Last episode, the party met with a Heoling1 Hillfolk delegation to begin negotiations, and they began at a knife’s point. Kirs, a skilled Hillfolk warrior, had captured one of the Companions, and their leader, a sun-priestess named Solnn, demanded to know who had sent armed warriors into their lands. Padrig and Vahid worked together to de-escalate the situation, and the Hillfolk agreed to share a campfire and break bread, during which they revealed that their band, the Sun Spears, have had a cursed season, rife with starvation and conflict. Padrig offers Stonetop’s aid, but Solnn proudly refuses, saying the Sun Spears will seek aid from other Hillfolk.
That night, the Hillfolk hdour appears in a vision to Vahid and offered to help him better understand the power of the Azure Hand — the form this offer took was a unnatural storm of lightning, flame and wind, lighting a great wildfire on the Flats, surrounding the party and the Hillfolk alike. Vahid struggled to control the inferno with the Azure Hand, but then, through the smoke and flame, (and goaded by the hdour), he experienced a moment of clarity and unlocked a greater mystery of the Arcana, allowing him to silence the wind and flames, to the amazement of the party and the Hillfolk. This show of power was not without cost, however — Vahid has been marked by the experience, and that was the subject of last week’s reader’s poll. Let’s see how y’all voted:
By a relatively narrow margin, we chose to bind Vahid to the staff. He can now summon it to his hand from long distances, but he is linked to it, and any harm it suffers is now suffered by him — as evidenced by the terrible burns he carries.
This choice is an interesting one because it was the only one that does not mark Vahid unmistakably as a being of arcane power — showing up at the Hillfolk encampment with glowing eyes or blue skin might have gained him a quick audience with the spirit-talker, but wearing the scars he suffered protecting their kinfolk will carry a different sort of weight.
When we left the action, Vahid just calmed the wildfire and storm and was standing at the crest of the crater.
Scene 5: After the fire.
Standing atop the crater, the makerglass monolith at his back and the dying flames of the wildfire at his feet, Vahid calls down to Solnn and the Hillfolk. “Tor is not the cause of your band’s woes, Solnn. A hdour bedevils you. He taunted me in a vision this night, sent this storm, he called up the wind and fanned the flames to ensnare your folk and mine. I ask you again: Will you not take us to your meistr, and let us make common cause?”2
Solnn is awestruck and silent at first. Hillfolk and Companions alike look about them in disbelief at the blackened grasslands around them, which were alive with hungry flames only a few moments ago.
It is Kirs who recovers his wits first and calls back to Vahid. “As you say, magi. We will take you to Juba.”
Solnn looks back at him reproachfully but does not contradict him. “My nephew is correct. Our meistr will wish to hear of this.”
Vahid bows his head, the gesture of respect hiding a grimace of pain. “Thank you. We will honor your trust. Let us go now, and swiftly — the hdour’s gaze is upon this place.”
The Hillfolk and the Companions hastily make ready to leave, coaxing fleeing horses back to hand and consolidating what supplies could be saved from the fire. As they do, Anwen, who had been with Vahid when he faced the fire, returns to his side, her face lined with worry.
He tries to hold up a reassuring hand to wave her off, but he sinks to one knee, wracked with pain, the Azure Hand falling from his grip. “Vahid, what is it?” — her voice is loud and urgent, attracting attention below.
“It is nothing, Anwen. I am fine. Merely a moment of weakness after great exertion,” he replies, smiling weakly.
She reaches to help him back to his feet but then gasps, recoiling. “Vahid! Your hand!” He looks down and sees an ash-black claw, cracked and charred to his forearm, where the ruin gives way to untouched flesh.
His face twists with fear, but it almost instantly gives way to wonder. He flexes his fingers and turns his hand over, examining the damage with a scholar’s eye. “I feel no pain. Nothing amiss. Only a strange pull towards…” his voice trails off, and his gaze briefly goes abstracted with concentration. Then, the Azure Hand, laying in the grass at his feet, shudders, and rises as swift as a loosed arrow back into Vahid’s burnt grip. The aetherium hand that tops the staff has been marked by the flames, as well — a layer of dark blue corrosion shines strangely in the dawn’s light.
Their eyes lock, and behind them, they can hear curious and concerned noises from the crowd below. “Vahid, what has happened to you?”
