When I first picked 10/10 as the return date for PTFO:Stonetop it seemed like heaps and gobs of time, but it passed in the blink of an eye. I don’t know what I expected, given how the seasons seem to pass ever more rapidly as I get older and greyer and my kids get quicker and craftier.
I missed writing to you folks every week, but the time was much-needed — in the last two months, I had a hand in founding a new company and sat with my father while he passed away at a clinic in Switzerland. Both of these experiences probably have a lot that could be written about them, but this space is for Padrig, Anwen and Vahid’s fantastical, imaginary adventures, and not my mundane, real ones. If and when there’s anything to read about those moments, I’ll link out to them for the curious, but I won’t get into it much here on PTFO.
One final housekeeping note — this episode landed at a good length, but I’m still load-balancing PTFO with my other new work, so we may run shorter for future episodes. I’ll do my best to make sure good stuff is happening each episode, regardless of length.
Recap!
“It’s been a while, does anyone remember where we left off?” said every gamemaster since the beginning of the hobby. Our last three sessions dealt with the Hillfolk — our heroes travelled to meet a nearby band, the Sun-Spear, led by a proud and hot-headed meistr named Juba. The party’s goal was to establish an alliance against the Hillfolk sorcerer, Cirl, who covets the Azure Hand, Vahid’s staff which grants him mastery of the elements, as well as the ancient, powerful arcanum hidden beneath Stonetop.
During this arc, each of the PCs was able to prove themselves to their Hillfolk hosts. Anwen proved herself as a warrior, first in the sparring circle and then against a powerful adversary — an assassin imbued by his sorcererous master with the power of the storm. Padrig proved himself as a protector and a leader, helping Juba secure much-needed supplies for his starving band and giving wise counsel to help the old Hillfolk meistr see through the sorcerer’s machinations. And Vahid proved himself to the Sun-Spear’s spirit-talker, accompanying her on a vision quest to reveal the sorcerer’s origins and his far-reaching plans. The alliance secured, the party returned to Stonetop to rest, recover, and plan their next move. If you’re new to the story, or find your memory of these events hazy, I’d invite you to check out the good old table of contents, where every episode is linked in chronological order.
At the end of the last episode, we left our heroes at the harvest feast of calangaeaf, just as cold winter was beginning to grip the land. To close out the episode and Session 8, we rolled the Seasons Change: Winter move — here it is, as a refresher:
Source: Stonetop // Jeremy Strandberg
We selected Vahid as the most weary, and he rewarded us for that assessment by rolling terribly, so we’re headed into the teeth of a long, harsh and brutal winter, where threats abound.
GM Planning: Session 9
To plan for Session 9, we have to ask two big questions: Will Stonetop’s supplies hold during the long winter? And while Stonetop holds out, what will our key threats do to make our heroes’ lives even more difficult?
First, let’s talk about Stonetop’s stores. We ended the Autumn harvest with 5 Surplus, and that store must suvive two 1d4+1 rolls — not great odds. Let’s see what unfolds:
Not great, but it could’ve been much worse. The village will need to produce at least one extra Surplus to hold out for Winter — and that’s assuming no Surplus gets spent on anything else. From the GM’s perspective, this is a good time to try to force some trade-offs — with food and supplies being tight, every expenditure will add additional risk.
The second question is how best to advance our threats. Our big three dangers are Owain, our hometown strongman, Brennan, the bandit-turned-Marshal in Marshedge, and Cirl, the Hillfolk sorcerer who seeks to bind a powerful spirit into himself and ascend to some sort of godhood. The obvious threat to foreground this winter is Owain — he’s on the homefront, and the PCs will be largely stuck at home during the winter as storms rage through the grasslands and hills that surround Stonetop. The party has shown up Owain a few times, and since they returned from their mission with the Hillfolk, they’re the talk of the town. He’ll be looking for ways to take them down a peg and reassert his authority over the village.
