I’ll get the big news out of the way right up front: This is going to be the last PTFO episode for a while. I’ve got some work projects ramping up, along with some significant family business to take care of. In moments like these I feel a bit like the village of Stonetop, i.e. beset by advancing threats on many fronts. You’ve probably also experienced that before if you’re an adult human being living in the year twenty-twenty-two; feeling embattled is in the zeitgeist.
Fortunately, my challenges are a bit more modest than Owain, Brennan and the hdour, so I suspect I will survive. My current plan is to publish the next full-blown episode of PTFO:Stonetop on October 10th. Most likely, I won’t be capable of going completely dark, so I might write a little behind-the-scenes episode about Midjourney AI art, or some stuff I’ve learned about setup/reminder/payoff structures while solo GMing, or some other random topic.
If you are a brand new reader, I’m sorry your early experience of the project is me vanishing for a long rest! But, that said, now is a great time to catch up on the old stuff — check out the Table of Contents for all the back episodes! Also, if you are a regular reader who has not subscribed, I invite you to subscribe now so that when we return, you’ll be notified.
Recap & Poll Results
Last episode, we dealt with the aftermath of the Stormcrows’ attack. Anwen accompanied the Hillfolk in a funeral procession for Kirs. Vahid delved deep into the history between the Heolings and the storm-folk, and learned more about Stonetop’s hidden arcanum. And Padrig stayed close to Juba and counseled caution.
We concluded last episode on the horns of a trilemma. Padrig advocated that the party return to the village, share what they’ve learned, and prepare their people for whatever plans the hdour has for them, as well as the coming Winter. Anwen advocated to stay among the Hillfolk and help ferret out the hdour from his hiding place among the storm-folk. And Vahid proposed they seek out Stormcatcher’s crown, the last piece of regalia to unlock the secrets of the arcanum beneath Stonetop.
We put the choice to a reader poll. Without further ado, let’s look at where our heroes are headed next:
Pad’s prudence wins the day, and the party will return to Stonetop to report back, recuperate, and help things go smoothly during the winter.
The Hillfolk arc has occupied three entire sessions. A lot happened, and if we were at the gaming table, I would get the PCs home without a lot of complications so we could quickly pick up a new story thread and give them a break from all tu’d all the time — as a few of you folks pointed out in the comments, the game is called Stonetop, not Hillfolk (that’s a different game). And given that we’re entering a short hiatus, it’s a good time to go home for a bit and have some season finale vibes.
To that end, we’ll dive back into the fiction with a couple of scenes seeing our heroes off from their Hillfolk hosts, and then get us back to Stonetop!
Scene 7: The Hilltop overlooking the encampment
That morning, Padrig orders the Companions to break camp. The party bids a reluctant farewell to their pavilion, fit for a meistr, and prepares for the long, cold trek across the windy grasslands towards home.
Padrig stands on the hilltop overlooking the rest of the encampment, watching the camp slowly come alive as the sun rises. The Sun-Spear have also begun to pull down their few tents — some mended, others donated by the spearmoot emissaries as they departed — and gather their carefully rationed supplies on carts and packhorses. Below, Pad sees Juba approaching with a farewell party in tow; Laurl, sitting gingerly in her saddle, cradling her wounded side, and a pair of Kirs’ riders. Padrig gives a whistle, and Ozbeg and Anwen leave their labors and join him.
“Do you recognize those two, Anwen?”
Anwen nods. “They were in the funeral procession1.” One of them — the greybeard, mounted on a rust-brown gelding — catches Anwen’s eye as they approach, exchanging respectful nods. “Kirs trusted them.”
Juba smiles warmly as he and his party approach. “I am loath to see you go, Padrig-kamarad. And you, champion of Stonetop,” he says, sketching a bow in his saddle to Anwen. “My band’s fortunes turned when you arrived. You and yours have done much, and we are in your debt.”
