Last episode, the party split up to deal with the aftermath of a fight that ended in blood: Ronhl, one of the Sun-Spear Hillfolk who joined Padrig’s Companions had been drawn into a street fight with Royce and a group of Owain’s warriors, and the fight ended with Royce dead and Owain leading a search party for the fugitive nomad.
Padrig led his scouts to find Ronhl before Owain could find him and summarily execute him, escalating the feud between their factions, Anwen went in search of the truth of what happened that night, and Vahid went directly to speak with Garet to begin building the party’s case against Owain. Thanks to some very strong rolls, everyone held up their end of the plan, and things went as well as can be expected: Ronhl is alive and held under guard in the Companion’s Hall, and Anwen learned from Tall Talfryn that Owain explicitly instructed Royce to pick a deadly fight with the nomads. The Judge’s Day is looming, and Ronhl will have to stand trial for Royce’s killing. Anwen intends to accuse Owain of being ultimately responsible for Royce’s death, and of being an oathbreaker besides.
When that accusation is leveled, an important question is how Cerys will respond — as an elder, she has considerable sway and could dismiss Anwen’s accusation as heresay or even use her magical hold on Padrig1 against them. Back in Session 9.2, I used the Ironsworn Yes/No oracle to determine whether Cerys could be trusted on this matter, and this session we’ll reveal that result at the moment of truth!
We ended with a poll to decide Padrig’s level 5 advancement. It was a big session for him — he made a promise to Cerys to abjure a position of authority over Stonetop’s militia, and threw his weight instead behind Anwen, promising to teach and support her through the challenges ahead. Let’s see what you chose for our our marshal-turned-mentor:
A very slender plurality for Veteran Crew. This, along with the change in their Instinct (which we covered in last session’s wrap-up) really crystallizes a part of the Companions’ transformation into a crew of their own, fully separated from the Claws. It’s not to say that things are perfect — if things sour between the Companions and the village, Ozbeg and the lads will no doubt start looking for an exit, but for now, Stonetop has some new protectors.
Now, we’ll rejoin the action. The next thing that would likely happen is that the PCs would get together, pool information, and plan their next move. At the table, this would probably happen in the half-IC, half-OOC loose play that often emerges between big scenes. Since we’re looking to keep things moving, we’re going to skip that — it’d likely involve a lot of recapping of stuff that regular readers already know — and go directly to the Judge’s Day. We can assume that Anwen, Vahid and Padrig have discussed what will happen here, and they are each playing their part of the plan to the best of their ability.
Without further ado, let’s get into it:
Scene 10: The Pavilion of the Gods, on the Judge’s Day
The Pavilion of the Gods is the largest building in Stonetop: Over a hundred folk can fit there, packed shoulder to shoulder, but today, it is overflowing, villagers spilling out of the entryways and into the village green, standing on tiptoes for a glimpse of the solemn proceedings, despite the cold, soaking rain that has been falling for days.
The elders are seated on a long, heavy oaken bench, its edges and fine, whorled carvings smoothed by a century of use: Marged, hands weathered from a life of splitting stone, Pryce, looking deflated and worried after a long and hungry winter, Cerys, whose face betrays nothing, and Garet, the Judge of Aratis, who today holds the iron scales and hammer of his office.2
Owain stands near the center of the pavilion, facing the elders and the three sacred altars of the gods of Stonetop. He is opposite Padrig, who waits at the front of the crowd, holding the tether to Ronhl’s bound hands as Ozbeg and Donal stand guard over him. The marshal of Stonetop assiduously avoids Padrig’s eye as he makes his case to the elders.
“The hillmen believed they were entitled to more, thanks to their friendship with Padrig and his bandits. We all thank Pad for his part in Hywel’s great hunt, but even he would agree that does not entitle his ‘Companions’ to a greater share of the commonweal. I regret that I did not stop it sooner — but I made a promise not to bring strife to Padrig’s door, so I let it rest. Last night, it went too far. Royce was only doing his duty, and the Hillman did what savages do. They do not understand our ways or the bonds and traditions that tie us together.”
The crowd's murmur rises — sounds of agreement and discord. Owain nods to his supporters and continues. “Elder Marged, Elder Cerys,” he bows his head to his stone-faced mother. “when you sat in council and considered Padrig's request to remain in the village, you rightly feared that allowing these cutthroats -- however they might regret their past -- into our midst has put us in danger, and now we have lost one of our best. I ask that the diethryn Ronhl's life be forfeit and the rest of the Companions be driven to exile. I take no joy in it, for I have sworn to bury my strife with Padrig, but justice demands this.”
