Geoffrey shouts a warning of the approach of a malevolent spirit through the mists, just in time as it comes forth and screaming spirit-bolts lash at Boamund, who wills himself aside to safety. It is now visible through the mists as Geoffrey identifies it: “The Spirit That Kills With Its Eyes” – mostly consisting of a humanoid torso bearing baleful eyes and a giant fanged mouth. It shoots spirit-bolts from its eyes and rends awfully with its mouth. It comes for Shrett now. But you are ready. All four of you close with it, and Bog strikes first- he catches it off guard with a powerful wallop of his spectral maul, and it startsto try to turn away from battle, but the rest of you lay into it and before it has any more chance it is utterly defeated. (and it was nasty, too! Would have destroyed any 1 PC in normal spirit combat)

You sojourn on through the Mistmarch. Then another spirit appears, this time without much warning. You are faced by a giant, ghostly-white and semi-transparent mink, obviously a native of the Mistmarch, as it rises out of the mist. It’s quite a bit larger than the one you saw in the Middle World. Geoffrey says: “It is a Ghost Mink, a servitor of Stormflood the Taker, often sent to bring vengeance and to right wrongs. A ritual combat is involved, even for innocent parties. Watch yourselves!”

It speaks, first in Auloring but then in Tradetalk, then Beastspeech, then Boatspeech: “Was it one of you? One of you who set me loose? My cohorts are already taking, just as we were invited. Where is the offender? Give him to me to restore your fortune! Call me by name when you meet him. He is mine! And something of yours is mine too!” You figure that it refers to Childebear and you can call for the Ghost Mink if you want it to come to him. But…

As soon as it finishes its speech, it lunges and attempts to strike you. The Ghost Mink attacks each of you simultaneously, but each of you only see it attacking you, not the others, as if you are the only one present. It bites with fierce fangs and strikes with powerful claws. Again this is one of the nastiest spirits you’ve faced. But each of you only must survive its one attack, and you’re able to strike back. And again you fare very, very well indeed. None of you lose to its skilled assault (you’re very fortunate, as it could steal magic from nice shiny items!).

Indeed, Fraud manages to wrest a claw from it (a 1-use Summon Ghost Mink spell—details = Intensity 3 Spirit; INT 14 POW 20 CHA 20; Initiative 17; Action Pts 3; MP 20; Damage 1d12 MP; Spirit Combat 110%; Discorporate 110%; Prefers bleed essence effect (gets 2x effect); Or can fight like a wraith in Middle World; armour pts 5 (no locations; only hurt by magical attacks or similar) and makes wounds Bleed (free special effect) on any wound)

And Shrett takes a piece of ghost-mink hide (1-use Stormflood’s Mist Cloud spell; details: Area (Metres diameter), Cost 1, Duration (Minutes), Ranged (Tens of Metres), Rank Initiate, Resist (Evade), This spell creates a small circular area of natural-looking mist around a target, which if hostile, may try to resist. Failure means that the cloud will follow the target. Success means that the cloud stays put and they are outside it. Others placed inside may also Evade to escape. Visibility in or through the mist is limited to arm's length, effectively blinding the recipient if they possess no other senses to help. [note that the cloud not only surrounds them, but also anyone near them/it]

Once each of you has faced a strike you are aware of each other again, and the ghostly figure snarls, “The offender is not here. Call me when you meet him, and he will pay!” before fading away into a cloud of mist. You worry that Geoffrey is taking you on a tour of deadlier and deadlier spirits!

Geoffrey leads you deeper and deeper into the Mistmarch, and surroundings become more abstract; composed of a mix of senses more than discrete sight and touch. The first thing you notice is the smell of alcohol being distilled. Then a large figure of a naked woman outlined in burning blue, as if covered in burning alcohol, appears out of the mist. Geoffrey says: “This is Arak, a Potent Spirit, a favoured servitor of Carra the Giver, sent to bring blessing, healing and to soothe the injured. Deal peacefully with her.”

