Session 15.2: Outsiders (Part 1)

Vahid wrestles with pride. Cerys peers into the secret heart. Mado is a catspaw.

Recap

Last episode, the party returned home after a long, hard road through Gordin’s Delve. The village was abuzz with their return, and the party was quickly drawn into an assembly where they were expected to share news of their expedition. Anwen, speaking as the village’s Marshal, recounted their defeat at the Delve, but rallied the villagers to prepare for the greater threat ahead—Cirl-of-the-Storms would surely turn his attention to Stonetop next. Her call to arms proved successful, with villagers stepping forward to build defenses, house refugees, and raise a smithy for the newly-trained smith Rheisart.

Our heroes’ homecoming was not the only one of late. At the council meeting, Cerys revealed that her middle son Mado — the last of her sons left alive — had returned from his fostering in the Manmarches. The young warrior pledged his sword to Stonetop's defense, but his secret arrival throws his mother's intentions into question. As the assembly concluded, Cerys requested a private audience with Anwen and Vahid at the house of healing, promising wisdom about defending against the sorcerer's power—a meeting Anwen felt compelled to accept.

We’ll jump back into the fiction right where we left off, with Anwen and Vahid summoned to Cerys’ healing hut, along with newcomer Mado:

Scene 3: The House of Healing

The House of Healing lies against the hillside like a sleeping fawn, its moss-covered stone walls green with new spring growth. Smoke rises from the chimney hole, carrying the sharp scent of burning juniper and something else—something medicinal and strange that makes Anwen's nose wrinkle.

The path leading to Cerys' door is worn smooth by decades of footsteps: the desperate, the dying, and those in need of the Goddess’s tender mercies or stern judgment. Growing over the hut, its roots twining with the stone, is an ancient hazel tree. Small offerings hang from its branches, shaking in the warm breeze — locks of hair, bundles of bones, and crude figures of sticks and twine, each one an effigy of loved ones in need of Danu’s blessings.

As they draw closer, Anwen feels the familiar tightness in her chest that always comes when approaching Cerys’ abode. She has woken there with her wounds tended more than once — after her struggle against the Thunder Drake, and her duel with Owain. Vahid walks stiffly beside her, leaning heavily on the Azure Hand.

“We must step carefully with Cerys,” Vahid says softly. “Her craft would be of great help when we go to the Crossroads to beckon Elder Kirs from beyond the Last Door. I fear she will not easily lend it to our cause.”

Anwen frowns. “Our cause is her cause. Stonetop’s cause. I hope she can see that.”

“This is so. But until now, it has been her family — her husband, first, then her eldest son — who shepherded Stonetop’s fate. Now it is you, me, and Padrig. Outsiders.”

“We’re not outsiders!”

Vahid pauses, choosing his words carefully. “You are not, perhaps. This is the only home you have ever known. As for Padrig, I believe he earnestly wishes to find a place here, but he has trodden a long, hard path and become a stranger to the life of this village.”

“And you?”

“I have… seen things that make it difficult to think of this place as my home. Or any place, truly.”

Anwen’s face falls. “I suppose I should’ve realized that. I still thought that there was a chance, after all this was over, you’d want to return to the good life. No more sorcerers, no more of the unseen world, no more fighting.”

“A simple life, and a good one, Anwen. But not one I have ever longed for.”

“Of course. Thank you, Vahid. You speak plainly, as a comrade should.”

The Seeker nods warmly to his friend, but an insistent, contemptuous voice rings in his head. Fool girl. Why would the storm hide from a lowly such as you? Vahid’s face darkens as he realizes the voice was his own.

“Vahid? What is it?” Anwen says, reaching out to him.

He gives her a strained smile. “Nothing, just a passing worry. Come, let us not keep our elder waiting.”

They walk the rest of the way in silence. As they approach, Mado comes out and bows his head to them, pulling aside the doehide and beckoning them in. Anwen studies his face. Beneath the Manmarcher beard, she can see the look of Owain, though where his brother’s face was hard, disposed to cruel sneers and angry glares, Mado’s is softer, more handsome, and given to an easy smile.

