Session 10.4: First they must catch us

A long night. A bloody fight. A desperate flight.

Last episode, some old, bad blood between Vahid and the merchant from whom he acquired the Azure Hand boiled up — Master Stelios, a merchant prince of Lygos holds a grudge thanks to some dealings Vahid had in Marshedge, and seems to have sent a well-paid assassin to hunt for the Seeker here at the edge of the known world.

Posing as a caravan guard between Marshedge (Vahid’s last known location) and the Delve (a likely destination for curious antiquarians) and assuming the name Cicatrix, the assassin awaited sight or a sign of Vahid, and now that the party is on the move again, his patience was rewarded. Once the party had left the protection of the Makers’ Roads and had camped for the night, Cicatrix took the opportunity to strike, first killing Quiet Quill, and then drawing his garotte around the Seeker’s neck. But Seeker was not such easy prey — Vahid called his storm-spirit servant from his cloak to aid him, and his allies came to his aid. Ultimately, the assassin was saved by a stroke of luck, and just as Anwen was about to slay him, a raiding party of Hillfolk came upon them. The momentary distraction was enough for Cicatrix to escape into the night.

The first group of Hillfolk were expecting shaky caravan guards and unarmed migrants, and when they came up against Anwen, Padrig and Vahid, they were quickly dispatched. But the rest of the caravan remained in danger, and our heroes had no way to know how many riders had attacked. They had to make a fast decision: Anwen’s impulse was to save the rest of the caravan, while cautious Padrig suggested they slip away into the night and keep heading for the Delve. We put the choice up to a reader poll — let’s see what y’all chose:

Anwen’s not going to be as cautious as Padrig in her leadership, it seems. She is ready to rush in and save those folk, no matter how dangerous it might be. We’ll rejoin the fiction and continue that scene, but first we have to decide — is this the main body of the hdour’s forces? Or just a raiding party who saw a target of opportunity and struck?

I asked the Ironsworn Yes/No Oracle “Is this the main Hillfolk force?” and recieved the answer “No, but…” For the complication, we’ll envision that while this is only a small raiding party, the main force is nearby, waiting for a signal. The raiding party won’t necessarily want to call for help, since that means less loot and glory for them, but if the tide turns, they will certainly try. Back to the action with Anwen:

Scene 4, Continued: A campsite on the Flats

Anwen shakes her head emphatically. “No. The longer we wait, the less will be left to save. Follow me!” Without another word, she turns and charges into the night, towards the sounds of chaos coming from the caravan’s campsite.

Ahead of her, she sees the light from a flickering torch, illuminating a grim scene. Raouf ebn Raouf, the Lygosi merchant, is sprawled in the bed of his cart, his throat cut, his blood staining the roughspun sacks of rice heaped beneath him. Two Hillfolk raiders are engaged with busily stripping the silver rings from the merchant’s fat fingers.

Anwen falls on them like a thunderbolt, felling the first raider with a single blow: Bearkiller parts his thick hide armor like water and lays open a terrible wound. The second man is faster than she expects — he whirls and slashes at her with a jagged flint hatchet. She feels the impact and a sharp pain in her shoulder, but she bulls through and knocks the man back with the haft of her axe before striking, catching him in the gut. He folds over the axeblade and collapses limply to the ground, but not before he lets out a cry of alarm in the Steptongue.

Anwen starts by triggering Anger is a Gift¹ — the Hillfolk’s attack on innocents is more than enough to get her blood up. She also holds an additional Resolve, thanks to Speak Truth to Power — she took a moment to demand that Pad do ‘the right thing’ so whether or not he follows, she banks one extra.

Since she’s flush, she spends a Resolve to act suddenly, catching them off guard, and that lets her get a free damage roll on the unsuspecting raiders. She rolls 7 damage, enough to fell the first. Then she must face the second raider blade-to-blade:

Anwen triggered Clash: 5+1+2 Strength = 8, Weak Hit

She deals 8 damage (she’s rolling her base 1d6 damage plus 1d4 for Payback, +1 for her Makerglass battle axe, and she ignores up to Armor 2, also thanks to the incredible sharpness of Bearkiller. In return, she’s dealt 4 damage, which she reduces to 2 thanks to armor. This leaves Anwen with 10 HP. Once again, she opts not to halve the damage with I Get Knocked Down, because she didn’t take that much damage, and she doesn’t want to get slowed down with a complication.