But the miss result means “threats abound,” so we’ll also have the hdour make his presence known — Brennan, like the PCs, is stuck in Marshedge for the winter, so we’ll keep it in the back of our minds that he’s gotten up to some mischief, but keep him in the background for the current session.
We kick off the session with a GM move from the list: Announce trouble (future or offscreen). We frame the scene that the party has been told by a friendly villager (we’ll use Olwyn, the herdswoman, who knows and trusts both Padrig and Anwen), that nomads have been spotted nearby. Padrig leads the party out to investigate, along with the two Hillfolk Companions, who may have special insight into the threat.
At the gaming table, after a long break, I like to open a session with some free roleplay to get the players back in the swing of things before getting to the meat of the session. To that end, I thought what better to have our crew talk about than the weather. I rolled on Stonetop’s handy, dandy Weather table:
Source: Stonetop // Jeremy Strandberg
I score a 6: Warm (for winter) and sunny — even though this winter is particularly harsh, we have a moment of calm. We’ll start the spotlight on the character who’s most grateful for this development: Vahid, who hails from the sunny southlands.
Scene 1: A rocky hollow, not too far from Stonetop
Padrig squints against the blinding white of the noonday sun, reflecting off the rolling fields of snow that blanket the fields and pastures of Stonetop. Today is warm, and the snow beneath Padrig’s feet is turning to slush under Helior’s rays.
“Finally, some respite from this accursed cold.” Padrig turns to see Vahid slogging heavily up the rise. “Hierotytos wrote in his great history that whenever the Despots of Lygos led their armies this far north, they were turned back by Lord Winter, a greater protector than any human warrior.” Vahid’s sky-blue robe is wrapped tightly about him, and his shoulders are draped with a heavy sheepskin.
Ozbeg, trailing behind him with Anwen and the Hillfolk comrades, Merid and Ronhl, chortles merrily. “I travelled with a Lygosi Despot’s host for a few seasons. At the end of each marching day, we spent three hours erecting a pavilion for his harem. I can still hear him calling from his tent to theirs.” His tone takes on a mocking falsetto. “‘Ay, me, Jasminda, I have a terrible thirst; bring forth mint tea and sweet wine. Ay, me, Cassiopeia, my feet ache from marching; bring forth fragrant oils and your tender graces to ease my pain.’ No surprise his forefathers could not stand a bit of cold.”
“What’s a harem?” Anwen asks brightly.
Ozbeg barks with laughter. “Ah, my Anwen. Many times blooded, but still a summer child. You see, when a very wealthy man grows tired of his wife…”
Padrig’s sharp, commander’s voice cuts off the old bandit. “Quiet now, Companions. We’re here.”
Olwyn, the herdswoman, awaits them in the hollow below, her face lined with worry. “Down here, chief! This is where I saw them.” Padrig nods, and looks back towards Stonetop. From the top of the rise, he can see the slopes of Stonetop’s hill. Tiny dark shapes roll down — children sledding on their fathers’ and mothers’ shields, exulting in a day of warmth after weeks of freezing dark. His eye follows the slope of the hill to the southern watchtower, which can barely be seen from here.
Padrig triggers Read the Land here and gets to ask a single question about the terrain without a role. He chooses Where’s the best spot for a trap or ambush? and learns that this location is a spot where scouts can see the village but not be seen by any of the village’s watchtowers. Troubling.
The hollow is sheltered on three sides, with a pair of scrubby, snow-caked trees clinging to the windblown ridgeline. Olywn stands above a hastily-broken campsite, marked by a few burnt branches, scattered bones, and melted patches in the snow. Pad descends into the hollow with Anwen and Vahid, as Ozbeg leads Merid and Ronhl to search for more signs of the interlopers.
“My thanks for leading us here, Olwyn. But don’t call me ‘chief.’”
Olwyn looks confused, and a bit hurt. “The others do.”
“They are the Companions — I’ve promised to look after them in battle and out, and they’ve promised to obey me. You wouldn’t call me ‘brother’ just because you heard my sister say it, eh?1 If anyone’s your chief, it’s Owain.”
