Last episode, the party linked up with a caravan on their way to Gordin’s Delve — the merchant Raouf ebn Raouf, his guard captain Cicatix with a few additional sellswords, and a group of emigres to Gordin’s Delve, seeking their fortunes in the mines or the trades. Raouf hinted darkly at a new feud with the Hillfolk, and before long, the party saw the signs with their own eyes: The protective magic of the Makers’ Road broken, and the aftermath of a brutal ambush. Upon investigation, Vahid and Padrig concluded that this must be the work of the hdour, who is using the age-old feud between the Delvers and the nomads to recruit more Stormcrows to his banner.
Though the merchant and his caravan seemed safe enough, Padrig couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss among their fellow travelers. We closed out the last episode with a new kind of reader poll: I challenged you folks — particularly the longtime readers among you — to speculate on which of the many enemies the party has made over the last year might be closing in on them at this very moment.
Not many folks ventured to guess, but two stalwarts — readers Neil and John Constable — pointed to Vahid’s negotiations in Marshedge back in the spring of last year (in- game time) as a possible source of trouble.
Quoth Mr. Constable: “I’m going to say I think the danger is to Vahid, as a result of the negotiations in marshedge, but I’m not sure that’s right and don’t have time now to go through the archives…”
To which Neal responded, calling on the power of his mystical third eye: “Master Stelios, who would be revenged on Vahid (episode 4.2).”
Right or wrong, this is some impressive recall of the deep cuts of PTFO:Stonetop. Master Stelios is the merchant who sold Vahid the Azure Hand, his most important source of power. In Vahid’s Session Zero, and further in Episodes 4.1 and 4.2, we established that Stelios was initially unaware of the Hand’s power, and once he realized his error, he attempted to first buy, and then steal it back from Vahid. Although he failed, Stelios managed to keep his foolishness a secret from his wealthy peers — that is, until Vahid blew up his spot by demonstrating the artifact’s power to Tymon Ammar, another wealthy Lygosi merchant who was visiting Marshedge at the time. We established at that time that Stelios would someday seek revenge on our young scholar.
And now it seems that day has come! John and Neil were correct — this is indeed the source of Padrig’s bad feeling. Now, we’ll play to find out the agent of Master Stelios’ revenge, how the party comes to discover this information, and how they’ll act on it.
We’ll rejoin the action right where we left off last week: The caravan has camped away from the road, and are at rest, praying to all the gods that the bloodthirsty Hillfolk raiders do not come upon them in the dark night.
Scene 4: A campsite on the Flats
In the lee of the columns they make camp, the caravan master and his guards erecting their tents leaning against the stonework, and the others scattering their bedrolls around a few smoldering campfires. Padrig and Quill make camp a stone’s throw apart, watching the silhouettes of the caravan guards move between the fires.
“Something still doesn’t feel right,” Padrig grumbles.
Quill sighs, and nods.
They hear Vahid’s voice from behind them. “I will see what I can glean. Perhaps one of our fellow travelers is hiding something.” He strides past them, receding into the darkness.
“Go with him,” Padrig nods to Quill. Wordlessly, he rises and follows after the Seeker, heading towards the lights of the campfires. Some distance away, and concealed by the darkness, Vahid closes his eyes and reaches out for the secret door within his mind, unlocked by his contemplation of the Makers’ key.
When he opens his eyes, the physical world is grey and insubstantial smoke, and before him is the strange, colorful tapestry of the thoughts and emotions of a dozen strangers. Here and there are pools of nervous eagerness, impatience and fear, shuddering and quivering like the surface of water near the footfalls of some terrible beast. He sees the aura of Raouf ebn Raouf — the man’s tight, guarded core of deceit and contempt would lead him to true wickedness, Vahid muses, if it were not held in check by chains of cowardice. He searches the landscape of thought for signs of Cicatrix, the guard captain, but he sees no sign of him. The man is missing.
Vahid turns, expecting to see Quill’s quiet, guarded aura, but it is nowhere to be found. Vahid casts his gaze about, looking vainly for Padrig’s man. He is momentarily uncertain whether to call out for Quill or to sound the alarm, and just as he is about to find his voice, it is taken from him by a sharp, burning line drawn across his throat.
