Introduction
This is the start of a series of generally self-contained adventures about a monster hunter called Chandra as she travels across the Ironlands answering the call from settlements looking for assistance.
I plan to write these as more of an adventure story style of writing in the third person, though I dithered between past and present tense. Present is more engaging and immersive, but past reads more like a story. Feel free to comment on any suggestions or recommendations.
If you’re interested in how the game plays, I’ve included my notes at the end for how I played it out before filling the gaps of the narrative in longer form writing from what I was imagining as I went through it. I may do a review post of the rules at some point, but for now a quick search of Ironsworn online will bring up plenty of information.
This started out as a standard “find the monster, slay it, take the reward” adventure, but took an interesting turn. Read on to find out what happened.
Story
A tall, broad faced woman strides up the well trod road to the settlement of Shieldmoor nestled in the ruins of an ancient city. She has limbs thick with knotted cords of muscle and while still only a few summers past two decades of age, a hard life has drawn itself over her body. She carries a long, stout spear resting against her shoulder with a large satchel slung over her back and a short sword and a knife attached to her belt. She wears a dark green tunic over faded brown breeches with a thick, simple cloak of burgundy fixed over her shoulders with a bronze broach in a pattern of interweaving leaves.
The guards, jumpy after the recent spate of raids, shout a challenge, levelling their own spears at her as she approaches.
“I am a free warden of the Ironsworn, here to take the job of hunting the monster that threatens your trade.” Her voice has a hard edge to it, her accent strange to their ears more used to the softer tones of the eastern reaches.
She holds up her left hand, showing the black iron signet ring upon it with the rune etched in silver, the symbol of the Ironsworn. They approach slowly until they can see the ring clearly, then lower their spears, still wary but with a glimmer of hope in their eyes.
“You are most welcome, Ironsworn. These are dark days upon us and I fear for the future of this place,” the lead guard says. He turns and whistled loudly back towards the gate and a youth runs out of the settlement and up to him.
“Rouse the council, tell them someone has heard our plea for aid.” The guard directs the youth who nods, glancing shyly at the stranger before running off. The guard nods to her and steps aside to let her pass into the settlement through the wooden gateway constructed in the gap between two ruined stone gate-towers.
The mayor is a heavy set man of middling years with a voice that was high and soft to her ears.
“Who are you then?” he asks her, his voice haughty as he looks around the other members of the council with a self assured smile.
“I am Chandra, a free warden of the Ironsworn. I received word that you had been having trouble with some monstrous beast attacking your trade routes?” Her voice is even and firm.
“Yes,” spoke one of the councillors, an older women in richly adorned garments, “few traders have made it through these past months and those that have speak of a great horned man-beast attacking their comrades. This settlement is a vital stop in the trade routes between the many settlements of the Havens to the south and the rich iron mines to the north. With no guarantee of safe passage they may soon seek alternative routes and without that trade and those supplies we will not survive the winter.”
The others nod and murmur their agreement and concern.
“Will you help us?” the old woman pleads.
Chandra looks around the richly adorned room and the expensive garments on display on these people grown soft from the luxuries of being a wealthy trading hub.
“I will. Three hundred silver penningar is my price,” she says firmly.
There were a few gasps at the price, enough to buy a well bred stallion. The mayor went red faced and was about to utter his outrange when the old woman held up her hand and, looking to a few of the other elder councillors who nodded, spoke for the council.
“Very well, if you can make the trade routes safe once more, then you will have your reward,” she says.
Chandra nods and raises her left hand in a fist.
“I vow on this black iron that I will make the trade routes safe once more.”
She presses the iron ring to her lips and kisses it, sealing the vow. She spends some time questioning the councillors about the attacks before retiring to the victualler’s to converse with the traders, merchants and guards who travel the roads. She found no evidence of wild beast attacks on her own journey up and it appeared someone was picking the remains clean after the attacks as there was no evidence of destroyed goods strewn across the roadways. The tales she hears varied wildly, but they seem to agree that the attacks happened on the stretch of road overlooked by the ruined watchtower on the small hill in the woods, a few days travel from the settlement. Before turning in for the night, she finds a private place and takes the bronze broach from her cloak, holding it up before her face and murmuring the ancient words of protection passed down by her people for generations. Satisfied that the talisman of her people would bring her aid she slept soundly in preparation for her journey in the morning.
