WotBS Bonus Time's Burning Sky

[Tormyr]

Holy mega update, Batman!

I really enjoy the writing from the PC's perspective.

 

[RangerWickett]

Wow. Okay, I got this far - WotBS - Bonus Time's Burning Sky - and will need to come back to read the rest!

 

[VicsHacienda]

Where the Water Runs Red​

[Friendly reminder that this encounter was generated using Uncharted Journeys to cover the travel to Eresh.]

(Since we left Sagorpur I have been bothered by some bug. Trevor takes over the tale below; while he talks like he’s hurling liquid against a wall, he has that noble training and a clean writing hand. Don't tell him I said so. - Hawk)

We grumble since we get no rest. Viggo is menacing and all, but he ain't no outrider like Hawk. That marshland really did a number on her. It looks like she's coughing up sticky swamp water. Between her irritating (yet absolutely understandable) hacking and Viggo's constant desire to probe Osnald's trypophobia, everyone is on edge. (I thought I was getting used to marshes what with traveling through the ones north of Seaquen, but I guess I'm not a lizardfolk. It's annoying because now we're in the mountains, and in my kind of terrain. - Hawk)

We navigate through the mangroves, the forest, and around the mountains. Once we leave the mangroves, everything is cold and covered by winter. We have no untoward encounters, maybe our hacking and shouting discourage anything approaching us. This cold can't be good for Hawk, especially coming from the humidity in Sagorpur. (I'm fine, Trevor. The mountain forests of Gate Pass have snow on them every winter. Yer not my nursemaid. Besides, these water buffalo are not supposed to be this far north. - Hawk)

Our luck runs out once we pass through the plains. Viggo hears it first - people talking in anxious, animated voices. He cannot hear what they are saying. They don't sound violent, so we approach. A couple of farmers talking over a fence bitching about something is what I hear. They're upset about a devil weed. We chat for a bit. The weed vexes them. Osnald suggests they stop smoking it and it won't bother them. They don't understand. Fafnir, ever the practical, tells them to just yank it out: "That's what we do at the ranch." That's when the country folk explain like we're simpletons: it's a weed that's like The Devil.

"Ah!" says Viggo. "We've seen this before. Just sprinkle holy water on it." And with that bit of wisdom dispensed, Viggo leads on. The farmers rub their chins contemplating the solution as we trod down the road. The buffalo leave their chips as parting gifts. (We have to put extra heavy horse blankets on the water buffalo; they are from the warm marshlands, and don't enjoy this weather a bit. - Hawk)

It's a little bit before we come into a village celebrating (garlands and shouting gave it away). I smell alcohol. "Finally, my kind of place. Party and booze."

They are celebrating longevity of the village or some such nonsense. As long as there's drink I'll celebrate buffalo shits. (I'll say nothin' at this time. - Hawk)

Once we get to the village center there's a confusing air about; some are cheering, some appear relieved, and some are crying forlornly.

I go straight to the beer lady. "Here, you want some beer? I have beer, you want some? Here, take some beer. You want some beer?" She doesn't let me answer and shoves a flagon in my face.

"Um, Yes?!" I down it and wipe the suds from my stubbly face. "So what's going on here? What am I celebrating?"

She says a bunch of words: "Longevity of the village! Sacrifice, all sorts of fun crazy stuff. We celebrate, gather in the square, we drink, go to the altar, do some stuff, we drink some more, it gets crazy, we do some stuff, and we drink some more, we get really crazy." It doesn't make sense. She sounds like a preacher who is convinced and can only say those preacher words; not real talk.

"So have we happened upon Shitzville?"

"No, that's up the road a bit, this is Redwater," she quickly replies.

She seems anxious and nervous. She doesn't give specifics about their celebration of longevity of the village, whatever the naughty word that means. I take another beer. Fun and crazy. A fuckin hoot.

Osnald sees two women kissing and thinks it's a good idea to interrupt. He engages the woman with the shortest skirt, which ends at his eyebrows. She regards him with an up-and-down look. In a deep voice she says, "We are celebrating the longevity of the village. The town needs to make an offering because weather is bad. I think it's going to be a good year. I think the offering selected will be well accepted."