“Come, kith,” he says, that easy smile a bit strained. “You are awaited.” Anwen enters first, Vahid behind her, and then Mado, who waits by the door.

The interior is dim despite the afternoon sun, lit only by the hearth-fire and narrow shafts of light through the smoke-hole. Cerys sits cross-legged on a woven mat beside the fire, her back straight as a spear despite her years. As they watch, she raises her hands, murmuring supplications to Danu.

Cerys awaits. // Source: Midjourney

The priestess's eyes are closed, but Anwen feels watched nonetheless. Bundles of herbs hang from the rafters, and the walls are lined with clay vessels sealed with wax, unmarked, their contents known only to the lady of the house. The air is thick with juniper smoke and something else, a prickling, spicy scent that makes Anwen’s head feel light.

"Sit," Cerys finally commands, her eyes still closed. Two mats have been laid before her—not three. Mado stands behind them at the door. From the creak of leather, Anwen can tell he has his hand on his swordbelt.

As they lower themselves to the mats, Cerys finally opens her eyes, and offers a gnarled hand to Anwen, palm up. Anwen hesitates, then takes it gently. Cerys bows low, touching her forehead to Anwen’s outstretched hand.

“My thanks, Anwen. Marshal and champion. For the blood you shed in battle for your home. You honor us all with your courage.”

She lingers there, bowed in supplication. Anwen fights off the urge to squirm in her seat — this, from Cerys, is somehow more unsettling than all her baleful gazes and sharp words.

Cerys rises to meet her eyes again, and Anwen withdraws her hand quickly. “Vahid and Padrig fought with me. We could not have held as long as we did without them.”

Cerys turns her steady gaze towards the Seeker. “Yes. You have all faced a great trial. Perhaps you, most of all, Vahid. You matched wills with our great enemy, and lived to see the sunrise. What did you learn of this Cirl-of-the-Storms that we might use to our advantage?”

Vahid pauses, choosing his words with great care. “He is powerful. More powerful than even I feared. I thought, perhaps, mastering the Azure Hand would be enough to overcome him, but I fear I will need to draw from a deeper well of strength.”

“You fear it? Why? Is that not what you came to our village to find?”

Vahid clears his throat. “I came here to learn about the Makers and their great works.”

“And you have learned much. And that knowledge has made you powerful, has it not?”

“It has.”

“But you fear that power. You can already feel it changing you. You thought to wield it, but you find yourself being wielded in turn, do you not?”

Vahid looks into the priestess’s eyes. They are clouded with age, but they study him as sharply as any learned master of the Lycaeum ever did. A smile creeps over her wizened face. “You think you are the only one who can peer into the secret heart, Vahid? I have served Danu, blood and bone, for sixty winters. She shows me many truths that men like you would keep hidden. Secret shames, and worse… secret pride. I know you exult in the power you wield. Deny it, if it is not so!”

How dare this earth-bound creature natter and snipe at a lord of the sky? We must remind it of its place with wrathful thunder. Vahid’s head throbs, and his heart thuds with rage.

The room feels charged, like lightning is about to strike. A wind from without shakes the drapes, making the noonday sun dance across Cerys’ face, but her gaze does not flinch from Vahid’s face. He sets his jaw and says nothing, gripping the Azure Hand tightly in his lap as the anger sits in the pit of his stomach.

Anwen feels the blood rushing to her ears as she watches Cerys lean in towards Vahid with a cruel gleam in her eye. “Peace, Cerys! Enough,” she says sharply. “Vahid saved all our lives, more times than I can count. He slew that monster, Odo Thriceborn. He fights for the good. Isn’t that worth something to you?”

Cerys’ glare turns on Anwen, now. “Do you know why the hdour’s magic is forbidden among the Hillfolk? Why spirits must never live in the flesh of men?”

Anwen shakes her head mutely, and Cerys continues. “When the soul of a mortal and the pneuma of a spirit share one body, they are not two minds, they are as one. And as when blood is spilt into water, once they are joined, they are not so easily put asunder.”

