The Pale Hunter rides forth. Vahid rides the wind. The end comes for the Seeker.
Oct 13, 2025
Recap
Last episode, Vahid and Anwen journeyed to the Crossroads to contact the shade of Elder Kirs, hoping to learn the location of Stormcatcher’s Crown. Unknown to them, Cerys had commanded her son Mado to follow and observe, wary of the Seeker’s growing corruption. The summoning succeeded—Elder Kirs’ spirit manifested and revealed the crown’s location. But the dead warrior refused to return peacefully to his rest, consumed with the need to avenge his son’s death.
His defiance drew the attention of the crin annwun, spectral hounds that hunt restless spirits who resist the Lady of Crows’ call. Vahid chose to aid Kirs’ escape rather than surrender him to the hounds—hoping to gain a powerful supernatural ally against their sorcerous enemy. The party held the beasts at bay with magick lent by Elder Cerys, but it was Mado’s timely intervention with his barrow-blade that finally drove the creatures back beyond the Last Door.
With the hounds banished and Kirs’ shade escaped into the night, Vahid made a fateful decision. Despite Anwen’s protests, the Seeker called out a second time at the Crossroads, summoning the shade of Indrasduthir herself—the ancient Maker sorcerer known as Stormcatcher. But the dice fell poorly, and now something stirs in the darkness at the Crossroads. What, exactly, that something is was the subject of last episode’s poll — let’s see what you chose:
A close-run race, with the Pale Hunter leading the pack (so to speak). Back to the fiction, as Vahid’s hubris summons death’s champion:
Scene 5: The Crossroads
The wind dies.
Not with the slow evening fading of the cool spring breeze, but an unnatural stillness. The night air is filled with the droning of crickets, rising to a pitch that feels impossibly loud, like a choir of fervent worshippers.
Vahid stands at the Crossroads, Stormcatcher’s true names still turning over in his mind. Come forth, damn you! Have I not faithfully walked your path? Have I not sacrificed much to stand here before you? His heart hammers against his ribs.
Mado puts his hand on Anwen’s shoulder, pulling her back, away from the crossroads, towards where her Hillfolk steed is tethered. “We should go. All of us. Now. Seeker…”
Before Mado can entreat Vahid further, a low, mournful winding rings out, the same note that called the crin back from the realm of the living.
“No… It cannot be!” Mado breathes.
The Seeker sees it first. In the middle of the Crossroads, where the four ways meet, the fog grows thick and blackens until it is the color of pyre-smoke. The night grows colder, pricking the skin on the back of the Seeker’s neck, and he can see his breath mists before his face.
A tall, slender steed steps out from the fog.
It is the color of old bone, its eyes hollow pits that burn with pale flame. No saddle mars its back. No bridle guides it. Its stride is unhurried, and when its chalk-white hooves strike the stones, no sound can be heard.
On its back is a tatterdemalion figure, wrapped in a grey shroud. It holds a long spear high, its shaft is twisted and gnarled as though it was plucked straight from the earth, and its leaf-blade is neither iron nor bronze, but black as the void between the stars. Around his head is a queer, fluttering halo—a flock of moths, dancing in strange, unending patterns in the night air.
The Pale Hunter comes. // Source: Midjourney
Vahid cannot see the rider’s face. There is a hood, and beneath it, nothing his eye can behold, neither in this world nor the unseen one. The more he wills himself to look upon it, the more his gaze slides away like water off oiled leather.
The storm-spirit in Vahid’s cloak awakens, its silk blowing as though in a mighty gale, though the air is tomb-still. Through the trembling of the Azure Hand, the Seeker can sense its terror. Cerys’ words ring in his mind. When spirits see through men’s eyes, they learn to fear the end, she said. And now death has come.
“The Pale Hunter! It can be no other!” Mado shouts, drawing his sword. The silver-blue blade glowed like a candle when the Hunter’s hounds drew near; now it shines like the fullest moon. “Ready yourself to see the Lady, Seeker — this is her champion, and he cannot be overcome by any arms we wield!”
Anwen steps in front of her friend, her aetherium spear beginning to crackle and spark with anticipation. “I am with you Vahid. To whatever end.” The Seeker can see the rage in her eyes—rage at his heedlessness—which has made her forget her fear of the thing approaching them.
“Tor’s balls, you’re a madwoman,” Mado growls as he stands at her shoulder. “This damned hexer will be the death of us all!”
“No,” Vahid says quietly. “The hounds came for Kirs, and now their master comes for me. Me alone.”
He reaches out in the unseen world with the Azure Hand and stirs the storm-spirit of his cloak awake. “Arise, spirit. Show me the meaning of haste.”
In the face of death itself, the spirit called His-Laughter-is-the-Thunder needs no more encouragement. With a howl of wind, it lifts the Seeker from the cold stone and bears him swiftly aloft, leaving Mado and Anwen looking up at him as he disappears into the night sky.
