Session 13.6: Lambs to the Slaughter (Part 1)
Anwen and Vahid close in. Padrig rallies his troops.
Last episode, Anwen, Vahid, and their crew — Baraz the bouncer, Boss Mutra and her two bravos, Cerdic and Ollem — continued their delve through Odo’s Lair, making their way through Ustrina burial catacombs and a gruesome charnel pit, finally stealing into the cult’s living quarters. There, they disposed of a few cultists and effected some disguises, allowing them to slip among Odo’s people when their sunrise service begins.
Meanwhile, Padrig faced a dilemma — down in the prisoner’s pens are a handful of recruits who might provide some much-needed help in the coming fight against Odo and his many knives. But Padrig knows they’re not trained fighters, and will have little chance against Odo’s cursed family. Will he face Odo alone, and not risk these innocent lives? Or will he ask them to fight for their freedom, giving them a better chance at seeing the sun again.
His decision was the topic of last week’s reader poll. We’re going to start the action with Anwen, so I’ll hold off on posting the results. We’ll rejoin the fiction with Stonetop’s champion, the Seeker, and their allies in Odo’s Larder. They’re going to trigger the Recover move -- this is their first opportunity, since they brought no supplies of their own. The move heals 4+Prosperity HP. Since they're avoiding anything that might be contaminated with long pig, we'll mark that as 4-1=3 HP. Anwen has 12 HP now -- we'll hope that's enough to face down Odo.
Scene 11: The Larder
A tense hour passes in the Larder. Ollem grumbles to Cerdic, while Cerdic ignores him, until Mutra chides them both, and Ollem contents himself with silent glowering at Anwen and Vahid. As time stretches on, they carefully pick through the storehouse, eating what they dare while avoiding the foul stew bubbling on the hearth.
When it seems like they can wait no longer, a low, deep tolling sounds in the depths, echoing through the complex. From the mess hall beyond, they hear shuffling and a low murmur of conversation, punctuated by sharp barks of strange, inhuman laughter.
“Stay close to me,” Vahid whispers as they gather to move. “For a while yet, the spirits of the wind and air in this place will keep us from prying eyes.”
“Will the spirits help us against Odo’s knives?” Ollem grumbles.
“Not them,” Vahid says with an enigmatic smile. A breeze seems to stir the folds of his stolen white robe, and the enchanted cloak beneath it.
A brief aside regarding Vahid's flying cloak and the spirit bound within -- we first met this creature back in Session 7.6, when Vahid unlocked its power. He also used it to drive off a few Stormcrow raiders on the road to Gordin's Delve, but thus far the thing's full power has yet to be unleashed.
If I were Vahid's player at the gaming table, I'd certainly take some time to discuss possible uses for the spirit in the coming fight with my GM, so that when the action kicked off, the conversation could proceed as smoothly as possible. To refresh your memory on the spirit's moves and other stats, click here.
“Enough talk,” Anwen says. “Keep your heads down and follow me.”
They emerge from the Larder and into the great hall. A pair of young servants now scurry between the rows of tables, scouring and cleaning in preparation for a feast. The two -- a sandy-headed boy and a tan girl with black, wiry hair, assiduously avoid them and cast their haunted eyes down as the group passes. A few other white-robed cultists are moving through the feast hall, exiting through the far archway, a grand, double-wide path leading towards the fighting pit. They pay no mind as Anwen follows quietly behind them.
The fighting pits are the beating heart of Odo’s Lair, beyond the feasting hall, and here is where Odo’s family has gathered. They were once an ancient theater, where the foremost artificers of the Forge Lords performed their great works before audiences of rapt acolytes, Vahid notes with satisfaction as the chamber opens up before them. Rows of tall, stepped seats descend towards a circular stage. Two staircases descend, side by side, one grand and sized for the stature of the Makers, the other humble, for their smaller servants.
Odo’s followers have made themselves at home here -- the once-hallowed stage has been scattered with wood shavings, sand, and gravel, while a scrap-iron palisade encloses the platform below. The frescos and reliefs carved long ago by the Forge Lords have been chiseled and gouged away, and in their place, tattered linen banners hang with crude symbols: undulating lines ending in spiral whorls, painted in red like a wind of blood.
The theater is filled with Odo’s family and those they have pressed into service in their sanctum. The Thriceborn’s own all wear the robes of white, and they press into the first few rows of seats, crowding around the arena while the others keep to the edges, fearful of what will happen here.
