues were left behind on the rooftops.
ORNO: Does this change anything for the travel to the Iron Islands?
MARCYN: It does not. Do you need anything else before you set sail?
Ornogrim tells him that they don’t need anything else, but they wanted to ensure the king had all relevant information to keep Highgarden safe. Marcyn thanks him and they take their leave to fetch Aran from the Deep Onion.
Qhortho arrives at a mostly empty Deep Onion. He strides up to the bar, a man on a mission.
QHOR: I’m looking for a guy named Byff.
The barkeep looks up from wiping down the bar.
BARKEEP: Byff… Byff… Not sure I know a Byff.
QHOR: Big ugly motherfucker.
BARKEEP: There was a big ugly motherfucker in here the other day.
QHOR: Was he an asshole?
BARKEEP: He… uh… his personality left more to be desired.
QHOR: Probably him.
BARKEEP: Haven’t seen him in a day or so. He was staying here, I think, but it was just a few days. Seemed to be the traveling type.
Qhortho attempts to garner additional information but nothing useful is learned other than the certainty that this was Byff.
They are interrupted by a group of travelers entering the bar.
QARZ: Qhortho! I’m glad you’re here already. We need to get Aran and head to the docks. They’re waiting on us.
Qhortho turns to them, angry.
QHOR: Cora was raped by Byff. I need to find him and make him one with the ground.
ORNO: This cannot concern us right now.
QARZ: For all we know, he was the one who attacked us last night. He may hold a grudge against us from Lannisport.
ROLAN: Is he that skilled?
QARZ: We don’t really know. Maybe he hired people to do it.
ORNO: He didn’t seem to be a man of great means.
Qarzdaq, wanting to help his friend Qhortho, convinces Ornogrim they should spend some time asking the few people in the bar about whether they’ve seen Byff, knowing they cannot spend much time on this presently.
They spend the next hour asking the patrons about the big ugly motherfucker. About half of them have had some sort of confrontations with the guy, with almost all of them backing down. A few had the balls to fight him fisticuffs-style, with none of the patrons actually winning.
Qhortho concedes that he has probably left town and there is nothing more to learn here. Still he is drawn to continue.
By this point, it is now noon, and the diplomatic mission is officially very late in getting started. Ornogrim, Qarzdaq, and Rolan suggest that there is a possibility that Byff may have gone to the Iron Islands, but they know this is extremely unlikely. Even Qhortho knows it is unlikely, but he uses the possibility as an excuse to not feel as if he’s given up.
They go up to Aran’s room to find him still sleeping. Qhortho hoists him over his shoulder and Ornogrim grabs his backpack. They all leave the Deep Onion for the docks.
Islands of Iron
As they approach the docks, the masts of three large ships are visible above the nearby buildings. They turn the last corner to see the three great caravels attached to the masts. A few dock workers appear moderately busy, but most of the ships’ crews seem to be standing around, waiting on something.
ROLAN: Our apologies on the wait. We are ready…
QHOR: Oh, wait just a minute. I need to run over the weapons shop. I forgot to stop in as we spent the last few hours walking around town.
Rolan and Ornogrim look at him incredulously as he places Aran down against a large coil of thick rope then scampers out of sight.
Ornogrim looks at Rolan and shrugs. Ornogrim, Qarzdaq, and Rolan board the ship and lay claim to their quarters leaving Aran slumped against the rope.
Qhortho enters the quarters about twenty minutes later with Aran over his shoulder.
ROLAN: What did you have to buy so badly?
QHOR: A dagger. I never again want to be caught without some sort of weapon at hand as we were last night.
Ornogrim and Rolan look at each other and nod approvingly.
ORNO: Good thought Qhortho.
As they are settling in, the captain enters.
CAPT: Ahoy there. I just wanted to check in and get on the same scrap of papyrus before venturing off. I don’t know your experience or capabilities, but I can assure you everyone on these ships are of the top notch in the king’s ranks, given this is a mission of such utmost importance. So, the overall mission objective is to get the Hoare boy. Is that right?
Ornogrim snickers.
ORNO: That’s right! And he’s been one dirty Hoare.
The captain dismisses the sophomoric attempt at humor.
CAPT: From what I’ve heard, we are to bring the Hoare boy back to Casterly Rock for the Lannisters to keep.
ORNO: Yes. That is correct.
CAPT: Ok then. We will be off. The total travel time to Peake is expected to be roughly two fortnights.
The captain turns to leave. Rolan shoots Ornogrim a look.
ORNO: Oh, one more thing.
The captain faces them.
CAPT: Yes?