Scene Breakdown & Dealing with Invincibility
A few GM notes here before we shift perspective in this scene from Vahid to Anwen. The Pale Hunter is the first entity we’ve presented in this story that is invincible, in the literal sense: Not just unkillable, but unconquerable, undefeatable. He wants Vahid, and he will have him. The Pale Hunter raises an interesting challenge: How do you run a truly invincible foe at the gaming table?
What follows are some thoughts on that topic. If you’re itching for the fiction, feel free to skip ahead. Otherwise, onward!
No Living Man May Hinder Me!
Scenes with (seemingly) unvanquishable foes make for grand drama in our favorite fantasy ur-texts. But dealing with these types of antagonists in TTRPGs can be thorny. If you search Reddit for “Unwinable Fights,” there’s a little bit of salty discourse, and a healthy dose of good advice for GMs who are looking to present an implacable force of nature like the Pale Hunter.
Paging through the advice you can find on these sites, you’ll find a few oft-repeated principals — the GM folk wisdom on the topic. This wisdom applies largely to Dungeons & Dragons, but some of it is generalizable. Here are some ‘Do’s,’ drawn from the various threads:
Establish a path to some sort of alternate victory: If the PCs are definitely going to be defeated, it can help to give them some sort of small win: Hold off an enemy for so many turns, protect a particular NPC, destroy something important before being vanquished, that sort of thing.
Establish the danger clearly. Players—particularly those who want to play a challenging game where they win through tactical smarts—ought to be clearly signalled upfront that a foe is beyond them. Even in more narrative games, it’s valuable to signal the danger, as it helps players better envision their characters’ reactions to such a threat.
Offer clear escape routes. If the goal is for the party to flee and confront the foe later, ensure the characters have a clear escape route to use where they’re reasonably confident the enemy won’t follow.
The primary aim of this advice is to avoid feel-bad moments for players. This is particularly important at tables with a Gamist creative agenda — players who want to overcome challenges with their tactical acumen, rules mastery, and luck. When a GM presents an unbeatable foe at this sort of table, it represents a violation of the social contract of the gaming table, and it needs to be acknowledged as such, or the players will feel betrayed.
At more Narrativist table, where players are primarily focused on envisioning a dramatic story, these sorts of foes are still risky. They artificially close off directions the story could take, and undermine a player’s authorship of their character’s fate. After all, why shouldn’t the party be able to overcome death’s champion? Why shouldn’t Mado’s barrow-blade be able to cut this fell avatar? Because the GM says so? Because that’s what’s in the setting book2?
Well, yes. Wearing my GM hat, I think it’s much more interesting, dramatic, and true to the feel of the setting and story if the Pale Hunter is like a natural disaster moreso than a big, bad boss fight. Since this is a solo game, I can let my GM within run wild. But at the gaming table, it’d be wise to at least hear the party out, and persuade them that it’s the right way to go (or be persuaded by them, if they make a great case).
When this guy is coming at you, ‘roll initiative’ just doesn’t cut it // Source: Midjourney
As for how to adjudicate it: PbtA games are very amenable to the GM taking the reins and envisioning the implacable actions of a god or force of nature. In the rules of most incarnations, from original recipe Apocalypse World all the way to a modern model like Stonetop, it’s right there in the rules: When the PCs roll a Miss, make a move as hard as you want.
‘A move as hard as you want’ is everything even up to the archetypically terrible ‘rocks fall, everyone dies.’ When the spotlight passes to the GM in PbtA, he or she has maximal agency to envision the ensuing events, and its the GM’s responsibility to use this authority wisely. But of course, PbtA games are conversations — if the GM goes on too long, or says something crazy, the players are within their rights to interrupt and say “Hey, is there anything I can do about this?”
Give them answers, but manage their expectations: There’s lots of stuff you CAN do, but none of it is going to hinder the Pale Hunter. Then, it’s the players’ responsibility to play the responsibility to play the scene to the hilt. Player-characters are very rarely folks who accept defeat — even defeat that they know to be inevitable. That’s why we like them! And that’s why we choose to portray them in our fleeting spare time.
What’s been your experience at the gaming table with unwinnable fights, either on the GM’s side of the screen, or the player’s? Have you ever had moments of high drama against an invincible enemy? Or moments of frustration where the GM railroaded the party with a scripted fight that felt like an unskippable cutscene? Let me know in the comments!
Now, let’s talk about what our PCs did here. First, Mado triggered Know Things to see if the stories Cerys has told him about the Pale Hunter include anything about killing him—not a great roll for him, with his -1 Int.
