RPG Campaigns

Giraine Summaries

You train a lot; through the whole year. Meanwhile, the world turns.

It is indeed a harsh Storm Season; prior portents were correct. The weather becomes more violent, with terrible snow-thunderstorms; the “Walind-Storms”. It rains almost all the time, the lands flood frequently, and the sun is seldom glimpsed. The seas become almost unnavigable, with horrendous storms and unpredictable currents, and monsters aplenty. Many say that this is the price of the Boat Planet’s return. Only the greatest sailors would dare to leave sight of the coasts, even though the seas supposedly are open. However, this weather calms more in the final week of the season, and everyone is thankful. Even Bog.

There is a hue and a cry one day in Aria’s Well. Fraud hears about it first; none of you are there. “A monster is coming! Flee for your lives!” Guards gather together, armed and ready, spells cast, when they hear and see it coming, slowly sloshing through the Little Gunge. And the guards relax. It is the magisaur Wlghrrrrsss, whom they’ve heard of, fortunately, or they’d indeed have thought it to be a deadly monster.

It does a quick nod, says nothing, plods into town to much consternation and wonder, and goes to a stream on the eastern side. It ignores everything. It gathers some reeds and stones and mud into a mound, then squats down, chanting in Boatspeech, then paces around the area doing a clumsy dance, then goes back to the mound and urinates on it. It then quietly watches or waits, then settles down near the mound. The new Talar comes and talks with it, getting the response “Blessed be this shrine to the river god. This will work.” And some more vague discussion, but not more insight into what it’s up to.

Lars Windchare the scholar return s to Aria’s Well with Riftoyz the great troll that week, too, seeking you. He then finds Fraud first. He has spent many seasons in the wilderness and wandering the coasts near Giraine, with many fine discoveries. He now will commit himself to writing his findings in St Thosos. Riftoyz will see what new opportunities there are for trade, now that the port is safer. Lars probably is hungry for real human discussion after some time in the wilds, and prattles on with Fraud about various things. But then one topic in particular: “Snakes! Snakes on this island! Remarkable! And the varieties have differences from those upon the mainland. I posit that they have diverged during their centuries of isolation. Probably through some process imbued by the land… “magical selection” if you will. I shall put this into my writings.” Fraud describes his encounter with Seshna Gira and her awakening, that this likely explains the snakes. Lars gradually gets more interested, especially in the more mythically resonant issues; not enjoying any tales of adventure; and responds that perhaps the “magical selection” he has conceived is guided by a force such as Seshna; an “intelligent designer” if you will. But will other scholars believe him? Only history will know.

Fraud has sent a Linguaberry message to Ahappi- (after vigorous debate with the party; especially Boamund) “We’re going to Handra, will let you know if anything of interest comes up.”

SACRED TIME Omens for 1625 are mixed. Ceremonies give strange signs, very different from last year, which in retrospect gave hints of the Boat Planet’s coming. There are signs of war of course (the Death and Disorder runes a recurring theme), and other dangers. There will be more difficult times. There are obscure signs, for those amongst you with the right awareness, of runes of Beast, and Darkness, and Water, and Dragon, and Movement, and more. And Chaos. Many, frightening visions of Chaos in the new year. Auguries for further information give further ambiguous results.

But one thing becomes clear to two of you: a child has been born by Seshna Gira, and another by Quick Sister. Fraud and Shrett are unaware of their gender, name, or other nature, but they know, and they know they are not invited to see it. Seshna Gira communicates little otherwise, but Fraud can tell she is awake and aware. Quick Sister is unresponsive.

Everyone, however, has a powerful experience as Sacred Time comes to a close. As rituals and prayers continue, and Time passes in a blur, each of you has a separate experience. In it, you see yourselves from a distance, as part of the ceremonies. Surprised, you watch, and your second selves draw nearer and nearer. Soon, they join close to you, synchronizing their actions with yours. Then they are gone, and you realise that you are one and the same. This year you took part in a major heroquest that changed Glorantha forever. This event has tied you to the vast web of heroquesters taking part in the Hero Wars. You have awakened the Hero Soul that had been growing inside you for years. This Hero Soul acts in several ways. In game terms, it represents you as the core Runes that you embody as a hero. You may now take 3 runic powers: one at 75%, one at 50%, and one at 25%. These can be increased ONLY through improvement rolls during heroquesting; or other results of heroquesting or similar powerful magics, places and events. Not through normal improvement rolls. 95% is the maximum you may attain. You can never have more than 3 runic powers, but they can be changed; even swapped entirely. These are not new integrated runes, but they are closely tied to them.

