Veils and Crossings (was: Shadow over Felthera) - StalkingBlue's Midnight game

[StalkingBlue]

[Pallas's account, by Pallas's player: ]

Neither Jana or Jezzt saw my thought. No matter. It wouldn’t be the last time. They preferred their tactics. Charge and hope. Break the doors down. Kill everything.

We hurried out of the village on horseback. The mansion was a few miles away, on a hilltop. Little cover around. A road lined with trees led up to it. As we hurried cross-country, we found some villagers. They were on their way to the mansion to report what had happened. They were told to go back. I was puzzled. A brief time before Zana had called the whole village collaborators and condemned them all to death. Now she was letting two confirmed traitors go. I didn’t understand.

We approached. Then we waited until darkness fell. Apari moved forward, unseen. A little time later he came back. There were seven orcs outside the front door and a light coming from the front of the first floor. A quick discussion and Apari left again. He would stalk unseen through the battlefield and help us. He guaranteed the orcs wouldn’t see him. A little time later with started to pick up speed. Then it became a full canter. We fell upon the orcs quickly. Jezzt fought like she was possessed. She moved in a blur. I had never seen anyone move so fast. Everytime she struck an orc it fell. Zana and her horse also stomped into the orcs. My horse shied but I hit the enemy. A few moments later there were several orc corpses and two running orcs. Zana and Jezzt approached the door. They both gave it terrible blows and it splintered. Rapidly they both moved in. I was still finishing the last orc but I caught a glimpse of Jezzt’s face. It was dead. She was living in the world of the dead. Then the whole front room of the building was filled with a grey sticky mass. Strands everywhere. Magic! They enveloped Jezzt. She was stuck fast. I couldn’t see Jana. She had moved on ahead. Jezzt struggled with all her strength. She couldn’t move.

Then six more orcs came around the corner. Reinforcements. Apari hadn’t scouted the whole building. The came out in a disciplined formation and threw their javelins. They were woeful. One scratched me. Jana and Jezzt were both helpless. I readied myself for the fight. I had a couple of tricks. I broke a charm, my only one. Drawing their vardatches, they charged me. I fenced with them. They got in each other’s way. I used old tricks. Shield fencing. Positioning the horse. It was working. They couldn’t hit me but I was hitting them. Verity was helping me. She had been hurt at the beginning but now she looked healthy.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Zana reach us. Her clothes were blackened as if she had been burnt. She dealt an orc a fearful blow. Then I saw Jezzt tear herself out of the grey sticky mass and stumble out of the room. Then it disappeared. There was a flash of light, which left both Zana and Jezzt reeling, unable to react. A large plains cat jumped on Jezzt and it was followed two orcs. Unable to defend herself, she took dreadful blows and then fell down. She was dead. The cat moved forward and pawed the air just behind corpse. Its blow met resistance and there was an angry cry.

I was still fighting orcs. Then, from above, a slimy, oily voice directed an incantation at me. I ignored it. It couldn’t see me. Another orc fell. The cat chased down the road, trying to find something. Zana fought the orcs. Another incantation came down from the mansion. This one saw me. I couldn’t move. Then the very grass under my horses hooves wrapped itself around its legs.

“Surrender!” cried the slimy voice.

Zana looked around. I could see what she could. Both Verity and I and our horses were motionless. Two orcs were holding vardatches to Jezzt’s body, ready to plunge. The big cat was chasing something only it could see. She threw down her sword.

Then, a moment later both the horse and I were free of our enchantments. I rode hard. Out of there. Away from the mansion. I made sure there was no pursuit. Then I turned South. The hills were my best chance. Then, I heard another horse behind me. It was Apari. We looked at each other.

I said: “To the hills”.

We both set off at a gallop. Zana and Jezzt were dead. Bernt would be happy. Two less mouths to feed.

 

[StalkingBlue]

Here's a vision Zana received just as the PCs were spurring their horses up to attack the mansion.

'From a scarcely moonlit night, you are suddenly bathed in dazzling sunlight, which leaps off the whitewashed walls of the house towards which you are riding. Gulls circle overhead and the sea thunders somewhere beyond. Brilliantly white dust rises from your horses' hooves, dust of a colour you, Zana, have never seen, but here, now, it is familiar, it means home.

As you approach, men crouched along the wall start scrambling to their feet picking up lumps and rolls of baggage. You know they are a dirty rabble - murderers, thieves, rapists, the lot. You also know they are the best you are going to get to embark to go and conquer those faraway shores.

