You begin your descent! The War Boat plunges from the horizontal waters of the Celestial River down into the Middle Air, becoming almost vertical atop Lorion's current, and yet somehow clinging on to the waters and maintaining its unfurled sails. The Deck Officer bellows over the howling winds for all rowers to hold back on the oars and for everyone to sing instead, to sing against the raging breath of Worlath's Hurricane that surrounds the Middle Air! And so you all sing. Yet the furious winds of Worlath are so strong that they begin to blow people off the ship, and ?Fraud must lunge to grab Shrett's ankles to save him as he slides across the deck.
The Boat Planet speeds onward atop huge cresting waves of Lorion that battle with the storm. The Song of the Sky Ship continues, and on deck the winds become calmer than they should be; more of a soothing breeze. Many aboard catch their breath with relief amidst their singing, the shock of the initial descent abating. The Middle Air surges past in a blur, but there is plenty of it to descend. A short time later, calls go out throughout the crew that another ship has been spotted. What other ship could withstand these terrible winds and waters? Its nature soon becomes visible: tacking across the surface of Lorion comes a large ship carved from strange deep green stone. It is a double-hulled catamaran, linked by a wide deck upon which there are shelters and huts. Constructions are made with great purple logs and enormous single pieces of bright blue cloth. Worlath's storm is caught by huge sails strung between V-shaped masts, propelling the vessel onwards at great speed. The two hulls have adjustable keels made of rune-carven violet wood, and are steered by a long rudder at the centre of the aft deck. The crew aboard this unfamiliar vessel are normal people in size and form, lightly attired in vests and skirts of the same blue cloth and some feathers, some sporting elaborate headdresses. They leap around their ship acrobatically without trouble. There are at most a dozen of them. You watch, curious and alert.
The foreign ship quickly closes in, gently drawing alongside the War Boat as its unusual crew laughs and waves greetings, showing no concern that they are far lesser in numbers than the War Boat's crew. Lines are tossed to rope the ships together. Several of the foreigners leap aboard, with the War Boat's crew welcoming them [they look sort of Aztec-like]. They exchange quiet greetings, brief songs and flowery gestures as if they are familiar, or at least know appropriate customs. Then the visitors wander the decks, laughing and looking curiously about, inspecting the ship and its passengers with some at least casual interest, and talking away to each other in an exotic tongue that often sounds like the call of seabirds as a complex language.
One of the people, who you learn are called the Sendereven but this is not familiar to you, comes to Fraud as he smiles back at him, and a crewman translates your discussion. The Sendereven offers to trade, for his valuable exotic feathers or for magic; he has a set of magic bronze wrist-cymbals, Harmony rune-carved, that contains foreign dancing magic. Even though this man is bargaining through an interpreter [He has demigod-like skills!], he argues (in a very good-humoured way) most robustly, and so he holds firm at wanting two magical items from you in trade for his one. He doesn't want weapons; these seem more peace-focussed folk although they are not all unarmed. Ahappi generously offers Fraud a Coordination spell anklet to add to the jade bracelet from Tibol-Korrin that Fraud agrees to trade. With a big laugh he departs with his new items. Fraud learns that the spell the cymbals contains is a Group Dance (theist spell) he can use once a week.
It isn't long before the odd visitors leap back onto their catamaran and push off, smiling and waving at the War Boat as they turn their sails and glide away nonchalantly. You eventually learn more about them; they are not just typical Eastern Islander sailors but rather heroic beings of status parallel to that of the Luathans of the West!: The Sendereven are not numerous. No more than two hundred individuals live, scattered among ten or twelve of their boats. Almost half their population can be found on their islands. Pregnant women must be on land to give birth to lucky children, where they are tended to by their families, and their guards. Otherwise, though, the Sendereven scorn any islands, especially those of the Inner World, so much so that they have never appeared there. Instead, their boats circumnavigate the outer oceans, plying these divine waters with trade and carrying demigod passengers. In the north, they dodge icebergs and skirt continental glaciers. In the south, they soar through mast-high flames in the Burning Sea. They rarely rest, but when they do they prefer the Dendulag Islands, which are a long string of islets at the outermost edge of the East Isles. The island called Old Dendulag was their original home, but one time they were given the choice as to whether they would sail forever in the treacherous oceans or have good lives on land only, always safe and abundant. They chose to sail, and their ancestor was so angry that he sank their home island to make sure they could never find peace. The Sendereven laughed at this ridiculous gesture and sailed away. They founded colonies on these outermost islands, where the proper rock grows which they use to make their boats. They trade with the Luathans to get the violet wood they need, too. So, wow!