You assign your runic power levels from these PC-specific integrated runes:

Ahappi = Water, Death, Darkness
Bog = Darkness, Disorder, Death
Fraud = Darkness, Metal, Life
Boamund = Fire, Man, Metal
Shrett = Illusion, Movement, Law

These runes can be, or automatically are, invoked on Heroquests (capital “H”, i.e. when on the Hero Plane) to do certain things; sometimes acting as skills used in simple tests; and other times creating magical effects; and more. They also have a more general effect: they are the link to that web of heroquesting, and not only can they help you (indeed, define you) on heroquesting paths, on the flip side they identify you as a person that may be drawn into someone else’s heroquest (dragged from the mortal plane to the Hero Plane), even unwillingly or unwittingly. In other occasions (when I say so) they might be invoked on the mortal plane, passively or actively. (mainly/only when you are engaged in certain kinds of mortal-plane heroquesting)

You train through Sea Season 1625. Toward the end of the year, Syrr Kogag calls you together again at New Arv. He turns things over to Bradde, who says that his network has informed him that Ramalia is pushing to invade Handra. When they do, Handra surely will be inaccessible and your plans to use it to begin your quest around Ralios would be stymied. So he’s headed off immediately with Narak, via ship, to investigate goings-on so that when you arrive, there is some information and momentum for you and your quest. And they urge that you prepare to go in two weeks.

Syrr Kogag: “I hope that you are ready for a voyage like no other you’ve made on this plane. In ways, it will be a heroquest of many heroquests, but across this mortal plane. Maybe dipping into the Hero Plane now and then – the magic invoked by your journey should wax and wane as you go, as it connects to stories and myths; small and large. Fraud, you know how to lead these others properly when it does; by respecting the Hero Plane. The puzzle that this quest forms could build a web whose threads connect back to our interests on Giraine, while aiding the world, too.”

“In two weeks I’ll take you to Handra, where you can meet Bradde Mukkh and maybe Narak (if she stays there rather than goes to her people, who are also under threat from Ramalia), to get the latest information on that area. They leave now. As you know, Bradde is well-connected there. You should seek more knowledge in Handra from others; local and other travellers, such as sailors. Make what contacts you can that might help in the rest of you journey, or afterwards.”

Bradde- “You will need a guide in Handra through the New Fens for when you leave. I can help with that. We see no specific goals for you through the Fens, Caratan, or Pralorela, but you will want something like Trader Prince or Pralori guides past the Fens. Maybe I can help there, too.”

Narak- growls, “Or I.”

Apatune- “We don’t know what the state of affairs is in Ralios, beyond general details. There are two powerful city-states in Ralios that you must visit and seek what counsel you can achieve. One is Tiskos, whose Count Reynaldi Abryon has joined the League of Daran (alliance of multiple Safelster city-states) to fight Seshnela, who have branded his alliance the ‘New Stygian League’, even though most are Rokari too. Count Abryon has proven himself a great enemy of Chaos. Another city-state is Azilos, led by the Archon Foyalfine, who many say is an Arkat or has his power. Be careful with leaders in both places. Their power is matched only by their cunning and subtlety.”

Narak coughs, frowning and growling. “Let us not forget Estali, home of that League of horse-riders who used to be Hsunchen, and maybe still can be. Nor Walim, where the Serpent Beast Dancers live. I know little about either place. No one here knows.”

Syrr Kogag says very grimly, “Yes, and Safelster as a whole is where you’ll be most useful. You have little reason to go to Vesmonstran or the East Wilds; you have nothing in common with them. If you seek to go to Halikiv, it is a long journey through unfriendly lands, and it is unfriendly to non-Uz, so consider it carefully. But Safelster has plenty of problems, and Chaos is one. You will seek Chaos, but your seeking will bring Chaos to seek you. There is no other way. Yet at all costs avoid the city of Tinaros, where Argin Terror casts his evil shadow. If anyone becomes Arkat the Deceiver, it will be him. That place would be the death of you, or worse. Dainmol, home of some of the Chaos-tapping Boristi and Chaos Monks, remains suspect, although its Prince has brought matters under control, I hear. If you can tolerate or even ally with Arkati, you may have to choose which; if you can find them. They are very elusive.” He gives a thin, tusky smile to Fraud.