Mado triggered Know Things: 3+4-1 Int = 6, Miss
He misses, but now is the perfect time to roll misses, since the party knows they can’t win the fight. As a consequence, we reveal an unwelcome truth—perhaps my favorite name for a GM move—and let Mado know that all the tales say the Pale Hunter is utterly deathless and relentless. You’ll note that this reveal also heeds the advice we saw above: Establish the danger clearly.
Next, Vahid makes the same roll. At the gaming table, I can just imagine his player chiding Mado’s to never again attempt to know anything.
Vahid triggered Know Things: 5+6+2 Intelligence = 13, Strong Hit
With his roll, he now knows that the Pale Hunter is here for him and him alone—so the one surest way to save his friends is to lead the rider and his hounds away. This reveal implements more of the above advice — offer clear escape routes. In this case, the escape is for Mado and Anwen, and not Vahid.
Before Vahid can act, Anwen uses Anger is a Gift — she holds 2 Resolve, because danger to her friends awakens her anger (in the fiction, I themed it as her being angry at Vahid, rather than the Pale Hunter. This mess is his fault, after all).
She then spends that resolve to stifle her abject terror of death’s champion and stand in defense of Vahid. But rather than let her face death with him, Vahid awakens the storm-spirit in his cloak and flees the scene. I did not require Vahid to roll Command Followers to do so—the cloak, having been infected with Vahid’s fear of mortality, is only too happy to withdraw.
That brings us back to the present moment. Let’s shift to Anwen’s perspective and continue the scene:
Vahid soars into the dark sky as Anwen and Mado watch helplessly. The rider raises a gnarled horn to its faceless void, and another haunting note sounds over the Flats. His hounds charge forth, swimming out of the mist, their pale eyes burning, and they answer with a keening howl, and the steed breaks into a gallop.
Anwen and Mado steel themselves for the fell charge, but before their eyes, the whole deathly host takes to the sky on Vahid’s heels, climbing the wind, leaving tracks of white fire in their wake. Vahid’s storm-spirit leaves a trail of roiling storm-clouds, and the twin paths streak across the sky, south and east.
Without hesitation, Anwen rushes towards her upland steed. Smoke champs and stamps, pulling at her lead. Mado follows close behind — it takes Anwen a moment to realize he is speaking to her.
“South-east! Towards the ruined tower! Perhaps your friend knows something we don’t. If there’s anywhere the Hunter won’t follow him, perhaps it’s that accursed place?”
Anwen is already astride Smoke, her eyes still fixed on the sky, where white fire chases dark clouds. “Get back to Stonetop! Tell Padrig—”
Mado laughs madly, pulling himself onto the upland mare’s broad back, behind Anwen. “I think not, Marshal. If I return without you and you die out there, half the village will think I slid a knife in your back for what you did to Owain. I’ve got no choice.”
Anwen snorts. “Then hold fast.” She drives her heels into Smoke’s flanks, and the steed explodes into motion, cutting through the tall Flats grass as fast as she dares in the dark of night.
Scene 6: The skies above the Flats
Vahid flies on the wind of His-Laughter-is-the-Thunder, higher and faster than they have ever flown before. The grasslands disappear below them, swallowed up by the dark of night, and as the air thins, Vahid’s breath comes in ragged gasps.
He dares not look back. The keening of the crin grows louder, and the horn sounds again, driving the storm-spirit feral with terror. This way and that, the storm winds blow, hemmed in by the baying hounds. On the eastern horizon, a dark shape rises against the stars—the jagged silhouette of broken stone and Makerglass. The Ruined Tower3.
Vahid triggers Know Things w/ Disadvantage4: 4+4+4+2 Intelligence = 10, Strong Hit.
Vahid’s mind races. Stormcatcher’s ancient abode. Why here? Does the spirit hope for sanctuary in her ruins? He looks to the south and the north— searing trails of white on every side, cutting off every path, save for the one ahead. No. We are being driven here. The Hunter’s choice, not ours. His breath catches, and not from the thin air alone. Mado was right. There is no escape. The gods willing, Anwen is safe. Let that be enough.
Then all falls silent — the hounds, the horn, even the rushing wind. Though he does not see the spear rise, Vahid can feel the cut coming — a great emptying of the unseen world around him as the Pale Hunter’s black blade draws near.
The Hunter’s target is not Vahid, but his servant. The blade cuts through the storm-spirit’s eidolon, opening a terrible wound, and from it pours blood-red lightning, illuminating the sky as though the very world is ending.
As the spirit’s vis bleeds into the night sky, the dark earth below rises swiftly to meet them. Vahid wills everything to slow, that he might taste a few more drops of life, and impossibly, it does. The spirit fights with its death-agonies to keep them aloft, and each heartbeat stretches into precious minutes. He thinks of his fall from the skies above Gordin’s Delve, into the burning city. He remembers sinking into the roots of the Fate-Tree, guided by Katrin’s distant voice. He hears his mother’s voice in his ears as he walks out of the Scion Gates, every step on the road taking him farther from home than he has ever been before. “Please, my little Vahi,” she had begged. “Please do not go. I fear I will never see my son again. Promise me you will not forget yourself, so far from those who love you.”