She sets out early the next morning, taking a different route to the one she came in on to see if there was anything more to be uncovered. As she travels along the pathway the landscape turns from forest to bare rock as the rocky highlands became sheer cliff faces. As she rounds one of these steep faced mountains she comes upon a majestic sight, a huge frozen cliff face giving way to a deep clear pool of water. On the shores of the pool and the base of the ice clad cliff face is a bustling camp. As she approaches a couple of guards straighten up and scowl at her.
“What is this place?” she calls out, curious at what the camp was for.
“Whose askin’?” one of the guards shoots back. She holds up her ring to them and their eyes go wide in surprise.
They explain the situation and ask that happened. Drehko swears an oath that they will leave the caravans in peace and as a way to regain clan honour promises to protect the caravan routes for the next year to ensure trade is re-established. Shieldmoor is happy with this outcome and rewards your efforts, along with a bonus from the supplies returned and some extra for Sadia.
“I’m here about the recent attacks on the trade caravans, do you know anything about them?” she asks.
“Aye, the overseer ‘as been getting pretty irate about that. ‘e’s lost several shipments of supplies needed for the excavations,” one of the guards allows.
“Excavation?”
“Aye. They call it the Frostfall Excavation. Apparently it’s the site of some ancient storehouse of fabulous wealth. Mostly all we’ve seen come out of it are bits of old pottery and some rusty ole bits of metal though. Still the overseer is a wealthy man, or at least has a wealthy benefactor as ‘e’s pretty free with the coin. It’s a good gig if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ a little more settled. Not much to bother us out these parts and you can ask a good price from the overseer and he won’t bat an eyelid. Wish I’d asked for more, truth be told. Would have if I’d known how incompetent he was,” the guard is chatty and amicable now.
“I have undertaken a sworn task and must complete it. I’ll rest here for the night if you’ll let me then continue on my journey.” she says.
“You’re welcome to stay the night, no one will notice another guard about the place, but I’d advise you against continuing down that there path.”
“Oh?” she raises an eyebrow.
“Aye, that leads into the woods, that’s varou territory. Frost Leaf Clan. Those wolf men scare the crap outta me I don’t mind admitting. You can sometimes ‘ear them ‘owling in the night. They ‘aven’t bothered us ‘ere, not much forest in these parts, but if you go further you’ll encounter them, and they don’t take kindly to ‘uman folk the way some of the clans do. No. If I were you I’d turn back the way you came and take the main road,” the guard says with a serious tone. His compatriot nods too.
“Very well, I thank you for your advice, and your hospitality,” she says gratefully. It was frustrating to lose days of travel returning to Shieldmoor, but the varou clans could be highly territorial and while some were open to trade and interaction with human settlements, many would kill anyone who entered their territory on sight.
She sets off once again the following morning heading back the way she came. As she moves away from the bare rock and back to the path that skirts along the forest, she senses movement in the woods around her and before she can react, three varou surrounded her. They stand a head taller than her, looking like a cross between a large man and a wolf. They are clad in deerskin kilts and have their claws extended. The lead varou growls deeply at her.
She grew up on the borders of the Deep Wilds and had encountered such beastmen before. The fact they hadn’t already ripped her throat out meant they might be open to talking. She stood tall and assertive, looking the lead varou in the eye for a split second then spreading her arms wide and throwing her head back, exposing her neck in a posture of submission.
“I sobmit to the will of the pack and admit my inferiority to yoor mighty clan. I lay no claim here and wish only to pass throogh.” she cries out in her best attempt at the varou tongue.
“Yoo speak well for a hooman. So be it. We will not kill yoo now. By yoor ring yoo are one of the Ironsworn, yes?” the varou asks. She lowers her posture and nods. The varou continues, “Good, then yoo will swear os one of yoor vows to retorn to os the totem of oor people that was stolen from os, yes?”
She raises her hand in a fist and makes the vow, having no other option. The varou slink off into the woods, though she knows they will still be watching her. She returns to Shieldmoor and explains the situation, quickly discovering the totem had indeed been taken from the varou in a clash the previous year. It was now the prized possession of the priggish mayor. All attempts to convince him to give up his prize are met with stubborn refusal and mocking laughter. She goes to bed frustrated only to be aroused by the guards ringing the alarm bell. She snatches up her spear and belt and rushes outside.
