Session 11.3: The Valerix

Vahid strikes out alone. The Valerix makes an offer. Heated negotiations ensue.

Last episode, we walked with Vahid and Anwen through the streets of Gordin’s Delve, where they came across a strange procession — six of the mysterious and alien Ustrina, who visit Gordin’s Delve periodically to trade in wonders of a bygone age. The apparent leader of this company, a gold-masked creature whom the others referred to as “The Valerix,” left Vahid with a calling card and an invitation to visit him in one of the town’s well-defended caravanserai.

This brush with the otherworldly was too much for Vahid to resist — when they arrived at their presumptive safehouse, a brothel owned by an old friend of Ozbeg’s named Madame Parvati, he decided to seek out the Ustrina to see what could be learned from them.

Last week we ended with a poll regarding Anwen’s evening spent (quietly) carousing at Madame Parvati’s fine establishment. She had an opportunity to perhaps learn some useful or juicy scuttlebutt by listening carefully to the other patrons, but true to her friendly character, the reader’s choice was for her to make a loyal new friend — the brothel’s bouncer, Baraz.

We won’t start there, however — we’ll rejoin the action with Vahid, arriving at the Serai of the Red Arch for his audience with the Valerix!

Scene 4: Meanwhile, on the streets of the Swap

Vahid, his hood pulled down and his eyes low, navigates through the Swap, picking his way through the crowd thinning as sunset draws near. Shopkeeps and landlords have begun to hang lanterns from their stalls and tenement windows, chasing the lengthening shadows with pools of orange-red light and filling the air with the smell of burning oil.

Nearby the stairs up to the fourth terrace, a crowd of unfortunates has congregated, begging passersby for scraps — a half-dozen ragged men and women; some are injured from the mines or the forges, others are slumped with glassy eyes or terrible coughs, too sick to work and thrown out into the streets to fend for themselves. Vahid kneels beside one — a leather-faced man with a wiry black beard, cradling bandaged arm in his lap and balancing a wooden bowl on his knee. In it are a few dirty slugs of copper.

“I’m looking for the Serai of the Red Arch.”

The beggar’s eyes lock onto Vahid, but his expression doesn’t change from his look of sad determination. “The Delve is full of seekers.”

Vahid reaches into his cloak and withdraws a gold bezant, placing it softly in the bowl. “Here is a gift, then, on behalf of all the seekers of the Delve. May they each find what they seek.”

The man’s eyes narrow, and he leans forward, trying to see beneath Vahid’s hood. “Who are you?”

“No one of consequence. Where is the serai?”

Vahid triggers Persuade: 6+6+1 Charisma = 13, Strong Hit

Vahid’s not just trying to get the information from this man, he’s also trying to buy the man’s silence. Thanks to a strong roll (finally!), he succeeds.

“The highest terrace, near the entrance to the first Delve. Keep climbing until you reach where the two arms of the mountain meet. You cannot mistake it.”

“Thank you. May you find what you seek as well, friend.” He bows his head and departs, looking for a path through the tangled shanties up to the next terrace.

Scene 5: Outside the Serai of the Red Arch

The seventh and highest terrace is also the smallest — a triangular plaza rough-hewn stone blocks. At the far edge stands the entrance to the first Delve, a great doorway of Maker-craft, hewn into the stone of the mountain, built tall and wide by the giants who once strode these terraces.

The edges of the plaza are crowded with warehouses and supply dumps. The sun is setting now, and the last and most daring of the mining crews are making their way out from the Delve, pushing mine carts laden with black and reddish rock and hauling bundles of shovels, picks, and adze atop their shoulders.

Across the plaza from the bustle of miners taking their hard-won harvest from the mountain to the storehouses stands the Serai of the Red Arch. It is a sturdy stone block of a building, raised by the Makers a millennia ago, their stonecraft still weathering the test of time. The facade is an intricate stone trellis decorated with finely-wrought metal plates in rusting iron and patinated bronze, their fading carvings depicting curling flames reaching for the heavens. In the dead center of the facade is a massive archway carved from red stone, the color of drying blood.

In the flickering light of oil lamps, Vahid sees dark shapes by the entrance. A trio of well-armed and armored bravos stands guard at the entryway, and behind them, a tall, black-robed Ustrina watches impassively. The lead bravo, a short-haired woman with the gap-toothed grin of a brawler, negotiates with a stooped, shady-looking merchant. who heads a small gang of workmen hauling pair of wooden sleds. One carries a half-dozen clay jugs, bound together with rough hemp rope and sealed with wax. The other is stacked with long, linen-wrapped bundles.