Padrig bows his head to Juba. “We did no more than was needed to repay you for your fine hospitality, great Juba, and we accept no debt. We will return home and tell Stonetop that the Sun-Spear are foremost among the tu’d.”
“And we will not forget your friendship. Stonetop is fortunate indeed to have sons such as Padrig and daughters such as Anwen.” Juba replies, bowing still lower.
Anwen’s chest soars with pride for a moment before she feels a cold twinge of guilt that brings her back down to the ground. “You are kind to say so, meistr Juba. I am sorry for your loss.”
Juba rises from his bow and regards Anwen thoughtfully. “I am sorry to lose him, too. I was sorry to lose his father before him. I fear the Crownthief’s name is cursed.” He reaches down and lifts Anwen’s chin. “But I hope you do not let his death hang over you like a shadow. For you burn as brightly as he did, and if we take vengeance on the hdour together, we will need that fire.”
Anwen closes her eyes to hold back welling tears and nods sturdily. “I’ll be ready.”
Juba chuckles warmly. “No doubt you will be. Let the storm tremble!”
With that, he turns to Padrig. “I have one final favor to ask of you, Padrig-kamarad,” he gestures at the two riders at his side. “These two are Ronhl, the elder, and Merid, the younger. I wish you to take them into your warrior’s band and teach them what you will.”
Merid eagerly interjects, “You tracked a Stormcrow — those who passed without a trace. I wish to learn your ways!”
Ronhl grunts and slaps the youth in the chest. “Quiet, boy. As you can see, he needs must learn patience as well.” Ozbeg, watching from a respectful distance, nods in approval.
Juba chuckles. “If their bickering begins to grate, or you have a need to get a message to me, send them home. They know the way.”
Padrig approaches Juba and reaches up to grasp his arm. “Thank you, Juba. I’ll look after them as Kirs would have.” They say their farewells and make ready to leave. At a word from Pad, Anwen takes off at a run in search of Vahid.
Scene Breakdown
The purpose of this scene is twofold: One, to clearly establish that the Sun-Spear Hillfolk (and their extended Heoling network) are now allies in the fight against the hdour — if he threatens Stonetop, the Hillfolk can come to their aid, and if he threatens the Sun-Spear, they will ask for Stonetop’s aid.
The second purpose is to build up the characters a bit, appropriately acknowledge their heroics, and tangibly reward Padrig with two new members of his crew. Since Aled died back in Session 5, Pad’s been down a member, and with a Marshal in the party, it’s good GM form to give opportunities to grow the crew. This lets us have a bit of Hillfolk wherever we go now, and it also lets them get in touch with Juba or find the Sun-Spear at their winter camp.
Scene 8: The horse pasture
As the Sun-Spear make ready to decamp, Vahid finds Katrin in the horse pastures once again, tending to the horses wounded in the attack. Ever-vigilant Maikl stands aside, watching the Seeker suspiciously as he approaches her. He still leans heavily on his staff, drained and weak from the ordeal of the last several days.2
Katrin turns to face him, leaning against a silver-maned stallion — Vahid recognizes it as Kirs’ old mount, who bore him to the burial site. “So, Seeker. You return to Stonetop and to Stormcatcher’s sanctum,” she says. “What will you do there?”
Vahid’s solid-azure eyes dart to Maikl, then back to Katrin. “What would you have me do? Leave Stormcatcher’s legacy in the past?”
Katrin looks into his eyes and holds his gaze, and Vahid realizes that she is the only one who has done so since they turned on the night of the attack. “No. It is much too late for that.” Katrin looks pointedly at Vahid, but her tone is curious, not accusatory. “Solnn fears you will grant Stormcatcher’s blessing to the people of Stonetop and that they will become tyrants like their forebearers.”
“Do you fear that?”
“Yes. But the hdour is coming. We must prepare to weather his storm, however we might.”