ORNO: There was an attack last night on the streets of Highgarden. We do not know who it was.
QHOR: The coward would not even face us directly!
CAPT: Hmmm… well I am glad you were able to survive.
The captain turns to leave.
ORNO: So…
The captain faces Ornogrim again with an ever-so-slight look of annoyance.
ORNO: We are unsure of who we can trust. There is a possibility that it could even be someone on this crew.
CAPT: Ah. Well, these men have served in my ranks for easily fifteen years.
ORNO: So, none are new?
CAPT: None are new. New members would never be allowed to take part in a mission of such high importance as this.
ORNO: That is reassuring. Thank you.
ROLAN: Would you be able to instruct your men to be on careful alert for anyone or anything out of the ordinary?
CAPT: Yes. Will do. I take all of my charges very seriously, and this is no exception. We will actively be on the lookout.
The captain goes above deck and yells out the orders to undock and set sail. The deck creaks as the rock in the current of the River Mander. It doesn’t take long for all three great caravels to be on their way. The sight of these ships catches many eyes as they pass small hamlets and ports along the way.
After a few days, they are already in sight of the Shield Islands. This is notably quicker than their last vessel. This time, however, they sail directly out to the deep ocean, keeping their course south of the Shield Islands.
It is while out in the deep ocean that Qhortho’s gemstone cracks. Four days later, it crumbles to dust.
Later that day, the Ironborn blockade is finally in sight near the Lannister coast. The fleet maintains a berth so wide that only the tops of some Ironborn masts can be seen over the horizon. Another several days pass before the rocky outcrops of the Iron Islands can be seen in the distance.
The hours pass. Peake is now plainly visible. The keep sits upon pillars of dark grey-black stone. The rope bridges between large towers sway in the gusty wind. The captain turns towards the northeast and leads them around the eastern side of the island. He follows the shore to the north before turning towards a port along the northern shore.
CREWMAN: Lordsport ahead!
Fetching the Hoare Boy
The crew busy themselves with docking preparations as the ship makes its way into port. Fifteen Ironborn dockhands in the port stand by idly in various shades of grey garments and armor. They watch as the ships’ crews scramble to tie-up their ships without help.
Among the dockhands is Jahor. He nods at the Assembly once he knows he’s been recognized then shifts his eyes around, clearly conveying they should keep their acquaintance a secret.
After a few hurried minutes, Rolan, Ornogrim, Qhortho, and Qarzdaq disembark, leaving Aran to continue his recovery. After a moment’s pause, they attempt to walk through the crowd of Ironborn. One man steps from the crowd and blocks their path. They halt. A moment of tension is diffused when the man speaks up.
GRYFFIL: The name’s Gryffil. You lot are with me. I’m to take you to the keep to visit with King Harmund.
The Assembly quickly accepts this.
Gryffil sweeps his arm towards the group of Ironborn behind them and they part. Ten horses, bridled and ready, are standing on the rocky road leading up towards the towers in the distance.
Gryffil walks through the group of Ironborn, expecting the diplomats to follow. Rolan takes the first step and stop immediately when one of the Ironborn spits at the ground in front of him. Rolan looks at the man momentarily then disregards the act, pressing forward to one of the horses. Just by looking at these men, he gathers that they are no real threat to himself and his friends, but they certainly put on a good show. He questions if their values are really much different from their own; these men certainly don’t look to be the saviors of the Old Way, that’s for sure.
The others follow and mount up, following Gryffil’s lead. They are pleased to see that Jahor is coming along but less pleased that a few of the other Ironborn are also coming along. They trot along the road, following Gryffil the entire way.
Eventually, the come upon three keeps, each on their own pillar island, are connected to each other by stone covered bridges. The keeps and towers look to be constructed of the same grey-black stone of which the rest of the island is composed. Various surrounding towers are connected to those keeps by wood and rope bridges.
Continuing their ride, they arrive at the main gate, beyond which is a wide stone bridge. Three towers sit on either side of the gatehouse, looming above them like giants looking over dwarves. The bridge ahead leads to the largest islet where the most massive of the keeps sits beyond a great gatehouse and iron portcullis.
Looking out across the island, they see a tall curtain wall enclosing a large swath of land, perhaps 50 acres, in addition to the cliffs down below the bridge.
They continue across the bridge to the Great Keep. Following Gryffil, they dismount and enter the keep into a great hall. A large hearth is burning, illuminating the hall and creating a silhouette from the throne and man standing beside it.
Getting closer, the throne appears to be constructed of petrified driftwood and the man, dressed in grey and black, looks comfortable as he leans against the throne, staring into the fire.