Anwen spits. “He’s been insufferable this winter. Lording over the granary, putting his warriors first for extra rations. I’ll never call him chief.”
“That’s enough, Anwen. Strife is death in the winter,” Pad growls.
Anwen’s face twists in distaste, but she falls into a chastened silence. Pad turns his attention back to Olwyn. “Tell me again what you saw.”
Olwyn is wrapped in warm goat hide, and her face is a bit flushed from the warmth of the sun and the exertion of leading the party all this way. She shifts nervously from one foot to the other, her eyes darting to scan the horizon. “Yesterday I was out here looking for Wynifred, one of our milk goats. Too bold for her own good, she is. She wandered off from our winter pasture over yonder,” she says, gesturing vaguely westward. “Usually, she doesn’t get far, but this time, she’d been missing for better than a day, and it was still snowing. I was worried she’d lose an ear to the bite, or worse, a hoof, and we’d have to put her down.”
Padrig listens impassively, picking through the remnants of the campfire with a booted foot. He turns up blackened and burnt bones among the ashes — Olwyn sees as well, her eyes growing downcast.
“I came into the hollow from the south, and they were up on the rise, looking towards the village and whispering to one another.”
“Are you sure they were Hillfolk?” Vahid asks. He looks at Olwyn curiously, but she can’t bring herself to meet his strange, solid-blue eyes. “There are other wanderers in these lands.”
“I used to go with Cadoc to the Titan’s Bones to trade our herds with the nomads. I don’t speak their tongue, but I know it when I hear it.” She and Anwen share a sad look at the mention of Cadoc’s name2.
Padrig nods. “What happened next?”
“They spotted me and called out in their language. They didn’t seem to know the Stonetongue. They started coming closer to me, and I didn’t like the feel of it. I ran for the village.” Olwyn shudders.
“And they chased you?” The anger in Anwen’s tone bubbles up to the surface.
“Yes,” Olwyn nods vigorously. “They had horses tethered here, but they stayed on foot. They were fast, but I’ve roamed these hills since I was a little girl. I used to hide from my father in gulleys and burrows all over. I ran to one of them, and stayed there. They passed a few times, and then it was quiet. I waited and waited until I couldn’t wait anymore, and then I ran home.”
“And then you told Owain?” Anwen presses.
“Yes. He thanked me and said I’d been clever and brave to escape them. He said belike they were bandits and that he would drill the militia twice as hard this season, in case they came back in force. But when I told Cadwyn, he told Rhys, and Rhys told Blodwen, and then she came to me and told me to tell you,” she says, carefully nodding as she recounts the chain of gossip.
Padrig sighs sharply, and looks back up to the ridgeline, where Ozbeg and the Hillfolk are surveying the surroundings. He whistles and calls them down with a gesture, sending them scurrying down the slopes, sliding a bit on the mud and slush to regroup with Padrig and the rest of the party.
Pad is trying to learn what he can from what’s left behind by the nomad intruders. He already has advantage from Read the Land, and the Companions are aiding him with both their expertise as trackers but also their specific knowledge as Hillfolk, which allows Padrig to learn more than he would otherwise be able to — this ability is the less-used clause in the Aid move, which you can see here:
Source: Stonetop // Jeremy Strandberg
Padrig triggers Seek Insight with advantage: 3+6+1+2 Wisdom = 11, Strong Hit
So he gets to ask three questions about the situation from the Seek Insight list.
He asks:
What happened here recently?
What should I be on the lookout for?
Who or what is really in control here?
We’ll answer those questions in the fiction:
“It looks as though they were camped here five days. The camp’s seen at least two snowfalls, and it snowed last night and then again last Tor’s Day,” Pad says, looking to Ozbeg for confirmation, who nods firmly.
“Aye,” the old mountain man muses. “There are tracks up on the ridgeline, too, where they crawled up to watch the village, and they’re not fresh. Our guests made themselves at home.”3
Padrig grimaces. “Who knows how many other spots like this one there are around the village?”4
He regards the two Hillfolk riders and speaks in the Steptongue. “What do you make of it? Do these riders serve the hdour?”