Apatune- “Indeed. We can recommend two specific contacts that we trust. We are not saying that they are Arkati, but they should be able to offer help. In Tiskos, there is Father Elzemond Blackhand at the small Temple of Great Arkat. He is an old friend of Syrr Kogag’s, and a figure who is public enough that you surely can meet him. In my old home of Azilos, look for one who calls herself Galswinth in public, but her trust might only be gained by her real name, Wisigard, in private. Guard that name with your lives. She will be difficult to find, in any case. I know of her, but have never met her face-to-face. She is enigmatic, to say the least.”

Syrr Kogag: “One day you must cross westwards into Seshnela from Ralios, to complete the circle of your quest and head back homewards. Before you do, or once you do, you might see how our allies, or new ones, can help Ralios, or oppose the King and Church of Seshnela. I am not informed on those matters, but I know they are of interest to you.”

Apatune: “Be warned that, as with most things, religion and politics are messy in Ralios. None of us love the Rokari Church of Seshnela. But many of the Ralios city-states are Rokari in culture, religion and politics, to varying degrees. While some (in western Ralios) look fondly on memories of Tanisor and thus push to rejoin Seshnela, others insist that their rulers and Church remain independent. So do not assume that your enemy here is your enemy there. Oh, and there is no Seshna in Ralios. There is a grain goddess Ralia, and the Earth goddess Ernalda is very popular. So I doubt that you will find any links to Seshna Gira in Ralios. But in Seshnela there must be plenty.”

Narak: “Don’t forget alliance with the beast-brothers and sisters. I can show you friends among the Mraloti, and they have friends, and those friends have friends. Value friendship. Insightful beings can smell the stink of insincerity.”

Bradde mutters, “Maybe any of these allies, or friends if you must, could help to understand the slumbering Night Dragon, too. Its power reaches across all Genertela.”

Syrr Kogag nods, then: “How you proceed and then get home is up to you to figure out. We will do our best to help keep Giraine stable in your absence. What questions do you have?”

You ask a few questions. Shrett asks Narak about whom to contact among the beast-folk, but she only knows that her Mraloti people may know; and the situation has changed since the awakening of beast-powers.

Shrett asks about Golgerengi of Safelster, whom you’d meet early on the Boat Planet quest. He seemed to be an Arkati and was from the Holat monastery, and had Grandfather Loon (animists of Felster Lake area) and Ancient Beast Society comrades with him. But no one present knows him or where he might be, and no one knows where Holat is.

Bog, unimpressed by the overall plan and just interested in Halikiv, asks where the Zorak Zoran shrines are. Bradde says he knows of one in Handra, but otherwise you must seek contacts amongst Uz-kind along your journey; and Arkat the Destroyer adherents may know, too – if you can find them.

Sea Season is a fine contrast to prior ones. Fine travelling weather; ships from around the world head out, plying their trade or raiding or sinking.

Soon enough you’re ready to leave! You meet the aeropod at New Arv in two weeks. Meanwhile, some big event has happened. No one is sure what, but religious leaders are all aflutter. It was on Clayday of Harmony Week of Earth Season, 1625.

The aeropod drifts over sea, parts of the Orninior Coast, the huge Trachodon Marsh, skirting the Mraloti Hills and Ramalia over Valekos (former home of Bradde), then finally across the New Fens before you catch sight of the wide, glittering blue-brown Noshain River that opens to Handra, and beyond it the Manirian Isles in the great Mournsea. You see the distant Tower of the famed port of Fay Jee, and wonder about it. Shrett has fashioned a very good mask for Fraud to hide his snake-face; it is simple but does not impede his senses or speech, and could easily pass for something used to hide disfigurement.

You have many dreams during your voyage! Fraud: You dream of a crowd of people in masks, milling about in an endless shadowed land. Some are performers. One lacks bones. Some have only skin. Another lacks skin. Some have a monster’s face behind the mask. Another’s mask is a horned monster or devil. One is a colourful trickster. One might lack a mask, just wearing the haggard face of a tortured poet. The last mask is plain, but the wearer rips off the mask and what is there is too terrible to describe—you rip yourself out of the dream with a muffled shout, covering your face with your hands.