“Speak plainly, Cerys,” Anwen says, her voice rising. “Or we’ll be gone, and face the sorcerer without your counsel.” She can hear Mado shift behind her, drawing a little closer. Before she can stop herself, her hand drops to her dagger hilt.

“Very well. The Seeker has seen through the eyes of the storm. He looked down on the world from on high, and he has seen we mortals as mere insects, to destroy or spare at his whim. And now that lordly pride is in him, a part of him: A growing sickness that will overtake him in due time.”

“Then why do I fight to protect Stonetop, Cerys, if the lives of mortals mean so little to me?” Vahid replies, his voice still shaking with anger.

“Why, you do not fight for Stonetop!” Cerys snaps back, every word a needle. “You fight to seize power from this Cirl-of-the-Storms, to make it your own! To wield the works of the Makers for your own ends!”

“Not for his own ends! To help his friends!” Anwen protests.

As quickly as Cerys’ voice rose, it quiets. “Perhaps that is so. For now.” The priestess leans back and holds up a hand to Mado. Anwen looks back at him and finds to her surprise that, silently, he has come quite close indeed. He stands within hand’s — or blade’s — reach of Vahid. Their eyes meet, and he shrugs apologetically, his eyes laughing, before withdrawing to his place by the door.

Cerys returns her gaze to Vahid. “Listen well, boy, for it is not only your soul you imperil. You have become as the storm, and so the storm has become like you, a mortal of flesh and blood. Spirits are not like us: They live; they die; they live again, and feel no fear of each season’s passing. But when they see through men’s eyes, they learn to fear the end. That fear of death consumes them, twists them into unnatural things.”

Memories of his duel with the hdour come to Vahid now, unbidden: The sorcerer’s enslaved storm-spirits raging and battering themselves against his shield, begging him to let them through. Their voices ring out in his mind: ‘We have been called to this place. Let us pass or we will surely die!’¹

There is a long silence. Cerys lets it hang like an executioner’s sword. “I had no choice,” Vahid says finally. “Our defeat was at hand. Would it have been better if I had held back, and Anwen and Padrig perished on the field?”

Cerys ignores his question. “Mark those words well, Anwen, when you hear them again: ‘I had no choice.’ This is what men say before they commit terrible outrages.”

Anwen shakes her head furiously, dismissing Cerys’ words, even as she remembers Padrig’s description of that night, when Vahid’s storm rained thunderbolts down on Stormcrows and Delvers alike. "Enough," she says. "We can argue about Vahid’s soul later. Now, today, the sorcerer is gathering his forces to send against us. We need your aid, Cerys. The sorcerer will seek Stormcatcher’s Crown, and only Elder Kirs knows where it is hidden. We must go to the Crossroads and speak to the dead. You, among all the Stonefolk, know of this place and its magic. Will you help us, or no?”

Cerys thinks for a long moment in silence. “Very well. This path is a foolhardy one, but it is yours to choose. If you would go to the Crossroads and beckon to one beyond the Last Door, first, you must call them by their true name. Is Kirs the name he was given at his mother’s breast?”

Vahid nods. “Named for his ancestor, who hid Stormcatcher’s Crown in a lost barrow.”

“A heroic deed, that you now seek to undo. Next, you must bring with you something they held close in life, and a taste of food or drink they favored, while such things still sustained them.”

Anwen looks to Vahid. “I do not know what Elder Kirs favored. His life seemed empty of most pleasures.”

Vahid inclines his head. “Meat or mead, I could not say. But he smoked the lotus leaf, and the physiker² who fled from the Delve with us has a store.”

“Do this, and you will have a chance to reach him. But the dead most readily come to those who are bound to them by blood or kinship.”

“It will have to be enough,” Anwen says. “Thank you, Elder.”

“One last caution. Sometimes, other things will come when beckoned. And those who appear at the Crossroads may be reluctant to return beyond the Last Door. Take this.” She reaches down to a beaded leather pouch at her belt, and draws out a tight bundle of dried sprigs. “Henbane. Its smoke will drive back the spirits of the dead.”

The two of them bow low to Cerys. “Thank you, Elder. For your wisdom.”

“And your trust,” Vahid says softly.