Gryffil announces their arrival and the man turns around. He greets them coldly and introduces himself as King Harmund.
Initially, no one from the group steps forward, so Qhortho takes the reins.
QHOR: We have come to negotiate the blockade you have at Lannisport.
HARMUND: I see.
ORNO: We have been sent by King Greydon.
QHOR: Why are you blockading them?
HARMUND: What makes you think I am behind it? Such an act would go against the agreement I have with Gardener.
He implies that this is likely the act of a rogue faction called Rites of the Old Way. Ornogrim responds that there are too many ships for this to be a rogue faction.
ROLAN: I must interrupt for a moment. It is I, Rolan Grey.
HARMUND: The name rings a bell.
Rolan describes that he was sent away by his highness to train and seek the Kraken on land. He goes on to mention that he trained with Jahor for 16 years before he eventually found his way into this group of adventurers.
HARMUND: Ah. I certainly did not send you away. I do not remember you personally, but I do remember this… situation. It was the only time Jahor failed my orders. That youngster… you… were to work here at the keep at my behest, as the finest of the orphanage do. Instead, you had suddenly gone missing…
He looks over to Jahor who is staring at the ground. He drops this topic, likely to be picked up later in private.
Ornogrim takes over the conversation when Harmund asks again why the group thinks he is behind the blockade.
ORNO: We have met… well… experienced… this rogue faction you speak of. ROW.
Harmund claims that they should all know that group’s capabilities then. He denies that he is behind it.
HARMUND: As I said, I do not control those ships and would not be the appropriate target of such demands.
Ornogrim senses he is lying. He forcefully presses Harmund about ROW’s resources and claims that Harmund knows they are severely lacking. He repeats that King Greydon has sent them to stop the blockade and adds that they are to take some sort of leverage to prevent future aggressive actions from the Iron Islands.
ORNO: The bottom line is that we need to negotiate to break this blockade. And we need to do this now.
HARMUND: Or what?
ORNO: That would be up to King Gardener, King of the Reach.
QARZ: Perhaps if you drop the blockade, he may be willing to let this slide.
Harmund reaches down to his side and pulls out a dagger. He begins flipping it in his hand.
HARMUND: Are you the only ones that know of ROW’s weakened resources?
ORNO: No. We have told the king everything.
ROLAN: The king knows that ROW was terrorizing the Shield Islands and they have shrunken resources.
HARMUND: I see.
ROLAN: And because of that, he does not hold you accountable for those raids. I’m not sure he would be so forgiving if we come back empty handed. We just want to get this handled.
ORNO: As a token of good faith on your part, the king has requested you provide your Hoare Boy as a ransom.
HARMUND: WHAT?? Yeah… good faith… I’m sure.
He pauses momentarily to think about this.
HARMUND: And where is he to be?
ORNO: With the Lannisters.
HARMUND: Lorys?
ORNO: Yes.
Harmund scrunches his face and looks away. He looks back and agrees to these terms. He confirms that King Greydon will know there was full cooperation and tells them that three Ironborn ships will accompany them to the blockade for their own safety and to inform the captains it is time to return home.
King Harmund calls for his son Harmund, the second of his name. He tells the boy that he will be leaving the Iron Islands to stay with friends in Westeros. The group turns to leave the keep, but Qhortho has one last question. As he opens his mouth, the rest of the group look at each other with a look of despair at what Qhortho might say next.
QHOR: Why did you put the blockade in place to begin with.
Harmund smiles a wide, but thin smile.
HARMUND: That is none of your concern.
QHOR: That is exactly my concern.
The king realizes he is not getting away without some explanation here.
HARMUND: We have been hit hard with recent storms and see that Lannisport holds so much wealth, without any real strength. This allows them to have control without force. We do not agree with this method to wield power; it should come from the strength of their leader and soldiers.
QHOR: I agree with you more than you realize. But this is the way of the world in these parts. What if you could share in that wealth by way of a trade deal? Then you could command by physical strength as well as economic.
HARMUND: What sort of trade deal do you propose?
Qhortho asks about what the Iron Islands produce, to which the king replies, “not much except violence.” Qhortho asks about providing security for current trade routes.
HARMUND: So you want us to provide security for those same people we were blockading?
The group share some uneasy looks as Qhortho answers.
QHOR: Well perhaps we can discuss the details later. We will see if there is interest from King Greydon or the Lannisters.
With a sigh of relief, they all turn to leave, but Qhortho has one last question… The group looks at each other, jaws wide open.
ORNO: I think we’ve asked enough questions, Qhortho.