She can now hear howls from beyond the wall and see’s the guards and militia rushing to line the pallisades built along the ruins of the ancient stone wall. The varou could wait no longer for the return of their totem and launched an attack on the settlement. She sees the mayor standing looking shocked in his nightgown in the middle of the street and implores him to give up the totem. He nods weakly, now terrified of this ferocious woman shouting at him in the midst of an attack. She rushes into his home and takes it up, running to the walls and raising the totem above her head in full sight of the varou attackers in the bright moonlight. As she raises it a shower of javelins assault the walls from the attackers below, one slicing along the side of her arm and causing her to drop the totem. It tumbles from her grasp, falling from the top of the wall to the ground below and breaking asunder.
A moment of silence spreads amongst the attackers, then their bloodcall roars out as they howl into the night and redouble their assault. From the screams below she realises they’ve breached the fortifications and she bounds down the steps to the courtyard below, lauching herself at the nearest snarling varou and piercing her spear through it’s throat. She pulls it you, whipping the shaft round to smash another in the face and thrust again at a third, dodging the claw strikes and javelins as she keeps moving, thrusting and stabbing and driving the attackers back with the aid of the guards and militia descending on the courtyard. She spots the lead varou who had confronted her before and runs at him, screaming her warcry and he turns with a snarl and launches himself at her. At the last moment as he leaps at her, she crouches down, sliding on her knees as she brings the spear up into the soft belly of the varou and running him through. She twists round with the momentum of the body pulls the spear from her hand and draws her sword. She stands astride the wounded leader and hacks down mightily with her sword, her veins and muscles bulging with the effort as she severs the beasts head from it’s shoulders in several powerful blows. She grabs the severed head by it’s braided main and shouts as loud as she can muster.
“I HAVE BESTED YOOR LEADER! YOO HAVE LOST THIS DAY! FLEE BACK TO YOOR DENS OR FACE OOR WRATH!”
The remaining varou stopped their assault abruptly, their howls turning mournful as they turned and fled back into the dark woods with their tails between their legs. A ragged cheer went up from the populace that turned into a powerful roar of victory. They cheered her actions that night and as they broke out the ale kegs to celebrate their victory, they did so with the name “Chandra” on their lips. The council, however, remain unconvinced, finding her behaviour erratic, and suspicious of the varou attacks so soon after her admitted dealings with them.
The morning brought ill news. Another Ironsworn, a hunter by the name of Sadia arrived seeking the same reward. Chandra suggested they join forces but the arrogant newcomer was keen to make a name for herself and set out alone.
Chandra continues on down the road herself, passing the first two days without incident. On the third day, she is set upon by another varou, a straggler from the battle of Shieldmoor seeking revenge. He surges out of the woods, leaping with claws splayed, but Chandra is quicker, bringing her spear round in an arc and thrusting it through the mouth of the onrushing beastman. She proceeds with more caution after that, but eventually reaches the ruined watchtower in the woods, still standing proud against the sky.
“You took your time,” Sadia, the other hunter emerges from the undergrowth, “I’ve scouted around, there’s signs of recent activity but it’s quiet now.”
Chandra stares down the newcomer with a hard gaze.
“Perhaps now we can work together, or you can get out of my way,” she says.
Sadia eyes her for a moment then nods.
“I’ll work with you, but an even split of the prize if we both get out alive.”
Chandra nods and starts advancing on the tower, Sadia doing the same off to the side, scowling at her competition. As they near the base of the tower a howling moan cuts through the air and a varou stumbles out of the woods, clutching their head and moaning. They look up at the approaching women and their yellow eyes become clouded over and their hands drop from the head. Their demeanor changes and they become aggressive, splaying the claws and charging with a growl. Sadia draws back her bow and fires an arrow that pierces it’s shoulder but it charges on, oblivious to the pain. It launches itself at her with a huge leap and they go down in a tangle of flesh and snarling fur.
Chandra screams her warcry and charges the writhing, entangled bodies, using the butt of her spear shaft to drive the raging beast from its prey before piercing it through the neck with the deadly point. She turns to her new companion and sees the varou has ripped chunks out of her arm and left deep scratches along her front. She pulls strips of cloth and a poultice from her knapsack and starts applying them prodigiously to Sadia’s wounds. The cuts are mostly superficial, but would leave her weak and unable to fight.
“Thank you for saving me, you could easily have run us both through for no risk to yourself. You have made a friend of me and I will watch your back. I may not be able to draw a bow for the moment but my eyes are clear and I will keep watch for you here,” she says, her voice a little shallow from the pain.