He feels powerful arms pulling him backward, away from his allies, and his hands go to his neck, struggling against the noose drawn tight around it. He hears Cicatrix’s calm whisper in his ear: “Master Stelios sends his regards. Nothing personal, my friend.”
Vahid senses the emanations of the man's mind around him as the garotte draws tighter and cuts across his throat. It is a strange, cold void -- lit only flashes by of perception, unattached to any sentiment at all.
His vision is darkening as he fights for breath in vain against the assassin’s grip. He wills his mind to stillness and reaches out his burnt hand, calling the Azure Hand to his grip and feeling its cool, metal stave materialize in his palm. With the last seconds of his fading consciousness, he gestures to the spirit bound and waiting within his cloak. “Laughter-of-Thunder,” he signs, “aid your master!”
The spirit of the cloak roars to life, and a great wind arises, buffeting the Seeker and his would-be killer alike with its storm. The pair are lifted bodily into the air and flung apart, breaking the assassin’s hold on Vahid and throwing them both to the ground.
Vahid struggles to his hands and knees, fighting for breath. His throat is on fire and his voice is ragged as he calls for his allies. In response, he hears Pad’s booming voice. “Anwen! Awake and to arms! The Seeker is in danger! Quill, to me! Vahid, to me!”
In moments, they are at Vahid’s side. Anwen kneels and helps him to his feet, and Padrig quickly spots where Quill has fallen. Vahid, still trapped in a world of pure mind, cannot see his lifeless body, but he can see Pad’s dark regret and Anwen’s red, roiling rage, and he knows Quiet Quill is dead.
“An assassin, sent from one of the shadow societies of Lygos. He must not escape."
Padrig peers into the darkness. “We’ll have a devil of a time catching him in the dark.”
“Not I,” rasps Vahid. He raises the Azure Hand, and in response, the storm-spirit attends him. Vahid's cloak whips and twists in the growing wind, and the Seeker is borne aloft. From the heights, his mind's eye pierces through the darkness -- a dozen meters from the party he sees the strange, cold void of Cicatrix's mind as the assassin flees, and he urges the spirit towards him, flying through the night towards his quarry. Padrig curses under his breath and races after him, Anwen trailing on his heels.
Vahid urges the storm-spirit forward and alights directly in the path of the fleeing assassin. The wind of the spirit's passing blows the green spring grasses flat and stops Cicatrix in his tracks as he shields his eyes against blowing debris. Vahid stands before the assassin, the Azure Hand clenched in his scarred and blackened grip, his blue eyes sparking brightly in the dark night, and his third eye gleaming balefully.
Padrig and Anwen come from behind him, and Anwen’s voice calls out in the darkness, “You’re surrounded! You can’t fight all of us — not in a fair fight,” she says, her voice shaking with anger.
Cicatrix draws himself up with a grimace of pain. His traveling leathers are now covered in loose, black silk, and in his hand is a wickedly curved dagger, which he casts to the ground. “You are quite correct, of course,” he says in the Stonetongue. “I yield.”
Vahid studies Cicatrix in silence. The assassin smiles sourly. “I was sadly misinformed about your capabilities, Master ebn Sulaim. If we can come to an understanding, that is a matter I would like to settle with our mutual acquaintance,” he says suggestively.
"He killed Quill." Anwen fumes. "We can't just let him go."
“No, we cannot,” Vahid’s voice is still raspy, and there is a thin red line across his throat, which he rubs at absently. “He is lying — he will not return to Lygos, he will only lie in wait and try again to take my life. I have seen the truth of it in his heart.”
Cicatrix raises his chin defiantly. “I can do no other,” he says, his voice taking on an urbane tone, devoid of care or apology, or any affect at all. “I have taken gold and sworn before the Lady of Crows to end your life or my own, Master ebn Sulaim. Do what you must.” He stands at the ready, for whatever death blow might come.
Anwen looks to Padrig, who nods grimly. She raises her axe to strike him down.