QHOR: We encountered some men around Red Lake that wore the Kraken. Why would men disguise themselves so?
HARMUND: Well… if you were a thinking man… … … I would think it would be to inspire fear without having to apply much force. A crutch for those who do not command strength on their own. Cowards. We did not and would not set up a land outpost in the Reach. That would be stupid.
Ornogrim and Rolan guide Qhortho out of the keep before the conversation escalates. They leave for the docks with the Hoare Boy. Along the way, they pass a shrike and a group of followers that ask them to participate in a finger dance. Rolan pushes them all to just keep going and to ignore the crowd. Before they get out of earshot, the shrike yells out that “the Deep Ones will crush you!”
Depositing the Hoare Boy
They eventually get to the docks and board their ship. Their three caravels sail out of the port alongside three Ironborn long ships. The Ironborn captains mock Highgarden captains by sailing faster until they are close to out of sight, then stopping to wait for the mainlanders to catch up. This goes on for the next few days until the blockade is within sight. It’s at this point that the caravel captains halt their progress.
The three long ships continue towards the blockade.
After several minutes, a few of the blockade ships begin moving towards the caravels. Then a few more. Soon, the entire fleet of a hundred or more ships are sailing right for the three caravels. The anxiety is palpable.
Tension reaches an all-time high as the caravels are entirely surrounded. The Ironborn yell out threats and insults to the mainlanders. The sailors aboard the carvels, as well as the Assembly, keep their mouths shut. This is the most terrifying thing they’ve witnessed in all their travels. If the Ironborn were to attack now, there would be no escape. A sense of dread consumes them all.
After an eternity, the last of the long ships pass. They wait until every long ship is out of sight before continuing forward towards Casterly Rock.
Though they’d been here before, this was the first time by sea. The sight is astounding. The castle looks to be carved directly from a giant stone hill. From this vantage point, the height is more impressive than by land, adding another hundred feet to its peak. The only other structure they’d seen that rivals this was Hightower, the great beacon in Oldtown. By land, they might be comparable; by sea, there is no contest.
The ringfort perched atop the great stone peak menacingly tops the many walls, gates, and watchtowers surrounding it. There look to be a small set of ancient caverns carved for ships, but a larger port area is beside it, with numerous docked ships. Stranded, by the looks of it.
The captain of the lead ship makes directly for the port.
After docking, Aran still sleeping, the rest of the party disembarks with the Hoare boy. This route is familiar to Ornogrim, Qhortho, and Qarzdaq. They head into the cavern entrance, following the most well-lit path upwards, towards the town they visited over a month ago. Eventually, they exit the cavern into the castle town of Casterly Rock.
Very ornately-armored Lannister guards line the walls wearing breastplates of fire red and glistening gold. They make no move to prevent access to the large courtyard before them.
The hall they so easily accessed previously is blocked by two guards. A deep, slow talking, authoritative voice asks if they are looking for something.
ORNO: We are here on the orders of King Greydon himself to deliver this Hoare boy to Lord Lorys.
GUARD: Hmm… I am not aware there is to be a delivery of… a… Hoare boy you say?
ORNO: Yes, the Hoare boy. It is related to the blockade being broken.
GUARD: I see. Wait here.
The guard enters the keep, leaving them outside. Though the day is clear, there is a bit of a chill in the air, probably from the altitude. The guard returns a few minutes later and leads them into a cavernous hall.
Lorys Lannister is seated at large table wearing the same fur cowl he was wearing in their first encounter. He seems annoyed at the sheer presence of non-Lannisters in his keep. The echo of their footsteps fills the air until cut by Lorys’s words.
LORYS: You were the group here during the last Faire… And what do you want now??
His tone conveys that they better get to their point quickly.
Ornogrim takes the lead. He describes their mission from King Greydon and that they’ve just treated with Harmund Hoare. He describes that their negotiations with Lord Harmund settled the blockade issue.
ORNO: You have probably noticed by now that the Ironborn blockade has been removed.
LORYS: Yeah, I noticed…
Lorys still seems annoyed at their presence. Ornogrim motions to have the Hoare boy brought in front of him and rushes his speech to get to something that might please him more.
ORNO: We have brought his son, Harmund. The second of his name.
Ornogrim pulls up the hood that had been covering his face somewhat. Lorys continues to look at Ornogrim, deadpan. He then looks at the child. A moment later, recognition is in his eyes and he finally cracks a faint smile.
LORYS: I see. This is good. It seems you are more able than I expected. This should prevent those iron cucks from blocking our fine realm.
ORNO: Thank you, my lord.
Lorys looks across their faces, expecting to hear other news. With nothing said over the next few seconds, he breaks the silence.