The Seeker is still catching his breath, his throat on fire from the garrote’s sharp bite, and trying in vain to close his mind’s eye and return his sight to the tangible world. Pad leaves him behind, drawing within sight of the caravan’s camp, now in disarray. The tents are trampled down, and a half-dozen corpses litter the ground. He searches the darkness for friends and foes, trying to make sense of the chaos of fast-moving shadows, flickering campfires and torches, and dim silver starlight.

Padrig triggers Seek Insight: 4+2+2 Wisdom = 8, Weak Hit

He asks the question “What is my enemy’s true position,” which is one of the special questions he has access to thanks to his move Situational Awareness. We’ll put the answer in fiction:

He spots two more raiders moving fast towards Anwen and shouts a warning. By the stone ruins, he sees the survivors of the attack -- a crowd of emigres, sheltering in the gap between two fallen columns. One of the caravan guards is holding the gap, brandishing his spear at a pair of Hillfolk, who dart forward and back, seeking an opening or a moment of weakness. And at the edge of his vision, Pad sees one more grey-cloaked Hillman, nimbly scaling up the column, looking to take the caravan’s last defender unaware from above.

Padrig triggers Let Fly: 4+1+1 Dexterity = 6, Miss

Padrig’s shot goes wide and cracks against the stone pillar. The raider gains the top of the column and leaps down, a gleaming flint dagger in hand, tackling one of the guards and bearing him down to the ground. Their foe taken in hand, the remaining two Stormcrows turn on Padrig and charge, looking to close the distance before he can loose more arrows.

Pad triggers Let Fly: 6+3+1 Dexterity = 11, Strong Hit

He deals 3 damage, minus 1 for their armor, for a total of 2 — not enough to fell one.

Pad’s second shot grazes one of them as they close, then they are almost upon him. Meanwhile, as Anwen approaches the campsite, two more Stormcrows bear down on her, encircling her and seeking to divide her attention. This close, Anwen can make out clearly the grey feathers that adorn their boiled hide armor, and the red masks that hide their faces — the marks of the Stormcrows². One is armed with a short flint spear, which Anwen fends with her shield as he stabs at her savagely, the other has a stolen longsword of Delver iron, which he raises for an overhand strike.

Anwen triggers Clash: 5+2+2 Strength = 9, Weak Hit

She maxes out her damage for 11 total, which allows her to kill both in one move. She takes 6 damage in return, leaving her with 4 HP. Now, all damage rolls against her will be at disadvantage, thanks to her Never Gonna Keep Me Down move.

Anwen is faster than he, and before his blow can fall, her blade meets him with an underhand swing, catching him under his arm and sending him tumbling backwards, a spray of red staining the grass. The other Stormcrow rushes forward to avenge his fallen kin, and his speartip catches Anwen’s shield and slides across it before sinking into her shoulder. She cries out in pain and anger, whirls, and drives Bearkiller into his upraised shield. The layers of boiled hide provide no protection against the razor-edged Makerglass, and shield and man alike are broken.

As the Stormcrows bear down on Pad, he sees Vahid at his side. The wind surges around the Seeker as he urges the storm-spirit of his cloak to strike, lashing the raiders with wind and debris, but they raise their shields against the storm and close³. Pad throws aside his bow and rips his longsword from its sheath.

Padrig triggers Clash: 2+5+0 Strength = 7, Weak Hit

He deals 3 damage (reduced to 2 by armor), and receives 2 in exchange (reduced to 1). Meanwhile, Vahid commands the storm-spirit in his cloak to protect him from his attackers:

Vahid triggers Order Followers: 5+5+1 Quality = 11, Strong Hit

The Seeker is safe from damage this round.

Pad trades blows with the Stormcrow warrior, meeting his heavy bronze adze with a bone-shaking parry and slashing back, landing three hard blows on the enemy’s shield. Alongside him, Vahid narrowly avoids a jabbing flint-tipped spear, his cloak whipping forward to push the attack aside and lashing the stormcrow with wind to drive him back.