Cerys gives him a sharp glance. “Trust is for kith and kin, Seeker. Between us, there is only an understanding.”

Anwen puts her hand on Vahid’s shoulder and helps the Seeker to his feet before more words can be spoken, and they depart, leaving Mado alone with his mother.

“What is your measure of them, middle son?”

Mado snorts softly. Your only son, now, dear mother. “Anwen is as you said. She’s uncertain still, but there is true iron there. She faced you down, after all,” he grins, and his mother ignores it. “If this were the Marches, men would be gutting each other for a chance to make her a spearwife.”

“These are not the Manmarches, Mado, I thank you not to mention such barbarism here in Danu’s house. What of the Seeker?”

Mado considers the curious Lygosi, drawing his barrow-blade and admiring the shine of the blue-grey steel, and his reflection in it. “He is a strange one. I saw something take him when you wounded his pride, as though he heard the wind speak to him. Jarl Dane once told me: Never go to war against a man who takes orders from the gods.”

“The gods are giving orders to a great many men, these days. It seems we have no choice.”

Mado stifles a smirk at Cerys’ unwitting echo of Vahid’s words and returns to the business at hand. “They’ll waste no time heading to the Crossroads.”

Cerys’ eyes narrow in thought. “Follow them. I wish to know what they learn there.”

Mado smiles wryly. Three days gone, and already a witch’s catspaw. Welcome home, boy.

Scene Breakdown

This is one of those ‘social combat’ scenes that I find PbtA supports really well. Let’s get into the detailed mechanics of the scene — this is a fairly in-depth runthrough, so if you’re just here for the fiction, feel free to skip away.

We begin with setting the stakes of the scene: Vahid mentions that Cerys’ help would be useful in dealing with the dark magic of the Crossroads. If that revelation came out of now where, you’re right: It did. As I was envisioning the scene, I realized any interrogation Cerys did of the PCs would fall flat if they didn’t need anything from her. One possible consequence is she could make trouble for them as they’re trying to pull the village together to prepare their defenses, but as a consequence, is a little weak: It’ll take place mostly in the background, and it doesn’t relate to our core focus, which is Vahid’s journey to the Crossroads and the ramifications of his use of forbidden magic. So, I decided to make the (relatively reasonable) assessment that Cerys will know something useful about the Crossroads.

Then, we did a little character work, as Anwen and Vahid approach the Healing Hut. We’re on the homefront, and Vahid’s various ordeals changed him, so it’s good to crystallize that change with a scene. I used the Keep Company question list and used “What new thing do you reveal about yourself?” with Vahid revealing that he’s beginning to feel alienated from Stonetop (and humans, generally).

To envision Cerys’ interrogation of Vahid, I used Stonetop’s list of GM Threat Moves. These moves aren’t mechanical, they’re simply broad descriptions of actions that you can use to inspire your GMing when you’re portraying these characters or events. Way back when we first envisioned Cerys, we envisioned her as a Wildcard-type threat, which is perfect for a village antagonist who can challenge your PCs in ways other than combat. In this conversation, Cerys is using a bit of a blend of two different threat moves: Reveal a secret (Vahid’s ‘corruption’ through his communion with the storm spirits) and Force an issue or a confrontation (between Anwen and Vahid). We’re sort of assuming that Cerys has some sort of empathic sense or sight-beyond-sight that lets her read Vahid, but that seems reasonable given her role and status in the village.

Cerys’ poking and proding arouses Vahid’s prideful anger, and to represent this mechanically, I triggered the whispers compel you, the same move we used back in Session 14.5 (Part 1), when Vahid was enticed to once again bind storm-spirits into his body to confront the sorcerer.

According to that move’s text, once he succumbed to that temptation, he opened himself to compulsion in the future, and now compelled he is! Cerys has offended the part of Vahid that thinks of himself as a lordly spirit of the heavens, and that part of Vahid wanted to respond strongly. Probably not the best move, if they want Cerys’ help with the Crossroads.