Anwen’s anger has been building as Owain speaks, and now it boils over. She steps forward, breaking away from Pad and the Companions and stepping onto the speaking floor, her voice carrying over the low murmur of the crowd. “You’re a liar, Owain, son of Llewellyn. How can you stand there and speak of justice and your oath without shame?”
Owain’s hand drops to the hilt of his sword — he is the only warrior permitted to go armed in the pavilion — but Garet’s voice cuts through the rising tumult of the crowd to reproach her. “Anwen! You have not been called before the scales to speak! You cannot call on the law while you stand in contempt of its court. Restrain yourself.”
Anwen takes another step forward in the silence of the assembly’s bated breath, ready to press her case, but Padrig restrains her with a quiet word and a hand on her shoulder, and she returns to her place with a contrite nod. Cerys’ eyes are fixed on this interaction, narrowing in a careful assessment of the pair. Sitting at Garet’s right hand to record the proceedings in the village chronicle, Vahid marks her carefully.
Garet now turns to Padrig, his face grave, showing no favor. “Padrig, Owain has spoken the truth — you swore your men would cause no strife, and now one of our neighbors is dead. What has he to say? What have you?”
“Ronhl does not speak our tongue, so I will speak for the both of us. He has never taken more than his fair share from the larder, nor have any who call themselves Companions. He did not know why he was set upon. Confused and afraid, he drew his weapon, hoping to ward off his attackers and escape, but Royce would not relent. When blades are bared, the Lady of Crows takes who she pleases.”
Owain snarls. “It never would’ve happened if your men hadn’t been throwing their weight around, taking from the commonweal, Padrig.” The assembly’s voice rises again — Owain’s supporters stamp their feet and shout their support, but their voices are met by the herdsfolk, the hunter’s lodge, and others who remember what the Companions have done for the village.
“You have had your say, Owain. Fall silent now, and let others speak,” Garet admonishes, raising his hands for quiet from the crowd. Owain simmers with resentment but obeys, casting a sidelong glance at his mother.
Garet then calls Royce’s widow forward, a pale, dark-haired woman of thirty winters named Heledd. She comes surrounded by her two young daughters, and her face isn’t sad but rather determined. She speaks in cool tones of Royce as a provider, meeting neither Owain nor Padrig’s gaze. The elders each give her their condolences, and when Cerys’ turn to speak comes, she promises her family will be looked after and that justice will be done, with a pointed look at Pad.
Anwen lays her accusation before the elders.
“This is a grave matter — Royce’s death cannot go unanswered. Before the elders deliver our judgment, who else would speak on this matter?”
Anwen snaps forward like a bowstring released. The mutterers and hecklers fall silent as she calls out in a clear, angry voice. “Elders, Owain is a coward and an oathbreaker,” she says. She meets Cerys’ gaze and speaks directly to her now. “After swearing to bury his strife with Padrig, he ordered Royce to find reason to set upon Ronhl and Merid, to kill them if he could. With the dead man as his weapon, Owain sought to commit secret murder and broke his oath before his kith and kin, and I so accuse him!”
Vahid is carefully watching Owain as the accusation is delivered — he is taken aback, his eyes darting back and forth, calculating and planning. Meanwhile, the Pavilion of the Gods erupts with cries of accusation and outrage. Many in the village have grown resentful of Owain’s domineering, swaggering manner, and now that resentment is unleashed. Where Anwen’s supporters and Owain’s meet, lines begin to form, with fists clenched and folk spitting fighting words. Garet bellows to restore order, but his old voice strains to be heard over the din until Pad’s stentorian tone rises and calls for silence.
When order is restored, all eyes fall upon Cerys, Owain’s patron, and matriarch. The other elders wait on her words. As still as a graven statue, she pays them no mind, all her attention on Anwen. “How could you know this, Anwen?” she asks quietly.
Anwen raises her chin defiantly. “A villager overheard them plotting in secret and told me. He has no reason to lie.”
Owain sneers at this. “But you have every reason to. You have always been a bull-headed brat of a girl, Anwen, but now you’ve gone too far.” He turns now to address the Garet and the elders. “This is nothing but slander. I have not committed secret murder — though if I had been there, I would’ve gladly slain the diethryn to save my friend’s life.”
He concludes with a forceful look at Cerys. “Put her in her place, or I will.”
Cerys meets his gaze unflinchingly. “What matters is the truth of Anwen’s claim.”