In a blinding flash of sunlight, the scene dissolves, and you are back on the dirt road riding to the charge with Jez and your companions, fallen a couple of horse lenghts behind probably as you pulled up in surprise rather than because the vision itself had taken any time.'

 

[randomling]

Jez's Story

Finally, we're riding south in pursuit of the Earthlight. Glancing at Zana, our horses in step as we canter away from the village, I feel hopeful, strong, crackling with energy. The air's cleared since our argument, and the space between us feels like the sky after a thunderstorm - fresh and clean, alive with the smell of ozone.

The terrain is as Verity told us. We reach the edge of the trees as the sky starts to darken above us. Apari switches weapons with me, my ordinary bow for his enchanted one. It's a decision that's to save his life.

We stop, in range of the mansion and out of the orcs' sight. The four warriors - myself, Zana, Pallas, Verity - stay mounted. Apari ties his horse to a tree stump and disappears from view with a spell. He takes in the distance from our stopping-point to the building, then his voice addresses Zana: "Count to thirty, and then charge."

Zana nods.

I tense, bunching the reins in my hands as I listen to Zana count under her breath.

Twenty-five - we draw weapons.

Thirty - we spur our horses on.

And we're galloping forward. My short hair sweeps back behind my head. Suddenly I feel Zana's presence go from my side, and, disconcerted, I glance behind. Just a few paces back, she grins at me and salutes. Kursu is gleaming in the last glimmers of sunlight. Soon her horse is beside mine again, keeping pace, right where it should be.

Then we're upon them, and they're upon us. Orcs.

The customary panic of battle washes over me as I deal the first blow. It's my dirty secret, the one thing I'll never share with Zana: I fear death. But this time the panic sinks away as suddenly as it took me over, and there is nothing left in the world but me and my enemy. I strike truer and harder and faster than I have in my life, and in seconds the ground around us is littered with orc bodies. Zana looks at me approvingly as we both dismount and make for the mansion's front door.

Together, Kursu and Tunner take the door down. I step inside; Zana makes for the stairs. As she sets foot on the bottom step, the room fills with sticky strands that bind us both tightly to the spot.

Web. I've seen Apari do this.

I struggle, and Zana burns her way out. Outside, there are sounds of further battle - the rest of the orcs - and more orcs appear at the other end of the room. As Zana and I escape, we're hit with another of Apari's favourite spells, the patterns stopping us momentarily in our tracks.

Orcs - a plains cat, no doubt the demon of the legate in charge - the legate - the channeller. It's too much. Apari stitches my wounds with a spell, but it draws the magehunter's attention and it goes for him. I can't see him, or what it does to him, but I hear him whisper, "Sorry," and disappear.

It's down to two of us, Zana and me, back to back. I look at her, and down at my gaping wounds as the fear comes flooding back. I bite it down and force a grin in Zana's direction, knowing I can't swing again and stay standing. It's over, I think - fight together, die together.

"See you in the next life, girl," I say to Zana.

Seemingly almost independent of me, Tunner slashes forward, but pain grips me like a vice and I strike at pure air. My last sight is Zana's eyes, bright and dark, shot through with defiance and fear.

My last thought is that I never told her I was sorry.

 

[StalkingBlue]

We're not playing tonight, so no Story Hour in the works ...
Instead, here's some bits of background info I e-mailed to S'mon for his PC Zana.



Hm, let me see. You know a few names already: Bendo, Zoidan (currently out of commission but who cares). The people at Cpt. Bernt's camp. There's Pug in Saddler's Inn; and Naith (guy escorting Kiriel) mentioned a man in Hamra named Gabe. Jan Wym the Trader of course.


There's no one 'resistance movement' among humans, just numbers of splinter groups, truncated structures, individuals. Things are in flux all the time because people get caught, betrayed, killed or simply give up and sit down to die, while others take the step of no return and become outlaws themselves, or might lend a helping hand when (they hope) no one's watching.

Felthera Valley:
The immediate area you are currently in (western Felthera Valley up to Black Weir) is too heavily occupied and patrolled by orcs to support larger outlaw bands. It's terrain for mobile, small-size groups such as yours or Verity and Martherin's at best - and not even that after things have been stirred up a bit, which will likely draw massive pursuit and retaliation from camps and forts in the area; with the only question being how fast. You weren't even aware of any other groups operating in the area, until Cpt. Bernt put you into contact with Verity.