Vahid triggered the whispers compell you: 5+2+1 Wisdom = 8, Weak Hit

On a weak hit, Vahid had to choose from a list of fairly undesirable options:

Source: Stonetop // Jeremy Strandberg

None of these would have allowed him to hide his situation from Cerys and Mado, and that’s the primary consequence here from the weak hit. Since the compulsion isn’t to strike Cerys down with a bolt of lightning, but rather just to verbally put her in her place, options 1 and 2 come out to roughly the same outcome: He struggles with his anger, but doesn’t actually lose control and clap back at Cerys. I decided to go with that option, rather than having Vahid abruptly thrust his hand into the hearth fire.

So Vahid holds himself back from exploding in anger, and Anwen steps in. She’s demanding Cerys recognize Vahid’s sacrifices and treat him with some respect. For this, she’s triggered Persuade, using the Speak Truth to Power playbook move to give her advantage:

Anwen triggered Persuade w/ Advantage: 2+4+2+1 Charisma = 7, Weak Hit

With a weak hit, Anwen must ‘do something difficult or distasteful’ to persuade Cerys. In this case, Cerys will ultimately accept that Vahid is fighting the good fight, but not before she demands them to listen to her beat him up a bit.

Once Cerys backs off a little bit — “Perhaps that is so. For now.” — Anwen asks for her aid. She makes the same roll here, Persuade with advantage:

Anwen triggered Persuade w/ Advantage: 4+5+1+1 Charisma = 10, Strong Hit

For once, Cerys agrees without complaint, and provides them with information and a valuable item for their trip out to the Crossroads. Then, in her conversation with Mado, we trigger one last move: Mado was watching the conversation closely, and uses Seek Insight to ask some questions about Vahid.

Mado triggers Seek Insight: 6+3+1 Wisdom = 10, Strong Hit

For his three questions, Mado asks what here is not as it seems, and who or what is really in control here, and what is about to happen? To answer his questions, Vahid reveals a few things (much of which the readers already know, so I didn’t belabor it in the fiction). The Seeker shares with the Fox that:

1. He is indeed compromised by the whispers of the storm-spirits. Mado connects this to earlier experiences with the supernatural, and has an intuitive understanding of Vahid’s condition.

2. Between he and Anwen, neither of them are truly ‘in control’ — they regard one another as true peers, even despite Vahid’s creeping hubris.

3. Vahid and Anwen intend to head to the Crossroads without delay.

Finally, Cerys bids him to ‘go with them’ — will Mado talk his way to the Crossroads, or will he follow them in secret? This decision was the subject of last episode’s poll — let’s see how y’all voted:

Mado will use his skills as a Fox and follow Anwen and Vahid unobserved to the Crossroads. We’ll dive right into that scene now. The walk to the Crossroads is about 15 miles, so Anwen and Vahid leave more-or-less immediately. Vahid is still physically weakened from his ordeal, so they move slowly, and Mado is able to get ahead of them and find a hiding place near the Crossroads from which he can observe.

As they travel, Anwen and Vahid would likely discuss what happened — his anger, Cerys’ accusations, where they stand with one another. We won’t depict this conversation, since it’ll most likely just rehash what we know already: Anwen is worried for Vahid; Cerys has successfully made her confidence waver in Vahid, and Vahid is annoyed that he must answer such questions when their need is so dire.

Scene 4: Approaching the Crossroads

A copse of dool trees overlook the Crossroads. // Source: Midjourney

The sun hangs low and red above the western grasslands as Anwen and Vahid make for the Crossroads. Long shadows stretch from the dool trees across the intersection of the ancient roads, and the evening wind carries a chill that has nothing to do with the season.

Beneath the trees’ grasping branches, Mado awaits their approach, absolutely still. The copse provides good cover—the trees' thick, twisted trunks and low-hanging branches create deep pockets of shadow where a man of his talents can crouch unseen. Unseen was always best when Dane’s shieldthanes were mead-mad. Or when Owain was storming at some fool slight. He shifts slightly to get a better view, careful not to disturb the pale yellowish fungi that cluster around the tree's base like scattered bones.

Finally, he sees two figures, cresting a rise against the red sky. Anwen walks beside her bay mare, one hand on the reins, the other holds a short, nasty-looking javelin. Vahid sits astride the mare with obvious discomfort, gripping the Azure Hand across his lap and holding a lantern at his side with the other.