LORYS: Then I suppose our business is concluded then.
Lord Lorys waves the Hoare boy to him and he complies.
ORNO: Yes. Yes. We will take our leave now, with your permission.
LORYS: Please. You have done well here today.
They leave the keep and briefly discuss whether they should visit Lannisport or head to the docks to begin their travel back to Highgarden. Qhortho, interested in finding Byff, convinces the others that visiting the tavern in Lannisport would be a nice break in their poison-water travel and they might learn some information.
Entering Lannisport this time, the merchants are busier with more travelers frequenting their shops. The Ocean Road must still be open after their efforts. They take some pride in experiencing the wider-scale benefits of their actions.
Entering the tavern, they see it is busy, but not crowded. They are greeted by the barkeep asking for their orders.
Qhortho asks about a man fitting Byff’s description. The barkeep knows who he is talking about immediately, readily offering that Byff’s an asshole.
BARKEEP: I’m sorry to say I haven’t seen him in about a month or so. Normally, I wouldn’t say I’m sorry to not have seen Byff, but if someone looking like you is trying to find him, I wish he were here right now so I could watch him get what’s coming to him!
Qhortho let’s out a gruff laugh.
The rest of the group order ales and relax at a table while Qhortho searches the town for Byff.
When Qhortho arrives back to the tavern a few hours later, he says that no one in town has seen him in about a month, even those lackies he ran with at the Faire. It seems he has probably continued his travels and may never come back this way. It did not seem there was much reason for him to want to stick around, given the guards’ latest disputes with him.
They finish their drinks and leave for the docks at Casterly Rock, arriving after nightfall.
The Greater Task at Hand
A crewmember aboard the ship alerts the others that the diplomats have returned.
CAPTAIN: Well, that took a little longer than expected, no?
ORNO: Our apologies. We had a number of things that required our immediate attention.
He punctuates the sentence with a beer-laden hiccup.
CAPTAIN: I see… Well, let’s be off then. It’s a clear night, so navigation should pose no issue.
They board the ship and lie down for a good night’s rest.
The next ten days go by without incident before they finally see the great castle of Highgarden. Always a beauty to behold.
Qhortho throws Aran over his shoulder and they disembark. They stop by the Deep Onion to purchase rooms and provide Aran a proper bed. Their next stop: the castle proper to inform the king of their success!
Walking the town and seeing the castle, it is clear that the lockdown from a few weeks ago is no longer in effect. Did they find the attacker? Or did they determine there was no larger threat?
Ser Marcyn notices the group entering the main gate and walks over to greet them.
MARCYN: Sers. It is good to see you’re return.
Ornogrim beams at being called “ser.”
ORNO: It is good to see you Ser Marcyn. We have great news. We were successful in breaking the blockade and the Hoare boy is with the Lannisters.
Marcyn expresses both relief and mild surprise and mentions that he originally thought they were just good for combat, but they continue to show an ever-widening breadth of strengths.
ORNO: It is true. We are an amazing group of individuals.
ROLAN: They don’t just call us ser for no reason.
He leads the group through the great hall and into the courtyard with the battered weirwood throne. King Greydon is sitting at a table in the same place where the Assembly met him the first time. Except this time, he is with Tyrone Bannister and Maester Paxtan.
Upon entering, all three men seated at the table turn their heads to the newcomers.
Tyrone smiles at them all.
TYRONE: It is good to see you friends!
He stands to greet them and very slightly bows his head.
TYRONE: We have learned much.
PAXTAN: Yeah… Once we were finally provided access…
Tyrone dismisses the comment.
TYRONE: From Grey… excuse me… from King Greydon’s words, it seems you’ve earned our stay. I knew you had it in you.
Ornogrim thanks him. Qarzdaq and Qhortho nod in acceptance. Rolan stands by, not sure when or if he should speak up, given the gravity of the situation.
TYRONE: As I mentioned, we’ve learned quite a lot. For instance…
The king interrupts him.
GREYDON: We will have time for that later. How did you do on this latest task?
Ornogrim and Qarzdaq tell some details of their excursion, showcasing their success at every turn. Greydon is only somewhat surprised. Tyrone’s pride in the Assembly shows through and through.
GREYDON: You have done well. Once again, you have done well. Arms apply one’s fist while diplomacy opens one’s arms. You will now be known as The Arms of the Reach, for your ability to apply both elements of statecraft. You have done quite well. And now my esteemed maester has returned, so I am quite happy.
He enquires about the young man who convinced them of their worthiness as diplomats, to which Ornogrim tells the story of how he fell ill for some time after the attack faced the night of the feast. Maester Paxtan requests time with Aran to see about creating an antidote.