Vahid clears his throat in the silence and speaks quietly to the elders. “If that is the case, then Stonetop’s law, set down in the chronicle, is clear: Each of them must stake their lives upon their words and meet on the field of honor.”
Garet looks to the other elders. “What say you, wise ones?” Again, they defer to Cerys in this matter which cuts her family’s honor to the quick. In turn, she gazes once more at Anwen. “I would know who spoke to you, Anwen.”
She shuts her eyes tightly, summoning her resolve, and turns to the assembly. Talfryn is easy to spot, standing head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd, and their eyes meet briefly before she looks away and speaks to the pavilion at large. “Come forward, friend. We’ll stand together.”
From the corner of her eye, she sees Talfryn push forward, and her heart leaps. The crowd parts before him until he and Anwen stand shoulder to shoulder. “It was I, Elder Cerys. On my word, Anwen speaks the truth. I overheard them.”
Owain hisses, his hand on his sword hilt once again. “Liar. Traitor. I’ll have your head for this.”
Anwen fires back. “You sent another man to do your bloody work, you gutless coward. I won’t do the same: I accused you, and it’s me you’ll face. Elders, it’s my right!”
Owain’s fist clenches around his sword, and he bares half the blade before Cerys’ cold, even voice stops him short. “Accept exile, Owain. Even if you are victorious, you have stained your father’s name.”
Owain recoils as though struck. He shakes his head in denial and disbelief. “No. They are slanderers, and I’ll prove it. I’ll kill her — kill them both!”
Cerys bats this away contemptuously, her bangles of antler and horn rattling at her wrist. “Let justice be done, Garet.”
The other elders gravely voice their support, and Garet pronounces their judgment: “Anwen, Owain, you will defend your words with your lives. As the accused, Owain will choose the ground and Anwen the time.”
“Dawn tomorrow,” Anwen says without hesitation.
“The bluff,” Owain growls.
“This is the Lawkeeper’s judgment: Renounce your words and accept exile, or meet on this chosen ground and end this strife for good and all. So must it be.”
In unison, the village responds: “So must it be.”
Scene Breakdown
This scene was mostly pure roleplay, with only a few moves triggered. Here’s how it went down:
First, when Owain accuses the Companions of taking unjustly from the commons and paints a picture of Ronhl as a greedy savage, Anwen triggers Anger is a Gift, holding 2 Resolve. We’ve largely used that move for combat, but it has some applications in more social scenes like this one3.
Next, Anwen makes her accusation, spending one of her resolve to ensure she speaks first, before any of Owain’s cronies can step in, and Vahid follows up by putting a sharp point on the law. This exchange was driven a bit by mechanics — there’s a better chance for a good outcome if Vahid makes the roll with Anwen’s aid (Vahid has +1 Charisma, Anwen has +0). So, Vahid tries to persuade the Elders — particularly Cerys — to cleave to Stonetop’s law and allow a duel to settle this conflicting testimony.
The other elders are deferring to Cerys — ‘conflict of interest’ isn’t really a thing in Stonetop. Since this matter touches closely on her family's honor, she expected to speak first and most forcefully. So now, her trustworthiness comes into play. When I queried the Oracle with the question: “Does the law and tradition of Stonetop matter more to Cerys than her son’s life and position?” its answer was Yes.
Truth be told, I was pretty relieved at this answer. Not that it wouldn’t have been fun to escalate this conflict to include a vengeful witch-of-the-woods who has her mystical hooks in Padrig already, but I found myself agreeing with reader Nathan C., who commented thusly:
“…for the sake of Anwen's bildungsroman, I would very much prefer to find that Cerys can be trusted. Anwen is quite a likable character, but emotionally she still comes off as pretty adolescent. To mature, she needs to learn that other people aren't necessarily evil just because they disagree with her - even if they're wrong about something important - and that not all conflicts can or should be powered through via a combination of self-righteous anger and the moral clarity of youth. To put it simply, Anwen needs the experience of having been wrong.”
Anwen didn’t believe Cerys would ever go against Owain, and now it seems she was wrong. As such, Vahid is able to trigger Persuade, with Anwen’s aid:
Vahid triggered Persuade: 5+3+2+1 Charisma = 9, Weak Hit
Cerys is not blind — she’s probably known for a long time that Owain leaves a lot to be desired as marshal, but he can be controlled, and he may have been the best candidate available at the time. If she’s going to cast him aside she wants to be sure — and she wants the whole village to be sure. So she has a condition: Anwen’s source must come forward.