Now, Pad and Vahid attack together — the Seeker commands the cloak to call up a wind to distract the Stormcrows and aid Padrig’s next attack.

Padrig triggers Clash with Advantage: 5+5+1+0 Strength  = 10, Strong Hit

Pad deals 5 damage, which is enough to kill one raider, even after armor reduces it.

Vahid’s cloak conjures up a gyre of wind, momentarily blinding the Stormcrows, and Padrig takes the opening to strike. He seizes one of the the Hillmen’s flint spear in one hand, pushing it aside and driving forward to run the man through with his sword.

It dawns on the remaining Stormcrow all at once how badly the tide has turned against him, and he hastily falls back. Pad advances with his blade at the ready, but instead of meeting him, the nomad’s hand goes to the hunting horn at his belt. He raises it to his lips and prepares to sound. Pad sees Anwen closing in behind them, charging with Bearkiller raised to strike its shining white glass stained all over with blood, black in the moonlight. “Anwen, take him before he calls for aid!” Pad shouts.

Anwen triggers Clash with advantage⁴: 5+6+2+2 Strength = 13, Strong Hit

She deals 10 damage, and absolutely gibs this guy.

Anwen descends on him like a hunting hawk, laying him down to the bloodstained grass before he sounds a single note. Standing over their fallen attackers, the party takes stock — the night has grown quieter, though shadow still move up at the caravan’s campsite, and quiet, urgent voices can be heard.

The trio approaches the ruined campsite, they see the last Stormcrow -- he is watching them come, having seen them dispatch his fellows. His back is against the stone pillar, and holds fast the surviving caravan guard, with a jagged flint knife at his throat.

Padrig hangs back, fading into the shadows, as Anwen and the Seeker come forward. The Stormcrow fixes Vahid with a stare that is awe mixed with hate. He is young — perhaps only 20 winters. The white warpaint that once adorned his face is smeared with sweat and mud. “You are him -- the magi,” the young warrior says. “The usurper of our destiny. Soon the whole of the storm-folk will be arrayed against you.”

Vahid gestures to the fallen. “Is your destiny? Soaked in the blood of innocents?”

“Blood alone turns the wheels of fate.” he spits back.

“Is this what your hdour has told you? He spits upon the most sacred laws of your people,” Vahid replies.

“All the laws of man are evil. Only the law of Tor is just,” the young rider replies, half to himself.

Vahid sighs heavily, his voice still strained and raspy. “He is lost. Our enemy has infected his mind with these poisonous certainties.”

“Release that man,” Anwen growls.

The Stormcrow’s eyes now fix on her, surprised, as though he had not noticed her before. “Swear a truce, then, and I will depart this place and leave his throat uncut,” he says, desperation edging into his voice.

Vahid triggers Seek Insight: 5+4+1 Wisdom = 10, Strong Hit.

His third eye is closed now, so he can’t read the man’s mind directly, so he instead asks “What do you really want or need?” a special Seek Insight question he has access to thanks to his Let’s Make a Deal move, and he shares the answer with Anwen:

“Any truce with this man will be short-lived. He intends to lead his fellows to us at his first opportunity,” Vahid says aside to Anwen.

“You must surrender yourself to us,” Anwen counters. “I swear we will spare your life.”

“I will never be taken by stren,” the Stormcrow hisses back.

Padrig triggers Let Fly: 4+5+1 Dexterity = 10, Strong Hit

He deals 4 damage — not enough to down the Stormcrow.

Pad, waiting with bowstring drawn, has heard enough. His shot narrowly misses the caravan guard and takes the Stormcrow in the shoulder. The guard seizes the moment and throws himself to the ground, scrambling away toward safety. The raider, clutching his arrow wound with panic in his eyes, sprints towards the body one of his fallen comrades, where a hunting horn, rimmed with engraved bronze, awaits him.

“Anwen! Don’t let him call for help!” Pad shouts, reaching for another arrow.

Anwen looks desperately to the surviving emigres, huddled between the pillar. “Take him!” she cries, before charging headlong after the fleeing Stormcrow.