Vahid sighs. “Without Stormcatcher’s crown, there is little to be done with the sanctum other than to study its workings and prepare. I will do what I can to help the village endure the winter.”
Katrin nods solemnly. “If you intend to seek the crown, I know a man who can help.”
Vahid’s attention snaps onto her, and his storm eyes flicker. “Who?”
“Elder Kirs. My father.”
Vahid starts. “I thought him dead! Your brother said as much.”
“Not dead, but lost to us. He was outcast from our band when Kirs and I were small. He fled to Gordin’s Delve — I dream of him some nights.” She smiles sadly.
“He knows where the burial mound is? Where the crown is hidden?”
“If he does not, he will be able to discover it. He earns coin for drink and other pharmakeia3by leading tomb-robbers into the barrows.”
Vahid bows deeply. “Thank you, Katrin. I will seek him out when the time is right.”
“Treat him gently,” she replies, barely whispering now. “He has lost much already, and he doesn’t yet know his son is dead.” Vahid nods solemnly. She presses a woven bracelet of grass into his hands. “Take this to remember us. If you have need of me, wait until the moon is full and burn it. Breathe the fumes deeply, and you will dream of me, and I of you.”
Vahid looks down at the strange charm, smiling quizzically and stroking his beard in a quintessentially Lygosi gesture. “I do not think I will need pharmakeia to dream of you, Katrin.” He tucks the gift into his grey-blue cloak and turns to see Anwen beckoning him from the hilltop above.
Scene Breakdown
Like the previous scene, this scene functions as a bit of an epilogue to our Hillfolk arc. It ties a bow on Vahid’s time with Katrin, opens the door to him contacting her again, and it sets up Vahid’s path to finding Stormcatcher’s Crown and awakening the arcanum beneath Stonetop (pointing us at Gordin’s Delve, a major location we have yet to visit).
Setting the Scene: Return to Stonetop
We can think of this episode as a season finale — after all, we’re concluding a major story arc, heading into winter, and going on a short hiatus. To that end, we’ll conclude this episode with a short montage that sets the stage for when we return in about six weeks.
Returning home triggers a flurry of moves — let’s get into them:
First, the party Returns home triumphant. They accomplished their goals — they learned more about the hdour and they established an alliance with a powerful Hillfolk faction. That increases the village’s Fortunes by +1 (taking it from +0 to +1). Fortunes is the village’s primary stat, and we’ll use it to roll both Pull Together (for Vahid’s rainwater project4 as well as anything Padrig gets up to to help prepare the village) as well as the Seasons Change move for Winter.
Next, we roll for the harvest — the village currently has 3 Surplus (thanks to some extra hunting bounty back in the Spring). We roll 1d4+1 for the autumn harvest, and get 4, leaving us with 7 surplus total. It was a pretty good harvest, and the village seems to be doing well overall, as surviving a normal winter will take between 2 and 5 surplus.
[Editing note: During the autumn hiatus, I looked back over my notes and realized that I had miscalculated the village’s total surplus stores, by not charging for various Pull Together attempts. The village in fact ends the year with 5 Surplus, not 7.]
For the montage, we’ll answer the same question for each player-character: How do we find ourselves passing the time? Specifically, we’ll envision how each character aids the village with the harvest.
The party approaches the southern watchtower.
Montage: Home again
Padrig’s recruits lead the party homeward across the Flats, constantly chattering in the Steptongue and occasionally bickering, the whole five days back. They arrive home near sunset, and the harvest has begun. Once the party passes through one of the gaps in the Old Wall, they see the fields thick with villagers, cutting the ripened grain stalks with sickles and binding them to sheaves, all under the watchful eye of Owain and his hand-picked overseers. As they ride by, the farmers greet them warmly — Padrig sees Rhys5 and his work gang as they approach the southern watchtower, and they give a cheer to see the party returned home safely.