Instead of rolling, Anwen spends her last Resolve to inspire allies or bystanders to follow your lead, and Talfryn swallows his fear and steps forward. Her condition satisfied, Cerys withdraws her support from Owain, and allows the challenge to proceed. Back to the action, at dawn tomorrow:
Scene 11: The village bluff, at dawn
When the sun rises, it chases away the dark clouds that have shrouded Stonetop for days, and it seems spring is finally coming4. The sky above the Great Wood is painted with strokes of thin white clouds moving fast overhead. The cold breeze whips Anwen’s copper hair into her eyes, and she brushes it back with irritation under her borrowed half-helm.
She has been waiting since the dark hours before dawn, Vahid, Padrig, and Ozbeg by her side, all three talking quietly about the coming fight. “He will try to press you to the edge, no doubt about it. Give too much ground, and he’ll have you,” Pad says, nodding to the bluff.
“Aye, and he’ll press you hard,” Ozbeg continues. “He fights like a bully, giving nary an opening or a moment to breathe. You’ve got the iron, girl; just don’t underestimate him. A duel like this is all he trains for.”
Anwen holds up her hand for quiet and nods across the field. There, Owain approaches with Andras at his side, carrying his Llewellyn’s sword, still in its oiled leather sheath. He is armored in bronze lamellar, newly polished, with a broad oak shield strapped to his left arm and a full helm tucked under his right. His cruel eyes are narrow and eager as he takes in Anwen before he lowers the helm onto his head, and his sword hand clenches and unclenches in anticipation.
The town has turned out again in the hundreds, forming a half-circle at the bluff. Owain’s crew stands at the front, their shields held before them, their faces impassive and expressionless. The herdsfolk who’ve taken Anwen as one of their own crowd to the front also, their eyes on their champion, worried but full of resolve5. The throng parts to allow Garet and the other elders to the front. Cerys stands alongside the Judge, her hand resting firmly on the shoulder of Owain's young son. He is a tow-headed boy of perhaps twelve years, poorly hiding his fear and uncertainty beneath a mask of youthful bravery.
Anwen looks at the boy’s face, and her heart sinks into cold fear. She thinks of how, if she is victorious, he and every person in the village will look to her for protection. Padrig, at her side, puts a steadying hand on her shoulder. “We’re with you, Anwen. To whatever end,” he says softly. In silent reply, she puts her hand on his and nods in thanks.
She steps away from her friends and towards the center of the circle. Like Owain, she is geared for battle, clad in iron scale6, her milky-white makerglass battleaxe slung over her shoulder. Behind her, Ozbeg hoists a banner pole, hung with Anwen's patched grey cloak and topped with a massive cave bear skull, bleached white and split down the middle. He grins fiercely at Andras, who quickly looks away and offers Owain his sword.
There is a ring of steel against leather as Owain draws his father’s blade and holds it high — polished steel and a bronze crossguard, an old and storied weapon. He lowers the tip and points it at Anwen. “Last chance, girl. Recant your slander, and go into exile with your friends. You never belonged here.”
“It’s you who doesn’t deserve to be here, Owain. You’re an oathbreaker and a coward; before the gods, I’ll prove it!”
Owain's face twists in rage. The crowd gasps in shock as he bellows and charges, swiftly closing the gap between him and Anwen and raining blows down upon her as the duel begins. Anwen parries with the haft of her battle axe, each strike raising a cry from the crowd and a shower of blue-white sparks from the ancient makerglass.
Anwen refuses to give way, pressing back against him with each deflected blow and sidestepping to put the bluff at Owain’s back before giving ground towards the circle of townsfolk, watching with rapt anticipation. She leads him on a chase over the killing field, carefully guarding her reserves while Owain spends his freely, seeking any opening in her defenses. He bellows in anger and frustration as every cut and thrust is turned aside by Anwen’s axe or nimbly dodged, striking only air.
Soon, Owain’s blows begin to land more slowly, and Anwen picks her moment and surges onto the attack, her axe scything downwards in a swift and killing blow across Owain’s body. At the last moment, he raises his shield, and the ancient blade sunders it to kindling. He casts the broken shield aside and presses forward, slamming into Anwen, pushing her back towards the bluff, and driving the bronze pommel of his sword into her face, sending her reeling.
Her vision goes red, and she screams a battle cry as she pushes Owain back with the haft of her axe and rushes forward. She sweeps her axe up from beneath his guard as he meets her charge with his blade. Anwen hears the shriek of Owain’s blade slicing at her scale mail and feels a rush of hot blood at her side, but she also feels her axe bite deep, the honed makerglass blade tearing through his bronze harness and meeting flesh and bone.
