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

Cleansing Fires

It is late summer of the year 318 S.A. After the disastrous Battle of Pelthurin, at which all five Sarcosan generals were assassinated by Elven magic, the Sarcosans have had no choice but to make peace with the Elves. Finally, the war against the long-eared forest fey is over. The minor Sarcosan prince Daghu of A'Hamra is on his way into Erethor to wed the Elven maiden Inúriel, escorted by five members of his court...

Handouts to players:

Katrin Baden – Sister-Princess to Daghu – raised with him as noble child hostage

Always the war against the Elves has been your bond. You and him, Dorns and Sarcosans – together. Now …

If only you didn’t love him so. Surely he still loves you back? Surely that was not just a brotherly kiss when he nuzzled your ear in passing? Surely, if you just watch and wait and ready to interfere, you can still come between your brother-lover and this cold painted thing and man-thief?

Of your companions, you believe Keeran most likely might feel similar to you. Ever loyal, you have seen him cringe and hide his face whenever Daghu mentions his Elf-love. Zana and Pallas preserve their well-trained court countenances better, but they, too appear to be growing unhappier as your journey progresses ...


Pallas the Silent – Captain of the Prince’s bodyguard

Six warriors your family, one of the most ancient on the continent of Eredane, sent out to battle against the long-eared forest demons. Your father and all four brothers perished, you alone survived.

You have pledged your life to protect the Prince’s. But if the Prince forsakes old blood and honour, and gives his word to marry that vile seductress, that inhuman forest demoness instead – then what will you do? …

Of your companions, you think you understand Zana’s position best: of revered traditional and religious office, surely she cannot but disapprove of the Prince’s exotic marriage plans. Although both Katrin and Keeran, the emotional ones, also appear to be growing unhappier as your journey progresses ...


Apari Ghostwalker – Officially appointed Groom-Guide to Prince Daghu

“Humans cannot be trusted. Remember this, Apari: humans – can – not – be – trusted.” These have been Elder Loren’s farewell words to you. They sent you on this mission as Groom-Guide to detect human deceit, unveil the lies that will enable the Elders’ Council to expose Daghu at the Cleansing Fire Ceremony.

You have travelled with them, you have suffered through disharmonious ceremony and barbaric entertainment at their tree-less court. You have hated the sight and the stink of them. Yet, you have not found the slightest proof of deceit or intended treachery. Time is running out …

You sense strange undercurrents, unspoken half-understandings between the human entourage of Prince Daghu. Surely there cannot be a plot in hatching?
Although if there is a plot, maybe you should help it along – it might still help to prevent that unholy wedding?...

Keeran – Master of the Hunt

The Forest Madness is upon him, as surely as your hounds smell a trail. Ever since your Master first saw that icy woman, two years ago, he has been touched by it, sometimes sickened. Vile beast. Charmer of trees. Shapechanger. They turn into wolves or serpents at night-time, it is said, to ravish you and eat your heart out in your sleep.

Yet, nothing is done so far. Surely the Prince will come to see reason? …

Of your companions, you believe Katrin most likely might feel similar to you. Ever loyal, you have seen her sad concerned glances when the Prince isn’t looking. Zana and Pallas preserve their well-trained court countenances better, but they, too appear to be growing unhappier as your journey progresses ...


Zana Than – Veteran fighter and freshly anointed Priestess of the Sahi, Reader of the Starry Host’s Tales

If Daghu marries an Elf he will have to renounce his claim to succession – which would greatly weaken the political leverage of his noble retainers of the Than family.

The Prince seems likeable, if more a poet than a warrior. But your uncle, head priest of A’Hamra, has got you robed and got you included on this escort, to see what you can do ...

Of your companions, you think you understand Pallas’s position best: ancient blood, surely he cannot but disapprove of the Prince’s exotic marriage plans. Although both Katrin and Keeran, the emotional ones, also appear to grow unhappier as your journey progresses ...

(Your bastard sword btw seems nameless in this, um, ‘incarnation’.)
 

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randomling said:
StalkingBlue - any chance of editing the first post to reflect the current cast list? It still lists only Zana, Loren and Jarod! :uhoh:
Click to expand...