Scene Breakdown
Let’s look at the rollercoaster of moves that produced this scene so far. First, Vahid looks to get to the bottom of Pad’s heebie-jeebies using his mind-reading third eye. If someone in the caravan wishes them ill, it should be pretty easy to suss out:
Vahid triggered Seek Insight: 2+2+1 Wisdom = 5, Miss
This is the third consecutive Miss result, so now feels like a time to really make things go wrong. Padrig sent Quill to look after Vahid, so the assassin can’t just go straight to garroting — he has to take out the guard first. For the Cicatrix’s stats, we’re using the assassin, straight out of the Stonetop world guide:
Source: Stonetop // Jeremy Strandberg
I envisioned that Cicatrix, stalking Vahid in the night, used his dagger to dispatch Quill, and I rolled damage to determine whether he was slain or merely wounded. The dice gave us 8 damage, enough to silence Quiet Quill for good.
Vahid has been using his third eye quite a bit, and is often able to avoid its biggest drawback — that it renders the physical world nearly invisible to him. This time, however, that weakness is a critical one, and it allowed Cicatrix to get an attack off before the Seeker can act. He uses his garrote this time, rolls 6 damage (leaving Vahid with 10 HP) and thanksto its grabby tag, Vahid is put in a pretty bad spot: He can’t move away or call for aid. But he can use the Azure Hand to call on the spirit in his cloak, which is a formidable combatant1. To do so, he has to struggle to maintain focus and consciousness:
Vahid triggered Defy Danger with Constitution: 5+5+1 Constitution = 11, Strong Hit.
This calls the spirit to action, and it immediately attacks:
Vahid triggered Order Followers: 4+5+1 Quality = 10, Strong Hit
The uses its lashing winds to break the assassin’s hold on its master, dealing 5 damage to both of them in the process — the cloak’s weapons all have the area tag, which makes them problematic in close-quarter situations like this one, but Vahid is willing to take the hit. Vahid has a mere 5 HP remaining, while the assassin has 7.
At this point, Vahid is able to call for aid, albiet quietly. Fortunately, Pad is on a hair trigger:
Pad is able quickly find Vahid. Cicatrix is in the wind — he’s using his slip away, try again later move here, but the PCs have a chance to stop him. At the table, I can imagine Pad’s player picking up the dice here to start tracking the assassin down, but Vahid’s third eye renders that moot: From on high, he can see the assassin’s thoughts through darkness or concealment, easily catching up to the man. Mechanically, this is represented by the Seeker’s ability to always ask the question ‘what thinking entities are present here?’ when using his third eye.
The party then catches up to, and parleys with, Cicatrix. I opted not to allow them to try to Persuade him to surrender and abandon his contract — his Instinct is ‘to finish the job,’ after all. Vahid once again uses his third eye to confirm this.
Vahid triggered Seek Insight: 3+5+1 Wisdom = 9, Weak Hit.
He asks the question “What do you intend to do?” and gets confirmation that the assassin won’t give up. Padrig gives Anwen the nod, and she steps up to execute him. If he were bound and helpless, there’d be no roll, but he isn’t, so Anwen throws the bones:
Anwen triggers Clash: 1+1+2 Strength = 4, Miss
Oof. This feels like a golden opportunity. It’s the dead of night, the party is camped out in hostile territory, and the Hillfolk threat is established. It’d be deeply inconvenient for our heroes if a raiding party showed up now. Back to the action:
Before her stroke lands, a whistle cuts through the silence of the night, heralding a grey-fletched arrow shaft that sprouts in Anwen's shoulder, and she cries out in pain. All at once, the night air is split with the sounds of violence -- the flight of more arrows, the thunder of hoofbeats, and shouts of alarm from the campsite. Cicatrix seizes the moment and vanishes into the darkness, running low and swiftly into the tall grass.
Vahid calls upon his spirit servant, and immediately, a swirling column of wind envelops the party, deflecting a shower of arrows aside, where they bury themselves in the dirt. Pad swears and scans the night for signs of their enemy. “There!” he calls out, pointing to the south. At the top of a ridge, silhouetted darkly against the starry night sky, are three figures, readying for another volley.