Later during your precipitous descent down Lorion, you see that a group of jagged obsidian spars rotates in the distant hurricane winds, spinning gently in a complex three-dimensional array as it slowly glides along, seeming independent of the winds and waves. It perplexes everyone. Bog wonders if it is an Uz-place, and goes to ask Syrr Kogag, who says that it is not of Uz, but he thinks it is dragon-stuff; yet he does not have the insight to say what. As it passes, Ahappi contemplates its meaning, and grasps it. It is an ancient meditation on the nature of Reptiles, and their ancestry from Hykim, spawn of Wondrous Mother of Many. What does it mean to be scaly? The Right Action is to conclude it is to insulate from worldly attachment that leads to rash Wrong Actions. The Wrong Action is to conclude it gives strength to greedily consume enemies. Ahappi gains new insight into the ways of dragons and tries to explain this to Bog, who remains perplexed. Perhaps it is because Bog lacks scales. Yet.
A few crew notice a distant sight that speedily becomes more visible: there is a cluster of glowing blue things bobbing in the winds above the waves; it looks like they are ragged rocks of some considerable size, spread across an area of a few hundred metres in diameter. The Deck Officer barks commands to the crew to adjust course to ensure safety, but draws the War Boat nearer to inspect this curious event, urging prudence: “No doubt we have come upon pieces of the Goddess Annilla the Blue Moon, fallen from the Sky Realm in the Gods War, after which she called up Lorion to invade it. Mistress of the tides and secrets, of her remnants we should be cautious, but there may be opportunity for the bold.” Some of the shards pass over the Boat Planet, and a few heroes jump or fly onto them to inspect these mysterious pieces of one of Glorantha's most elusive divine beings. Everyone except Ahappi boards successfully; Ahappi is knocked back to the deck with an injury to his backside.
Immediately, each person landing on a blue rock feels an emanation around them, and they begin having their soul drained and wounds appear as dead flesh. It turns out that they are each enveloped by a Selene: an invisible Blue-Moon-Elemental, and Bog is the first to begin hitting the one on him. In time, you all defeat them. A blue mist then envelops you and they gain a one-use Conceal spell (cast w/Stealth, or Evocation); Bog opts to use his “Heroquest point” to cement this as reusable. Nice. You leap back aboard. The War Boat then sails past the remains of Annilla. Only a few questers are stranded behind… a terrible fate.
Some hours later, shouts of alarm surge across the War Boat as a huge form raises itself from the currents of Lorion. The form is confusing-there are eyestalks, there are great finned coils, there are tentacles, and then there is a great set of scaly jaws without a head, which soon lifts itself high above the deck as crew spring to action. But one person on deck recognizes it all too well. It is Pellinoresbane again! Ahappi speaks to the thing, and the crew, who prepare defences, ask what he knows of it. He explains well that they should not attack; that it is his wyrd and may help. He evokes his passions of the sea and strongly connects to his ancestral family monster through this. Pellinoresbane extends a giant eyestalk to hover over Ahappi and stares into his eyes and soul. It shows him a vision: it has followed the War Boat down from the Sky Realm, having stalked the Celestial River already before it in search of enemies, consuming one vessel of Godlearner questers there, and has found their trail leading down into Hell. Its course now parallels that of the Boat Planet, and it will be watching. Reflected in that great eye is a blazing flame in the dark, and it blinks, then bubbling black waters broken by the keel of a ship rising ominously from the depths are shown, then it closes its eye. It then retracts its eyestalk, then jaws, then body, then vanishes below the waves again. Ahappi knows that he has seen Firebergs awaiting the Boat Planet in Hell, called by the fated Godlearner enemies of the Waertagi again, and then he has seen the Hellships of his enemies the Vadeli there, too, and that he must stop them; this reminds him of visions he had when he last saw Pellinoresbane. He relates this information to the grateful crew; they welcome the aid of such a huge monster in Hell. Pellinoresbane also gifted Ahappi with some magical energy, impressed by his genuine devotion to the sea. Their connection seems to be deepening.
A distant glint amidst a pelting rainstorm in Worlath's Hurricane grows as a softly flickering light that dances off of a tumbling pyramidal grey stone, which it circles around. These two shapes are large; easily a hundred metres across; and the War Boat's crew navigates it closer to investigate. You wonder and figure it must be related to The Spike; the Mountain of Law of the Celestial Court back in the Golden Age.
Soon the light is recognized as a faint white star that orbits the grey pyramid, which is smooth on all four sides, bearing no carvings or other signs of workmanship. The Deck Officer announces, “These things are mysteries of the Godtime, caught in the winds since the Gods War. They have nothing to do with our quest but you may explore them if you wish; perhaps you will learn something of interest. We will cast lines so those who choose to explore can do so. Only one hero from each band, at most, as we need most to stay here singing and hold our position.” And so the crew carefully pilot the ship into the course of the hurtling stone and star, and throw grappling lines onto the stone with adhering magics to hold them fast, and a few questers make their way up the treacherously twisting ropes to see what this is all about.