Chandra nods and after cleaning the blood off her spear with a cloth, sets forth towards the tower. She enters the stone arch to find a spiralling staircase ascending to the floor above. As she sets foot on the first step a wave of nausea washes over her as she feels an immense psychic pressure bearing down on her. A cloudiness drifts across her eyes and she grits her teeth, clutching her head from the searing pain. She feels the tendrils of darkness attempting to wrap themselves around her mind but she fights back, moving her hand to clutch her family broach and visualising the mountains, woods and coastlines of her homeland. The wave of possessive magic subsides.
She takes a breath and creeps onwards up the stairway, finding herself approaching a large open chamber. The occupant does not notice her approach, they are hunched over a strange device, a large crystal in a metal frame with metal arcs holding other smaller crystals dangling from them, embedded on a round wooden table. Chandra creeps forward leveling her spear tip at the figure’s face causing them to leap up and scream in surprise.
The figure is a small, lean woman with sharp eyes. She regains her composure and leans forward to touch the device but the spear tip is pushed closer, hovering right before her face. She pulls back with a grimace of irritation.
“Who are you and what are you doing in this place?” Chandra’s question causes the lean woman’s brow to furrow in anger.
“Who am I?! Who are you to come here and make demands of me?!”
“I asked first,” the spear tip holds steady a short distance from the woman’s face.
“Very well, if you must know,” she smiles broadly, without mirth, a hint of madness in her eyes.
“I am Morgan, some call me the Enchantress,” her smile turns coy, “once Mayor of Shieldmoor before that greasy faced swine ousted me. The fools there took me for granted, never understood what I was trying to do for them. They’ll learn though. When the trade dries up, when they become poor, hungry and isolated, they’ll turn on that fool of a Mayor and realise what they lost when they drove me out. Then they’ll beg me to come back.”
She laughs, a cold hacking laugh.
The spear point dips to indicate the device for a moment before moving back up.
“And this?”
“Ah that fool, Bevan, the overseer of the Frostfall Excavation, he dug it up and had no idea what he had. Thought it a pretty ornament, I convinced him to gift it to me to win my favour. I knew what it was. I had studied the writings of the ancients and knew they imbued such devices with mystical energies beyond our ken.”
“The possessed varou?”
“Yes! The device gives those who know how to use it the power to bend others to their will. I have an entire clan of them at my beck and call, and they will be returning here to rend you limb from limb at any moment.”
“No, you’re coming with me to face justice.”
“I could go with you… or I could hire you. You seem resistant to the device’s energies, but I have acquired much wealth and resources from the caravans and raids. I could use someone like you as a bodyguard.”
“Tempting as your offer is, I cannot trust you not to feed me to your pet Varou the moment I become an inconvenience. Let’s go.”
A prod with the spear gets her moving as a call echos up from Sadia below, “We have company!”
Chandra pushes Morgan ahead of her down the stairway, keeping the spear tip levelled at the small of her back as they descend.
“Keep an eye on her,” she says to Sadia once she reaches the bottom, who draws her blade and holds it to the enchantress’ neck.
Looking outside, Chandra spots a large group of varou, too many to fight, advancing on the tower led from the front by a huge chieftain with heavily scarred arms and wearing a large helmet decorated with deer antlers. Clearly the “monster” reported by survivors of the raids. She cannot tell from this distance, but suspects their eyes bear the same cloudy aspect of the one they fought earlier.
“I’ll be back in a moment”, she calls to Sadia as she runs upstairs to the chamber again. Raising the butt of her spear high, she brings it down as hard as she can on the large crystal, the impact reverberating through her iron thews. Her effort is rewarded as cracks spider their way across the impact point. Striking again and again she shatters the crystal and batters and bends the arcs around it. Running to the window and looking out, the Varou are now milling about in confusion, howling, some clutching their heads.
“BEHOLD THE CAUSE OF YOOR TORMENT!” she cries.
The shout gets their attention and turning she lifts the device, muscles bulging at the weight of the dense wooden table and metal frame, heaving it out the window. It tumbles once, slowly, during the fall then shatters upon the ground with an almighty crash. A great howl goes up from the Varou punctuated by a scream of rage from Morgan, cut off as Sadia pushes the blade slightly more heavily against her throat.