Anwen snaps the arrow off in her shoulder, readies her shield, and charges up the embankment towards them, zigging and zagging as the arrows fly, while Vahid's cloak bears him aloft on a cloud of swirling wind towards their attackers. Pad stands fast and swiftly nocks and looses an arrow, and it flies true -- one of the silhouettes drops, as an arrow grazes by Pad's side, splitting his tunic and leaving a bloody trail.
Arrows thud into Anwen's shield as she charges up the ridge toward the raiders. As she bears down on them, the nearer throws down his bow and raises up an adze to parry Anwen's blow, but Bearkiller cleaves through the wooden haft of the weapon and lays open a terrible wound. The nomad falls heavily to the ground, and his fellow darts backward, opening ground between himself and Anwen. He nocks an arrow as Anwen wrenches her axe free and raises her shield, but before he can loose, a great wind lifts him bodily off his feet and flings him down the embankment, where he lands with a sickening crack and lays still. In the place where he stood, Vahid descends, his cloak blowing in the growing wind as dark storm clouds gather overhead, drawn by the spirit’s power.
Anwen turns towards the camp. The din of chaos can still be heard -- folk crying out for help and for the gods in a half dozen languages. “We have to help them,” she says, turning to Padrig.
Swiftly, Pad comes to her side, whispering urgently. “Anwen, wait! We don’t know how many raiders remain, and we are wounded.” He glances aside to the Seeker, who leans heavily on the Azure Hand, and to the spreading red stain around the arrow shaft lodged in Anwen’s shoulder.
“There’s no time, Pad! You saw what they did before. They’ll execute any of those poor folk they take alive!”
He puts her hand on her shoulder. “We can’t save anyone if we rush to our deaths. Let us move quickly and quietly under cover of night, take our enemy’s measure, and strike when we have the best chance to do some good.”
Behind Anwen, another voice cries out, and is abruptly silenced.
Scene Breakdown
The Hillfolk strike, and the party responds. As a result of her Miss, Anwen is struck by the first arrow, and the rider rolls the max — 8 damage, leaving Anwen with 12. It’s a close call, but she chooses not to use I Get Knocked Down, to avoid giving up the initiative.
Vahid commands his spirit servent to protect them from first volley of flying arrows. Pad uses that time to trigger Situational Awareness and get the answer to a single Seek Insight question: What is my enemy’s true position? He spots the immediate threat, and communicates it to the party, while taking a shot himself:
Padrig triggers Let Fly: 5+1+1 Dexterity = 7, Weak Hit.
Pad deals his damage, and takes an arrow in return. He scores 7 damage against the rider’s 6 HP, and downs one. Anwen then needs to close the distance safely (we assume Vahid is protected from arrows by swirling winds):
Anwen triggers Defy Danger with Constitution: 5+4+2 Constitution = 11, Strong Hit
And then both Anwen and Vahid use their respective weapons of choice on their attackers:
Anwen triggers Clash: 5+3+2 Strength = 10, Strong Hit Vahid triggers Order Follower: 5+4+1 Quality = 10, Strong Hit
Anwen deals 8 damage (she’s rolling an extra 1d4 thanks to Payback) and Vahid deals 6 damage, so both nomads are put down, which concludes the immediate danger.
Anwen’s Choice
Command decision time: Anwen’s blood is up, and there are people in danger. On the other hand, we don’t know what we’ll be rushing into, and everyone has taken some damage.
Does our young marshal do what her gut tells her is the right thing? Or does she heed Padrig’s cautious counsel, and try to do the smart thing? We’ll pause the action here, and put the question to a reader’s poll:
This episode was on the shorter side — this week was a busy one, and when I sat down to play, it felt like every time the PCs tried to take decisive action, the dice chose violence. We’ll see if next week sees our PCs get back on the path to Gordin’s Delve, or if the reversals will continue. As ever, thank you so much for reading, and I’ll see you in your inbox next week!
"Here and there are pools of nervous eagerness, impatience and fear, shuddering and quivering like the surface of water near the footfalls of some terrible beast."
Catching up 😭
"Here and there are pools of nervous eagerness, impatience and fear, shuddering and quivering like the surface of water near the footfalls of some terrible beast."
Whoo, that's that _good_ good writing 😁
Leader or not, Anwen's core is to face down injustice and to follow her instincts. Go crack some heads, Anwen!