“I do not know. I feel as though I have crossed a threshold into a darkened room and only just begun to perceive the mysteries within. But I am not afraid.”
“I am afraid for you,” Anwen whispers.
“I am afraid for you, Anwen, when you go into danger for what you hold dear. But I do not stop you,” Vahid whispers back. He puts his unspoiled hand on hers, and she clutches it.
“Can you walk?”
He nods sturdily, and they rejoin the company. The Hillfolk give him a respectful berth, whispering among themselves as they move southwest deeper into the shifting grasslands of the Flats.
Setting the Scene
All that remains of this Session 6 now is to travel from the meeting place to the Hillfolk’s campsite. We’ll mark that time passing with another Keep Company move — this time, the PCs can target Kirs and Solnn, and gain some insight about what to expect when they arrive at the Hillfolk camp. We’ll pick these questions from the move list (you can see that full list here):
Vahid asks Solnn “What do we find ourselves talking about?” Solnn and Vahid would likely gravitate towards discussion of magic and the mystical — Solnn has no priestly magic, her band relies on a spirit-talker, allowing Vahid to learn how he might gain an audience.
Padrig asks Solnn “Who or what seems to be on your mind?” Chief among Solnn’s concern is the spearmoot her band has called, so we’ll learn a bit about that practice and what it entails.
Anwen asks Kirs “What do you do that’s annoying or endearing?” Anwen is riding a Hillfolk horse, and Kirs has opinions about how she’s doing it. This can set up a chance for Anwen to learn from him, continuing her warrior’s journey.
We’ll answer these three questions in a short series of scenes, and then roll into the week’s reader poll.
Source: Annita Keck, Wikimedia Commons
Scene 6: In the shadow of a twisted tree
Solnn calls a halt to the march at midday, in the shadow of a tall, gnarled tree, its pale, leafless branches clutching towards the clear blue sky. The Hillfolk dismount and Kirs leads a pair of them to the tree's base, where they speak in hushed tones, wetting their fingers from their meager waterskins and splashing the tree's roots. Solnn and the remaining riders maintain a respectful distance, taking a moment to graze their horses or eat from the rations shared by the Stonetop folk.
Vahid and Padrig have been walking alongside Solnn’s horse as she led them through the grasslands, and here she dismounts and invites them to rest with her. They sit on the rough ground — a grassless, rocky patch surrounding the lone tree, and take a moment of ease.
“Why do we stop here?” Vahid asks. “Is this place sacred to Heol?”
The priestess smiles. “All places the light falls upon are sacred to Heol. Is it not so in the south?”
Vahid chuckles. “It is written, yes. But Helior’s priests have grand temples in the south, where they say his light shines brighter. But if not to Heol, then to whom do your riders pay their respects?”
“This tree is Zhiad3 — the old man of the grasses, who has been a friend to our band since my great-grandmother's time. Our spirit-talker bids us water his roots when we pass by, lest he forgets the Sun Spears.”
“Do you not speak on your band’s behalf to the spirits?”
“I keep the light of Heol burning in my kin’s hearts. The spirits of the land are another matter, stren. Though he cannot speak to them, the spirits are drawn to Kirs. His sister, my niece, is our spirit-talker, and she whispers his name to the grasses and the wind.” Solnn smiles proudly, watching Kirs as he performs his duties.
“I would speak with her if I could. About the hdour — she might shed light on what he said to me and what I have seen.”
Solnn bobs her head uncertainly. “It is rarely done for outsiders. Even for others of our people, let alone a stren. But to see you come from the flame, your hand burnt but whole…” she trails off. “Strange days are upon us. Perhaps, after the spearmoot, I could speak to her protector on your behalf.”
Padrig breaks his silence. “What is decided at a spearmoot? I have heard tell of these gatherings but little more than their name.”
“Matters that might end a band and its bloodline. They are often called to begin and end feuds, but we have called this one to seek aid from the tu’d, to save our families from starvation.”
“What stops your enemies from heeding the call and striking at your camp while you are weak?”
“A spearmoot is a solemn truce — a betrayer who would break it could never stand in Heol’s light again. None of the tu’d would ever trust their word — even storm-folk. But no doubt our enemies will come to crow over our misfortune.”