She runs downstairs and out to face the gathered varou, motioning to Sadia to bring Morgan out. The huge varou in the antler helmet strides forward, his eyes clear.
“Yoo have done os good service. This vile homan used her dark magiks to enslave oor clan and reduce os to dishonoorable bandits. This is not oor way. I am Drehko, chief of the Stone Watch Clan. Now hand her over and we will end this.” He holds out a huge hairy paw towards Morgan.
“No, we have been sent to bring her to justice, if we return empty handed how will we prove the attacks are over?” Chandra insists.
“Very well, we will leave yoo her body to take back with yoo. We most have oor blood debt paid thoogh.”
He steps forward expectantly and begrudgingly Morgan is shoved over. He grabs her writhing form and raises it up, turning to show the clan. A howl goes up that he joins in, then abruptly turns Morgan to face him and rips her throat out with his teeth. He throws her body to the ground and howls again, blood coating his lips and fangs.
After the howls die down he turns again.
“We owe yoo a debt. We will return the stolen sopplies to Shieldmoor with yoo, thoogh we cannot retorn those who are now dead. Yoo will be ever welcome in the dens and forests of oor clan.”
The two Ironsworn return to Shieldmoor, protected by the Stone Watch Clan who also carry back the looted supplies. The council are initially sceptical but accept the story once presented the evidence and while the outcome is not what they expected, they pay the reward and send word that the trade routes are safe once more. Drehko swears that his clan will protect the routes for one year, to pay off their debt of dishonour and after a night of raucous drinking in celebration they all part ways. Chandra sets off looking for fresh adventure.
Game Notes
I used a mix of Ironsworn, Delve and Ironsmith (a fan made supplement) for this game. I used some oracles and table to roll up the type of monster and the situation and started the game. Bold Text relate to rolls results and oracles. Italic Text relates to general thoughts I jotted down about what some of the outcomes could mean. This was played over a few sessions or ad hoc as I had a moment to play out a move, so some notes are more detailed than others.
Destroyed needed supplies, Hinterlands, edge of civilisation, this monster is attacking and killing caravans and they’re missing out on vital deliveries of tools and equipment.
Guards posted, but people panicked and scared and they’re too few to guard the road in any strength.
Giant humanoid, strong with horns/tusks, tail, intimidating. Cross between a giant and a bull? Or antlers? Could be a deer cross, would fit with the giant theme, potentially some sort of curse?
Vow to make the way safe for trade again.
Swear Vow: Weak, Journey, Safety
Is there more to this? I traveled here safely and saw no sign of monster attacks.
Gather information: Strong, Find, Ruin
Ask around and discover reports that there is a ruined watchtower some distance from here, on a small hill in the woods, with views over the road. Three or four days travel.
Talisman: Strong Hit, +2 against monsters of this nature.
Undertake journey, troublesome.
Strong Hit: Guard, Knowledge
Is it a guard with some knowledge or something guarding some ancient knowledge?
Come across a large camp spread out around the base of a large ice sheet on a cliff face. There’s ongoing excavation work to uncover it’s secrets. The leader of the expedition believes there to be an archive of ancient knowledge under the ice and is working to uncover it. The leader seems incompetent but wealthy enough to fund such a large camp.
Gather information: Weak, Journey, Enemy
Asking around they know if the watchtower and the attacks on the caravans, indeed they have been needing supplies too and are keen to see it dealt with, however, the path there goes through a wood that is crawling with Varou. Better to take the long way round the road .
Increase difficulty, taking the long way round.
Undertake journey after resting the night in the camp. Miss. New foe.
Varou. As skirting the forest three Varou emerge from the trees ahead and flanking. Challenge your presence in their territory.
Using what I know of Varou culture stand tall and assertive, then spread arms and lean back exposing throat and chest.
Secure Advantage: Weak
“I sobmit to the will of the pack and admit my inferiority. I lay no claim here and wish only to pass throogh.” In best attempt at Varou tongue.
Compel, Weak, Restore, Prize
Something that has been taken from them?
A totem of their people had been stolen and taken to Shieldmoor, but the settlement is too well fortified to attack. If I return the totem to them they will allow passage through their territory.
Swear vow: Weak.
Return to Shieldmoor.
Gather Information: Miss with match.
Discover the totem is owned by the Mayor of Shieldmoor and is his prized possession.
Find and talk to him that evening. Explain the situation. Ask him to give it up.