She speaks (Auloring, then Tradetalk): “Come to me! Come to me and be made whole! The broken must be healed, and the two made one anew. Revenge is not the way. Give and forgive, and the land will give its blessings!” Fraud comes forward and takes her embrace happily. He is restored to full health and alertness (no fatigue etc.), as if after the best night’s sleep he’s ever experienced, and could have given her more energy in return for a blessing but felt too magically weak to do that. Then Shrett came, and he did take Carra’s Blessing (6 MP; +1 level success for dealings w/Aulorings while in Caratan for the near future). Bog comes up and rejects her embrace, but she insists, and is forceful, but he rejects this more strongly, and she pushes him off in a gust (not violent, but firm) of alchohol, and he is struck drunk. Boamund approaches last, uneasily, and gently, awkwardly does the embrace with a sort of pat on the back and a quick withdrawal.

Arak then says: “It was not one of you, I perceive that. But I know what happened. The balance must be restored. If you call me when the two are together I will come to bring healing.” She then fades in a whiff of alcohol. Bog staggers in pleasure.

Geoffrey then guides you to another spiritual pool and leaves you to return to the Middle World; he goes on his way elsewhere while you effortlessly float back upwards. “You know all you need to know. You do not need me, but the clans need you. Go, and go with Wesrod’s blessing. May you display Truth by your deeds.” You surface in a crescent-shaped pool on a small rise, within sight of Lowclere. Dagodent surfaces too, surprised, and says “Oh! This pool is a sacred place called Pietresmere! I do not remember how I got here; I must have looked too deeply into the pool at Sauvin Rise, as I wondered what you were up to. I saw everything. Amazing! I am your witness.”

You’ve surfaced shortly before sunset, and can hear the sounds of music and celebration, and see folks arriving in the village, which is nicely decorated. Dagodent says: “Clearly, it is the seventh day since the feast! We’ve arrived just in time. I hope you have an idea what to do. The marriage ceremony of Childebear and Elzabet must be ready to begin…” You discuss this “idea of what to do” at great length and with much back and forth. At first, some favour the option to have Childebear executed. But Boamund quickly pushes for a peaceful solution.

Prompted a little, Dagodent gives some extra info:

• Clan Jacquin would favour a more violent solution such as the execution of Childebear for the rape of Elzabet. After all, his taking has invited the Ghost Mink, the emissary of Stormflood, into the world, and so has threatened the livelihood of all. Only giving the perpetrator to the Ghost Mink will solve the problem from their point of view. Once justice has been done via the Taker’s way, he will return to the Mistmarch.
• In contrast, Clan Dornar would see the role and place of forgiveness as the solution to the quandary, and thus breaking the cycle of violence with generosity that is the trait of the Giver, Sweetwater. Persuading Elzabet to truly forgive Childebear, and enter into marriage with him, will seal the rift, and enable the blessings of Sweetwater to flow.
• It looks like the wedding celebration is beginning, with most people there already, so you should expect to need to address the whole crowd. Dagodent will explain to the crowd what has happened, vouching as witness to the heroes’ actions. (he takes prompts first)
• You will, ideally, have to succeed in two consecutive tasks. The first is to convince the assembly of the rightness of stopping or continuing the wedding. The second is to suggest judgement for Childebear, and convince both clans (each plumerey/ring) of the rightness of the decision.

Bog steps out of the debate so that there is a majority decision. How nice of him. Maybe it was the booze? You finally agree that a middle-road decision is best: have the wedding, but argue that Childebear must have all his property henceforth in Elzabet’s authority.

You go into Lowclere, and into the roundhouse, where it is festive. Dagodent gets the crowd’s attention (although your entry did much of that anyway); with Lothair urging silence to hear what has become of your mission he sent you on. Dagodent delivers the facts, but falters from nervousness, and the crowd is unsettled. Most knew of the bad omens at the feast and this gossip travelled far.

You join in to finish the explanation, with Boamund aided by Shrett and his blessing of Carra. Step by step in the ongoing discussion, the two plumereys debate the facts and possibilities. They’re a tough crowd. But, overall, you do very well. (Good rolls! Tough skill checks! Keep boosting that Tradetalk!)

Childebear is confronted with a powerful presentation of his rape of Elzabet, and he breaks down and confesses his crime. This in itself is enough to justify further action; the mood of the crowd radically changes. That, however, is not enough. Justice must be done, and the assembled parties for the marriage become an impromptu tribal gathering, ready to consider judgement. You advocate for Childebear to give up his property to Elzabet. Some of his defiance returns. He does not like this at all. But… You call for Arak the Potent Spirit to bring blessing and healing on the couple. She appears dramatically and proclaims, “I call upon you with the voice of Carra. Drink together. Embrace each other in forgiveness. The wrongdoings here will wash away with Time.”