Um, oh, ok. :)

I'm also posting the complete current Cast list below.
---

The Cast

Jez's Band

Zana Than, Butt-Kickin' Sarcosan Warrior Princess, Erenlander Ftr6 (played by S'mon)
Keeran, Erethor hunter and courier, Tane's brother, Erenlander Rog2/Ftr2 (played by Tallarn)
Apari Ghostwalker, Erethor scout and healer, Jungle Elf Chn3/Wld2
Pallas Elinor, southern plains drifter and lone wolf, Erenlander Ftr5
Katrin Baden, northern crusader, Erenlander Ftr5 (played by randomling)


Former PCs

Jezzan Hest, weaponsmith from Hamra, Erenlander Ftr4/Bbn1, deceased - killed by an orc minion of Temple Legate Vorne Everett holding her hostage when negotiating for Vorne's escape
Tane, Erethor bowyer and courier, Keeran's brother, Erenlander Rog3, deceased - killed by a lucky arrow through the eye from treacherous Sarcosan rider Zoidan of Zorgetch, after bravely sneaking up to Zoidan on his own when the PCs overran Zoidan's camp in a night surprise attack
Loren, Erethor scribe and scholar, Wood Elf Chn3, deceased - killed by wolves in defense of Erethor while carrying drum containing Vile Essence
Kim, Hamra apothecary, Erenlander Rog1, deceased - killed by local thug in an underground aqueduct pipe
Therin, Felthera Valley hunter, Erenlander Wld1, deceased - arrested and killed by orcs while trying to escape Hamra
Jarod, Felthera Valley mason and siege engineer, Erenlander Dfd3, retired - was "volunteered" by the Elves at Heren-Nín for emergency siege engineering and masonry works on the Keep of the Cataracts


Forces of Good

"Jan" Jarandur Wym, old travelling Gnome trader

Bendo, Dornish orc-man leader in the foothills south-west of Al-Kadil
Ailar, Sarcosan warrior-woman, Bendo's consort and bodyguard
Moon, orc-man, Bendo's sergeant
Melrik, an orc-man in Bendo's band


In Dargham’s Folly (originally Dagh Alimi Foor - High Sarcosan for 'Prince Daghu's Dream') :
Captain Bernt, Erenlander, camp commander
Nayeen, female Wood Elf, Elven Advisor
Rennael, male Wood Elf scout and Keeran’s and Tane’s old friend
Dimgol, resident Gnome trader


In Heren-Nín:
Inahas, male wood elf, Council Eldest
Feen, female wood elf, Council Mage


Minions of Shadow

Vorne Everett, deceased - Temple Legate Fifth Rank, disembowelled by Zana after having Jez killed inb Leera's mansion east of Saddler's Inn

Zoidan of Zorgetch, Sarcosan black-market horse dealer who used to trade with Lord Than - captured by the PCs and delivered to Nayeen and the Elves after he tried to lure the gnome trader Jan Wym into a trap near Al-Kadil
Aren, Sarcosan rider, Zoidan's follower, deceased - captured and killed by the PCs after contacting Jan Wym to set up his meeting with Zoidan

Jahzel AlMaeera, Greater Legate, Eisin
Semelin, Temple Legate, Black Weir
Khaark, someone mentioned as having tongs and a taste for twitching liver

Rimhelde, Soldier Legate commanding temple guards in the Black Weir region south of Felthera, reported to recently have been recalled North


Also appearing …

Loren, Halfling - Apari's newly acquired slave (named after Loren the Wood Elf scholar)

Verity, Erenlander resistance fighter - rescued from orcs by PCs in Saddler's Inn

Pug, Erenlander - cobbler and resistance contact in Saddler's Inn

Patok, Erenlander - formerly innkeeper of sorts in Pechina, a village half a day north of Bendo's foothills; tagged along with PCs to Dagham's Folly

Tom & Semmo, Erenlander Wildlanders in Erethor - saved from a Fell Uruk by the party

