This week was a tough one — I was laid up with a nasty toddler-borne headcold for multiple nights (not COVID, thankfully). I had full notes for this episode, but unfortunately I was unable to complete the episode itself in a timely fashion. As I type this on Sunday evening, I am still pretty stuffed up and wiped out.
I didn’t want to postpone until next week, though, so we’ll do part one today and part two next week — two shorter installments leading up to the next reader decision point. Normally I’d just mark them entirely separate episodes, but these scenes work pretty tightly together, so I think this is the (slightly) less awkward thing to do.
Recap & Poll Results
Last episode, our heroes did their best to help Stonetop weather winter and prepare for the looming threat of the hdour’s minions who have begun encroaching on their territory. Padrig (with some prodding from Ozbeg) resolved to begin training a group from among the hunters, herdsfolk, and other supporters of our heroes to patrol the backcountry around the village, and Vahid argued forcefully before the elders and the assembled villagers that he be allowed to do so, despite Owain’s notional command of Stonetop’s fighters.
Owain didn’t take kindly to this erosion of his authority and so engineered a training accident that badly injured Rhys1, one of the party’s biggest supporters among the villagers. Or so Anwen strongly believes — accidents do happen, after all. Anwen has always hated Owain’s swaggering, bullying airs, and planned to confront and accuse him for all to see. Padrig, however, counseled caution, which is not surprising, given that his instinct is Caution, meaning he is incentivized with extra end-of-session XP to keep everyone safe (or at least, to struggle with that impulse). We left Anwen’s choice up to the readers — let’s see what you all chose:
I have to confess, this one surprised me — almost always when the option comes down to “do the thing” vs. “don’t do the thing,” we have consistently voted in favor of thing-doing. But not today! Padrig’s prudence wins over Anwen. Last week’s comments section didn’t have much in the way of folks’ thought processes, so I’d be super curious to hear why you voted the way you did this time!
Anwen is still in the spotlight. What does she do next? She has an instinct, too — Defiance, to not back down or give up. She’ll heed Padrig, but she firmly believes that Owain’s still a menace and someone needs to put a stop to his bullying or it’ll just get worse.
Padrig reminded Anwen that back in the summer, she swore to Cerys that she wouldn’t cause strife with Owain2. If she can’t confront him directly, maybe she can confront Cerys instead and ask her whether she approves of her son injuring a prominent and important member of Stonetop’s community. But Anwen’s a bit intimidated by Cerys, so perhaps some backup would help — we’ll frame the end of the montage for Anwen and Vahid to make a plan about it.
Padrig, as ever, counsels caution. “No. That’s what Owain wants; it will just lead to more and bloodier strife. Strife is death in the winter. And you swore to Cerys that you wouldn’t cross Owain again. Will you be forsworn?”
The word ‘forsworn’ hits Anwen like a cudgel, stopping her short and blunting the sharp edge of her anger. She blinks back tears of anger and frustration and storms from the hut into the frigid evening air. Ozbeg makes to follow her, but Pad holds him back with a raised arm. “Let her go. She’ll be all right.”
Wordlessly, Vahid rises from his cross-legged seat and makes for the door. Padrig opens his mouth to give him the same order he gave his lieutenant, but when he meets the Seeker’s strange, blue-white eyes, he thinks the better of it.
Vahid finds Anwen sitting on the stacked stone ringwall, snow flurries clinging to her copper hair. He stands behind her, waiting for her to speak.
“We can’t just do nothing.”
“I agree. But Padrig is right: If you call him out, it will be seen as an escalation. No one wants that, especially in the winter. So, what will you do?”
“Pad is telling me to cool my head, and someone needs to tell Owain the same. I would speak with Cerys about it, but she’s just so twisty. I can never tell what she means to do. For all we know, she’s behind Owain every step of the way!”
Vahid pauses meditatively. “I may be able to glean her intent.”
Anwen turns to him, her face lighting with a bit of hope, before falling again. “She’ll never speak openly in front of you. You’re an outsider.”
“She need not. The third eye renders the physical world insubstantial so that the forms of thought and mind can be seen3. While you speak to her in her healing hut, I can perceive her thoughts from outside. If she is deceiving you, we will know.”
“You’ll read her mind with your magic? Vahid, I don’t know.”
“There is no law or custom against it.”
“Why would we have a law against that?” Anwen exclaims. “We’re farmers and herders, not magi!”
“If she speaks with you openly and honestly, she has nothing to fear. Have there not been times when you wished people could see the truth of your words? That you could show the contents of your heart to them so they could trust you?”
“I’ve never imagined something like that. Of course there have been!” She pauses. “But Cerys isn’t like me.”
“Perhaps, in this, she should be.”
Anwen thinks long and hard. “Alright. We need to know where she stands, truly. I will speak to her tomorrow morning.”
Vahid nods. “And I will be watching.”