Fraud has to stifle the urge to recite the Purple Sonnet! He hasn’t had to do this in ages!

Boamund: Your dream focusses on an extensive forest within rolling hills. You can see stones within a small clearing there; some sort of sacred place. Figures are active there. Some do not move like people. You grow uneasy. Then you feel a cold hand on your shoulder, and turn in surprise to see a warrior made of shadows, right hand on his sword stuck into the ground, the other hand having released your shoulder and now making a magical gesture to the clearing. There is a rough trail leading into the woods, and a well-travelled road further through the hills. The latter has a trail of blood along it. Further down that road, a strange blue lion is pacing. You awaken with many confused feelings.

Bog : You dream that you are resting in a nicely cool, shadowed cave. A terrible Uzuz mother shakes you, snarling, “The Destroyer can unwittingly be a mask of the Deceiver. There is only one Destroyer. Orktbrakt knows. Orktbrakt knows! ORKTBRAKT KNOWS!” She slaps you hard, and you awaken in shock. But, processing this later, he likes it.

Bog has a second dream! In your dream you see a black chasm from which bats flit out. Smoke rises from within. Then your vision shifts. You see remote hills, near great dark mountains. A strange hill of rubble has shadows hanging around it. Smoke rises from within. You awaken. Smoke curls from your nostrils and you cough in surprise.

Shrett only has vague dreams. He doesn’t like being away; feels his Granno connection weakening.

At last, one morning after a week’s travel, sometimes sampling the weird arthropod-cephalopod things that bud off the interior walls of the spacious aeropod, you descend to Handra’s “Other Boats” central port region. A crowd gathers to watch in wonder. A figure familiar to some of you, the wiry, weathered, tanned still-young Handran named Quirksket, comes forward to greet you with a big smile and much excitement. “Oh I’ve been waiting! I dreamt of this flying beast! And it’s you that it vomits forth! Handra is many-blessed!” he calls in Seshnegi as you depart the aeropod; Syrr Kogag soon departs. Shrett responds, asking about these dreams, and Quirket says he’s had them twice over the past week, unsure if they meant good or bad things, but now sees that it’s you so it is good! He recognises Boamund immediately and says you’re remembered in Handra. And soon you introduce Fraud, whose build Quirksket finds familiar. The man is reticent about Bog and friendly enough with Shrett. His job seems to be, for the Maritimer’s Guild, to welcome some visitors (apparently those of more importance; he has risen in his guild over the past 3 years since you visited last), and he also uses this to take new trade opportunities before anyone else grabs them.

Quirksket has some news: Troubles with broo: They no longer act like a primitive, disorganised nuisance in the New Fens. Now they have been raiding caravans, using weapons and armour and magic they pillage, and showing more numbers and boldness. A Ramalian knight and demon-sorceror named Sorc has been leading them. He lured an expeditionary force from Handra into the swamps and ambushed them, slaughtering and looting them. Now Handra fears that their isles are the next target.

Dragon Pass: King Broyan of Whitewall was slain by a (Kitori?/Black Arkati) demon. The Sartarites are building a larger army, but have yet to confront the Lunars again since retaking Boldhome.

Caratan/Maniria: The Trader Princes to the east of Handra are now free from the raids of dead Lord Greymane, and the Auloring barbarians to the north no longer keep to themselves (but so far are not overly harmful to neighbours, except they keep Ramalians away), and the Pralori have filled a power vacuum along the Old Manirian Road between Dragon Pass, Maniria and Ralios, but compete with the Trader Princes. And make a buffer that would make Ramalian encursion further north unlikely.

You ask him about any visitors of note. He points to ships around Other Boats- (1) the Coastfinder of this region; Captain Comito whom you met at Gothalos. (2) the galley “The Broken Rose”, led by Brown Vadeli Captain Gentletips; a merchant. (3) A Black Galley of Kogag: “The Tide You Don’t See Coming Until it is Too Late”; which Quirkset is intimidated by and knows nothing except that it had pursued the Coastfinder here, but the two ships have not interacted since then (about 2 weeks ago).

He also says that, since your visit 3 years ago, the Vision and Prophecy of the City have come to pass! As inscribed on walls of the Cathedral of Saint Sanbal on Cerowin Isle. It is now known that the Guild of Heroes is what Handra Liv saw, and now heroes have risen to populate it. This piques your interest.