Compel: Miss. He refuses. New danger or foe.
Alarms are shouted outside. A raid! The Varou decided to attack anyway, not trusting me to do the job.
Threaten Mayor if he doesn’t give it up then the town may be burned to the ground.
Compel: Strong hit. He gives up the totem.
Run to the walls and present the totem overhead shouting for them to stop fighting. The Varou bloodcalls are loud.
Fulfill Vow: Miss. Finish, Superstition. Forsake Vow.
Take an spear across arm. Drop totem from wall and it smashes, enraging the Varou further. They launch an attack.
Enter the Fray: Weak, Take Initiative
Strike: Strong hit x 3
Dive into the fight, stabbing around like a maniac, killing Varou everywhere.
Run the leader through, hack off head and raise above head screaming.
Secure Advantage: Strong
Forge a Bond: Weak
Sojourn: Weak
Rest and heal up for the night before preparing to set off in the morning.
Undertake Journey: Miss, search, creature
Someone else arrives having heard the call to hunt the monster. They are determined to find it and gain the reward.
Ask them to join forces.
Compel: Miss. They refused.
Start menace that they’re now racing you to deal with it.
Undertake journey: Weak
Undertake journey: Weak
Undertake journey: Miss, complication, uphold battle, aid an enemy
Ambushed by a Varou straggler.
Battle: Strong Hit
Easily fight them off but the delay gives Sadia the other hunter an advantage. Advance Menace
Undertake Journey: Strong.
Complete Journey: Strong, match.
Arrive at the ruined watchtower, coast is clear.
Gather Information. Miss, Match. Someone returns unexpectedly.
Sadia, the other hunter, has arrived already and begun scouting the area. She stands in opposition to progress. Stare her down and threaten.
Compel: Weak, share, prize
She agrees not to stand in the way but wants to work together after seeing what was done to the varou, but wants to split the winnings.
Proceed into the ruins and look around.
Gather Information: Strong. Uncover. Quest.
Find key information about quest?
Resist. Possession.
Someone or something is using some form of sourcery to possess others.
As we advance towards the ruined tower we spot a Varou, doubled over on the path, clutching their head and groaning. They look up, their yellow eyes shimmering with cloudy grey. Their head jerks back and they howl then forward again, their eyes clouded over, their face vacant of expression.
Sadia calls out that she’s seen this before, mystical possession, and starts firing her bow at the Varou.
Battle: Weak. Friend or companion put in harm’s way.
The Varou charges at Sadia, ignoring the arrows she fires into it and leaps on her. Run over and use the butt of the spear to lever it off her then spinning the shaft round, drive the tip through its neck.
Turning to Sadia she has a deep gash across her chest and a chunk torn out of her arm by the Varou’s teeth.
Heal: Strong hit.
While the wounds looked messy, they’re largely superficial and nothing internal was damaged. Once they’re bound up, Sadia is able to stand, though is unable to draw her bow or fight. She agrees to stand watch at the entrance and warn of anything comes through.
Forge Bond. Strong Hit with Match.
Sadia thanks you for saving her and you clasp forearms, staring into each others eyes and knowing that despite your rivalry, there is still a bond there.
Set off into the tower.
Face Danger: Miss.
Stepping into the tower there is a powerful mystical energy that descends, searing into the skull and fighting for control of the senses.
Endure Stress: Weak Press on.
The mystical force saps at the will but can be resisted and you push on, climbing the winding staircase to the open chamber halfway up the tower.
Delve threat. Scheming leader. Incite conflict.
Is it the frostfall camp overseer? No.
Character: Morgan. Stealthy, Aggressive, Threatening. Seize power.
Related in some way to the mayor of Shieldmoor? Yes.
A small lean woman is hunched over a round wooden desk with a large crystal in the centre and rotating arches around it with more, smaller crystals dangling off them.
Face Danger: Strong hit.
She doesn’t notice the stranger sneaking up from the stairwell until the spear point is hovering in front of her face. She leaps back in terror and screams out, then attempts to step forward to touch the device again but the spear tip keeps her at bay.
“Who are you and what are you doing in this place?” The question causes the lean woman’s brow to furrow in anger.
“Who am I?! Who are you to come here and make demands of me?!”
“I asked first” the spear tip holds steady a short distance from the woman’s face.
Compel: Strong hit. Match.