Tunni, a kid from Dargham's Folly

Kiriel, female Snow Elf, deceased - killed by wolves in defense of Erethor while carrying drum containing Vile Essence
Naith, Erenlander, former Hamra port labourer; rescued by the PCs from goblin warg riders when escorting Kiriel with Kirky
Kirky, Erenlander, deceased; killed by goblin warg riders when escorting Kiriel with Naith
Gabe, man in Hamra reported by Naith to have had Kiriel "in his cellar”

Historical and quasi-historical figures

Ghosts trapped in Noyor-Nín ("Tree Town") and freed by the PCs' preventing a replay of the Elven-human massacre
Prince Daghu - Sarcosan prince of A'Hamra in the early Second Age, groom to Inúriel
Inúriel - Wood Elf lady in Noyor-Nín, bride to Daghu
Peleorin - Inúriel's brother and murderer
Ardherin - Inúriel's cousin
Loren - Elder in Noyor-Nín

PCs' 'incarnations' in the Noyor-Nín ghost trap
Zana Than - Veteran fighter and freshly anointed Priestess of the Sahi, Reader of the Starry Host’s Tales
Pallas the Silent - Captain of the Prince’s bodyguard
Apari Ghostwalker – Officially appointed Groom-Guide to Prince Daghu
Keeran – Master of the Hunt
Katrin Baden – Sister-Princess to Daghu, raised with him as noble child hostage
 
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Zana's Story pt 4

ZANA THAN

Zana was grappling with the great ape fire-demon in the ghost-forest. She pinned its right arm. Its strength was incredible. Flames wreathed around her, charring her gear. She felt nothing. The fire was cold. Katrin Baden pinned its left arm. She was burning, in agony. But yet Katrin still held on.

Zana felt a sense of great detachment, looking down at herself from above. Her body was wiry, athletic really, yet always seemed blocky somehow, square-cut. Cut from the earth. Her feet were always planted firmly on the ground. Iron now, all human emotion and feeling long since seared away, burned off in Izrador's cleansing flames.

Nothing could hurt her now.

Katrin Baden stifled a scream as the fires charred her flesh. Katrin was brave, braver than Zana Than had ever been. Katrin was soft, vulnerable. She wanted to live. Yet still she held on. For Zana it was easy.

Zana wanted to die.

Eventually - an eternity it seemed - Keeran and Pallas were coming up, weapons drawn. The elves all around looked on at the scene, framed like a picture in an old book. They didn't seem to move at all. Like statues. Zana fancied she could see right through them.

Keeran, brother of Tane, poked ineffectually at the fire demon with his sword. It barely seemed to notice, lashing angrily, trying to scrape the humans from its burning body. Zana could barely hold on. Katrin's strength was amazing - the little redhead Dornswoman looked like nothing, but she easily matched Zana's strength.

Inuriel didn't move, didn't step back from the beast that had slain her. Caught like a puppet on its strings. The script had to be followed. The play's the thing.

Zana's father had told her about puppets and plays, about theatre and all the life that had been lived, before the Last War. Zana's grandfather had told Lord Than, when Than was young - "Back in my day, son…" To a fourteen-year old girl, it had sounded like fun.

This wasn't fun.

Pallas came up, Vardatch raised. He took his time. He always took his time. His face was a mask. It was always a mask. Katrin was burning. The stink of her flesh. The monster couldn't break free. The Vardatch raised. Pallas swung, execution-style.

The monster's head sprang from its shoulders, rolled on the grass.

Victory.

At that the elf Inuriel started moving. A cuckoo-clock figurine, a wooden puppet sprung into semblance of life.

"My love!"

Inuriel collapsed into Prince Daghu's outstretched arms.

Everything was fine. Happy ending.

Nothing was fine. Nothing had changed.

Nothing can change.

The world faded. The forest transformed. Jez's Band stood in a clearing now. Modern Erethor, or close to it. Zana was there, with Katrin Baden - scorched, but not too badly burned . Keeran of Tane. Apari the elf, and Pallas.

Zana, Katrin and Keeran had returned to the ghost world to try to save them. Apari had tried to have her killed. Pallas seemed happy enough with that, too. Pallas preferred the ghosts to the living. Apari just hated humans. Wanted them dead.

You know who your friends are.

The chief puppet was there, too. Inuriel, a dead elven princess four thousand years gone. Zana could see right through her.