Boamund is chosen to go. As questers land on the marble-like perfectly smooth stone, three things are noticed all at once. First, they feel a powerful magical pull into the stone, tugging at their souls. Second, there are smaller stones revolving around the large one; most around the size of a fist, and similarly smooth; some questers grab these. Third, the white star has begun pulsing with greater light that dances across the stone, throwing wild shadows. Next, magic from the white star takes effect: The strange star alters its form, becoming more identifiable. It is a large bush or tree made of this white light. Boamund's mind reels from the green-brown lump of Truestone he has palmed: it is potent Aldrya magic with six rune-spells of much value!
As this happens, the star-plant emits a weird, shrill humming tune that vibrates the skin of everyone including those on the War Boat. It then lashes out with luminous branches toward the stone, targeting the questers there. Panic spreads and the Deck Officer calls everyone to return with haste! Boamund deftly evades the lashing branch, rolling onto the rope to head back to the boat, which he does safely. The War Boat swiftly releases its lines and flies away, leaving a few blind, burning heroes stranded behind… the most horrible deaths you've seen yet. Fraud hides his eyes and is very disturbed, momentarily driven mad by visions of the screaming, burning trees that seek to return to the mortal world via their lost Singing Seed of Light. Bog thinks back to axe-chopping-songs he did in the Second Age. Miguel understood the general impression of the elf-song, that it was both angry at trespassers on its “earth” and speaking of its loneliness and yearning for the lost seed. Fraud, however, worries that those elves that left the Boat Planet early in the quest for the Flowers constellation might have been seeking that very seed and the return of the White Elves— eek!
Some time later, the War Boat sails toward another structure aloft in the violent winds. This thing is a piece of weathered land with a ruined stone tower sticking out of it amidst other battered remnants of habitation. The Deck Officer strolls about, saying “These lost pieces of Glorantha that we have met in Worlath's storm have already brought us dangers aplenty. It may be that another risk lies on that isle. Who dares to explore it?” You volunteer, and prepare to go down to the island via crew-cast magics. The War Boat sails over the island preparing for some volunteers to disembark, but then crew shout warnings-things are venturing forth from out of the tower's top toward the ship. They are translucent silvery pairs of hands joined at the wrists, each larger than a human, and jetting aloft by clapping their palms with thunderous noises. “Defend yourselves!” cry the crew. You wonder if these are Chaos-things, so strange they are. Later speculation is that they are some sort of Air-daimones from a bygone era.
They fly up to you in hordes, and each of you faces one. They stun most of you first with claps of thunder, then alternately try to clap you in both hands or smash you with one fist. But your skills quickly overwhelm them, knocking some down and beating the joined hands to ichor-spewing demises one by one. Once the combat ebbs, the Deck Officer roars orders to set sail away, “Enough, we have nothing to gain from lingering here and tussling with more threats from the Storm Tribe! The river Sramak and Gates of Dusk are not far off; we go!” And so the ship departs without exploring the bizarre flying isle.
Not far below, you can see the swirling waves of Sramak and a few islands-the Red Vadeli volcanic isles to the north, and the purplish mists and rocky seashores of Luathela to the south of them. But the Sky Ship comes upon another kind of current, quite suddenly: the twirling winds of Worlath bring gusts upon them that glitter with white silver lustre in their spirals, first clashing noisily off the green crests of quicksilver waters, then scraping against the superstructures of the War Boat itself. The ship bucks fiercely on the metallic waves (none of you are knocked prone), then a shriek of pain goes across the deck as one singer has their arm severed by a great gust of ul-metal, and everyone dives for cover or defends themself as best they can! You all do so successfully.
The Deck Officer is shouting orders, ignoring the winds as her body glows with defensive magics that the Ul-Metal Storm glances off with in showers of screaming sparks. “We ride a Metallic Elemental Storm! The blood of Storm and Sea gods from their bitter warring continues to fight! You'll have quite a tale to tell if you make it through alive!”, she laughs as she grabs a quester whose robes got caught on an Ul-Metal updraft and tears them back to the deck. As you watch from cover, some of you grab a handful of Ul-metal winds or improvise to scoop up some Sa-metal that flies or skitters across the deck.
The Boat Planet sails through the storm to calmer currents. You have passed through some of the stranger nether-regions of the edge of the world, where pieces of the Godtime and past Ages remain forgotten; it was very strange voyage and fraught with danger.