Setting the Scene: Confronting Cerys
Before we dive into the next scene, let’s think a bit about Cerys and how she might respond to Anwen’s confrontation. Since Session Zero, her role has been a homefront threat that the PCs can’t just stab to death. The Wildcard threat type works perfectly for her:
In the past, she’s already used a bunch of these, including provide advice, wanted or not (back when she counseled Anwen not to challenge the warrior’s circle for her initiation in Session 5), keep a secret (the truth about Anwen’s mother, what happened to Blodwen in the Green Lord’s ruin), demand a promise (Anwen’s truce with Owain).
How might she respond to Anwen’s demands? Best to keep our options open, and see how the dice fall. But we do have some established facts to go on:
We generated Bond as a theme for her character using the Ironsworn character oracle and interpreted that to mean that her instinct is to keep the village together and as harmonious as possible.
Owain is her son and she supports him, but she’s also intimated that the village comes first — always. From Session 5.5, when Anwen asked her how she would’ve felt if Owain had been killed by the Thunder Drake:
“Owain has already given Stonetop children to carry on his duties when he is gone. He has led the warrior’s circle with honor. When fate calls upon him to lay down his life for his people, I will welcome it. That is how his father died, after all,” Cerys says.
Finally, she claims that she valued her close, adoptive-grandmother relationship with Anwen, and wishes to mend it. We have to remember that for the first 15 or so years of Anwen’s life, Cerys was a stand-in grandparent and saw to both her and her mother’s needs. From the same scene:
“It hurts me, Anwen, this strife between us. Since you first came to us with your mother, I had hoped you might take up my path.”
It’s not clear-cut, of course — even if she was being sincere all those times, and not just manipulating Anwen into going along with Owain’s leadership and trying to dissuade her from following the warrior’s path, she might still truly believe that Owain is the best choice for Marshall and is doing right by the village, in his own way. We’ll have to play to find out if Anwen can convince her to intervene with her son.
Scene 2: The Healing Hut
The next morning dawns cold, clear, and still. Anwen rises early, in the dark before dawn, and with trepidation she approaches Cerys’ healing hut, louring at the edge of the cliff and overlooking the Great Wood to the north.
Vahid awaits her, standing at the cliff’s edge a few dozen paces from Cerys’ abode. His spirit-bound cloak rustles in its own breeze, despite the stillness of the air. Their eyes meet, and Anwen steels herself and steps through the shadowed threshold.
Cerys is there, lit by candles and wreathed in the smoke of sage and redgrass. The air and the smell are thick, and Anwen’s eyes tear up, but the old priestess is seemingly unbothered. The healing hut is one of the larger in the village, and its main room is centered by a low stone table, at which Cerys sits quietly on her knees. On the table are a sharp stone dagger and the remnants of a crow, the blade and its black feathers wet with blood, which Cerys regards with a grim and pensive look.
She composes herself when Anwen enters, and when she recognizes Anwen in the shadowy light, she becomes inscrutable.
Outside, Vahid meditates, opens his third eye, and attempts to make Cerys a bit less inscrutable. He need not roll to invoke the arcanum, he just needs to study Cerys and see what he can glean:
Vahid triggers Seek Insight: 4+1+1 Wisdom = 6, Miss.
I haven’t done a full accounting, but it does seem like there’s a bit of an albatross hanging around Vahid’s neck when it comes to rolls. He won’t be able to look into Cerys’ heart today, as something has distracted him. We’ll finish Anwen’s scene in the first part of this episode, and Vahid’s curveball will come in part two.
“Anwen. The divinations point to a long, cold winter marked by pain and loss, and you appear here on my doorstep. What troubles have brought with you?”
“None that aren’t already yours. Your son Owain.”
“What of him?”
“You made me promise to have no more strife with him, but you let him run rampant, hurting his neighbors and sewing fear. Someone needs to put him in his place, and I cannot, or I would be forsworn to you.”
“Owain and his men stand watch over this village. If any sleep soundly here, it is because of his vigilance. How dare you speak of him this way? Your misguided adventures have brought no good to Stonetop — they have only served to aggrandize yourself and your circle, nothing more.”
Anwen seethes with anger at this casual dismissal of her and her companions, but she presses her attack. “What about Rhys? Does Rhys sleep soundly? Who will lead his work gang come spring if his leg will not mend? Who will see that Blodwen and Beca are provided for?”
Cerys dismisses this with a contemptuous wave of her wizened hand, antler bangles clattering. “I will see to his injuries. He was careless at training, nothing more. You are so filled with spite and jealousy against my son that you can see nothing but villainy in him.”
“Ask him, then.”
“What?”
“Ask him if he hurt Rhys on purpose or ordered one of his men to. Turn your keen eye on your own son for once, and take his measure honestly.”
“Ridiculous. I do not need to ask him; I know the answer already.”
“Do you? Then make him swear the same oath you made me, and see what he says. No strife between him and Padrig and the Companions.”
Cerys’ lip curls at the mention of Padrig’s name. “That man does not deserve your faith, Anwen.”
“Padrig is a good man! He wants to serve the village!” Anwen cries.
“I sat at his mother’s bedside as she died, begging to know what had become of her wayward son!” Cerys thunders, rising to meet Anwen’s anger before mastering herself again, her voice going cold. “The Lady of Crows took his father two seasons later. They poured their love and care, their wisdom and skill into that boy, and he repaid it by forsaking them in favor of a life of violence."