Anwen triggers two moves here — first she spends a Resolve to ‘inspire others to follow your lead’ which gets the emigres moving on her behalf. She then attacks the remaining Stormcrow, and I decided that she can receive Aid from the people she galvanized to action, so she strikes with advantage:

Anwen triggers Clash with advantage: 5+4+1+2 Strength = 11, Strong Hit

She deals 7 damage and cuts him down.

The emigres surge forward, cutting the Stormcrow off from his quarry, and he whirls on Anwen, who bears down on him with her axe raised high. In desperation, he rushes at her with his blade, but he is no match for the champion of Stonetop, and she overcomes him easily.

Anwen is breathing deeply, wounded and spatterd from top to toe with the blood of her enemies. The emigres are staring at her with a mixture of awe and horror. She turns to Pad, avoiding meeting their gazes. “We have to get these folk to safety.”

Pad nods, and turns to the assembled folk, speaking in a low, firm voice. “We have bought ourselves some time, but these men have kith and kin not far from here -- else that one would not have given his life trying to signal them,” The emigres quietly mutter among themselves as those who speak the Stonetongue translate for those who cannot. “Gather what you can quickly carry -- no more -- and we will make fast for the safety of the roads. We will have to march through the night, at speed. Who is afraid they will fall behind?”

A pair of folk -- one, an old Marshedger man, wears the trade tools of a tanner and walks with a limp, the other is a woman with a young girl clinging to her ragged linen skirts, step forward, as the others quickly take up their belongings.

Pad nods to the woman. “Stay close to Anwen. She’ll see you through.” He looks to the surviving caravan guard. “You -- what is your name?”

“Jens, captain,” the man says. He picks up his fallen spear, and his posture straightens unconsciously as Pad speaks to him.

“You are to help our elder tanner here keep up. Put him on our champion’s horse and lead him. Keep Anwen in the beast’s sight, else it’ll give you no end of trouble.”

Padrig gathers up the emigres with his gaze. “If they catch us, they will kill us. But first, they must catch us. All the hardship you have so far endured has prepared you for this moment. Follow me, and do not falter.”

We’ll adjudicate their flight using the move Struggle as One. With this move, each character rolls Defy Danger with a stat appropriate to the situation. Weak Hits get the individual through the danger, and Strong Hits can cancel out a single miss. Padrig, Vahid and Anwen will each roll separately, with a single roll for the emigres and the caravan guard.

Padrig is using Wisdom, since he’s leading the way, trying to find a path that will be easy for them to navigate and challenging to their pursuers, and he’ll have advantage thanks to his Read the Land move. Vahid and Anwen are rolling Constitution to power through the exhaustion and pain. And the caravan rolls based on its quality, which I think we can peg at -1 — they’re not trained for nighttime forced marches, after all. They will, however, roll with advantage, thanks to Padrig’s pep-talk. On top of that, they’re rolling for disadvantage because of general exhaustion, injury and terror.

Padrig triggers Defy Danger with Wisdom with Advantage: 4+5+1+2 Wisdom = 11, Strong Hit
|Anwen rolls Constitution 5+4+2 Constitution = 11, Strong Hit
Vahid rolls Constitution  5+1+1 Constitution = 7, Weak Hit
The Emigres + Caravan Guard roll Quality w/ disadvantage (-1) = 6+3+1-1 Quality = 3, Miss

Editors note: Astute reader Robin notes below that while I was adjudicating this, I flubbed granting advantage to the emigres. Reviewing my notes, it looks like I was deciding between giving them a neutral role (Pad’s Advantage canceling out their Disadvantage) or just giving them Advantage, and then I ended up doing neither and giving them Disadvantage — I think I remember deciding that Pad’s advantage could only be applied to one roll (in this case, his own). Ultimately, I like how the scene ended up, and thanks to Anwen and Pad’s strong hits, the Emigres were protected in any case.

Anwen’s Strong Hit can cancel out the caravan’s Miss — back to the action:

Scene 5: Fleeing to the Makers’ Roads

On and on they flee through the night. Padrig leads them through thorned thickets and down sodden, muddy gulches to slow and confuses their pursuers, and Anwen brings up the rear, helping those that fall behind. The night around them is filled with the sound of hoofbeats and the snarls and sounding calls of pack drakes seeking their prey.