Inuriel the elf-ghost was thanking them for their services, prattling on. Most grateful, the ghosts were. Zana's head was muggy. Mud for brains. Her mother often said that. She didn't understand.

Apari seemed pleased, receiving the thanks of the elf-ghost. A proud elven prince.

Zana's mind turned slowly, like a water-wheel in mud. Four thousand years ago, an elf prince had murdered his sister. The elves had massacred more than two dozen innocent Sarcosans at a wedding cleansing ceremony, under a flag of peace. This disturbed the elves. They didn't like sullying their bright swords with human ichor. They blamed us.

Humans had been paying for this crime ever since. What had Rennael the elf said, back in Treetown? It was hard to understand. Every hundred years or so, four humans and an elf were summoned. To replay the ancient tableau. At its conclusion, the fire demon appeared. Inuriel was ripped apart, again. The humans were murdered. The elf returned to Treetown. Rennael had been the last elf.

One day, Rennael said, the humans would succeed. The demon would be stopped. The ghosts would be happy. It was again time. Rennael wanted Jez's Band to be the next five. Lambs to the slaughter. Captain Bernt had sent them. If they succeeded, the ghosts would let the humans have Treetown.

To Zana, it didn't sound like a very good deal. She had turned Rennael down flat. Hadn't she? Their arrival at Treetown, their meeting with him, it was a fog, illusion over reality. It wasn't real. None of it was real. The others had accepted the mission. Zana had shrugged and bid them good-bye. She followed them at a distance as they went with Rennael to the silver bridge that led into the ghost world. She had watched Inuriel-ghost appear. She had watched Jez's Band follow Inuriel, cross the bridge. She had turned away. Then…

She didn't have a choice.

In the dream - in the ghost-world - she had been a true Sarcosan, noble-blooded. A priestess of the Starry Host. A fake priestess, but still. It had hurt to leave. Zana had wanted it to be real. Had wanted it so much. It had hurt too much to leave.

The elves had betrayed her.

Inuriel-ghost was still prattling on. Less than a moment had passed. Apari stood, chest puffed out with pride. Zana hated him, then.

Venom filled her.

Kursu's hilt was in her hand. She stepped forward, sword half-raised. She glared hatred at Inuriel. Inuriel was still talking.

"You! You better have a good explanation for this!"

The words were thick in her mouth. Clumsy. Not right.

Apari frowned, his equanimity disturbed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Human filth weren't supposed to address their betters like this. Ruining his moment. He raised a hand dismissively, spoke to Inuriel.

"Ignore him…."

Zana was not the most feminine of women. Elves always had trouble telling human genders apart. We're all filthy. We all stink. Apari did that a lot. It never seemed to matter much.

It mattered now.

Apari had killed Jez.

Zana shrieked, turned to Apari, Kursu raised to strike. Cut him down. Had to be fast. Tricky elf, he'd cast a spell. Web her again. Colour spray, or worse.

She saw the faces of the others blanche, their hands start to move, too slow now - Keeran, Katrin, Pallas - Pallas didn't matter. Katrin mattered more. Zana stayed her hand.

The effort churned her gut, but she turned aside, turned back to Inuriel. Kursu shone like silver. The sword could hurt Inuriel. Zana knew it. Zana was screaming now.

"Talk fast, bitch!"

The world changed.


* * *

Later, as Zana Than led her Sarcosan warhorse Blacky west out of Treetown, she reflected upon the conversations she'd had with the elven shade Inuriel, and then with Katrin Baden. Zana had been initially distrustful of Katrin, seeing a naïve and privileged rich girl who saw Zana merely as an extension of her lost lover, Zana's father. However, by this time Zana had to admit that Katrin was quite a remarkable woman. It was easy to see why her father might have been attracted to Katrin. The woman seemed older than her years, wise in her way, with an easy, supportive air, almost maternal. Zana's own mother had been a bit of a shrew, Zana thought unfairly. Not that it had been easy, raising five children with no man in the house… Katrin Baden had an assurance and centre to her that Zana had always lacked. Perhaps it was the relatively easy life she had led, but she seemed genuinely sympathetic to Zana. She had made the road ahead easier.