Even from afar, and even before they reach the crossroads, Mado can see the tension in both of them — the magus’ eye glows blue, the same way it did when his mother aroused his anger, and Anwen keeps her distance, the mare’s lead slack as the obedient beast follows her.

Despite whatever words passed between them on the road, when Anwen helps the Seeker down from the saddle, Mado notices how carefully she supports him, how his legs nearly buckle before he finds his footing and supports himself with that staff of his. Whatever happened to the Seeker in that sorcerous duel has left him weaker than he appears. Mado hears his mother’s voice in his ear. Mark the Seeker well, middle son, she had said when news reached them that the Marshal’s party had returned. Use all your cunning to find where he is weak. One day, you may have to kill him.

The mare shies away from the Crossroads, hooves stamping and nostrils flaring, and Anwen has to speak softly and stroke its neck before it will stand still long enough for her to tie the lead to a scrubby tree by the roadside. She joins the Seeker in the center of the Crossroads, and they share a quiet word. The sun has set now, and Mado steals closer in the falling dark, his ears straining to hear them.

Mado triggers Defy Danger w/ Dexterity: 4+4+2 Dexterity = 10, Strong Hit

He remains hidden from the other PCs. We’ll now shift perspectives to Vahid and Anwen — Mado is watching, waiting for the moment to return to Cerys unseen, or perhaps to intervene, if something goes wrong.

---

“Which of us should call to him?” Anwen says. She sinks her spear into the earth at the roadside, and draws young Kirs’ dagger, given to him by his father. Both dead, now, at Cirl-of-the-Storms’ command. We have to stop him. The thought of them steels her heart against the gloom that hangs over this place like a shroud.

Vahid holds out his hand. “I shall. I bore him news of his son’s death. We were bound together at that moment. Or so I hope.” Anwen takes the dagger by its bronze blade and offers it to the Seeker.

Vahid accepts it and places it at the center of the Crossroads, then goes to the mare’s saddlebags to retrieve a few leaves of fragrant lotus in a rough clay bowl. The pharmakeia joins the blade. Vahid stands with the offerings at his feet, and speaks. “Elder Kirs of the Sun-Spear. Though you have passed on, we have need of you. Come back, and help us avenge your death, and your son’s.”

Vahid triggers stand at the Crossroads: 4+3+2 [Item, Favored Sustenance] = 9, Weak Hit

On a weak hit, the PCs must choose two undesirable effects from a list³, and for this consequence, I chose they have no intention of returning peacefully to their rest and something comes through with them — exactly what Cerys warned could happen. Back to the action:

The night is silent, save for the whisper of the cool breeze. Above, the rising stars seem dim and sallow through the mist that hangs everywhere, and neither nightbird’s song nor insect’s buzz provides relief from the oppressive quiet. Then, after a timeless moment, there is a strange smell — wet earth and a numbing spice, the odor of burnt lotus leaf.

Next, his rasping voice, so quiet it almost cannot be discerned from the sound of the breeze shaking the dool trees’ branches: “Have I not borne the weight of this world enough, Seeker? Must I be banished even from death?”

“The Lady of Crows will beckon you back soon, honored elder. We need your counsel. You alone found the Yezkial the Thrice-Betrayer’s tomb, where Stormcatcher’s Crown is hidden. Our enemy seeks it. Tell us how to reach the barrow so that we might deny him his prize.”

From the corner of Vahid’s eye, he sees movement — the dagger seems to stir on the black paving stones, and a breeze casts the lotus leaves from the bowl and scatters them.

The shadows and mist seem to take shape before their eyes as a half-formed eidolon—the old, rough face of Elder Kirs, his gnarled hand holding his son’s dagger before him, his pale deel robe stained with his life’s blood. “I remember this blade. How familiar it feels in my hand. I remember the morning I placed it in my son’s basket. Now that thread is cut.”

“We will avenge your son,” Anwen says. “But you must help us.”