Padrig’s Companions are not shy of telling tales, and word spreads quickly about what happened among the Hillfolk and that a band of Stonefolk saved the Sun-Spear from certain disaster at the hands of a dangerous sorcerer. The village buzzes with pride and excitement, but whispers of the hdour spread as well, and the grumblers among the village mutter of dark days to come.
But there is not much time to exalt in victory or fear for the future, for there is work to be done. Anwen, Padrig, and Vahid fall back into the daily rhythm of autumn in the village. Padrig and the Companions join the hunters’ lodge and venture daily into the Great Wood in search of roebuck and snare-caught coneys. Donal, the company’s best tracker, has won the admiration of the Stonetop hunters. Ronhl and Merid, the Hillfolk newcomers, are overawed by towering trees of Stonetop’s forest and speak only in reverent whispers whenever they go forth.
Anwen rejoins her friends among the herders, helping Cadwyn and Olwyn watch over their herds during the breeding season. While the sheep and goats graze, the younger herders beg Anwen for tales of Hillfolk, and she obliges them.
The village is slow to warm to Vahid’s new visage, finding it hard to meet his gaze or look upon his strange, twisted hand. Rather than withdraw to bitter loneliness, Vahid thinks of Solnn’s eulogy for the fallen Hillfolk6 and finds a task to occupy his hands, keeping company mostly with Elder Garet7.
Vahid aids him in keeping the Stonetop chronicle, tallying the harvest so that future harvests can be measured against it and it against past harvests. The harvest is brought in, the town’s larder grows fuller every day, and as Garet and Cerys pour over Vahid’s careful records, their mood grows more relaxed. It is a fine harvest, and the granary is near-full.
Cerys announces this to the village, ringing in the feast of calangaeaf8. Bonfires are built between Stonetop’s long feasting tables to keep the coming winter’s chill at bay, and the whole village turns out for a final night of merriment before the dark of winter.
The tables are heaped with lamb, mutton and venison, goat and sheep’s milk cheese, and thick, crusty bread. Beer and Stonetop whiskey flow freely, and when night falls, the boldest of the feastgoers begin to try their luck against the flames, challenging one another to leap over the bonfires as the village's children, their faces painted spirit-white, are charged with building them higher and higher.
Anwen and Padrig sit among the Companions, their length of the feasting table piled high with cleaned plates and drained cups. Ozbeg leans back, his hands patting his ample belly. “This was fine. This was very fine indeed,” the old bandit muses.
“I hope there’s some victuals left for the winter, old man!” Anwen chortles. “I’ve never seen someone eat so much.”
“A wandering warrior never knows when he might have another chance to feast. Remember this, you young pup!” He gestures with drunken expansiveness to the pile of picked-at bones and cheese rinds sitting before him, his arm waving unsteadily. “What you see here is the result of careful strategy. I am taking on stores for whatever battles might come!”
Padrig smiles warmly and rises, excusing himself. “I haven’t seen our Seeker at the revel. I think best to look in on him,” he winks at Anwen. “Try to keep them out of trouble.”
Ozbeg casts an appraising eye at Anwen and then to the fires, growing ever higher as the laughing children add deadfall branches to the flames. “So, girl. Are you going to try your courage against the flames? Is it not the way of your people? Tor knows you’ve faced worse and won.”
Anwen looks at the flames and the laughing and shouting warriors surrounding them and hesitates. She thinks of the smoke, and the wildfire's searing heat. And then of Kirs, falling at the feet of the monstrous Stormcrow. She looks at Ozbeg, whose expression is growing confused and concerned, and smiles at him reassuringly. She remembers him urging her to victory in the warrior’s circle and Juba’s parting words, telling her to burn brightly.
Over and over again, she leaps over the growing flames until only a few revelers remain — all members of the warrior’s circle. Owain, seated at the high table at Cerys’ left hand, watches impassively as his chosen fighters try to outdo Anwen, but finally, Garet calls a stop to the play. As is tradition, the children whisper and laugh among themselves before naming her as the bravest of the field, and placing a crown of woven branches on her brow to a great drunken cheer.