Regions around Felthera Valley, river and then counter-clockwise:

Felthera River:
Many gnomes trading up and down Felthera will smuggle outlawed merchandise or resistance fighters. There are signals by which they identify themselves to people seeking aid, but you don't know what they are.

South:
Here resistance has crumbled and been pushed back further south lately, what with your father's band wiped out and a line of new fortresses built/under construction. You know of one large mounted Sarcosan band that operates or used to operate way further south on the western plains around Cambrial, led by one Inren last you heard. Inren had considerably more men than Lord Than, yet they are all middle-aged or aging and your father didn't think much of them, too encrusted in their own suffering and martyrdom in his opinion.
There used to be an Erenlander caravan merchant / swordfighter / smuggler, Tissa Sharpe, who travelled through your father's territory once or twice a year, with a number of secretly armed guards. She hasn't been yeen in at least a year and a half, probably due to losing contacts and safe routes up north to the expanding Shadow forces.

East:
There appear to be two unrelated or competing layers/circles of halfway organised resistance in Hamra, at least one of which - rumour has it - has suffered some drastic setbacks earlier this year (through infighting?), but the Greater Legate Jahzael Al'Maeera at Eisin (Eisin = next town further east, Al'Maeera = an ancient Sarcosan noble name) has not been able to wipe them out yet.
There's some secret about how to get into and out of Hamra, apparently without using the gates (?!). You don't know any names for Hamra except Gabe's, who may or may not be part of local resistance circles.

North:
There's strong resistance in Baden's Bluff, large city on the coast of the Sea of Pelluria - apparently members of House Baden still survive and instigate acts of terror and sabotage in the city.

West:
There's a string of human camps just inside Erethor, similar to Dargham's Folly. You haven't been in any of the others, they tend to be hidden well away from the through-going paths, and sentries will escort you through their territory and put you in contact with the outlying sentries of the next camp along. As a rule strangers will be allowed into Bernt's camp only as an exception, and then only disarmed and often bound and blindfolded.

As far as you know there's no overall command structure, camps operate on their own with combatants free to offer their services somewhere else if they've fallen out with their current crowd, they are caught by wanderlust (orcmen bands especially) or things grow too 'hot' - which is one of the more pressing problems of Bernt's currently. Since the fighting along the river has picked up, the area has grown a lot more dangerous and even less well able to feed the camp population because all the forest south of camp is off-limits for hunting or foraging (because of marauding oruk/orcs).

On a side note, there are ways in which Erethor protects itself - eg through flesh-eating plants and animals, which you haven't encountered but Jez and Loren have. There's also something called the Whisper, which you don't know much about. It's an elf thing and related to elves hating people cutting trees down to build better defences.

Also on a side note, presumably the Elves are still more centralised and organised in their own defence than the shattered human societies (being sorta grouped around the Witch Queen), but you don't know any details.

 

[StalkingBlue]

[Pallas's account, by Pallas's player: ]

Apari woke me up. It was still night. Little time had passed. He showed me his arm. A thin black chain was wrapped around it. It was tightening of its own volition. I looked at him. I didn’t know what he wanted. It was his chain. Carefully he unwound and dropped it. I hit it with my vardatch. Then I stopped. The chain was harder. Apari looked at it again. He picked it up and wound it around his arm. It tightened again. He said he felt better. He put his sleeve over it. It disappeared from my sight. Then he said he felt fine. I looked at him. This was strange. I had never seen or heard of anything like that. But he was an elf. Elves were strange. Maybe it was something elvish.

I was settling back to sleep when he shook me again. We should go back to the mansion. He said he felt well now, capable of doing his magic. I didn’t know how he had done that. Didn’t want to know. Zana and Jez were dead and the legate still had the earthlight crystal. Many of his guard were dead. He and his channeler had cast some magic already. They would be weakened. We would never get a better opportunity.

We gathered the horses. As we did so, Apari pointed. In the distance, silhouetted against the moonlight, figures were coming this way. They knew we were here. They must have trackers. Stealth was pointless. We mounted and rode fast. Towards the mansion. Apari was bursting with confidence. Unseen, he would sneak into the mansion and look. Then he would get me and together we would assault the remaining enemy.