You reach Ssramak's Primal Ocean at last. The War Boat swiftly lands on horizontal waters again with a tremendous splash that showers the ship in sea-spray, and its course veers abruptly atop the counterclockwise currents of the world-river Sramak. As the winds of Worlath's Hurricane still fume, the sails continue to thrust the Ship onwards, and soon a harsh rocky edge of the land of Luathela is more visible to the west. Yelm is descending above you, bringing final warmth and light as night approaches. There is some excited commotion and surprise aboard the Boat Planet when the grim-faced Steersman, who has been silently and vigorously struggling with the tiller of the War Boat throughout its trip so far, steps away from the rudder, with some sort of sorcery holding it firm, speaks softly to some crew, embraces the giant Deck Officer warmly, salutes the Exalted Guest Waertag the Builder, and is helped onto a small dinghy that is lowered onto the waters. He hoists a sail when he lands, and disappears across the ocean toward the northeast. Word spreads that this was Dormal the Navigator, and there is much speculation why he left and what will happen now. The crew say when asked that they do not need a new Navigator; there is a plan. [GM: yes it would have been cool if Ahappi took the rudder but that would have split up your party so I didn't go for it; and his quest is different than steering]
As you sail toward Luathela, Waertag the Reaver emerges from the Forbidden Door and recites some information as he strolls the deck, eying up the remaining rowers and singers. “Won we have the right for the Boat Planet to return lawfully; we have rowed and sung across the River of Broken Laws in the golden realm of the Law-Loving Emperor. Nothing shall stop my War Boat from sailing again now. Even the Gods are with us. And so my quest changes as we return the War Boat to the Underworld. A ritual is demanded. Ye will must needs find a way to the Grey Shore of Luathela and face challenges there. For example, the Chasm of Experience yawns with the raw power of Death. Each hero must turn The Reel clockwise and defeat the foe it calls from the Sea. Then ye must needs coax the Luathans to allow ye through the Westgate, to have audience with Rausa. Ye must needs convince that daughter of Ehilm to allow ye to pass into the Underworld alive; or die. There be vast danger, but a chance for benefit. Only true heroes and Gods have passed this way and returned alive. One of ye must needs challenge the Luathans for a myth of “The War Boat Goes to Hell”, and win at any cost. Then ye will understand. The folk of the Purple Ship have different rules of hospitality; paranoid of humans and quick to anger. Wise would ye be to show caution and respect, seek peace, placate and entertain the people of Twilight, and they might reciprocate ye. Then find a way back to the War Boat, which will be passing through the Gates of Dusk-hurry! I will not wait for ye. We will then cross the Obsidian Mirror into Hell as night falls.” Ahappi explains the Lightbringers' Quest and Westfaring part of it, which seem woven into or inspiring this one. Arkati amongst you are curious and vigilant, but nothing seems truly wrong here in what Waertag is doing.
The Grey Shore of Luathela becomes ever clearer on the horizon, and the winds of Worlath's Hurricane reduce somewhat, as do Sramak's currents, but the Sky Ship sails on easily. Ahead there is a small storm of deep grey surging clouds and crackling electricity hanging over one side of that shore, and the crew calls out when they notice little forms emerging from it and heading toward you. They are people, riding on winds and lightning. Storm barbarians. The Deck Officer stomps around grumbling aloud, “Do not die, and do not kill these heroquesters, or off the ship I'll cast you. We are ritual challengers for each other. Take their heroquest challenges and do your best; mayhaps win a prize from them. Then a deal will be struck: you need their winds to carry to you and from the Lands of Dusk. Their winds will fill our sails onwards, easing our burden. And in return these Orlanthi may ride into Hell with us.” You prepare to face the incoming heroquester storm-barbarians.
The barbarians of Worlath fly in. There are several score of them, scattered across the length of the ship, coming in small groups of seven or so toward bands of pullers and watchers. The crew just watch them warily, at the ready. A group of the heroquesters approach your section of the deck and shout challenges down to those around you, who are all Westerners including some Arkati you've met. Their accents are strong but they speak intelligible Ralian dialects you can understand, and their leader, a blue woad-painted Worlath priest, says:
“Wandering strangers of the false diety,<BR>We can break you like brittle driftwood sticks on a knee,<BR>We can take your little ship from thee,<BR>We are dangers unlike any that you'll see.<BR>Seven heroes, seven gods are strong among us!<BR>Your talents and magics come from empty souls; we will show this!<BR>Orlanth will blow your spells away<BR>Heler's water is strongest, we say<BR>Chalana Arroy's peace holds sway<BR>Issaries will tie your tongue in knots<BR>Storm Bull's axe will chop your blocks<BR>Yinkin, keenest of eye and claw<BR>Lhankor Mhy masters the Law.”
You consider your reply. Ideally you'd give some meaning-laden poetry to present yourselves and choose your foes. Then they would explain the nature of these formal Heroquest Challenges. All of you could challenge 5 of them, or you could just forego a challenge(s) and offer a gift, or just try not to stand out for a challenge. The questers all look like fairly typical Orlanthi-except the Storm Bull, who remarkably is a Minotaur!!
-John
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