“Very well, if you must know.” She smiles broadly, without mirth, a hint of madness in her eyes.
“I am Morgan, some call me the Enchantress”, her smile turns coy, “Once Mayor of Shieldmoor before the greasy faced swine ousted me. The fools there took me for granted, never understood what I was trying to do for them. They’ll learn though. When the trade dries up, when they become poor, hungry and isolated, they’ll turn on that fool of a Mayor and realise what they lost when they drove me out. Then they’ll beg me to come back.”
She laughs, a cold hacking laugh.
The spear point dips to indicate the device for a moment before moving back up. “And this?”
“Ah that fool, Bevan, the overseer of the Frostfall Excavation, he dug it up and had no idea what he had. Thought it a pretty ornament, I convinced him to gift it to me to win my favour. I knew what it was. I had studied the writings of the ancients and knew they imbued such devices with mystical energies beyond our ken.”
“The processed Varou?”
“Yes! The device gives those who know how to use it the power to bend others to their will. I have an entire clan of them at my beck and call, and they will be returning here to rend you limb from limb at any moment.”
“No, you’re coming with me to face justice.”
Compel: Weak.
“I could go with you… or I could hire you. You seem resistant to the device’s energies, but I have acquired much wealth and resources from the caravans and raids. I could use someone like you as a bodyguard.”
Does she take the bribe? Very unlikely. No, though only just.
“Tempting as your offer is, I cannot trust you not to feed me to your pet Varou the moment I become an inconvenience. Let’s go.”
A prod with the spear gets her moving.
Have the Varou arrived? 100% yes.
A call from below as Sadia bellows up that there is company coming.
Getting to the bottom steps, shove Morgan against the wall.
“Keep an eye on her”
Sadia draws her short sword and holds it against Morgan’s neck with her good arm. Looking outside a large group of Varou, too many to fight, are advancing on the tower led from the front by a huge Varou with heavily scarred arms and wearing a large helmet decorated with deer antlers, clearly the “monster” reported by survivors of the raids.
Can’t tell from this distance but their eyes likely have the same clouded look of possession.
“I’ll be back in a moment”, run upstairs to the chamber again and see the device. Raise the butt of the spear and bring it down heavily on the crystal at the centre.
Face danger: Strong hit.
Cracks spider their way across the impact point. Striking again and again shatters the crystal and the arcs around it. Running to the window and looking out, the Varou are now milling about in confusion, howling, some clutching their heads.
“BEHOLD THE CAUSE OF YOUR TORMENT”
The shout gets their attention and turning to lift the device with both arms, heave it out the window. It tumbles once, slowly during the fall then shatters upon the ground with an almighty crash. A great howl goes up from the Varou punctuated by a scream of rage from Morgan, cut off as Sadia pushes the blade slightly more heavily against her throat.
Running downstairs and out to face the Varou, indicating to Sadia to bring Morgan out.
The huge Varou in the antler helmet strides forward, his eyes clear.
“Yoo have done os good service. This vile hooman used her dark magiks to enslave oor clan and reduce os to dishonoorable bandits. This is not oor way. I am Drehko, chief of the Stone Watch Clan. Now hand her over and we will end this.”
He holds out a paw towards Morgan.
“No, we have been sent to bring her to justice, if we return empty handed how will we prove the attacks are over?”
Compel: Weak.
“Very well, we will leave yoo her body to take back with yoo. We most have oor blood debt paid thoogh.”
He steps forward expectantly and begrudgingly Morgan is shoved over. He grabs her writhing firm and raises it up, turning to show the clan. A howl goes up that he joins in, then abruptly turns Morgan to face him and rips her throat out with his teeth. He throws her body to the ground and howls again, blood coating his lips and fangs.
After the howls die down he turns again.
“We owe yoo a debt. We will return the stolen sopplies to Shieldmoor with yoo, thoogh we cannot retorn those who are now dead.”
Forge Bond: Strong hit.
“Yoo will be ever welcome in the dens and forests of oor clan.”
Fulfil Vow: Strong hit.
Return to Shieldmoor and explain the situation and ask that happened. Drehko swears an oath that they will leave the caravans in peace and as a way to regain clan honour promises to protect the caravan routes for the next year to ensure trade is re-established. Shieldmoor is happy with this outcome and rewards your efforts, along with a bonus from the supplies returned and some extra for Sadia.
Chandra will return in new adventures….
we all have our roles to play 