Ronhl, the elder, scratches his beard thoughtfully. “I cannot say who they ride for. But they are certainly storm-folk. They are playing at the old ways — the ancestors of the storm-folk were great raiders and bandits and prized the art of the bloodless strike. To touch your enemy with your weapon without wounding him or to camp within the pale of his home without being seen are deeds of great bravery. And they serve to test your enemy’s readiness before a coming battle.”5
Padrig nods ruefully, and then looks to Merid, the younger of the Hillfolk pair. “Escort Olwyn back to the village, and then pass the word of what you heard here to the rest of the Companions.” Merid nods sturdily and whistles for his horse, who comes trotting to the top of the rise in a few moments. He leads Olwyn away as the party confers.
“Well and good that Owain’s drilling the militia, but that won’t help spot raiders as they approach the village,” Ozbeg mutters.
“Aye,” Padrig says.
“We’ll need proper patrols.” Ozbeg continues.
“Aye.”
“Someone will have to drill them,” Ozbeg says expectantly.
“Aye.”
“Owain’s not going to like that,” Anwen says with a bit of relish.
“Aye,” Padrig sighs. “We’ll have to speak with the elders.”
Setting the Scene: The Elders
We’ll play the next few beats in a quicker, more zoomed-out montage — Stonetop’s core rules generally encourage you to play at a faster pace on the homefront, and dive deeper into the details when the party is out on an important mission.
In order to mitigate the threat the hdour represents this season, the party wants to secure a Steading Advancement: Well-Trained Militia.
Source: Stonetop // Jeremy Strandberg
Specifically, we’re going for the Readiness upgrade. Padrig meets the requirement of a veteran warrior/tactician, able to command a crowd’s respect, so in order to secure this advancement, he only needs to find some willing villagers and use the Pull Together move. This will cost a supply, deepening the steading’s food-debt — but without it, the village is vulnerable to surprise attack. Padrig and the party agree to take the risk, and resolve to figure out the food issues once the village is better secured.
But Owain and his command of the village militia presents an issue. Padrig has already promised the Companions that he won’t put them under Owain’s orders, so he’s not going to Owain officially and making himself and his people part of the militia. Instead, he’ll start by seeking the backing of the village elders to train some patrollers.
The ideal person to persuade the elders is not Padrig, however, but Vahid. One of his recent level-ups unlocked the move Lets Make a Deal, which allows Weak Hits to be converted to Strong Hits, if Vahid offers something he knows the bargainer wants. The village elders’ motivations are well known to Vahid, thanks to his interactions with them as a scribe and historian, so he can appeal to their values and have an easier time persuading them.
On the next Aratis’ Day, the village gathers beneath the Pavilion of the Gods before the Lawkeeper’s Altar, adorned with black iron scales and an ancient, heavy hammer.
Garets calls the gathering to order with Aratis’ sacred invocation, reciting the laws of Stonetop. Vahid smiles to himself as he listens — in the civilized cities of the south, the reading of the laws might take hours, but here in Stonetop, they have only three: Never to steal, never to bear false witness, and never to commit the terrible crime of secret murder.
Vahid awaits his turn to speak to the elders and seek their counsel. When word spreads in the village that Vahid has business for the elders, the pavilion begins to fill with a great crowd. The strange foreigner with the glowing blue eyes and the burnt hand has become a local sensation, and though many fear him, their curiosity is stronger — at least for today.
After matters of livestock parentage and fieldstone disputes have been resolved, Garet calls Vahid forth. He self-consciously folds his burnt hand into his sky-blue robes, clears his throat, and begins his petition.