The two clans agree!

Sigefrid has hurried a Wesrod scrying divination from a corner of the roundhouse: “Wesrod speaks to me. Childebear will become a different man, broken and changed by the power of forgiveness. Elzabet is indeed with child. They will grow to adulthood destined to be a great leader and peacemaker among the Brangol tribe. There may, however, be many in the gathering who object to such “weakness” and will plot to bring suitable vengeance, unless they have been suitably convinced beforehand. It is an uncertain future; the waters are hazy on this; but violence has been avoided for now.” Lothair responds that they are lucky to hear this of the child, that if they are truly gifted by this, maybe the new leader might become a king of Caratan, but this would be hoping for too much for a clan so lowly as the Jacquins.

Asked, Dagodent says that the vision of the burning roundhouse is just a possible future that seems to have been allayed; for now? But Lothair speaks jubilant of the results of the judgement. He calls on the wedding to begin, and it does carry forth with a muted Childebear and Elzabet with maybe a hint of a smile after she spent the whole debate stony-faced. Then the celebration begins! Bog leaps into the invitation to drink with the Aulorings, and gets incredibly drunk and prances on a tabletop doing a Zorak Zoran war dance to his own inner rhythm while the Aulorings do their own, and Shrett; also drunk; croaks what he can. Fraud just sips “potent spirit” via a reed thru his mask and enjoys watching. Boamund, who was standing with Dagodent, gets called up to the high table and sits with Lothair. Soon Bog drinks himself under the table almost literally; he falls to the floor. The Aulorings have received his gift of his culture with ample respect and hospitality and patience. Maybe not praise, but maybe that would ask too much.

Compt Lothair draws Boamund aside: “I am fortunate to have had visitors such as you at a trying time such as this. We so seldom get visitors worthy of fond remembering, but then we are but Aulorings and we do not deserve them. Our respect for you now is stronger than bronze, but I promised you more than that, and I can but try to give something that you would not find crude. Your friends are indisposed; let us not disturb them. When the time is more appropriate, let us meet and I will present what I can.” Boamund says you don’t want any reward, but Lothair won’t have it. He says he must give.

The party winds down, people disperse and Lothair invites you all to spend the night in his roundhouse. You rest well. Bog gets up with a terrible hangover, and Shrett is not so well either. Yet soon you break your fast and meet at a table with Lothair. “I have noticed that some of you have lost in helping us. I have already arranged but a trifle of an offering from my little armoury in some poor recompense. This helm was worn by my great aunt Shimmering Galda; she took up Ustelm’s spear and fought bravely for the tribe. This shield I won in single combat against a foul sun-worshipping invader from the fortress of Lartuli in Ralios. They are yours.” Obviously these are intended for Shrett and Bog, respectively. Lothair has been very perceptive. He points to a fine, polished bronze helm carved like a fierce mink’s head [5pts], and a battle-worn but sturdy, bronze-reinforced hoplon shield decorated with a lancer’s image. (note that Lartuli is a Galanini stronghold of the Estali League in Safelster)

Some servants carry in sundry containers of coins and jewelry. “Now, take what you wish. It is a pittance of a reward, I must apologise. We cannot afford what heroes such as you deserve.” Some modest wealth is there; 2500 silvers. You don’t want to take more than a few token ones, but Dagodent whispers that you must take a good helping, and in the end you take 1000 total.

Compt Lothair then takes a deep breath. His eyes roll back in his head as his whole body stiffens for a few moments, then relaxes as his eyes swivel back to blink and refocus on you. “There. This is all I can offer that is of value to us, even if it is no treasure to you.” And beside him a male figure has formed from the Spirit World. It speaks in Auloring, and Lothair says, “This is my great-great-uncle Sword-and-Smile Taghufurd. He slew the Zombie Chief of the Ice-Marsh, and convinced the Hemlock Elves to trade with us. Taghufurd has watched your heroic aid through my eyes and been mightily impressed. Now he offers his service to one of you. Open yourself and he will join your adventures for some time.”