Soon Quirkset guides you through the crowd down to the end of the pier by Bridge Head, where the scrivener takes over. He is Aestulophius Carmentarabol- a Slontan Scriveners guildsman; works on contract for the Maritimers Guild to record visitors. He is a “Twinner” (has married guild “sister”) from Home Isle. Fluent in Seshnegi. Tall, handsome, brown hair and short beard, perfumed and oiled hair curls, wears white cloak and fine jewelry; nice white cap. He is aloof, wealthy, and businesslike, and does not remember you. Conjuring magical paper, he writes on one page while a copy appears on another. He formally, stiffly takes your names and homelands and registers you as “penitent foreigners”, who are supposed to tithe more if they remain here (the Church of Handra is very influential). He directs Quirsket to put hoods/sash-locks on weapons larger than dagger—not to be drawn in town unless permitted by the Guard. He reminds you none may critique the Church of Handra here; it is sacrosanct and to be respected. And he explains how all business must be done through guilds. He can facilitate, or guilds can.

Once you’re done with the scribe, you walk into the edge of town and Bradde Mukkh hurries forth, having seen the aeropod arrive and the commotion that came with it. He says that indeed Handra is under imminent threat, and he should show you around before you get settled here. You walk around bustling Handra, seeing familiar or unfamiliar sights. On Home Isle, he brings you through a wide thoroughfare lined with crafters’ workshops. Bradde slows and says, “You have to see this. Come.” And he leads you to a very large, open circular plaza lined with fountains. In the centre is a sight that stops you in your tracks. There is an enormous, toothy skull on a stone platform, larger than any building in town. It is clean and whitewashed, although spotted with the droppings of seabirds and pterosaurs. Before its open jaws on its platform, a fine bronze sculpture of a boat is placed; dwarfed by the scale of the jaws. The boat features six figures, boldly posed in action. One by one you recognize them: Bar’ran, Amur, and some of you! Ahappi, Boamund, Fraud Shaven, and Ciddar!

An inscription in Handran, which Bradde translates, reads, “Here, in Storm Season 1621, Handra’s heroes Bar’ran the Monster-Killer, Amur the Dormali, Captain Ahappi Pellinoresbane, Boamund the Leopard, Fraud Shaven and Ciddar Blacksail defeated The Vomiter; The Midwife; The Polisher; and saved our city. They passed onwards, but may their tale live forever.”

You take the sight in and discuss it; reminded that Fraud’s visage no longer resembles this… and three of the six figures are now dead (directly due to Ahappi!), and Fraud and Boamund just narrowly avoided the same doom! But it is a fine homage to your victory.

Bradde smiles widely, baring his small tusks, and says, “Eel was a luxury for two days of celebration, then despised for seasons. The stench here is said to have been unbearable as it rotted, but they called all ships together and cut it to pieces and dragged what they could out to sea, with mermen and undines and sea-beasts taking what they could. Now on Handra, “Vomiter” is slang for pickled eel, which the wealthy have come to see as food fit only for the poor. I have not been here long now, and I can see why they hate it.” You laugh at this; “Vomiter” is now an insult in Handra. To call someone a vomiter is to pick a fight.

You go on to the Market of the Future (open plaza with seers on ground, on rugs, in tubs, standing, slithering… crowds watching; odd items for sale, mostly useless/drugs). Bradde escorts you to another familiar person. Kalbu the Unshackled Mind; an Entruli (Mraloti-related) Diviner’s guildman. A huge SIZ 18 musclebound hairy man in loincloth and sandals, but with soft, soothing, far-off voice; a gentle giant spirit-talker. He wears many rings and earrings connected by silver chains, and a silver guild cap around his neck on a chain as he forgets it too much. He sits down on a circular rug as you approach, holding out his hands to you and puffing on a long hazia pipe. Boamund comes up to him and takes his hands.

Kalbu, in a hazia-trance, says, “The Wanderer comes home, and the fate of the West teeters on the edge of his blade. His sword is a circle.” He speaks only Handran, so you have to translate for others.

Fraud comes forth, [he tenses up] “A dark circle. The serpent bites its own tail.” [relaxes] But it is not the Vomiter, and it does not begin in Handra. Both ends lie in the ocean, yet different oceans.”

Bog- “The mighty become mightier in the home of the mightiest. The circle is a rune, which is a city.”