Vahid notes with grim fascination that the lumpen bundles are each about as long as a person is tall and stained here and there with dark patches. The bravos shift uncomfortably from foot to foot when the Ustrina itself approaches and examines the cargo carefully, scratching the sharp nail of its metallic gloves across the wax seals of the jars and poking and prodding the bundles until it is satisfied. One of the bundles stirs and emits a low, quiet groan. The Ustrina glances sharply at the merchant, who looks appalled and shrugs helplessly. He gestures frantically at the bravos, and their leader sighs, draws her hatchet from the iron loop at her belt, and lays in a savage strike with the axehead’s blunt side. The bundle shudders and then is very still indeed.

Vahid flinches at this sudden violence before quickly composing himself — he thinks of Padrig’s exhortation a few nights ago, as they fled from the hdour’s minions. “All the hardship you have so far endured has prepared you for this moment,” he whispers to himself. He puts on his best imitation of a mysterious and powerful magus, and strides toward the archway.

I have had a devil of a time trying to get a good portrait of Vahid from AI — in particular, the blue eyes and the burnt hand seem to present an insurmountable challenge to our future robot overlords. But here’s a version that at least has a bit of the Seeker in it. Source: Midjourney

As he approaches, one of the guards moves to intercept him — he is a tall, fat-bellied Manmarcher, his face reddened by the sun and mountain wind. “Halt zee,” he calls out in marchsprech, before brusquely rattling off the word for “wait” in three other tongues.

Vahid holds up the black stone coin¹ for inspection. “Ech verd evarteht,” he replies — I am awaited.

The guard looks unimpressed, but the black, hollow eyes in the Ustrina’s bronze mask snap to attention onto the strange token. It points a gloved finger at Vahid — the metal gauntlets end in wicked talons, he now sees — and in an echoing, metallic rasp, it intones: “Admit this one to the serai. At once.”

The merchant cries out as though struck. “We have business with the Valerix! We have taken great pains to deliver what it asked for!”

“This one will wait. Wait!” It cries, its tone rising to a near-shriek.

“We arrived first!” he cries helplessly.

The lead bravo now interposes herself between her apparent employer and the merchant. “Does it look like it gives a shit?” she snarls. “You’ll wait, and you’ll be happy to wait. Or you’ll get nothing, and you can dispose of this meat yourself.”

The merchant is cowed, and the woman rounds on Vahid. “You! Must be your lucky night.” She motions to the Manmarcher, who puts his shoulder against the heavy bronze door, opening it wide enough for Vahid to pass through, and gestures him in. With a deep breath and a quiet prayer to the Lawkeeper for safe passage, Vahid passes beneath the red arch and enters the serai, as the door closes heavily behind him.

The interior of the serai is shadowy, lit only by a handful of brightly burning oil lamps hanging from the ceiling by metal chains. It is one large chamber, divided into a few rooms by tall, wrought-iron trellises, which cast strange patterns in the flickering lamplight. As he moves deeper into the serai, Vahid can see dark shapes moving in the far chambers -- black-robed figures moving to and fro with a strange, jerking motion, very different from the slow, rigid formality Vahid saw on the market street.

Vahid slowly makes his way to the center of the serai, where the Valerix holds court. The gold-masked Ustrina sits silently on a low bronze bench, elevated above the serai’s stone floor on a round dais, and its dozen attendants are arranged kneeling in two neat rows before it. As he approaches, they all turn as one to look at him, a multitude of hollow black eyes staring from bronze masks, some laughing and grinning, some twisted in dismay or anger.

The Ustrina nearest the Valerix’s right hand rises and stands beside it at the dais. As best as the Seeker can tell, it is the same creature that handed him the token earlier this day. Vahid clears his throat, and summons the ancient language of the Stone Lords to his mind before speaking.

“As you bid me call on you, O Valerix, I, Vahid ebn Sulaim, am here. What do you wish of me?”

The Valerix leans forward — Vahid can not see its eyes, but it can feel the creature’s attention on him, and his storm-marked eyes can see the firey vis² burning within the Valerix, animating its body and mind.

“The Valerix wishes to know how you came by the staff you bear — the key of Indrasduthir, the hand that catches storms,” the speaker rattles in a hollow, metallic voice.

“It came to me in my travels,” Vahid replies evasively. “As though delivered by the hand of fate.”

“And now fate has delivered it here, to the Valerix. What you carry is a treasure of great significance. It belongs with those who serve the Makers still.”

“I serve the Makers and their works, in my own way.”