While others think it over, Bog says yes, he’ll take it! And so the spirit merges with him. He gains a bound spirit, INT 13 POW 17 CHA 17, giving him these skills: Speak Auloring 100%, Speak Boatspeech 70%, Undead Lore 75%, Customs (Aldryami) 50%. Cannot fight or share MP, or talk; etc. Is purely passive. Although a shaman etc. could see it and even interact if they wanted to.

Party Luck pts = 3! Huzzah!

You thank Lothair and exchange goodbyes. That morning, you join back with recovered, cheery Yorge duDerysi, who has done well in the area over the past week, making new contacts and trades. Dagodent asks, maybe he might come with you now? He has no clan of his own and has enjoyed his travels with you, and finds the idea of exploring the outside world with such heroes as you to be very exciting. He has been very useful here, but you also have weighed the man as a hero and found him a bit wanting in terms of the scale of dangers you routinely face. The odds of a terrible death are high. You tell him this as you diplomatically decline his offer. He takes it well enough. He admits that he can write (exceptional for an Auloring! They do not write, due to paranoid of the Fools Curse and Godlearner books), and so he can as you say be a correspondent via writing. So you say goodbye to him too, saying that he might be a chronicler of the rise of Caratan and/or its new king if they return.

So you go to Riknos Crossing, reaching it in just a couple of hours!

EXTRA INFO FROM YORGE: (skipped in-session, but colourful)

Often known as Crossroads Town, it lies just on the northern borders of Caratan. It is the largest settlement between Estali in the northwest and Bastis in the southeast. Situated where the Old Wenelian Road meets the Noshain River on the borders of Pralorela, it stands at the northern limit of navigation for trading vessels coming from Handra on the Mournsea coast.

It is notable for its ancient bridge, the Dakirkos, built overnight in 1488 by the eponymous city founder, the hero (a Ralian Sorcerer) Riknos, in response to a challenge from a haughty Pralori chief about the power of the Noshain river, which Riknos proved he could overcome. The bridge is a magnificent wooden structure, richly decorated, that arches high and far across the river. For a remote locale like this, it stands out as amazing; beautifully set against the landscape and town. Large turquoise-coloured carved wooden horse heads project from each of the four corners.

An ancient meeting place, Riknos Crossing provides a safe center for trade and commerce between the Wenelian tribes and towns to the east, the Hsunchen peoples to the west, and traders from the shores of the Felster Lake to the north, the Auloring from the south and the Durulz and newtlings from the New Fens and the Mournsea coasts. Strong Harmony magics within the stockade work to maintain peace.

The Manirian/Old Wenelian Road: Extending some 700 miles, the Manirian Road is a trade route linking Ralios and the West of Genertela with the Holy Country, Dragon Pass, and the Lunar Empire. Until the Opening of the Seas in 1580, this was the only route between those civilized lands; since then, the land route has been supplemented (and, to some extent, superseded) by sea routes between the Holy Country and Seshnela. Trader Prince magic maintains it. It has the most traffic during Fire and Earth Seasons because the weather makes it more difficult at other times.

Caravans of mules transport iron, teas, kafl leaf, hazia, slaves, textiles, fine glassware, and other luxuries produced in Seshnela and Ralios. From the Holy Country they carry back gold, silver, wine, jewels, spices, and other luxuries from the Holy Country itself, Dragon Pass, and the Lunar Empire. The trading activities along the Manirian Road over the centuries have facilitated the transmission not just of goods, but also ideas and culture. Art, dress style, music, dance, and even religious cults have been spread and mixed along the Manirian Road. As a result of the Opening, the Manirian Road has declined in importance, as sea transport is generally faster and less expensive. However, recent Wolf Pirate depredations have resulted in a modest resurgence in trade along the Manirian Road, especially now that Lord Greymane is gone.

Yorge directs you to a good place to gather information for your journeys beyond Caratan:The Riknos Tavern: A very basic, small tavern with few adornments; no rooms, just food and drink; not even music or dancing. But kept warm with a large hearth. Cramped with a diverse crowd who mostly mix with each other in good cheer. Yorge explains that Trade and Harmony rune magics of the Trader Princes encourage peace here.