We stopped a few hundred yards away from the building. He left. I waited. A little later he came back. He told me he had left a back door open. This led into a large room full of horses. The horses were restless and would help in masking any sound I made. He didn’t make any. We approached. It was as he said. Closer to the house, he became unseen. I entered the house and stayed out of sight next to a set of stairs going up. I waited for him to call. I had a little time to look around. A bare room. It smelt of horses. There were four of them, one a little bigger than the others. The orcs were no stable hands. Looking a little closer I saw a sword on the bigger horse. It was Zana’s. I moved over there and took it. Then I moved back. Still no call.

Suddenly, a mass of grey sticky strands erupted from the stairs. Apari had told me about the web magic. I thought it was the halfling channeler but I heard no call. I moved up the stairs. A little inside the webbed area I saw the large plains cat. It was struggling inside the webs. I drew my bow. Then a nightmare. A horrific translucent creature emerged from the cat. It was indescribable. As if made from many parts of animals and other creatures. It opened its mouth and screamed. I lost control of my body. I ran. As fast as I could. Out of the mansion, into the fields. Then I heard hooves behind me. They were getting closer. Still I ran. The big horse ran by me, kicking out as it did. It was mad. Its teeth were bared. It was lathered and its eyes were rolling. I regained control. Something may have been inside that horse it still fought like an animal. A little later it was dead. It did manage to kick me a couple of times. Mostly it left bloody marks on my shield and sword as it hurled itself against me.

I ran back to the mansion. I found the web was gone. I heard Apari’s voice. I moved towards it. Up the stairs, following a hallway, then left. Then I entered a lit room. I was surprised. Zana was alive. So was Verity. The oily voiced legate and the fat, spell-casting halfling were sprawled in the wreckage of a room full of books. The legate’s stomach had been ripped out. Jez was also lying on the floor near the doorway, dead. I didn’t say anything. It was better not to at these times. I had seen it before. People losing friends. I just gave Zana her sword. She thanked me. Then she grieved. Apari moved around silently. He had been around the house. Whispering, he asked me what happened to the mage hunter. I presumed he meant the translucent thing. I told him I killed it. Later I needed to ask him what that was. I would tell him what had happened. Apari moved around, searching the legate. He found the crystal. Then we stood silently. A little later, Apari whispered to Zana. She shook herself, wordlessly moved aside and turned her back. Apari took a sword and decapitated Jez. He moved out of the room. Then I picked her up and took her downstairs. Apari was already there. He had another halfling with him. He looked terrified. Mounting the horses, we left the building. Then we dug a grave.

I thought. We had the make several decisions. I still wanted to destroy the temple. Apari had an amazing ability to sneak around unseen, which was the core of the idea for the temple. The halfling Apari had found had been to the location of the temple. If we were lucky he might even have been inside the building. I didn’t know how strong Apari felt about his magic. I didn’t know how strong Zana was after her ordeal. We had a company of orcs behind us with trackers. Soon this place would be roiling with Shadow. So the question was: Rest or go to the Temple now?

I also thought about Jez. I didn’t know how she died. Zana hadn’t spoken since we left the mansion. Maybe she would tell me, maybe she wouldn’t. I hadn’t known Jez well. She had a good swordarm and she was amazingly fast. She cared about people. There was a time I did as well. Then they all died. Her face would join the many I often saw at night.

 

[randomling]

I'm shaking as I bathe. Terrified. Hot water, soap, strange scents - I can't get my mind off the act I'm putting on, how I can't see any way to carry it off. Zana could do it. Zana's brave and tough. Vorne is going to see through me in a second. And kill me the second after.

They've put the awful cat-thing inside with me. I can't help thinking it's watching me, and I shiver more despite the warm water, taking as long as I can to wash, avoiding my wounds with the soap, biting my lip against the painful movements. The water darkens with my blood.

When I get out, I see they've laid fresh clothes for me on the floor. Black of course, too big, shaped for a man, the fabric light and slippery. I pull on my armour and slip the clothes over them. Even armoured, I feel vulnerable, unprotected. Alone. Where is Zana, I wonder? What happened to Pallas? Is Apari alive?

So many questions.

Dressed, I affect what I think is a Legate's stance - back straight, head up, face set despite my aching wounds - and march into the bedroom where the redheaded woman is waiting. She rubs some oil on my face, and I feel myself squirm inside even as it heals me. Shadow magic. I quiz her, feeling brutal. Then I walk to the library and, with a deep breath, head inside.

Vorne is waiting. Suddenly I'm cold.