“Wise and honored elders, I come before you to warn of a growing danger. In my travels among the Hillfolk, with Anwen and Padrig, two brave children of Stonetop, by my side, I have learned of a sorcerer with designs on my noble hosts’ home and hearth.” As Vahid continues, he thinks of the debating salons of the Lycaeum in Lygos, far to the south, and imagines their cool marble floors under his feet as his confidence grows. “While Padrig and Anwen won the hearts of our Hillfolk neighbors and forged a new friendship with the nomads, I spoke with their spirit-talker, and she showed me visions of the unseen world. There, I saw a sorcerer who covets the magic of the Standing Stone, and seeks to take it for himself,” Vahid pauses, gesturing to the great obelisk of Tor that stands overshadowing the pavilion. A shiver of fear runs through the assembly, and Garet raises his hand for quiet.
Vahid continues, “I fear this sorcerer’s riders draw near. Olwyn showed us a campsite where they had lingered within sight of the village green and watched us from hiding. The militia keeps watch from the watchtowers, but our enemy is clever, and we must be ready. For this charge, I put forward my comrade Padrig. He is battle-wise and learned in the nomad’s ways. Among his Companions, he counts two Hillfolk who are ready to aid us against the sorcerer’s thralls…”
“Why does Padrig not speak for himself?” a hard, accusing voice interrupts Vahid, and the eyes of the crowd turn to the speaker: It is Owain. He is of an age with Padrig, past 40 winters, and his thick black hair and beard are spotted with grey. His barrel chest is girded by a breastplate of iron and he wears a Marcher’s longsword on his back. As Marshal, he alone is allowed to go armed in the pavilion. Though he speaks to Vahid, his angry eyes are fixed on Padrig.
Vahid turns to face him, drawing his hood back, his solid blue eyes shining in the shadowy light of the pavilion. “It was I who looked into our enemy’s eyes, and I who see the threat most clearly. I think the man who is best suited to confront that threat is Padrig.”
“Of course you do,” Owain spits back. “You are not rightwise Stonefolk— a wanderer and a bandit, so no surprise you are thick as thieves.” The warriors accompanying Owain make their support known, calling out and beating their fists against the thick timbers of the pavilion.
“I associate myself with folk of quality. There are many to be found here,” Vahid says, motioning to their supporters with a broad gesture, “and Padrig is one of them.” Rhys and his work gang call their support, and the herders join Anwen as she cheers Padrig’s name.
“Pah. We have no need of these outsiders and their meddling, elders. Olwyn spoke to me and I have taken the matter in hand. The militia is strong. Each of them skilled with spear and shield, ready to die for their homes. And each of my warrior’s circle is worth five in battle. Let this cheap conjurer come — we will defeat him, as my father Llewellyn defeated the last scum to threaten us.”
Vahid returns his attention to the elders. “Elder Pryce, elder Marged. I know you have seen the future I see. The Chronicle records twenty years of peace in our village, and fair summer must always give way to cruel winter. We must make ourselves ready for what is coming. Elder Garet, we are only just learning of Stonetop’s great history that was lost — we cannot let this sorcerer pillage it.”
And now he turns to Cerys, clad in wolf pelts and rattling antlers and bones. She regards him like an old owl peering at a chirping cricket. Vahid lowers his voice, pitching it only to her. “The village is afraid. That fear will drive the people apart. There are many who trust Padrig to put that fear to rest. Surely you can see that.” Cerys’ eyes narrow in appraisal, darting first to Padrig, and then to Owain, her son.
Vahid triggers Persuade: 6+5+1 Charisma = 12, Strong Hit.
He didn’t even need to use Let’s Make a Deal — Vahid’s pitch has convinced the elders to back Padrig, which will allow him to proceed, despite Owain’s objections.
Garet calls each elder to speak before rendering a judgement. Marged and Pryce voice full support, to the cheers of Padrig’s partisans, and Cerys declines to speak with a curt gesture. Garet bows his head, first to Vahid and then to Padrig, and gives the elders’ blessing to proceed. As they file out of the pavilion, Ozbeg mutters darkly: “There’s no chance that man will let this lie. Mark my words.”