Shrett- “A word. I do not know it, but maybe you shall. Haqatat. It is… a circle of men who are not men.” He is about to release them but holds Shrett’s hands again: “Only a Lord of Hell can break the chains of Hell. But Disorder and Chaos are sides of the same guilder, much as Darkness and the void. Whichever prevails, those waves will not wash over Handra, and that gives me comfort. Again, the circle is not here.”

And then he looks to everyone. “I bear witness. They come again and drag monsters behind them again. Already I feel bad dreams in the Spirit Plane. This circle is a shadow of the Vomiter. You are no friends to men.” [shaking] “Now I am done with you. Do not ever come here again.” And he turns away.

Bradde leads you onwards, past the Night Market, through Yard Isle, where some Guards of Handra meet you. They are relaxed; you feel under no threat; and they bring you invitation to meet with the Lictors on this Isle. You come along to the Informers Guild, a big imposing building called Grey Brick (stocks outside; other signs of justice being meted out here). Bradde waits outside; says “This is your business.” Aestulophius Carmentarabol meets you at the doors and explains he is here as your representative; that you should not be concerned. Master Aliator, an imposing figure among the other 24 grey-cloaked Lictors, is the head Lictor and addresses you: “Welcome. We remember you; long has your fame lasted, heroes from Giraine. We remember how you sacrificed yourselves against The Vomiter, and we’d thought you dead, but word carried across the seas that you lived, and had been polished. And we have heard more since; of you on the Boat Planet, for example. You are heroes worthy of our Guild, and we would welcome you to it, but we know that you do not come to stay here. There is some other importance. So why do you come to Handra, if you may please tell us?” Fraud gives an explanation, which Aliator accepts as satisfactory, and says that whatever business you have beyond Handra is your own. You have a little discussion, then he turns things over to the scrivener, who reads a notice from the Priors; guild-based rulers of Handra. “The Priors ask that you aid us in this time of need. Our army and navy are depleted by war with the Ramalians and raids by the Wolf Pirates. Our Guild of Heroes is not enough to save us. We know a battle is coming to us. We cannot prevent it. The evil Ramalian king Pauzal the Impaler has long had designs on his, with great hatred for how we are a symbol of seafarers. Ramalia has crushed the Trader Princes, and Greymane’s men no longer are any obstacle, so Ramalia comes for soon. Already they foray more often into the New Fens, finding ways to easily cross it. We ask that you stay in Handra to defend us, as you did before. We need you, and will give you what we can in return, if we all survive the inevitable onslaught.” Boamund says yes, you will do that. This is all in Handran, so Shrett and Bog express discontent as you leave, that they are being left out of these important conversations and someone needs to translate along the way.

Bradde continues the tour, on to Mooring Isle, past the many docks and the Blue Dock Bar (a good place to relax or chat to locals) and the Seamans Guild – “There is the Guild of Seamen. They trade with the merfolk. Inside stands the emerald tablet of the Treaty of Handra, which Handra Liv made with the Ludoch, in which it is promised that we give them weapons and other made goods, while they give us artifacts recovered from the drowned cities of Slontos; and our traders may not trade foreign goods to the Ludoch. This is Handra’s most holy artifact.” He shrugs and adds, “I’ve never bothered to see it. It’s not my kind of thing.” And then a well-clad messenger runs up to Bradde and hands him a fine parchment; Bradde pauses and reads it, half-grins and grumbles, saying “Word travels fast in Handra, like the rushing tide. You have been invited to speak with the High Priestess in the Cathedral.” He crosses Mooring Isle, noting the Magicians Guild in the “Smokehouse” building there, and you pass the many temples to other gods (theist and Malkioni faiths) on Temple Isle, before catching a Handran water-taxi to Cerowin Isle; the Cathedral of Saint Sanbel; a fine old building featuring three tall, slender, elegant spires.

Of the high priestess Obrana: Bradde explains: “The High Priestess of Handra Liv was a concubine slave of one of the Trader Princes, but escaped and fled to Handra, where she became one of the priestesses, and eventually High Priestess, of Handra Liv. Under her leadership the temple has become exceedingly wealthy, as she sponsors many mercantile adventures with the temple’s gold. She has great political power here; transcending that of the guilds. Handra Liv’s Prophecy of the City is inscribed on the walls. Handra Obrana’s coming has coincided with its.” He shows interest in seeing this famed priestess, but then decides it’s not right for him to do, and he asks that you tell him what you see there.