Vahid can only just hear the cheer, sitting on the stacked stone ringwall, looking out at the twin moons rising over the horizon. Here, away from the bonfires, the autumn night feels like winter, and Vahid’s breath fogs in the air before him.
Behind him, he can hear the crunch of boots approaching, and Padrig greets him. “You have no stomach for feasting, Seeker?” Pad looks down at the wooden plate balanced on the rocks next to the scholar — a single crust of bread and rind of cheese are left.
Vahid reaches down and gives the bread crust a meditative bite. “Not tonight, I fear. I am thinking on the coming winter. The larder is near-full but not full. The militia needs training, I suspect, though you would be a better judge than I. And once the Spring thaw comes, I think we ought to seek Stormcatcher’s crown. I have a lead we might follow, but…”
Padrig cuts him off with a raised hand. “Peace, friend. It’s a feast day. It will keep until tomorrow.”
Vahid chuckles nervously. “I suppose it will. I am sorry to darken the mood. But I cannot shake the fear that the worst is yet to come. If the hdour can command the very seasons, would he not seek to harrow Stonetop, as he did the Sun-Spear?”
Padrig steps over the ringwall to take a seat next to the scholar. “Perhaps he will. But the Stonefolk are accustomed to the winter, Vahid. The larder is close enough to full. We have done everything we can; all that is left is to go onward. That’s what I intend to do, in any case.”
“Of course you are right, my friend. I just hope it is enough.” He turns his gaze to the dark skies above, and his blue eyes glow softly in the night.
Seasons Change: Winter
We’ll close out the episode with one final roll — and it’s a big one. We’re triggering Seasons Change: Winter.
If we score a strong hit on the second portion of this move, the winter will pass uneventfully — the village has more than enough Surplus to survive no matter how high we roll on that first 1d4+Population9 roll. If we roll a weak hit or a miss, the winter is a nasty one, and we may not have enough food to avoid starvation among the villagers (unless someone takes some heroic action, of course).
Vahid triggers Seasons Change: Winter: 3+2+1 Fortunes = 6, Miss.
The winter will be long, harsh and brutal, and threats abound. Will the village face starvation? Will the hdour strike in the dark nights of winter? What chaos will Brennan sow in Marshedge? We’ll play to find out what happens when we return.
That’s a wrap (til October)!
Thanks so very much for reading PTFO:Stonetop for as long as you’ve been reading! It’s been a blast to write, and I am excited to return to the story after I’ve tackled some of my own abounding threats and recharged my batteries a bit. I’ll still be checking in on comments while I’m handling things, so if you have any questions or thoughts while we are hiatusing, feel free to hit the button and share ‘em!
This is ancient greek, standing in for the Maker-tongue — the ancients didn’t distinguish very much between different forms of intoxication, and their human successors don’t either.
I wonder, a threat by the hdour could make need for an interesting winter expedition to maybe Gordin’s Delve to maybe seek the crown earlier then expected.
Then again, maybe a non (at least, directly) hdour/hillfolk related threat would be more interesting...
Brennan and Anwens mother could be explored and maybe get some closures before we close the campaign? But also might be not enough time... a well....
I think we should see if the first winter noms the max (5) surplus to set the tone °L°
An excellent place to take a well deserved break. I hope the work projects and family business go without a hitch.
I like the mechanics for the passing of the seasons and the way Stonetop allows for compression of time. I see a hard winter ahead.
I wonder, a threat by the hdour could make need for an interesting winter expedition to maybe Gordin’s Delve to maybe seek the crown earlier then expected.
Then again, maybe a non (at least, directly) hdour/hillfolk related threat would be more interesting...
Brennan and Anwens mother could be explored and maybe get some closures before we close the campaign? But also might be not enough time... a well....
I think we should see if the first winter noms the max (5) surplus to set the tone °L°