The earth’s embrace, when it finally comes, is hard and unloving. Vahid and his spirit-servant descend onto the broken ground and jagged stone around Stormcatcher’s ruined tower—the impact is bone-shuddering, and for a moment, the world goes black.
Vahid comes to his senses with a shock—every nerve in his body burns. He can feel hot blood seeping from countless wounds, and a few pure-white points of agony where he is sure his bones are shattered. Then, through the haze of pain and the mist of his fading mind, he hears a voice: Cold and regal, echoing in both the earthly and unseen worlds.
Be not afraid.
He opens his eyes. Above him looms the Pale Hunter, tall and faceless. And towering over them both is Indrasduthir’s grand ruined edifice, made whole again: A pillar of stone and glass, rising to touch the very vault of heaven. It shines in the starlight, the firmament reflected in its mirror-bright facets.
Behold, your journey’s end.
Before Vahid’s fading eyes, the world turns red. A terrible fire roars down from the sky, sundering the topless tower like a child’s fragile creation. Unbreakable Makerglass shatters and boils away into vapor, hewn stone dissolves into running sand, and the many pieces of the tower begin to plummet down around them, falling slowly, as if sinking through dark water.
Woe follows greatness, as surely as night consumes the day.
Indrasduthir’s great work is unmade. // Source: Midjourney
As the tower is stricken, so strikes the Pale Hunter. His blade enters Vahid’s chest without a whisper, touching his heart. It stills. His chest will not rise. He drowns in air, lungs burning for breath that will not come.
Is it not a mercy to be freed from such strife?
Vahid tries to speak, to argue his case, but his body is beyond words, his mind nearly beyond thought.
Come, Seeker. The Last Door stands open. You are awaited in the lands beyond.
He sees it. A gate of pale silver, and beyond, darkness. At its threshold stands the Lady, her cold, kind hand outstretched to take his. Pain, sadness, and doubt fall away. His broken hand twitches, grasping for a pen that is not there, seeking vainly to inscribe this final moment on a page that is not there. All is swallowed by void.
Then, a breath. The wind, rising and falling in his chest. A soft roll of thunder in his chest. A spark of lightning that awakens his mind once again to burning, broken agony.
‘Not yet! Not yet!’ The storm-spirit cries. ‘We cannot die with our fate ungiven!’
Vahid’s eyes open. He feels a river of vis floods his body, awakening his senses and his limbs to burning agony. He searches his memories — how did he come to be in this place, his body broken and bleeding? He remembers many things — soaring above trackless wilds, above numberless herds of behemoths, looking up at him, their eyes begging for his bounty. He remembers his mother’s tears, falling like rain as he packed his things. He remembers casting his storm-wrath down upon defiant oaks and haughty pines, reducing these usurpers to burning splinters. He remembers his friend Anwen’s voice: I am with you, Vahid. To whatever end.
The memories ebb and flow, blending like brackish waters. Pain floods back—bones grinding, wounds bleeding. He strains his senses, seeking that silvered gate, but it is gone. Darkness takes him — not the Lady’s mercy, but only fitful, pain-wracked sleep.
We’ll close out this multipart episode here! Vahid has died, but he has come back. How did he defy death? And what will he do, now that he has been denied the Lady’s tender mercies? We’ll dive back into the fiction next episode, with Anwen and Mado hot on his trail.
That will be in your inboxes no later than 10/27, with potentially a mini-installment discussing how we’ll deal with Vahid’s death in the context of Stonetop’s rules of play.
As always, thanks for reading. I hope this brush with death was as enjoyable and satisfying as mortality can be!
In point of fact, this version of the Pale Hunter is somewhat different from what’s in Stonetop’s setting materials: In the official version, he is contained within the Great Wood, and often hunts things other than the undead and those who offend the Lady. For our purposes, I wanted to elevate his relationship to the Lady of Crows and downplay the primordial hunter aspect, to tie him strongly into our Crossroads story beat.
We first encountered the Ruined Tower back in Session 4.6, during the party’s homecoming from Marshedge. Back then, we didn’t explicitly connect it to Stormcatcher, but in the setting materials, it is indeed linked to this enigmatic Maker — something that Vahid likely knew, but had yet to act upon.
Vahid is still carrying two Debilities from his travails in Gordin’s Delve and beyond, and so will have disadvantage for nearly any roll on INT, WIS, CHA, and CON. Rough.
<shaking head> Vahid, you arse.
Great stuff as usual. I can't wait to see how (if at all) Vahid gets out of this one, and what it means for the upcoming confrontation with Cirl.
So Vahid is somehow reborn, but the tower is undone? Have I got that right? Seems a mighty coincidence if so….