The two bloodied fighters part, each clutching their wounds. Blood seeps out from under Anwen’s hand, pressed against her ruined armor, and she can feel the cold wind stealing the heat from her body. Owain doesn’t look much better; His face is pale, and his armor is wet and shining red at the belly. He goes down to one knee, but his sword is still held high, its tip pointed at his opponent. He kneels with his back to the bluff, framed by a vast expanse of blue sky. Anwen meets his eyes, shadowed by his full helm, and for the first time, they look uncertain and afraid.
Anwen’s Decision
We’ll end the episode here. The law of Stonetop says this duel can end one of two ways: Death or exile. At this lull in the action, Anwen could be merciful, and offer Owain a chance to yield, accepting exile from the village.
Now, there are very good reasons not to do this. We don’t know where Owain will go or what he will do — he could head straight to one of the village’s enemies and plot revenge. He could vanish in shame. Or he could refuse, and fight on to the bitter end. But we know in the past7, Anwen has hesitated to kill when she has other options available to her, a quality that can be both admirable, but also a bit naive. The question is: What does she do now, with the whole village watching?
Before you decide, it might be useful to know where exactly Anwen stands during this duel, as both she and Owain have taken some nasty hits. To that end, I’ll break this complex scene down in some detail — if you’re already confident in your decision, feel free to skip to the button below and make your choice!
Scene Breakdown: The Duel
This scene has a similar challenge to Anwen’s duel in Session 7.3: If Anwen rolls well on a few Clash rolls, she’ll make mincemeat of any non-supernatural human opponent, so Owain needs a few tricks to short-circuit Anwen’s ability to easily trigger Clash rolls, meaning she has to use other tools to get fictional positioning to strike. Here’s what I ginned up for Owain using the Dungeon World Monster Generator:
He can deal a lot of damage (1d10+1, piercing 1 armor with advantage), and his M.O. in combat is to push his opponent around8, not giving them a chance to strike back, which will help spread out the Clash moves a bit and add some drama to was likely to be a short, brutal fight.
The very first move of the scene was a bit of an oddball one. I wanted to bring Anwen’s new fear9 — what she must do — into play. She’s confronted by the reality that she has to put Owain in the ground, and even though he is an asshole, he’s still somebody’s dad, husband, etc. On top of that, if he’s dead, then she’s fully responsible for the village’s safety. You break it, you buy it, after all. Rather than let her roll to steel herself, Padrig opts to spend a crew loyalty (he banked one when he won them a place in Stonetop, and another when he put his own life on the line for Ronhl). Anwen is technically a member of the Companions, and spending crew loyalty allows the crew to overcome their fear and do what you tell them to (among other things), so it seemed appropriate.
Next, we triggered Anger is a Gift — when Owain suggests that Anwen go into exile and that she never belonged in Stonetop, she gets heated, and holds 2 Resolve. Then Owain begins the fight with his first move, Overwhelm an opponent with relentless attacks. This is a bit of high-handed GM play — Anwen might try to spend a Resolve to act suddenly, catching them off-guard, but Owain has already done exactly that (maybe Owain is himself a failed Would-Be Hero?), so I ruled that the best she can do is attack simultaneouly and take some damage before getting to trigger Clash. Instead, she opts to go on the defensive:
She holds 3 Readiness. Anwen’s battle plan is to play rope-a-dope — Ozbeg has coached her that Owain will come on strong, so she intends to fight defensively to wear him out. We represent this by spending one of her Readiness (using the option draw all attention from your ward to you — in this case, Anwen doesn’t have a ward, but we represent it fictionally as her drawing him in and preventing him from reconsidering his aggressive strategy. Then with that positioning established, Anwen triggers Defy Danger — if she’s successful, she tires him out and can retake the initiative. On this move, she gets advantage, because Pad used Read the Land to forewarn her not to allow herself to be pressed to the bluff’s edge.
She successfully avoids his flurry of attacks while tiring him out. She then goes on the offensive (sadly forfeiting all her Readiness, which she didn’t end up needing to mitigate damage):
Anwen triggered Clash: 4+1+2 Strength = 7, Weak Hit
They each deal their damage, but the exchange doesn’t go Anwen’s way. She deals 1 damage — barely scratching Owain’s HP pool. Since the axe is tagged messy, I opted to shatter Owain’s shield as a bit of a consolation prize, reducing his armor by 1 for future attacks. Meanwhile, Owain maxes out his damage, dealing 10. Anwen uses I Get Knocked Down to halve the damage, and as a cost, she chooses to lose her footing, but immediately spends one of her banked Resolve to keep your footing, position and/or course despite what befalls you. The next exchange begins with Owain at 11 HP and Anwen at 10.