“Which bands do you expect?” Padrig asks. Behind him, Ozbeg has been hovering, rummaging through his pack, and the old bandit hears him pause, waiting for Solnn’s answer.
“From among the Heolings, the Yellow Cloud Band and the Crow Teeth are the nearest to our riding grounds. And the largest band of storm-folk near here are the White Arrows,” Solnn ticks off their neighbors, one by one on her calloused fingertips.
From the corner of Padrig’s eye, he sees Ozbeg visibly relax — no names that haunt them from the bad old days.
“If your meistr allows it, we can speak for Stonetop at this moot. If we have a good harvest, we may be able to help — the spirit of Tor the Rainmaker lives in our people. I know you feud with the storm-folk, but their quarrels are not ours.”
Solnn holds up her hand, stopping Padrig from further reassurance. “The feud between sun and storm is between the tu’d. I will speak to Juba, our meistr, and propose this, and we will put the question to the blooded for a decision.”
Padrig and Solnn clasp wrists, and then she rises, calling on the company to move.
Scene Breakdown
This scene triggered no moves (other than Padrig and Vahid’s Keep Company questions, of course) — from the GM’s perspective, it gave us a chance to set up the broad strokes of the next session, where we sojourn in the Hillfolk’s camp — specifically, meeting with the spirit-talker and participating in the spearmoot.
The spirit tree landmark was generated by Stonetop’s Fate tables — I started with a “Discoveries” table in the almanac entry about The Flats, and it yielded A point of interest → a site sacred to the spirits of the wild, and I had seen a photo of that bristlecone pine earlier this week, so I decided to run with that.
Scene 8: A dense thicket of tall grass
It is near sunset when the camp is spotted — a half-dozen columns of campfire smoke rising above a tall thicket of green and yellow grass4, and the Hillfolk let out a cheer. The riders begin to pick up their pace, eager to see their families again, leaving behind the Companions, following them on foot.
The Companions soldier forward, following the riders and pushing through grass that rises as tall as a full-grown man. Kirs, ever-watchful, drops back to watch their guests, bringing his horse even with Anwen, who sits astride her grey-and-white Upland mare. He has washed the coal markings from his face, and in the light of day, Anwen can see him clearly — a sharp-featured youth, blue eyes over a hawk nose, lean and wiry.
He draws his horse closer, his face first concerned, then confused, then tinged with concealed contempt. “Tch,” he clicks his tongue and speaks haltingly but clearly in Stonetongue5. “You have a Hillfolk horse, but you ride like a stren. Who taught you?”
Anwen flushes immediately. Her hands tighten on the reins, and in response, the willful piebald tosses her mane and dances to the side. “My mother taught me. She said she didn’t know much but that I should learn enough to get by. I’ve ridden this far, haven’t I?”
Kirs scoffs. “Only by her grace,” he grins and knickers softly, reaching his hand out to pet the mare. “I’ve spotted a dozen times she should’ve thrown you. Was she a gift? Did her true rider put her reins in your hands?”
“He was dead if you must know,” Anwen sputters, pulling the mare’s head away from his hand. “One of the bandits who was going to ambush us on the road. She panicked after the fight, and I mounted her and brought her to heel.”
“It’s true!” Ozbeg’s voice comes from behind them, irritated as the tall grass whips against his face. “I was there: One moment she was clinging to the beast’s neck like a thornbur, the next she was astride it and had the reins in hand, neat as you please. Call her a liar again, and I might take it amiss, friend.” Oz rattles the arrows in his quiver, for emphasis.
Kirs looks askance at Ozbeg. “You didn’t see me coming in the night, stren, so threaten another man.” But he looks back to Anwen appraisingly. “A horse so fine should be ridden well, stren. If you took her in battle, she can’t be taken from you as long as you still live, so I suppose my choices are to teach you to ride or to kill you.”
Anwen glares at him. “Is this how the Hillfolk speak to their guests? With threats?”
He shrugs. “It is how I speak to another rider, guest or not. Come find me in the camp, if you like.”
He urges his black gelding to a trot, pulling ahead. The tall grass breaks, and the Sun Spear camp spreads out in a shallow dell below them. A dozen clusters of squat, circular tents, bustling with people, are surrounded by rough pens of bony goats and ragged-looking sheep. The air smells of earthy dung smoke, but no cookfires.