He then sits down outside, takes out some black bones like dice, and begins throwing them about on the ground with his newtling Gulp, in silence. You then realise that you’ve never paid much attention to Gulp, nor did he draw much. There’s more to his relationship than him being Bradde’s slave. You feel that they are friends. There is a strong bond between them. It is touching. Now you realise Gulp has always been around Bradde, but attracts almost no attention, except from Bradde.

The guards look at your invitation then allow you inside the temple: The wide hall of the cathedral has a cool sea breeze blowing through its pillared spaces, and with it the blue-green painted walls and their frescoes seem to ripple. At the far end, there is a huge inscription in Handran, surrounded by lovely carvings of Handran scenes. Handra Obrana gracefully comes down the hall. She is a beautiful, pale woman in flowing blue robes, with mysterious eyes surrounded by subtle shadows that circle like whirlpools.

“I’ve dreamed of you since I came here a year ago. Many dreams, some foul and some fair. I know the Priors hold much hope in your coming, as do the citizens. I hold some hope, too. But tell me, why should Handra trust you?” Shrett tries speaking to her in Tradetalk, she pauses, and he then realises he’s done a faux pas of being overly informal. This is no place for merchants’ Tradetalk; it is no tongue for formal discussions with prominent figures.

Fraud takes over, and makes a good case for why Bog and Shrett, and you two others, should be trusted. That you won’t, as she asks about, leave when the shadows threatening Handra get deepest. He professes that you love Handra.

She accepts this and holds out her hands, conjuring a ball of energy mirroring the colour of the walls: “I alone hold a secret of Handra. One of many, but it might aid you. I offer one of you a blessing of Handra Liv’s freedom. It can free you from any bondage.” Fraud reaches for it and it infuses him. He gains a one-use “Freedom of Handra”—can slip free from any physical or magical bond; takes no action or MP.

She adds, “If you aid us more, there can be more blessings for you in return. Handra has much to offer its friends.”

You talk a little more but she keep it brief; is polite but curt. Bog has grown bored and looks around, finding nothing of interest. Shrett sulks about.

You leave, and Bradde gets you a newtling coracle water-taxi over to Queue Isle, where you go to the Heroes Guild, arguing all the way there. It is arand cube-shaped building with evocative decorations of heroic scenes. There are no guards, and various script above the open doorway says, “Welcome heroes and those that need heroes.” You go into a hall that is also grand, with comfortable furnishings, weapons bedecking the wall, more heroic scenes, etc. A girl approaches. At first she just seems like an innocent girl, but she introduces herself and you learn she is one of the heroes here – “Epic Cub”, who can turn into a giant bear but also likes being a girl; although there is something about her beyond her apparent 10 years of age. You chat and soon enough you meet 3 other resident heroes:

1. Ka the Waertagi – (insists people call him by his full name; to not do so is a grave offense) A stately, very fish-like blue-green, who wears nothing but a very tight loincloth. He was on the Boat Planet, you find out. When he battles, he wields water powers, a trident, and can cause his scales to fly about, cutting foes. He states his name very often, and acts like he believes he is a hero.
2. Targ the Thundering Duck—a duck in a winged silver helmet, who has bronze wings and a temper like Orlanth himself; reputed to hold that fury of the Storm within him. He has an incomprehensible quacking voice. Only fellow Guilders can understand and translate him. He is calm when you meet him, and even cracks a joke which you’re told to laugh at, and you do, if rather forced.
3. Twinman Twinman—a normal-looking (indeed, plain) human in fine Handran guildsman clothes, who can turn into two copies of himself, and is a potent sorcerer of Malkion (unclear which sect). And, as Bog finds to his delight, is an extremely capable cook! Oddly, when he first heads off to cook, he leaves his “twin” behind with Bog, and Bog is unnerved by this, heading away into the kitchen to watch the marvel of the original twin’s sorcerous cooking.

They eventually explain that they’re the only heroes here in this Guild now. No wonder Handra needs your help. Others come and go; some have died; and the Heroes’ Guild mainly has been occupied lately with opposing Ramalia and the broos of the New Fens. They’ve hunted for Sorc but never even seen him. You’re respectfully given a good room in the Guild, welcomed graciously, and you relax. Except Bog, who finds Bradde outside and goes off to the Night Market as evening approaches. Shrett throws his new Stalking sorcery and follows behind.

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