“Be that as it may: We would pay you a kingly price for its return.” The speaker makes a sharp gesture, and in unison, three of the Ustrina quickly advance on Vahid, revealing from the folds of their voluminous black robes small, iron chests with intricate bronze locks. In turn, the three Ustrina lay the chests on the floor in front of Vahid, and open them before falling back to a respectful distance.

The first simply contains a hoard of gold coins — larger and thicker than bezants, and worn nearly smooth by time. The second contains four oblong ingots of reddish-bronze metal nested in velvet cloth. The third has a small songbird wrought from a silvery metal set with eyes of agate. As the box opens, the bird whirrs to life, flapping its tin wings and singing a few haunting warbles on a slow loop. “Precious gold, purifying orichalcum, and a small wonder from the workshops of our most brilliant and inventive masters. Each is a treasure beyond price among your people. Take them, and leave us with our relic.”

Vahid looks down on these treasures — the Valerix’s speaker does not lie, each chest holds a fortune beyond the imaginings of most of the folk in the Delve. He looks back up at the Valerix, his blue eyes set with determination. “No. The Azure Hand is a blessing and a burden I have chosen. My time with it is not yet done.”

The speaker’s tone grows more urgent. “It is a dangerous thing to carry, human. Holding the work of so great a master as Indrasduthir close to your frail form will wound you in ways cruel and subtle.”

Vahid shakes his head again, and draws his burnt, blackened hand from his cloak, holding it up before the Valerix. “What wounds it has given me, I have endured. And I will endure whatever comes. I have become quite adept at its use. Perhaps there is some service I could do for you, O great Valerix — in exchange for some wisdom of the ancients.”

Now the Valerix itself rises from its high seat and speaks directly. The tone of its voice is higher pitched and clear like a ringing bell. “Such arrogance,” it intones. “The tools of the Makers are not meant for the hands of humans. You must yield it to those who still serve, as the Ustrina do.”

“The Makers are long gone, and their works are left to those who can understand them.”

“You will never understand the minds of the Makers!” the Valerix cries. “You are nothing but meat, crawled out of the muck and mire of this fallen world! Born by chance, not made with purpose! Frail and imperfect. Everything you have ever learned, ever created, is but a pathetic imitation of your betters.”

Vahid draws himself up, his pride stung. “I have studied the Makers and their great and terrible works my whole life. They are not my betters. They were cruel masters, and upon their ruins, we can take up their tools and build something greater.”

“Blasphemy! Blasphemy!” the Ustrina shrieks. “You are but a filth-smeared ape, soiling the great works of Indrasduthir with your horrid touch. If you will not yield the Hand, we will take it from you!”

The Valerix lets out a horrid, screeching sound, metal on metal, and the Ustrina react instantly -- the three who first bore the treasures forward drop to all fours, their bodies twisting and folding unnaturally. Together they rush at Vahid, spiderlike in their movement, their metal gloves striking sparks from the stone and bronze floor of the serai as they charge.

Some distant part of Vahid’s mind considers the fact that Anwen and Padrig may have been right — that seeking the secrets of the Makers here was too dangerous an undertaking to go alone. But nevertheless, he does not hesitate: He holds the Azure Hand before him, brandishing it at the charging creatures, and with his hand in the unseen world, he reaches out for the heart fire that animates his first assailant.

The grip of the Azure Hand finds its quarry, and Vahid rips the vis from the creature’s body, summoning it to a burning vortex around the head of the staff. The creature doesn’t even have time to cry out — it drops to the floor limply like a marionette with its strings cut.

As the second attacker comes on, Vahid meets it with the stolen heart fire, casting it with his will from the Azure Hand’s grip. A streak of red fire cuts through the darkness, leaving a sparkling trail in Vahid’s vision as it strikes the Ustina. The flame ignites the creature’s robes, and in an instant, it is engulfed, its gauntleted hands flailing and tearing at its burning garments as it shrieks in pain. “They still burn,” Vahid thinks, relieved only for a moment before the final Ustrina is upon him.

Scene Breakdown

The first roll in the scene is when Vahid uses the Azure Hand for its core purpose — to control and ensnare sources of elemental energy. We’ll get into the fictional positioning for using it against the Ustrina in a second, but first let’s look at the rolls and their outcomes. First, against the lead attacker, Vahid simply grasps the elemental fire that animates him and draws it to the Hand.

Vahid triggers The Azure Hand: 6+1+1 Constitution = 8, Weak Hit

A weak hit means that he succeeds in controlling the energy, but it’s unstable, and maintaining it requires all his focus. To whit, he immediately discharges it, using the elemental energy as a weapon.