Anwen’s party slowly makes its way towards the arena floor, moving to join the rest of Odo’s circle. Their leader is conspicuously absent, though his place is clear -- above the arena floor is a seat of honor, a box made for a chieftain among the Makers. The Thriceborn’s throne is a too-tall bronze chaise, hung with garlands of moldering saffron flowers and rattling fingerbones.
Anwen wants to get close to Odo's throne, and that requires a roll. Vahid will lead the way, relying on his magical protections (represented by his Safety First and Proof Against Detection moves) We established last episode that those protections are starting to fray -- even a weak hit here could expose them to Odo's supernatural scrying, but for now Vahid rolls with advantage, trying to blend them into the crowd.
Vahid triggers Defy Danger: 5+6+1+1 Charisma = 12, Strong Hit
Tor loves lost causes! Vahid scores a strong hit and they make their way to Odo's left hand.
Vahid takes the lead, passing among Odo’s followers and hostages -- the lowly avert their eyes, and the proud take no notice as the Seeker’s tamed air spirits guide their fleeting attention to other things.
They come as close as they dare -- a hulking bravo in dirty white linen stands in their path to Odo’s platform, with the bored watchfulness of a sentry. A heavy chain rests at his feet, running up through a few crude iron rings to a crude iron grating in the ceiling, twenty feet above the arena floor. In the chamber above, they can hear the claws of the Most-Blessed, scratching at the stone and snarling eagerly for bloodshed.
There, with the rest of the family, they await the Thriceborn’s arrival.
We’ll leave Anwen and Vahid and return the spotlight to Padrig, and his decision. It might come as no surprise that the vote fell unanimously.
Kudos to all the commenters, providing the rationale behind the choice. Here’s a representative comment, h/t Jonathan:
There are times everyone must fight to survive, likely or no! Better than starving forgotten in the pit if Pad falls alone.
Pad’s not aiming to recruit cannon fodder to save his skin — this is about standing up to a villain. Back to the action:
Scene 12: The Prisoner’s Pens
“This is different. I’d be leading them into the belly of the beast,” Padrig says.
“So instead we go alone?” Jens voice shakes with desperation.
“Not much time,” Dawa urges. “Soon, Odo will be waiting for us. Who are you bringing?”
Padrig sighs, sets his jaw, and strides back to Axel. A few others have gathered around him -- those still strong enough to stand, and perhaps fight. The youth’s eyes dart uncertainly between Padrig and Dawa, his tormenter.
“We don’t have much time, lad,” Padrig begins. “Dawa’s here to help us escape.” Axel’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“You’re young. You think the world is simple,” Pad continues. “Oftener than not, when someone like her has a knife at your throat, there’s someone worse with a knife to theirs. It doesn’t matter if you don’t trust her -- there’s no other choice. Are you and yours ready?”
Axel swallows a lump in his throat. “None of them have held a weapon before. But they’ve worked a field, or swung picks and hatchets.”
Padrig takes in the ragged folk, a few more than a dozen of them. For a moment, he sees flashes of faces he recognizes -- Sonam’s scarred cheeks and laughing eyes, Dagmer’s ugly grin1. Lambs to the slaughter.
“There’s not much to say. Odo and all his dogs are waiting up there. My friends are there, too, ready to fight them, and maybe die -- die for me, and for you, too, though they don’t know you from a stranger. I’m going up there to join them. Follow me.”
He turns and, without a backward look, joins Dawa on the lift.
Much like the last handful of our social challenges, this moment could trigger a few different moves. At the gaming table, if a player goes out on a limb and makes at least an attempt at an inspiring pre-battle speech, I give them the benefit of the doubt. Here, Padrig isn't rolling to see whether they'll come with him -- we're just trying to determine what state they'll be in. We'll keep it simple and use Defy Danger with Charisma.
Padrig triggers Defy Danger: 5+5+1 Charisma = 11, Strong Hit
They're with him, and at least for the moment, they believe all is not lost. We'll create them as a new Crew under Padrig, using the same rules we used to create the Companions way back at character creation. They have 6 HP each, and roll 1d6 for damage. Their instinct is "To scatter and flee" (this is not one of the options on the Crew sheet, but it seems appropriate) and their cost is Risks taken by you, to help them. Thanks to Pad's strong hit, we'll mark one Loyalty immediately, which will help Padrig hold them together when trouble hits. As a refresher, here are the relevant rules for Followers:
These are not trained warriors, like the Companions. For their tags, we'll give them desparate and untrained. When ordering them, Padrig will very likely be rolling +0 with disadvantage. Good luck, you old bandit.