A tired but joyful cry goes up when the nomads spot their returning fellows. Anwen self-consciously dismounts and walks alongside Ozbeg, who nods reassuringly at her as they approach the camp.
We’ll wrap up this episode and Session 6 here! The party has made contact with a somewhat-friendly band of Hillfolk and is in a good position to learn more about the hdour and Stonetop’s lost history.
Next episode, we’ll do the End-of-Session move, record XP, and then dive into Session 7, where we spend some time among the nomads. I want to get right into the action without a dedicated prep episode, since Session 6 was so short. The main questions we’ll be playing to find out the answers to for Session 7 are:
What can Vahid find out about the House of Nine Thunders and the Hillfolk’s role in concealing it?
What can the party learn about the hdour, his plans, and how best to confront him?
But that’s not all we’re going to get up to — there are a bunch of side-quest-esque plot threads that we could pursue, but when running a game (and, I suppose, writing a serial), you don’t have the focus to do it all. So, I’d like to use this week’s reader poll to pick some plot threads to put in the foreground and explore. Here’s what I’m thinking:
Padrig’s Past: We know a few of the bands that will show up to the spearmoot, but there could always be an unexpected visitor — someone that knows Padrig and the Companions from the bad old days.
Anwen learns from Kirs: Our last scene of Session 6 set this up — Kirs is a skilled Hillfolk warrior, and Anwen could take this opportunity to hone her skills.
Vahid’s cloak: Way, way back in Vahid’s Session Zero, we established that Vahid has in his possession an Arcana whose secrets have thus far eluded him, due to his inability to learn the name of the bound spirit:
The Hillfolk spirit-talker might be able to help him learn the spirit’s name, allowing him to unlock this Arcana and become even more of a definitely-not-a-wizard.
Anwen’s Debt: Earlier this session, Anwen mentioned the Makerglass charm a Hillfolk warrior gave her as he was dying. It has become something of a representation of Anwen’s uncertainty about the ethics of taking a life in combat. Someone among the Hillfolk may know something about these charms generally, or this youth specifically.
Young Brogan: Back in Session 4.2, we learned about the fate of one of Padrig’s crew back in Gordin’s Delve — he was taken and may still live, toiling in the mines. We are now fairly close to Gordin’s Delve, and the Hillfolk sometimes undertake missions to free captives from the Delve Bosses — Padrig could seek an alliance and go after his man.
Vahid’s Temptation: This session, we established the idea that the hdour may seek to entice Vahid to aiding him with promises of power. We could continue to explore this potentially dangerous path for the scholar.
We’ll approach this poll the same way we did the Session 6 Prep poll — you can choose your favorite two options. I am considering trying out ranked choice voting for this type of poll (thanks to reader Jeremy for the suggestion!) but for now I want to keep everything localized on Google Forms, so choose-2 it shall be. Click the button below to choose your faves:
We’ll do at least one and up to three, depending on how they unfold. Some of these are potentially meaty plot threads, and if the dice choose violence, they might sprawl into significant diversions. We’ll play to find out!
Recall that the Hillfolk are divided into two religious sects — those that worship the sun god Helior, called the Heolings, and the Tor-worshipping Storm-folk. We haven’t detailed many of the specifics of the Heoling faith, but we likely will define it a bit as we move forward.
No Persuade move is triggered here — this is a continuation of the previous episode Weak Hit scored by Padrig when he attempted to persuade Solnn to lead them to their camp. Vahid has proven that the party can help them in ways that the other Hillfolk may not be able to, so Solnn will now agree.
This landscape was also generated by the Fate tables — the dice suggested a simple change in terrain, with a thicket of exceptionally tall grass — 5’-8’ high. A scary place for an encounter, but fortunately, we’re just talkin’.
This is (I think) the first time we’ve put a name on Stonetop’s language. I don’t love calling it this, since it’s a shared language at least between Marshedge and Stonetop, but I also didn’t want to introduce another ‘foreign’ word while the new Hillfolk lingo was flying around fast and loose. If you’ve got any ideas, put ‘em in the comments! :)
Sorry I've been left behind with reading and voting, but I'm still here and thoroughly enjoying how things are progressing.