Over the following weeks, Anwen aids Padrig in gathering together two dozen volunteers — they come from the hunter’s lodge, who’ve grown found of Pad and his Companions as they’ve plied the Great Wood together, and from the herders, who have grown hungry for glory on tales of Anwen’s heroics among the Hillfolk, along with Rhys and a few from his work gang, whose fields are a stone’s throw from the pasture where the nomads were spotted.
Padrig triggers Pull Together, aided by Anwen: 5+3+2+1 Population = 9, Weak Hit
The patrols and alarm procedures are established, but Padrig has to choose a cost from a list which you can see here with the full text of the move. We’ll choose “it gets done, but other work doesn’t; reduce fortunes by 1.” That brings Stonetop’s fortunes back down to +0, which seems appropriate given the overall morale of the village.
Now, with our GM hat on, we’ll respond on Owain’s behalf. We haven’t really looked at Owain as a threat yet — I think of him and his warrior’s circle as an Institution — here are the relevant threat moves:
Source: Jeremy Strandberg // Stonetop
We’ll use put someone in their place. Owain is pissed about being undermined, and he’s going to take it out on someone. He wants to goad Padrig into a confrontation, allowing him to respond with potentially lethal force.
Back to the action:
It doesn’t take long for Ozbeg’s prophecy to come to pass. On a cold, crisp morning, on the day of the militia drills, where nearly every able villager is called to train with spear and shield, the calm is split with cries of agony. There is a great tumult as Rhys is dragged from the practice field, his leg twisted and broken in a sparring match with one of Owain’s warriors. His friends bear him to Cerys’ healing hut as Owain and his cronies look on impassively. “Too many distractions,” Owain is heard to have remarked. “Didn’t have his mind on his spearplay.”
When the news reaches the party, Anwen seethes with anger. “No more,” she sputters. “Someone needs to stand up to him. I’m going to finish what I started last winter and beat him bloody in front of the whole godsdamned village.”
Padrig, as ever, counsels caution. “No. That’s what he wants; it will just lead to more and bloodier strife. Strife is death in the winter. And you swore to Cerys that you wouldn’t cross Owain again. Will you be foresworn?”
Anwen is following her instinct here — Defiance — and wants to take Owain down a peg. Owain’s bullying is one of her Anger is a Gift triggers, so she is properly furious about this.Padrig, on the other hand, is following his instinct of Caution, and thinks escalating here will not end well. We’ll use the PC vs. PC version of Persuade here, which you can reference all the way back in Session 2.1.
The party has been rolling strong today! Anwen doesn’t have to listen, but she gets a shiny XP if she does. XP aside, this is a tough one for Anwen: She trusts and respects Padrig, and he has a point — Owain didn’t personally injure Rhys, so Anwen going after him would be a significant escalation. On the other hand, she’s been furious about Owain’s bullying for years, and this is just another example of him getting away with whatever he wants.
We’ll end here and put Anwen’s decision in the hands of the readers! Does she heed Pad’s counsel and stay her hand? Or is now the time for retribution? Mash the vote button below to decide, and I’ll see you in your inbox next week with the results!
Padrig has a sister in the village, a fact that we should re-establish while we’re on the homefront, in case it becomes relevant. This was first established in his Session Zero, and again in Session 1.1, and not since then.
Cadoc died in Session 5.2, while saving Anwen from death at the talons of a storm drake. We first met him in Session 5.1, when he led Anwen to a storm-priests encampment.
This answers “What should I be on the lookout for?” Padrig is starting to realize that Stonetop’s defenses are full of holes, and the Hillfolk seem to know this as well.
This answers “Who or what is really in control here?” Padrig wants to know if it’s the hdour, but there’s not really an established way to know for sure. Ronhl can tell him, however, that these are storm-folk tactics, which points strongly towards the hdour, even if we’re not directly confirming it.
I’m sorry for your loss, while celebrating your success.
I’d forgotten this was restarting today - a very happy discovery!
I'm glad to see PTFO back, but sorry to hear of your loss. As we say in Ireland, I'm sorry for your trouble.