There are books everywhere. I think of Tane and Loren, both scholars, reading men who would have loved the chance to get at some of the knowledge inside them. Both dead now, among the host of people I imagine watching over me. I'm nothing but an illiterate peasant girl, no match for a Legate. I'm craving Zana. I wish she could tell me what to do.

I sit down, and Vorne comes to sit near me. He's like oil, greasy and cool, and as we talk I want to do nothing but wash him off me. There's strong drink in crystal glasses and a strange toast. I feel like a traitor making it, but I stay strong. Think tough. Think of Zana, I keep saying to myself. I think of Bendo, too, of his band and their rough honest ways: food and drink, a floor to sleep on, straight talk, and all around me men and women prepared to die for the same reasons as me.

Well, here's the test, Jezzan Hest. Are you really prepared to die for the things you said you'd die for?

He sees through me. Of course he does. I look into his smug face, feel the room full of his oily presence and the dark of the Shadow, and I promise he'll never break me. Not now, not ever. He stands behind me, fingers digging into my shoulders. I concentrate on the pain in my side, and the wounds become my strength. I think of anything but him, drawing my mind away from his oily voice, from the quaking inside me.

Then I hear it.

Footfalls.

Orc shout.

Sword strike.

Zana.

My heart almost splits for joy. I want to leap up, yell her name, punch the air; but I'm a fortress, a stone tower; impenetrable and ice cold. Vorne grips me tighter. An orc comes to put his vardatch at my throat; the cat goes; orders are shouted; my heart thumps in my hears. I'm listening for Zana. I want to hear her voice, her walk, Kursu's blade singing.

She's on my mind. I think back three nights, to sitting up on watch, mind racing as it always seems to late at night. Zana was sleeping by my side. She seemed so much part of the earth. As I watched her, I thought how strong we were together - where she is earth, solid and tough, I am the sky, faster and lighter than Zana. Now, I think, I have to be earth, and let Zana be sky for once. I'm gazing at the horizon now, watching for the first light of dawn after a long, cold night.

"You have one chance to get out of here alive - your guards are dead - let her go and we will let you go."

My Zana. My sister.

She's got them on the run - Vorne's nervous again, uncertain, and my heart skips in my chest. Apari's there too, his voice shouting Zana's name in jubilation, but I'm a wall. Zana talks. Vorne responds. I'm not listening to their words, I'm too dazed and happy to do anything but bask in the sound of Zana's voice. I'm walked to the door with the orc, vardatch still at my throat, and though I can't see her I can sense where she is - behind the door, out of spell range, smart girl. Close enough, almost, to reach out and grab.

Apari appears from behind the door, and I see it in his eyes - there's a plan. He looks at me questioningly. I nod my head. He starts to cast a spell, and the orc's grip tightens on me.

I can't see Zana, and in the moment before he slits my throat I know I never will. So I picture her, her dark eyes shining with humour, her cocky grin, Kursu gleaming in the sunlight. She'll carry on beyond me. She'll be there to remember me.

It's a comfort. I hold onto that.

 

[StalkingBlue]

[Here's the letter Pallas found in the saddlebags of Vorne's dead horse: ]

[Painstakingly scratched into the carefully folded and sealed parchment in Erenlander]


To Benjen Ottie, Prelate


By the Grace of Izrador, Lord of Eredane, Shadow over All, Devourer of Life, Bringer of Fire, etc. and so on
Under the Authority of His Most Majestic Holiness Sunulael, Priest of Shadow
Jahzel Al’Maeera, Greater Legate, Eisin

We Hereby Do Appoint Entrust and Command The Carrier of This Present

Temple Legate Fifth Rank Vorne Everett

With and To the Post of Treasurer at the Temple of Serpent’s Rock
To Be Accredited Confirmed and Initiated At Your Earliest


Given and Sealed This 12th Night 9th Month 99th Year of the True God’s Reign


[Arrogant scrawl in a different hand: ]
Jahz

 

[StalkingBlue]

[Game intro for returning PC Keeran and new PC Katrin: ]

Keeran - You return to Dargham's Folly after months of absence to find some familiar faces, many new and desperate ones, and Captain Bernt as usual in a great hurry to talk to you.