King Greydon motions to Tyrone, giving permission to share the information he’s gathered.
TYRONE: We have learned that the creatures we have seen in our visions were brought here, perhaps by the Children of the Forest, those hostile woodlands creatures. It appears their aim may be to consume all life. They seem to propagate their kind by attacking humans to convert them into their kind. It was difficult to make out their form, but the sense they embodied was unnatural. They also seem to be intelligent enough to prove a grave threat.
Ornogrim describes the phrog phuks they’ve encountered and retries a decrepit slaad claw from his backpack.
ORNO: Some of these creatures can assume the shape of humans. And they can infect others through these very claws.
Tyrone looks over the claw closely then passes it to Paxtan for inspection. Paxtan pulls out a lens to look at it in detail, then passes it back to Ornogrim. While they are looking at the claw, Ornogrim mentions that he’s cut open other ones and that there are thin ducts running through the claws. The ducts do not appear to be connected to a venom sac.
TYRONE: So, you have fought them. Are you sure you got them all? Perhaps others have escaped.
The team describes some of their encounters and their almost defeat in their most recent battle at Greenridge Keep.
Rolan finally speaks up, somewhat skeptical of this “vision” Tyrone alludes to. Tyrone briefly describes how he, with the Tear of Life, and Maester Paxtan, with the Amulet of Lightbringer, were able to combine the energy to witness glimpses into the future. They saw a grave threat capable of destroying all of mankind. Shadows among trees. A sense of dread and purpose.
Rolan comes to the same conclusion as Tyrone about the Children of the Forest are involved somehow, for he knows their capabilities quite well.
ROLAN: Damn the Children of the Forest…
TYRONE: With the latest knowledge gained from some banned texts in the cellars of the Citadel, we believe the threat can be found before this prophecy can become realized. We take the fight to them before they build the strength to destroy mankind. The concurrence of the Children and these other beings tells me this will not be easy. Is there any place you would suggest we visit first to hunt these things down?
Qarzdaq describes the forests near Red Lake and some mysterious force that delayed their passage.
TYRONE: Did you actually see the Children?
ORNO: We did not actually lay eyes on them. They always seemed to escape our view just as we looked for them.
ROLAN: I could… Well, I saw eyes in the darkness. I did not sense imminent danger, but I did not feel safe either.
TYRONE: I see… We should leave as soon as you are ready. Stock up as you need and we shall ride along the most direct route available.
Ornogrim’s Quest
They leave the castle and split up. Qhortho, Qarzdaq, and Rolan take Maester Paxtan to the Deep Onion to assess Aran’s state. The maester spends a few minutes with him and realizes he has been struck with a potent poison that appears to have put him in a semi-permanent sleep. He tells them that he needs a few hours to concoct the antidote, but he will get started immediately. He will provide it to Tyrone before they leave.
Meanwhile, Ornogrim visits the local pet shop. After looking around at the interesting creatures in the shop, he asks the owner where he might find a panther.
ONWER: Panther huh? Those are not allowed in city limits.
Ornogrim flips the woman a gold coin.
OWNER: But… I know a guy. Follow the road out of Highgarden north. It’s not quite as far as Dunstonbury. The town there has a number of exotic pets, but for something like this, you’ll need to ask for this man by name in the tavern. His name is Remy. You didn’t hear this from me.
Ornogrim agrees and thanks her, leaving the shop to meet up at the Deep Onion.
When he arrives, the rest of the group is sitting in the tavern with Aran sitting at a chair at the table, propped up with torches and ropes, forcing him to wave and pretend drink ale – as well as some other, cruder gestures. They’ve gathered the attention of other patrons who are laughing at their most recent gest when Ornogrim enters.
ORNO: I see you’ve put him to better use than he’s been for the past month!
They laugh and spend a few more minutes at the tavern. Ornogrim shares with the others that he would like to stop at a small town to speak to a man about a Jaguar; they are all ok with doing so. Soon after, they leave for the stables to pack their horses for their trip. After retrieving their horses and tipping the stable hands, they leave for the castle to pick up Tyrone and the antidote to Aran’s sleepiness. He is to take the antidote while lit by the moon, but it will take a few days before he wakes.
It is mid-afternoon when they follow the road north out of Highgarden. The beauty of the meadows and rolling hills is not lost on any of them except Aran. After a few hours they rest for the night and administer the antidote to Aran as directed. He coughs slightly, but otherwise does not stir from his slumber.
The next morning, they continue on their way until they reach a small rest area around noon. They tie up their horses and enter the tavern.