First, Jens joins him, but then he feels others around him -- Axel’s people, crowding onto the wooden lift. Dawa rides in the center, and she speaks quietly to them as the lift rises out of the pens. “There will be weapons in the arena. You will be expected to take them up and fight until Odo and the Most-Blessed are satisfied with the bloodshed. If you move against him or refuse to fight, you will have only a few moments before he unleashes them on you. Make good use of them.”
The lift continues its rise up, with the other denizens of the pens watching enviously from the edges of the pit.
As they come up from the darkness, Dawa draws her blade and holds them at knifepoint, mock-forcing them to the edges. Above them, Padrig hears the Gasper’s wheezing laughter. He watches them rise from the edge of the highest tier as he turns the lift’s rickety crank.
“Lots of fresh meat today, eh Dawa?”
“Odo wants this one to bathe in blood,” she says flatly, nodding to Padrig. “His own, or theirs.”
The lift reaches the top, and the Gasper locks it in place. He is alone -- his other guards have gone to the service, leaving him here to man the post alone. Dawa shoulders through the prisoners towards him. “Don’t forget who brought him to you, Dawa,” he rasps. “It was Ghespar! Tell the Thriceborn!”
“You can tell him yourself, past the Last Door,” she whispers, as her blade lashes out, driving into his guts: Once, twice, thrice. True to his name, he gasps out his last bloody breaths as she casts him into the pit. A roar goes up among the prisoners below, a cacophony in many tongues, crying out for release, or for the guards.
When she turns back to Padrig, she is struggling to control her face, her head jerking back and forth as she hears the whispers of the Howling Curse in her ear. Pad takes her by the shoulders. “Hold fast!” he whispers fiercely. “Can that din be heard from here?”
She closes her eyes tightly, striving to shut out Y’aaw’kara’s voice. “Yes, but it does not matter. Whenever the culling is done, they raise a cry. No one will come looking for him.” Nearly possessed of herself again, she meets Pad’s eye. “Let’s go. Odo will show himself soon.”
She leads them up the shadowed stairway, up and up, back towards the Forge Lords’ meeting hall.
Padrig starts when he sees a few dark shapes awaiting them in the stairwell -- one wearing the cult’s white robes with and armed with a spear, two dressed in roughspun drab. “They are friends,” Dawa whispers. “If we win, they’re coming with us.”
The smallest of them -- a girl of maybe 14 winters -- hands Padrig a long bundle wrapped in dirty cloth: His bow, horn still shining at its curves, and two lonely arrows. He carefully wraps it, and hands to to Axel. “Here, lad. Odo’s eyes will be on me. Hide this at your side as best you can.” The Manmarcher nods, and holds it stiffly at his side.
“The rest of you,” he says, gathering up his ragged band by eye. “Gather weapons as quickly as you can, and stand together. Together, you’ll have a fighting chance. Back to back, shoulder to shoulder. Understand?”
Silence. “Understand?” he says again, sharply, and wins a few nods and grunts.
He turns to Dawa. “Lead on,” he says. Slayer-of-Beasts, Thunderhead, Rainmaker — I have need of all your masks, Tor. If ever you have heard my prayers, watch over me now. Or may the Things Below take you!
We’ll close out there. This week was a busy one in the salt mines — at work, I had a team offsite which had me socializing at all hours of the night. Fun, but exhausting. I prioritized getting a little bit written rather than postponing til I could get a full-length episode and a good decision point, but I hope it was a meaty chunk!
In other news, I am slowly exploring what other games we might play next, after this current arc is concluded. Below are two recent acquisitions!
I’m curious how folks feel about Wanderhome — it could be a fun short-run series, but it’s very different from most RPGs, a calmer vibe with no combat, by design. hold forth in the comments if you’d like to hear a story pitch about either of these!
These are the ghosts from Pad’s past who we first met way back in Session 3.2.
I know I've been absent for much of this year but I'm ploughing through the past sessions and almost caught up. Sterling stuff!
As for games, personally I've been trying and failing to get Wanderhome to various gaming tables for ages so that would be a nice change of pace, but perhaps one to different from what most readers have come to expect? Your recent weird West pitch sounds excellent!
I see that Padrig has more of a tongue for prayer than certain other characters I could mention.
Wanderhome would interest me. I can't necessarily say the same for everyone that I'd game with.