"An offering? Maybe I can help. So what is being offered?" Osnald asks.

"Oh it's something the village agrees on. It's all been arranged and taken care of. Don't worry about helping, this bad weather is going to turn around after we do the offering tonight. It's a good offering that everyone agrees on."

Osnald notes she has a book in her pocket: Bleeding for Adults. Osnald recognizes the book as teachings from Erewhon, a deity of life, death and rebirth, magic and transformation, who accepts all sorts of sacrifices: human, animal, or otherwise. Osnald learns the town is named Redwater because the water runs red from sacrificing.

Viggo finds a large-breasted woman with a tray of cookies. He asks her what she studies and if he could study her (My companions have never learned respect for the objects of their interests. - Hawk). Her name is Kazusa Scuk and has a whispery voice. She looks at him and his clothes disdainfully, then cautiously passes him a cookie, careful not to touch Viggo.

"We are celebrating the longevity of the village."

Viggo asks how often they "celebrate the longevity of the village."

"Annually," she replies. Viggo raises his eyebrows, then realizes he misheard her.

"It's an offering that the town all agrees upon. Everyone understands. A mutually agreed upon offering. Sacrifices need to be made and everyone will do their part. Everyone knows their part and everyone sacrifices, mutually." She turns away to hand out cookies to the children gathered around.

Fafnir sees a crying woman and asks why she weeps. She says her name is Mary and the town needs to sacrifice to Erewhon for the longevity of the village. It's winter and a sacrifice is necessary to bring about bounty and to preserve the village.

She's to be that sacrifice.

I take my beer and find Fafnir by the well in the village plaza. I tell him about my interaction with the beer lady. Fafnir says, "Yeah, they're gonna kill her." He hooks his thumb at the woman wiping the tears from her eyes but trying to smile and look happy. "Some Erewhon god wants a sacrifice."

"Oh yes, Erewhon, the deity of rebirth, death, magical transformation. He has a pack of white hounds with red ears that gather souls in the winter," Osnald chimes in from below.

I spit-take my beer. "Fuckin’ Osnald?! Let a guy know when you sneak up on him. So the village is gonna sacrifice one of their neighbors to this god?"

Viggo and Osnald say, "yes." They look at each other. "Jinx! Grimace and sneer, you owe me a beer!" they say in unison. (Gods help me. - Hawk)

Fafnir suggests we kill the village to save the girl.

Viggo suggests that human sacrifice is stupid, but it's difficult to separate correlation from causation with superstitious folks.

"What if we give the village something else to sacrifice? Like a white winter wolf?" I belch into my mug. (Not a bad idea. Trevor still has room for his wits even when filling the rest of himself with drink. - Hawk)

Fafnir's eyes widen when he realizes what I am suggesting. "No! Not wolf! I train it, you will see. Most incredible white winter wolf you will see. Incredible wolf."

Osnald puts his hand on Fafnir's arm. "Ain't no one going to be able to train that thing, big guy. Come on, look at your scratches. And we can't keep it muzzled forever."

Fafnir looks at the muzzled wolf tethered to the buffalos. "Such a magnificent beast..." Fafnir closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and sighs. "Water Buffalo Bill and Calamity Jane are skittish around Frostbite."

Hawk turns to Fafnir. "Ye named it?" (I shouldn't have asked. I name all our riding and work animals, why not name his murderous evil hound? - Hawk)

Fafnir nods. "It needs a name worthy of its stature."

Osnald wanders off while we talk. He comes back with Emaberhun Avsen, the religious leader of the village. "So fellas, Ember here is willing to consider another sacrifice. I said we have the perfect thing. Something better than some floozy from town. I told Everhun here that in order to end winter you need to sacrifice a winter beast to show that winter is over. Erewhon would want nothing less."

Viggo gasps, "Oh! I. Have. An. IDEA. Yes, Erewhon would want a special sacrifice, something that befits his oeuvre: rebirth. Maybe the village has chosen wisely. Maybe Mary is the vessel for the sacrifice."