ORNO: Good day. I’d like an ale.
He places five silver coins on the bar, knowing this is ten times the price. The barkeep looks at Ornogrim quizzically.
ORNO: … and maybe just a quick piece of information. I’m looking for a man by the name of Remy.
The barkeep locks eyes with him then breaks contact, looking out across the tavern, scanning the bar. He stops and nods once. Ornogrim turns to the direction indicated by the barkeep’s gaze and sees a man sitting at a table alone. He looks almost like an old-time pirate who made a home on land a couple of decades ago.
Ornogrim explains that he is looking for an exotic animal. Remy response is difficult to make out due to the fast mumbly speech pattern, but Ornogrim is able to understand him well enough that he was going to require some coin up front. A gold coin seems to do the trick.
He gets up and leads Ornogrim out back to a wagon that is over twice as long as any other he’d ever seen and slightly wider. He pulls up the back flap to reveal lots of small cages.
REMY: So let’s see here. I got your dire eagle, your dire frog, your dire rat, your…
ORNO: I’m looking for a panther.
REMY: Panther eh… those are expensive…
ORNO: I’d expect so, but I hear you are the only one who might have such a creature.
REMY: Sure ya don’t want this dire cat instead?
ORNO: I’d really like a panther.
Remy drop the flap in the back and pauses a moment before starting to walk away. Just as Ornogrim thinks he’s about to be stiffed, Remy stops halfway along the wagon and unshackles two hidden buckles alongside the vehicle. He then pulls on the back end of the wagon. The middle of the coach opens on hinges, revealing some larger cages that went unseen from the back. Inside one of those cages is a bluish-black pelted creature. A panther.
Remy comes back around.
ORNO: That panther looks pretty good. I’ll take him.
REMY: That’ll be a hundred platinum.
ORNO: A hundred? I was thinking fifty.
REMY: Look, I’ll level with ya. I’ve never been able to get him properly trained.
With that he lets out the characteristic panther growl. Remy startles slightly, but Ornogrim recognizes that he just wants to be freed from this cage.
REMY: Ok. Fifty will do.
Ornogrim hands the coins to Remy then fishes Splinter out from his pocket.
He tells Splinter, through a variety of squeaks, that he has been a wonderful friend, but he is free to go now. Splinter scurries off towards a nearby field of tall grass. He turns around just before reaching the grass to get one last look, then scampers into the weeds.
Ornogrim approaches the panther and growls back at it, saying: I would like to free you from this caged life and ask that you come adventure with me, if you so wish.
Ornogrim tosses a small piece of raw meat into his cage, which the panther devours immediately. Clearly, he is borderline starving.
Ornogrim tells the panther that he will provide plenty of food as well. The panther growls back: deal!
Ornogrim crafts a leash from his hempen rope and explains to the panther that this is for show ad is a requirement for making this happen. The panther agrees.
Ornogrim unlatches the cage, which causes Remy to panic. Ornogrim tells Remy that he is an expert and not to worry. Remy pulls up his shirt to reveal some deep scratches across his chest.
REMY: This is what it did to me!
Ornogrim continues to open the cage and slips the leash over its neck.
Remy steps way back. Ornogrim leaves the area with his new friend, walking around the side of the tavern to the front. He pokes his head into the tavern and calls his friends outside.
ORNO: Meet Scratchy, my new companion!
Qhortho asks about Byff before they go, learning nothing new. They get on their way, heading northwest towards Red Lake.
The Fall of a Friend
After a few days, while camping in the middle of a field, the group notices a soft glowing light in a field not more than 200 feet away. Ornogrim wargs with Scratchy.
He slinks along stealthily to find that the glow is coming from a depression in this field. He sees a human figure with a glow around him with his chin to his chest, arms wide out. Scratchy runs back towards camp.
Ornogrim quickly breaks his warg and alerts the others about what he’s seen. Aran is still sleeping.
Rolan casts Pass Without Trace and they all proceed cautiously. Once they have this being in view, they notice the man is surrounded by swarms of small bunnies.
TYRONE: This looks to be the form of a false religion that has fallen by the wayside long ago. The form of a man known as Jebus that was worshiped as an idol of the “one true god.” I do not know what to expect from this man, if it is indeed human at all.
Taking advantage of the fact that they have not yet been seen, Rolan holds a sapphire into his Ring of Universatility for a minute until it sinks into the setting. He suddenly feels quicker on his feet.
After some discussion, they rush in to attack. Tyrone stands back and calls forth a lightning bolt from the clear sky. It strikes the Jebus causing the ground to singe around him, burning the bunnies in the process. The Jebus raises his head to reveal a face of decaying flesh. This was once human, but now is undead.