Katrin - You're newly arrived in Dargham's Folly and have offered your services to Captain Bernt, who up north has a reputation as a competent fighting man, but seems harrassed and stressed as you meet him. He seems to have forgotten you immediately after your introduction, which was brief and interlaced with barked curses and orders from Bernt to fatigued-looking people appearing and disappearing in his doorway. You haven't seen any group worth latching onto during the three days you've been in camp and out on various patrols, and might be considering considering leaving to drift further south and see whether you can find a more promising spot (surely there must be _someone_ in this forest who'll appreciate your superb fighting skills?), when on the fourth morning you're summoned to Bernt's command hut by a half-grown, hollow-cheeked girl sloshing around in her far-too-big suit of scale mail.

As you two step inside, Bernt glances up from his map, looks again as if lost as to why you're here and runs a hand across his eyes. (Keeran - he looks more tired than you've ever seen him, almost hollow. Although that may just be the effect of your having spent months among the always smooth-looking Elves.)

"Keeran - condolences on your loss," Bernt says, averts his eyes and hurries on. "Two days ago," he says, "I sent Zana and Jez and two others out into the plains, to ally with a friendly group and set up a surprise greeting for the Legates at a new temple site: here." He stubs a square finger against some hill-shaped squiggles on his old, mouse-nibbled leather map. "Unfortunately, our intelligence appears to have been - incomplete. There are indications that the area is much less safe than expected, indeed that the group I put them in contact with may have been betrayed. They're using the northern route, contact is the cobbler Pug at Saddler's Inn. I need you two to go after our team immediately. You both have horses? Good. Catch up with them, warn them to caution, reinforce them. Obviously, your further course of action will be decided on the spot when you see what the local situation is. Questions?"

Already as he speaks those last words he's turning to a hovering pair to archers who look ripe for a bath, some bandages and a long rest, but are evidently getting ready to out again after some newly detected band of orcs in the vicinity of the camp.



(Both - if you like, work out whether you'd like to have met before, or want this to be your first meeting. You'll have a few days of off-camera travel together to come to know each other before the session begins.)

(Keeran - you'll need a horse for this. You can have traded one of your two bows for a light warhorse and military saddle and saddlebags in Heren-Nín. You might also have noticed that the Elves find bartering strange and use a rather abstract and complicated conversion method, by which barter goods are converted into round printed metal pieces and then back to the goods you meant to trade for. Sometimes metal is left over one one side of the bargain - if you like, you can have kept 10gp.)

 

[randomling]

Author's note: Meet my new PC, Katrin Baden.

Katrin's Story

It was late at night now, and I was tired, but Keeran insisted he’d found their tracks, so the two of us rode on. Keeran was an archer, usually quiet and surly; aside from essential talk about food and direction, he said little except to make occasional mention of his dead brother and the old friends of his we were meeting. When he’d seen the horse tracks headed away from the road, Keeran had turned east to follow them. I gazed at the dwindling moon: by now it had to be past midnight.

After a while we reached the crest of a hill, over which the horses had disappeared. We followed. By the time the camp was in sight, we had already been seen, and five figures stood at the bottom of the hill, weapons drawn. I peered down the hill, unable to make out details of faces.

“Hail, Zana,” Keeran cried.

“Keeran?” Lowering her sword, a middle-sized Sarcosan woman stepped forward. “Is that you?”

Keeran and I rode forward and dismounted. Keeran spoke briefly to Zana, who after a few moments made the introductions: Apari, a quiet Danisil elf who had a sad, shocked look; Pallas, a tall sullen man with a vardatch; Verity, frightened-looking; an unnamed halfling who shied away from the others. Zana herself stood defiantly with her sword still in her hand and a wild look in her eyes like a dying animal. This, then, was the group’s leader. But the elf said softly, “We’re Jez’s band.”

Zana shot a look at the elf. I gazed at her, at the semi-familiar lines of her face, her dark skin and eyes, thinking. “Do I know you?”

“No,” said Zana blankly. She was still looking at Apari. I turned away to join the discussion that Pallas was having with Verity about safer places to camp, and soon the six of us were riding towards the New Road in search of some place that Verity knew. It turned out to be on the New Road itself, magically buried inside it: I remember staring as Verity called “Follow me!” and disappeared. All of us followed.

Inside, it was white stone, and apparently inaccessible from the outside. Still we set watches. I slept soundly, as always, but as I kept watch, myself observing my new companions. None of them were sleeping well. From what I’d heard, that was to be expected. One had died. The survivors seemed devastated.