Cerys raises her hand, ticking off Padrig's crimes on her bony fingers. "How many starving mouths could he have fed with his bow, lo the dozen winters he was absent? Seven winters ago, when sweet little Siân went missing in the Great Wood, perhaps he might have brought her home, as he did Blodwen, and spared her family that grief?” Anwen waits, fearing Cerys will speak of the night when her youngest son, Ifan4, was taken by the crinwin, and Padrig was forced to leave him behind. But Cerys leaves his name unsaid.
The room is cold and silent for a time before she continues. “And now he returns, asking for succor. Stonefolk have short memories, but I remember for them. I will not put my trust in that man on this side of the Last Door. He should have died far from home, as befits a common bandit.”
Anwen’s voice goes quiet now, almost pleading. “He made an awful mistake. He’s trying to put it right, and I mean to help him. There are terrible things coming to our home, Cerys.”
She draws Kirs’ bronze dagger from her belt, blacked and melted where it drew blood from the storm-marked assassin, and places it on the table5. She holds her palm open, showing the burn-scarred flesh where she held the blade. “Owain needs our help, Cerys. He’s never fought the Hillfolk. Padrig has. I have.” She hesitates to name Vahid, thinking of him waiting and watching outside. A sharp wind blows through the hut, towards the cliff, guttering the candles.
“Please, Cerys. You took me in as your granddaughter. I am pleading for your hand to be even, between my uncle and me. Ask him about Rhys. Bid him swear a truce with Padrig. If only to see what he says.”
This is a lengthy trigger for Persuade — let’s see what Cerys makes of it all. Anwen is also triggering her move Speak Truth to Power, which gives her advantage when she demands someone ‘do the right thing,’ which she obviously thinks this is.
Cerys will help, but she has a condition. Her modus operandi in these situations seems to be demand a promise (from the threat move list above), and I think in this case she wants to test Anwen’s claims of granddaughter-hood by making her choose between her loyalty to the village and her loyalty to Padrig personally, so she’s also using trigger a confrontation — a Wildcard double-whammy.
Cerys eyes grow very intent on Anwen. She glances down to the crow’s entrails, then back to her adoptive granddaughter.
“Very well. I will speak to Owain, and extract this oath from him. But you and he are not the only ones who must keep the truce. Padrig must swear as well.”
“Padrig will be eager to swear a truce, I’m sure!” Anwen says, her voice rising with hope.
“Padrig must swear a greater oath.” As she speaks, she draws a small pouch of stitched hide from her belt, and places it on the stone table between them.
“What must he promise?” Anwen asks, the hope in her voice giving way to trepidation.
“He must swear, as long as he lives, that he will never wear the mantle of the Marshal of Stonetop. He must never usurp Owain and lead the warrior’s circle or command the militia. He abandoned us. In his wandering, he has made enemies, he carries an infamous name and debts of blood. Surely you can see he can never have such a high and trusted place in our village.”
“What? Why should he promise that? What right have you to ask it of him?”
“I am not done asking.” She reaches into the pouch before her and draws out a small, black seed, round, shiny, and sharp with thorns, carved with a single rune. “When he swears, he will swear before the Earthmother and swallow this, her judgment. If he is forsworn, he will know her terrible wrath.”
Anwen snorts. “Padrig doesn’t even want to be Marshal. He just wants a bit of peace for himself and his warriors.”
Cerys smiles pointedly. “Then he has nothing to fear by swearing.” She presses the seed into Anwen’s hand, and she feels a strange, sharp tingle where it touches her. “Ask him. If only to see what he says. If you are truly my granddaughter, you can do me this service.”
Anwen looks down at the seed, and closes her hand around it, feeling the unsettling prickles crawling up her arm before they subside as quickly as they came. She takes up and sheathes her dagger before withdrawing quietly from the healing hut, leaving Cerys to her divinations.
And we’ll leave it there for this week — next Monday’s installment will conclude this episode. We’ll see what happened to Vahid as he stood watch, and hear what Padrig has to say about all this oath-swearing!
Rhys, you may recall, is favorably disposed to the party because they braved the dark of the Great Wood and rescued his sister, Blodwen, way back in Session 1.
Technically, Anwen swore not to interfere with Owain bringing in the harvest, but Cerys is not above stretching the letter of the oath, and the village still is in a precarious position. You can see that scene in Session 5.6.
This is mentioned way back in Padrig’s Session Zero, and is the number one reason why he’s on Cerys’ shitlist. Anwen still has nightmares about the bloated Crinwin hive-father she saw, which we established in her own Session Zero.
Recall that Katrin gave Anwen this dagger after Kirs’ funeral back in Session 8.4. The dagger is mundane, and has no extra mechanical abilities, but the details we’ve envisioned for it do allow for a bit of fictional positioning here.
Man, in the scheme of things, this isn't the worst roll for Vahid to muff, but yeesh.
I voted for Padraig's caution because I thought there were too many unknowns about Cerys and the consequences of breaking an oath with her.
The group as a whole already have a lot to deal with. 'Strife is death in the winter,' is a great little folksy axiom, by the way.