They all attack the bunnies and the Jebus, taking lots of hits themselves. The bunnies gnaw their ankles with vampiric fangs; the Jebus claws at their faces and bites at their neck with the thirst of a lost man in Dorne. The tide of battle would be edging towards the party’s favor, but the Jebus continues to spawn additional bunnies. This cause the battle to be fairly even until Aran shows up to fight alongside them!
Finally, the Jebus is struck down by Qhortho’s blade. Instantly, he vanishes in a blinding white light. Qhortho stumbles backwards slightly. The light collapses down to a ball and all the bunnies vaporize into sparkles of light. The sparkles swirls around the glowing ball as it just bobs up and down above the grass. The glow vanishes.
The party looks around in confusion until the ball suddenly reappears in front of Qhortho and zaps him with lightning.
Ornogrim slashes at the ball but is only able to strike it once.
ORNO: This thing avoids hits very well! Be true with your strikes!
They continue to attack the ball of light until Rolan strikes the center of the orb with two arrows in succession. It vibrates in the air then cracks, spouting a beam of light from its surface.
The beam sweeps horizontally fairly quickly, moving across Tyrone’s face, who shields himself from it with his robe.
It then crosses over Aran, who dives to the ground.
The beam slows, but continues, falling upon Rolan next, who feels himself being pulled toward it. He is relieved of the force when the beam scans past him.
The beam next crosses Qarzdaq’s chest, now moving even slower. His heart feels as if it is being wrenched form his chest. He falls to a kneel, gasping for breath as the beam continues its scan. He falls face down to the ground, but still alive.
The beam slows and lands on Ornogrim. He loses breath as it pauses on him. He feels as if his lungs are collapsing, his heart is being clenched, his very being is getting ripped from his body. He drops his swords and falls to his knees. He falls onto his forearms, face in the ground. A ghostly apparition separates from his body and begins moving through the beam of light towards the glowing ball.
Scratchy reacts immediately to this afront on his friend and jumps directly at the ball of light, claws fully extended. The panther’s claws rip the ball open, shooting beams of extremely bright light randomly into the sky and all around them. A high pitch vibrato pierces their ears.
The ghostly apparition, appears to cling to the closest thing to it, absorbing into Scratchy’s bluish-black pelt.
The glowing ball shatters and dissipates into the air. Everyone is temporary blinded by the sudden darkness, deafened by the sudden silence. All they can hear is Scratchy’s panting.
After a few moments, their eyes adjust to the night to see the panther standing in front of them, just looking at each of them. Suddenly, the panther takes off towards the distant woods, running at top speed. It disappears into the night. It is only then that they realize that Ornogrim is still on the ground. Qhortho runs over to check that he is ok, but Ornogrim doesn’t move.
QHOR: no…
Qhortho falls to the ground, shaking Ornogrim, trying to wake him from his slumber. Aran, Qarzdaq, and Rolan rush over to the commotion. Tyrone stares at the ground, then calmly walks towards them, stopping to stand in front as they try to wake him.
TYRONE: I’m afraid there is no helping your friend.
They all look up to Tyrone from the ground, his white beard twitching in the slight breeze.
TYRONE: What we’ve just experienced is something few have ever lived through. To have lost one, is to have succeeded.
Qhortho jumps to his feet and stomps menacingly towards Tyrone, rage bubbling just below the surface.
QHOR: SUCCEEDED?! Are you fucking crazy??
Tyrone takes a few steps back and holds up his hands as if to stop him from getting any closer.
TYRONE: Yes. What we’ve just witnessed is an event that has been told by people throughout the ages. Always witnessed at a distance. Never in direct confrontation. Most stories were believed to be false. This proves them to be true. Surviving this close encounter should be counted as a blessing. Others might see this as actually cheating Death; as cheating the Stranger. Many would now consider you cursed. I, for one, do not believe in superstitions. Our survival is our Fate. We have greater deeds to accomplish. The Mother Rhoyne protects us as best she can. You may see this as losing a friend today, but I have my doubts.
Tyrone looks off towards the woods.
TYRONE: I am not so sure we’ve lost him. It is true that his body lies lifeless in front of us, but it seems to me, he lives on in another form.
It is Day 373 as the sun peeks out above the hills in the east. The previously dark forest lights up against the darker sky above.
Though the party has gained 2,270XP (now at 40,000 XP) for applying their expertise in diplomacy and combat, we end this session with a great loss.
In memory of Patrick Keegan. Miss you man.