Shrett dives into the hubbub seeking information, aided by Bog, and you get helpful news before nightfall:

1. It’s said that the animal people have a temple near the Manirian Road in Pralorela, but all those outsiders who have sought it have met ill fates.
2. The first settlement of note along the road in southern Ralios is a monastery of odd Rokari scholars, known for hospitality and unusual openness. (this would be in/near Daran County; which is composed of Rokari people with Ehilm/sort-of-theist nobility; so a monastery *located* like this is not so odd)
3. Baron Vitel Ornim of Ornim Castle in southeastern Daran County is a loyal supporter of the League of Daran and enemy of Tanisor. He is well liked amongst his people, but the town has had hard times lately.
4. People in Safelster are growing more and more uneasy of rumours of great power rising amongst the storm barbarians to the east in Ralios. A Chariot of Lightning Sect of Orlanth Henotheist worship has risen even amongst the more civilised cities there. Estali is one of the Safelster counties that is most tense about this. (they are the Galanini horse riders you’ve heard much of already)

You camp for the night, buy 2 mules from Yorge (for Shrett to care for; carrying food and other supplies; and the bronze that Shrett just bought), and depart the next morning, with mutual well-wishes from Yorge. He’s been fine as a guide.

MORE INFO FROM YORGE: gives info on Pralorela: Also known as Elkland, these forested hills are also home to the Damali deer-folk and several other, rarer Hsunchen. Caravans traveling between Ralios and Maniria pass through this land under the protection of the Trader Princes. The lands just to the south of the escarpment of the Pralorelan hills are unusual in Caratan for both their dryness and for the large amount of outcrops and stone pavements. The area never suffers from lasting flood problems as all the run-off from the nearby hills drains straight into the fissures and flows away beneath the surface. Several large karst cave complexes are known and many systems that are more extensive are reputed to exist.

Shrett spots a glint of metal off of the road. About five metres away, amidst the brush on an edge of the Tarinwood, a figure sits propped against a pine tree. The glint comes from a suit of bronze scale armour. Very warily, Shrett investigates (Fraud is cowering; Bog is covering for him; Boamund is hoping for good outcomes): The suit is empty and green with weathering. It has become overgrown with vines, and bright red berries sparkle where flesh would have been exposed. Shrett sees no sorcery when he uses magic to seek for any. There is a bronze sword lying a few paces away, entwined with thorny growths. You suppose it is a trap, a warning, or something else, and so you give it a wide enough berth and pass on.

Later that morning, you spot something else unusual. There’s a very strange tree along an edge of the Tarinwood, its base surrounded by flowers and other vibrant growth. Its trunk is soft blue and its leaves are soft white. There is a pattering that comes from it as droplets fall from its canopy onto the forest floor. It is not raining now, but under the tree it is. Shrett thinks it over and maybe it is a mythical Shower Tree? Bog adds that perhaps this comes from some interaction with the Storm Gods, maybe Heler? But you are not sure, except that this is not a thing to go poking around with, and Fraud is very happy when you soon move on.

Early afternoon comes. Boamund catches motion on the edge of the Tarinwood, and sees several armed Aldryami quietly converging on you. With a whisper of motion amidst the Tarinwood, ten figures slide out. Each one is different, and all are armed. There is a tall, uncannily thin thing along with them, that looks like an attempt of a green bush to take a humanoid form, but mostly failing. Bog, not understanding why yet, realises he understands elves better now, and says that maybe they want to parley, since they haven’t killed you yet and could have by now?

Shrett hails them in Aldryami. One brown elf wearing a wooden war-mask approaches, arrow nocked. It recoils at his Aldryami, evidently finding it distasteful. It speaks with a creaking voice in Tradetalk: “Speeeeeeeeakkkk. Theeeee treeees siiiing maaany sooongs of yoooouuuu.” Three of the elves now have weapons trained on Bog, and the bush-thing comes forth to lean over him, shaking itself. He touches his mace, ready for action. Fraud cowers again. This is not his day.

The leader explains to Shrett: it calls itself “Frowns at Meatpuppets” in Tradetalk; a warrior and acolyte of Aldrya. It asks firmly, why do you have the poison metal [iron]? It stinks. Shrett is happy that he has none, and Bog doesn’t either of course, but Shrett tries to calm the leader down about Boamund and Fraud, that you’ve killed no Aldryami and do not seek to. His words might be enough for this leader? It seems ready now to talk. But it REALLY wants to talk. To wring you of information like juice from a fruit.

—-

© Copyright - 2000-2024 - John Hutchinson, Tim Evans, Pete Nash, Colin Driver and Gordon Alford