Dawn is breaking as they catch sight of the black line of the Makers’ Road, unscarred by the hdour’s magic. The party breaks into a headlong sprint towards the safety of the road’s arcane protections. Half a mile from the road, Pad takes the risk of looking back, and behind him, in the pre-dawn darkness, he sees a mass of riders cresting a distant hilltop -- at least three dozen, all ahorse, with packs of drakes darting through the grass ahead of the thundering hooves. Hunting horns sound, and Padrig urges the caravan on.

The Hillfolk war party bears down on them as they flee. The shrill hunting calls of the drakes grow louder, and arrows begin to fall among them. A bare hundred feet from the road, the young mother slows, falling to the ground with her daughter, but Anwen is there, picking her up, taking up the young girl, and urging the mother onward.

The three of them are the last to reach the cool, black paving stones of the Makers’ Road. The rest of the party is there, watching with trepidation as the Hillfolk approach. The magic of the roads is palpable -- the strange, numbing buzz is sometimes oppressive, but today it feels like a blessing from the gods.

The Stormcrows approach. Source: Midjourney

The Hillfolk force slows its approach, halting a few dozen yards from them. Their ranks divide, and their leader comes forward -- a familiar young rider armored in a shining bronze breastplate. Around his chest is a thick silver chain etched with maker runes. His face is young, handsome, and twisted by anger, and his olive skin is covered with a skull-mask of white warpaint.

Padrig, though exhausted, stands and comes to the edge of the road. “I know you,” he says, peering searchingly at the nomads’ leader. “You are Maël, son of meistr Abra of the White Arrows⁵.”

“And you are Juba’s stren. My father is dead, and meistr no longer. I lead the White Arrows towards glory.”

Anwen, full of righteous anger, comes to Padrig’s side and calls to Maël in the Stonetongue. “Is the butchery we saw on the road your doing, you coward? You jackal?! Is this the glory your people claim? The murder of innocent folk?”

“No Delver is innocent,” he replies, with a bloodthirsty grin. “I would kill a hundred of them with my own hands, and only regret that I could not kill a hundred more.”

“Face me, then, if you are such a lion-hearted killer,” Anwen bellows, beating her fist against her shield, coming to the very edge of the road.

Maël’s face shines with eager glee. He dismounts, sliding from the saddle with serpentine grace, twirling his spear lightly as he approaches the road. “Come then, champion. Let one of us be a great gift for Crowmother this day.”

Before she can surge forward, Padrig is at Anwen’s side, a calming hand on his shoulder. “Peace, Anwen. We won. There is no need to risk more, and these folk still need us.”

Reluctantly, Anwen allows herself to be pulled away from the roadside. Maël’s smile never falters. “Another day, Anwen of Stonetop. Seek me out on the battlefield, for I surely will be seeking you.”

The war party falls in line behind Mael as he mounts and rides south, deeper into the trackless grasslands. For a time, the party rests in silence, exhausted down to their very bones by their flight.

Padrig and Jens take stock of what has been salvaged -- supplies seem scarce until a pair of stout young Manmarchers produce three sacks of rice, taken from Raouf’s stores and carried through the night. A fire is built, and they make a spare meal of the adulterated rice -- the sawdust scratches their throats on the way down, but no one can bring themselves to curse the dead merchant’s name.

When the sun is high in the sky, Padrig calls them to move again, and they once again trudge down the Black Road towards the Delve.

Scene 6: A waystation, a day’s journey from Gordin’s Delve

Another two days of travel brings them to a rougher country, where the hills rise wild, and the Huffel Peaks loom over the horizon, towering and foreboding, still crowned by spring snow. As they climb higher, back and forth through switchback after switchback, a chill grows in the air, and when they finally reach the great ring of a waystation, they eagerly take up hatchets and set to building a fire.

The black road is lined on both sides by row upon row of cut-down tree stumps. Anwen, leading her horse with the young mother and child astride it, looks in awe at the desolation. “So many trees felled!” she exclaims. “I remember Cerys showing me the beams of the Pavilion of the Gods⁶ when I was a girl, and telling me of the brave folk who trekked to the foothills with our friends among the nomads so that we could build a great home for the gods without breaking faith with the Forest Folk. If the Delvers have felled all these trees, surely they must have built something amazing!”