Morning came around, none too soon for me, but long before any of the others wanted it to. Within a few hours of waking, the mission had been explained and planned, the halfling named and then interrogated. It was Pallas, in his quiet voice, who explained that their friend Jez had given her life so that they could get the Earthlight, the gem that Zana held in her hand. Now their job was to destroy the new temple with it. The decision was that Keeran and Apari – both scouts – would go, and the rest of us stay behind. After nightfall, they left, and we were left in our hiding-place: Pallas, Verity, Loren the halfling, Zana, and me.

Some time after they left, Zana asked why I’d thought I knew her. In response, I looked into her face. “What’s your last name?”

“Than,” she said.

I blinked at her, surprised. “Are you related to Lord Than?”

“My father.”

I looked at her for a long time, comparing her to my old lover, the man I’d travelled so far to find. How was it that I’d stumbled across his daughter? Her manner was different from his; she had no Sarcosan accent; I remembered Than telling me about his child, the earthy Erenlander girl who’d turned up at his camp one night, demanding to be taken on. He’d sounded so proud of her – much prouder than my father had ever been of me.

“How is the old dog?” I said, faking a smile to hide my beating heart. “I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“He’s dead,” said Zana without a pause. She leaned forward to stoke the fire while I sat there near to choking, trying to pull myself together enough to talk.

We discussed him for a while. Four years, he’d been dead four years. Less than a year after our three weeks together, he was dead, and I hadn’t heard about it despite all my searching. Zana quizzed me about how I’d known him, I explained all I could without telling her the one thing I couldn’t imagine her reacting well to.

“Did you see him fight?” she asked.

“Once,” I said, and couldn’t suppress a smile at the memory. “Wow.”

“He was so quick,” said Zana.

I looked at my hands, remembering him: “He was certainly quick.”

Zana raised her eyebrows and looked away.

We were silent for a long time, barely looking at each other, unable to tell if the others were awake or asleep. It was Zana who finally took up the thread of conversation again, and we spoke in low voices about leadership and tragedy, about the elf, who Zana thought should lead them instead of her. I looked at Zana and saw her father, a man born to leadership as he was to swordsmanship, and I wondered if Zana was the same as him. Even defeated as she was, I thought I could see it. She couldn’t step down, mustn’t. The band needed her.

Once again we lapsed into silence, and hours later, Keeran and Apari came stumbling back with the Earthlight and collapsed asleep. They hadn’t succeeded. I could see the disappointment on Zana’s face, the weight of what seemed like another bad decision. We set watches again. The next night, Apari said, he would try again. Alone.

In the morning, a troupe of orcs, legates and human slaves tramped past our hiding-place on the New Road. Apari said he would go anyway, but, oppressed by the Shadow emanating from the Temple, came back, fast. Soon after he returned, the orcs and legates came tramping back, but the humans were gone. The Temple had been consecrated.

Now we had a new decision. Everybody wanted to complete the mission, but it would be a sacrifice now. To destroy the Mirror, somebody had to die.

I saw Zana look at Apari, the only one capable of getting there, willing him to take the decision out of her hands. The elf spoke eloquently of Jez, the girl they’d lost, how he felt responsible for her death, how he was prepared to do this, for her. I listened to him, biting back the words I wanted to scream to Zana. This is who you’d have as a leader? An elf so wracked with guilt he’s suicidal? Are you so mad with grief you think his decisions will be any better than yours?

After nightfall, Apari said his goodbyes and left. I watched Zana disappear into herself as the elf disappeared into memory, watching the horizon like a hawk. Nobody said a word; an hour dragged past; the moon was a sliver in the sky. Then we saw it: black lightning.

I looked at the other faces in camp. Keeran was near-expressionless; Pallas, too. Verity was grinning, but had tears in her eyes. The halfling looked forlorn. Zana’s eyes flashed, but her expression was unreadable: for her, this was equal parts triumph and defeat. I smiled a little, but I felt the loss too. He’d been a friend for two days, but he’d given his life for victory.

We all laid our bodies down, but nobody slept.

Some time afterwards, a small dark-clothed figure staggered into our hiding-place, his face and hair singed. Zana sat bolt upright as the rest of us rolled over and sat up sleepily, confused but not yet alarmed.

“I’ve avenged Jez,” said Apari’s voice. Then the small figure collapsed where he stood, and in moments, he was fast asleep.

 

[randomling]

StalkingBlue - any chance of editing the first post to reflect the current cast list? It still lists only Zana, Loren and Jarod!