Vahid rolls Persuade, w/ Advantage: 4+5+1+1 Charisma = 10, Strong Hit

Kirs’ shade turns its back on Anwen, drifting towards the edge of the Crossroads. As he comes to the roadside, a chill wind blows, whistling through the dool trees with a strange, unnatural keening. Anwen and Vahid must strain to hear the shade’s whispers above the howls. “East of the Titan’s Bones, there is a valley with a still, black lake at the bottom, where none of the tu’ud dare go. The barrow is there. It is a hateful place, exiled from the true world. It cannot be seen by the light of the sun nor the moon. On lightless nights, an island appears, and upon it, a mound of black glass stones. The Thrice-Betrayer is entombed therein, with his trusted guardians.”

“What defenses guard it?” Vahid asks.

Kirs looks back, towards them, and the Crossroads’ center. “Lo, I hear the Crowmother’s call. She beckons me back to the Last Door.”

“Soon, Elder. Tell us: What must we prepare for?”

“The sorcerer king’s riders range out from the tomb, and hunt the unwary as they did in life. Within the tomb is the Thrice-Betrayer himself. Three merciless shades attend him, his brothers whom he murdered and bound to his royal mantle. No earthly blade can harm them.”

The wind howls again, clawing at their cloaks and rattling the branches of the dool trees. The sound is like claws upon stone. Anwen feels a prickle on her back, like a spider crawling up her neck. She whirls, but behind her are only tendrils of mist. “Vahid! Something is coming!” Anwen calls.

Vahid grinds his teeth. There is so much more to ask, but he senses something too: A cold void in the swirling mists, blacker than pitch black in the sight of his storm-marked eye. “Return to your rest, Elder Kirs,” he says.

His shade-black eyes bore into Vahid. The ghostly twin of Anwen’s dagger is still in his hand. “No. I stood before my forefathers at the foot of Heol’s throne, and they turned their backs. I must avenge my son.”

“No! You must go back!” Anwen cries. But the shade turns away, and steps beyond the boundary of the road. When his faded form passes over the threshold, a terrible, keening howl sounds over the grasslands. Anwen whirls, seeking the source, but it seems to come from all around, and nowhere.

Then, a pair of pale lights cut through the mist — burning eyes, pale grey, drawing ever closer. Then a second pair, and a third.

We’re going to close Part 1 of this episode out right here, but not before we do a quick roll. Vahid has studied Stonetop’s village chronicle extensively, and consults his knowledge to learn what manner of creature they face.

Vahid triggers Know Things: 6+6+2 Intelligence = 14, Strong Hit

For a strong hit, Vahid learns something interesting and something useful. From their glowing eyes their keening howls, Vahid suspect these creatures are the crin annwun, the ghost-hounds of the Pale Hunter, who rides forth from the unseen world to hunt the spirits of the restless dead. Vahid half-believed they were just ghost stories, but at the edge of the world, ghost stories have a way of proving quite true.

As for the useful piece of information: The hounds are not primarily here for them, they are here for Elder Kirs. If Anwen and Vahid help them catch Elder Kirs, they will return to whatever dead realm they came from.

Of course, Vahid may not want them to drag Kirs back to the realm of the dead. This restless shade, bent on revenge, could be a useful ally against Cirl-of-the-Storms.

This will be the subject of this episode’s poll. Does Vahid:

1. Light the henbane bundle, and use it to hold the Pale Hunter’s hounds at bay while Kirs’ shade escapes?

2. Tell Anwen they must pursue Kirs’ shade and help the hounds catch their prey?

Lead the Pale Hunter’s hounds to the button below to cast your vote!

Thanks as always for reading! Feel free to share your thoughts, about your votes or anything you loved or hated about the episode, in the comments section. Next episode will drop on or before 9/28!

1. This was back during Vahid’s confrontation with Cirl in Session 14.5 Part 2.

2. This is the as-yet unnamed physiker who we first met in Parvati’s brothel, and who accompanied our heroes back from Gordin’s Delve and took care of Vahid after his defeat by the hdour.

3. You can see the full text of the move way back in Session 3.1, when we first introduced and set up the Crossroads, almost 4 years ago!