Pad smiles and shakes his head. “They’ve built some things, to be sure. But nearly all of these were cut down to feed the great forges in the Foundry. Every year their logging crews must range farther and farther from town, into more and more dangerous country. But it doesn’t stop them.”

Vahid, recovering from the wounds the assassin dealt him, joins them at the roadside, looking pensively at the barren hillside. “We’re near enough to our destination now that we should speak of our plans.”

“Aye,” Padrig replies. “I’ve been thinking on the best way to find our Elder Kirs in the Delve. If things are strained between the nomads and the Delvers, if this Kirs has any sense, he’ll be laying low. Stonetop doesn’t have many friends in the Delve, but there is a trader named Kanter⁷ who makes the journey a few times a year to buy whisky and sell iron tools. He might be a worthwhile place to start.”

“What about Rheisart⁸? He’s been in the Delve for a year now, learning the smith’s trade. He’s a friend, good and true. We can trust him,” Anwen says.

“Aye, I’m sure we can. If he’s learning a trade, he’ll no doubt have taken up with a Keep — Keeps run the trades, and offer folk protection in exchange for a cut of whatever they earn. They’re one step below the Bosses in the Delve, and we’d be wise to befriend one before we make any moves.” As Padrig speaks, Vahid’s face grows impassive. Pad, sensing the Seeker’s restlessness, raises an eyebrow. “Did you have a different idea, friend?”

“Things have changed since we left Stonetop,” Vahid says, gesturing to the surviving emigres. “When we arrive in the Delve, the story of the Hillfolk attack will spread. Our names and deeds will become known.”

Padrig ponders this for a moment. “Perhaps this is so. But the Delve is full of rumors, and a few wagging tongues on new arrivals might instead be dismissed out of hand. And a fearsome reputation won’t lead us to Elder Kirs, nor put this crown of yours in our hands.”

Vahid shakes his head impatiently. “It is not my crown, but never mind that. With the reputation that will no doubt proceed us — Anwen slew a half-dozen Stormcrows single-handedly — we could seek an audience with one of the Bosses. Or all of them. Surely they would not wish a powerful arcanum to fall into the hands of a bitter enemy. And surely their aid would speed our path. Time is no friend of ours: Cirl will be searching for the crown, as we are, and he now seems to have the loyalty of many warriors, including this champion, Maël.”

Padrig sucks in his breath. “The Bosses are not to be trusted, Vahid. They did not climb to the top of the heap in this gods-forsaken place by being loyal allies. Any one of them is just as like to take the crown from us and find how best they can use it to their advantage. It is best we avoid their notice altogether. I can lead us through the back streets and find Elder Kirs. Once we’ve secured his aid, we should leave the Delve as quietly as we can, and not look back.”

And with that, we’ll pause for the week, and resolve the party’s dilemma with this week’s reader poll. Will they pursue Vahid’s plan, and seek an audience with one of the high and mighty Bosses? Or will they do as Padrig suggests, keep a low profile, stick to the back streets, and find Elder Kirs with their wits alone?

Mash the vote button below to make your choice, and as always, thanks so much for reading this week!

1. You can refresh your memory on this move all the way back in Anwen’s Session Zero.

2. The Stormcrows are the name given to the Hillfolk raiders who directly serve Cirl, the hdour. We last tangled with them back in Session 8, when they attacked the Sun-Spear camp to attempt to draw meistr Juba into a feud with the storm-folk.

3. Here, Vahid successfully commanded his storm-spirit to attack the raiders, but it rolled only 1 damage, which wasn’t enough to get past their armor, so its only effect was to hand Padrig the initiative to trigger Clash.

4. Advantage was granted by Pad’s Stentorian move, since he shouted a command to her before she struck. For a refresher on Stentorian, you can check out Session 3.4, when Pad first acquired the move!

5. We first met this NPC very briefly in Session 8.4. There, it was hinted at, though not stated, that the White Arrow Band of Hillfolk had been infiltrated or fully taken over by the hdour.

6. We envisioned this detail of the Pavilion of the Gods back in Session 5.1.

7. Kanter is one of the NPCs we established in our Gordin’s Delve prep episode.

8. Rheisart is an old friend of Anwen’s, who we first met in Session 5.6 at Anwen’s initiation ceremony.