She spends her last Resolve to act suddenly, catching them off-guard, thus retaining the initiative and preventing Owain from using any of his dirty tricks. She has advantage to hit Owain back, thanks to But I Get Up Again.
Anwen is rolling a ton of damage dice here: 1d8 for her base, +1d4 for Payback, +1d4 more for But I Get Up Again. She deals a meaty 10 damage this time, but Owain answers back by maxing damage again(!), dealing 10 in return — enough to put Anwen at zero. Anwen again triggers I Get Knocked Down to halve the damage, and chooses something on your person breaks — this is a bit of PC cleverness, since she’s only established to be carrying a two things — her axe and her armor, and her axe is established to be unbreakable, so we envision that her armor has been damaged enough as to be no longer functional.
Anwen is left with 5 HP. Owain is down to 1. Anwen has a chance to offer quarter, or to move decisively to end the fight. What will she do? Mash the vote button below, and we’ll play to find out next week!
The party left Marshedge with two suits of iron scale mail, which they had used as part of their guardsmen disguises during Padrig’s rescue. Seemed like a good time to break them out.
Great write up and a good point about Cerys made by Nathan C. For the sale of the narrative, I was also hoping the same about her.
As satisfying and realpolitik it would be to execute Owain, I feel Anwen just wouldn't go for it, especially after seeing his son in the crowd. Kill Owain and she has a future enemy. Catch the boy's eye while offering Owain exile and the boy will be grateful. Of course, if Owain tries to run Anwen through he's only go himself to blame...
Finally caught up! What an amazing journey this blog has been so far, and I am amazed at what an engrossing piece of fiction you created (I have paid far more for books I have enjoyed far less). Also the prospect of seeing a Wuxia-style playthrough at some far point on the horizon has me very excited. I have been devouring this book/blog for the past few days, and it's been sufficiently inspiring to make me finally try my hand at a solo Ironsworn playthrough during the holiday-time ttrpg drought.
Tough poll choice there. The varying possibilities of an Owain that survives, exiled, are enticing. Would he return as a villain? Or redeemed? Additionally, the trope of a villain that survives due to the Hero's naivete to come bite back later feels like the right turning point from Anwen as "would-be-hero" to Anwen as the "hero" of this cold iron (bronze?) age. Killing someone in an honor-duel, however much of a terrible person they are, feels like a bit of a cold-blooded step up from the life and death duels Anwen had before, which were already a moral struggle.
Yet her anger at his actions, grappling with her new fear (killing Owain *is* what must be done, after all, as she steps into her role as a Marshal), her recent life-ending experiences; that might be enough for her to steel her determination.
Great write up and a good point about Cerys made by Nathan C. For the sale of the narrative, I was also hoping the same about her.
As satisfying and realpolitik it would be to execute Owain, I feel Anwen just wouldn't go for it, especially after seeing his son in the crowd. Kill Owain and she has a future enemy. Catch the boy's eye while offering Owain exile and the boy will be grateful. Of course, if Owain tries to run Anwen through he's only go himself to blame...
Finally caught up! What an amazing journey this blog has been so far, and I am amazed at what an engrossing piece of fiction you created (I have paid far more for books I have enjoyed far less). Also the prospect of seeing a Wuxia-style playthrough at some far point on the horizon has me very excited. I have been devouring this book/blog for the past few days, and it's been sufficiently inspiring to make me finally try my hand at a solo Ironsworn playthrough during the holiday-time ttrpg drought.
Tough poll choice there. The varying possibilities of an Owain that survives, exiled, are enticing. Would he return as a villain? Or redeemed? Additionally, the trope of a villain that survives due to the Hero's naivete to come bite back later feels like the right turning point from Anwen as "would-be-hero" to Anwen as the "hero" of this cold iron (bronze?) age. Killing someone in an honor-duel, however much of a terrible person they are, feels like a bit of a cold-blooded step up from the life and death duels Anwen had before, which were already a moral struggle.
Yet her anger at his actions, grappling with her new fear (killing Owain *is* what must be done, after all, as she steps into her role as a Marshal), her recent life-ending experiences; that might be enough for her to steel her determination.