"Stop bein' daft. To quote Trevor, 'what the hell are you talking about?'" asks Hawk.

Viggo casts womb walk. Mary, the mutually selected sacrifice, suddenly moans and falls to her knees. "Quickly! Gather some blankets and warm water," Viggo commands.

Revelers gather to see the commotion. Mary, now prone on the ground, screams as her belly distends. She's pregnant! naughty word hell! She's pregnant. More people gather and chant as Mary's screams grow louder. Blankets and warm water are handed to Viggo as he tends to the now crowning baby with... shockingly white hair?! Tossing some blankets down for privacy, Viggo jumps aside and a fully grown white winter wolf bursts from Mary's vagina. Amniotic fluid and blood splatter everywhere.

"Behold! Erewhon's sacrifice, to end all sacrifices," Viggo exclaims.

"Nuada has delivered this beast mere hours ago to us for Erewhon! The gods have spoken!" shouts Fafnir.

"The gods have spoken!" shouts Emaberhun Avsen.

Fafnir, not without a tear creasing his eye, crashes Einherjar on the wolf's skull, killing it.

"The gods have spoken!" repeats Emaberhun Avsen.

What the naughty word did I just see? I need more beer. (I think I'll join you. - Hawk)

The wolf is sacrificed. The village erupts in cheers and sweep us all into the feast. They fete us. I get fat with pork and wine.

We head out the next day, and Osnald whines about not finding those two women who were making out.

More Familiar Happenings Along the Mountain Ways​

[Here we are back in WotBS Monastery of the Two Winds.]

We travel through other wintry villages and make it to foothills. It's rocky and we are alone. The monastery is in the mountains. We can walk a series of narrow switchbacks, but our beasts of burden can't navigate it. (They really shouldn't be this far north, the poor beasts. - Hawk) A system of winches and steps have been installed to assist their ascent. We use the winches to summit two mountains, but when we get to the third we see the steps have been smashed, but their winches look okay. Fafnir and Viggo elect to climb up to retrieve the harnesses necessary to carry Bill and Jane up the mountain.

"I've got no illusions about this. It's an ambush. Be ready, boys," warns Hawk.

Fafnir determines there are worg tracks leading up the slope. Viggo sends Owlmo up to reconnoiter, then changes tack. Viggo peers thru Owlmo's eyes, thus blinding himself. Fafnir takes a potion of growth, slings Viggo onto his back, and carries him up the path.

As the two ascend, a wall of fire cuts off our path to them. Osnald and I had remained below with the animals and Hawk. We hear two arrows fffft past Fafnir and Viggo. One plinks off Fafnir's armor. Osnald says, "I'll have none of that," and dispels the wall of fire.

"What shower of naughty words is this? It had to be all the way up the hill. I'm a skirmisher for naughty word's sake." I cast jump to leap up. I pass Fafnir and Viggo and tuck near the incline to avoid any danger from above. "I've seen what arrows can do from a distance." (Well, you've seen what my arrows can do. These are spindly little goblin shortbow shafts. - Hawk)

Viggo uses Owlmo's eyes to target a rain of bones on the hostiles atop the hill near the winch, striking four entities and killing the archer who fired arrows at Fafnir and a worg hidden in the scrub.

Another archer attempts to hit Fafnir across the chasm, plinking off his armor. Another wall of fire encircles Fafnir and Viggo.

I turn to see Fafnir push through the column of fire with Viggo on his back and stomp up the mountainside. His face is sweaty and streaked with soot. His eyes aren't reflecting the fire as much as they are matching its intensity. Fuuuuck. That's some scary naughty word. (That's my fellow rancher. - Hawk)

From the shadows just above Fafnir and Viggo fly two arrows too high and wide to hit Fafnir... because they are meant for Viggo! They graze Fafnir's shoulder and ricochet into the canyon below. Another archer from across the canyon fires at Fafnir again.

That's when I realize: I left Osnald alone at the bottom.