Vahid triggers Let Fly: 6+4+2 Intelligence = 12, Strong Hit

Normally for the Azure Hand’s offensive ability, I default to 1d6 damage (that’s the Seeker’s damage die) but given that we’re dealing with some sort of mystical heart-fire, I upped it to 1d8, and Vahid deals 7 damage, enough to put down another Ustrina (I didn’t generate full stats for them, I generally assume that groups of humanoid creatures have 6HP each and deal 1d6 damage).

That brings us current with the action, but I wanted to address why I decided the Azure Hand functions so strongly against the Ustrina. First, what are the Ustrina, anyway? Stonetop’s worldbuilding almanac doesn't answer this question — it instead provides a list of possible answers for GMs to choose from so that everyone’s version of Stonetop can be a little different and uniquely suited to the playgroup. Here’s that section for the Ustrina:

Source: Stonetop // Jeremy Strandberg

I will say, I love this approach for TTRPG worldbuilding — for me, it’s very much the best of both worlds, where I simultaneously get to be creative during prep while still having a strong foundation to build upon. It’s also nice that it allows the players to read the worldbuilding materials without having definitive answers about some of the secrets of the setting.

For our Ustrina, I picked a combination of #3 and #5 — they are ancient servants of the Forge Lords who have given over their flesh bodies in large part to intricate clockwork mechanisms that are powered by bound fire spirits. Last session, Vahid was able to sense this instantly with his storm-marked eyes which allow him to perceive the flow of elemental energy.

As a result, when Vahid draws the elemental energy from the Ustrina’s body, the clockwork portions of its anatomy cease to function. This kills the Ustrina. And when he flings heart-fire at another Ustrina, the organic parts that still remain are none too happy — though that Ustrina will probably survive. One attacker remains, and we’re back to the action:

The other Ustrina, positioned between Vahid and the Valerix are on their feet now, moving to surround Vahid to cut off his escape as the third and final attacker reaches its prey. It lashes out with near-preternatural speed, its black cloak whipping through the air behind it. Vahid lifts the heavy Azure Hand to intercept the blow, and a shower of blue-white sparks springs out as the creature's claws scrape against the aetherium. Vahid feels the blow resonate through his body in sympathetic agony, so bound to the Hand he is.

Vahid triggers Defend: 5+4+1 Constitution = 10, Strong Hit

Vahid parries the blow from the Ustrina, but since he’s using the Azure Hand to defend himself and since Session 6.3 he’s been spiritually bound to it, he feels it when the Ustrina’s claws strike the hand, and he suffers 3 damage³ despite the successful roll.

With a little breathing room from his Defend move Vahid now makes use of the staff against the Valerix itself. He’s not trying to kill it right away — he just wants to let it know that he can, so instead of triggering the Azure Hand’s move, we’ll use Defy Danger with Charisma:

Vahid triggers Defy Danger with Charisma: 6+5+1 Charisma = 12, Strong Hit

Hot dice today! Vahid is able to cow the Valerix and dictate terms in the subsequent conversation. Back to the action:

Vahid shoves the creature away with the staff and whirls on the Valerix, training the Azure Hand on it, and reaching out through it to grasp the Ustrina's fiery life energy. It is burning hot as he grips it in the unseen world, and the Valerix shudders in pain as the Seeker threatens to rip the spirit that animates it from its vessel. The remaining Ustrina shriek and scream, preparing to join the fray, but the Valerix holds up his hand and cries "Stop!" As one, the Ustrina freeze, eerily motionless.

Vahid pauses, and loosens his grip on the creature's heart fire ever so slightly. The Valerix's voice is subdued now, and a metal rasping can be heard. On the floor beside Vahid, the burning Ustrina writhes in pain as its robes burn away, revealing a twisted amalgam of dead, grey flesh and fire-scarred bronze clockwork beneath.

“Perhaps the Valerix misjudged the Vahid’s worthiness,” it says weakly, the grip of the Azure Hand still clutching its heart fire.

“Good. Then perhaps now we can treat as equals,” Vahid says, letting the Ustrina leader’s life force slip slowly from the grasp of the Azure Hand.

We’ll close out there — sort of a so-so stopping point in my mind, but I’m trying to stick to this whole ‘shorter episodes to avoid collapse’ thing. Next week, we’ll see what knowledge Vahid can extract from the Valerix, and check on how things are going back at Madame Parvati’s with Anwen. As always, thanks for reading, and I’ll see you next week!

1. Last episode, the Valerix gave Vahid this black stone coin as a calling card.

2. I haven’t broken out this archaic vocabulary in a while — I’m using vis in the Latin sense, to mean force or power. Usually we use it in conjunction with the elemental energy that can be manipulated by the Azure Hand.

3. The Ustrina rolled max damage, and Vahid halved it using his Defend hold