Inuriel - it didn't seem that much of the elf's psyche had survived all these millenia. It was like talking to a butterfly. A four thousand year-old, highly intelligent butterfly that had been murdered at her own wedding-cleansing ceremony. Murdered by her brother.

Zana had harangued the ghost, demanding to know why. Inuriel-ghost had few answers and, infuriatingly, absolutely no animosity. Inuriel had died at the ceremony, killed by the demon-ape. She didn't know what had happened next. She didn't know why - or even that - she had spent the next four millenia luring people across the ghost-bridge to their deaths. Zana idly wondered what Rennael's friend - Sammo? - had thought as he died, a hundred years ago. Died for the elves. As far as Zana could tell, the survivors of the massacre - Loren and his people - were wracked with guilt. Not over the death of a few dozen Sarcosans. That would be nonsensical. No. They had lied - in blaming the Sarcosans, covered up Prince Peleorin's crime. The unspeakable act, the murder of a fellow elf, his sister Inuriel. There was the guilt that could not be assuaged. In time - centuries of time - they had presumably passed away. Their guilty secret undiscovered, their spirits wracked with guilt, they had returned to this place. And the play - the tableaux - had begun. In the theatre of the ghost-world they had created, the play had run for a very long time. The five-member audience was appreciative, even unto death. And so it had gone on.

Who to blame? Inuriel, Zana had grudgingly admitted, was perhaps least of all to blame for this. Her only crime, to love a foolish Sarcosan prince. She had more than suffered enough. Peleorin? Naturally. The deaths of Inuriel, Daghu and his entourage lay at the murderer's feet. But that had been a single bloody act. Not centuries of torment. It was Loren and the others - the elves who had covered up the deed, set the wheels in motion. They were truly to blame - they and all elf-kind.

"We are weak. You are strong. But your souls are empty. You are a dying race. For all our suffering, all our pain, we will go on. One day, there will be no more elves. But Humanity will endure. Fare well, Inuriel. Rest in peace."

With words something like these, Zana had turned away from the Inuriel-shade, apparently laid to rest at last, and rejoined the others in Treetown under a modern sky. She could not stand even to look at Apari the Ghostwalker, who perhaps once she might have called friend. Later, she had quietly spoken with Katrin, stated her intent to leave Jez's Band, head west alone into the forest.

Alone with her thoughts, and perhaps some kind of peace.
 

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

We slept at Noyor Nin. The next morning, Zana was gone. Katrin had talked to her. She said Zana “needed a break”. I didn’t know what that meant. A break from what? The woman nearly lost it last night, almost attacking Apari. She had screamed incoherently, first at the elven ghost, then at Apari. I had seen it before. She was going mad. She couldn’t stand the ghosts. I saw ghosts all the time, including Jez’s. So be it. It didn’t matter. Zana went.

The journey back was uneventful. Katrin met a patrol with people she knew. She was going to stay the night with them and catch up with us. We made our way back to Dargham’s Folly. The place was even more crowded, dirtier. More desperate. We were ushered into Bernt’s quarters. He told us to report. Apari did the talking. He talked a lot but said very little. He didn’t tell Bernt anything except that Treetown was now empty of ghosts. That wasn’t true. Inuriel’s ghost was still there. Little the wiser, Bernt told us to report the next morning. We left.


Dimgol the gnome trader grimaced. It was evening. Things were not good in Dargham’s Folly right now. The orcs were making major inroads into the Forest. There were rumours that the legendary Keep of the Cataracts was under attack. There was all sorts of other wild speculation of course but that’s all it was. He had learned long ago that there was rumour and there was speculation. The former could be turned to your advantage while you listened to the latter at your peril. The mood in the camp was getting worse and worse. Nayeen the elf seemed particularly affected. She was listless and depressed. There was speculation that she would leave Dargham’s Folly soon. Many people were kept alive by her Stone Soup so if she left, there would be panic.

There was a massive flurry of action from Bernt’s headquarters. Dimgol could hear his bellows from here and messengers were running even faster than normal in and out of his office.

All of this was very disruptive to trade.

Some time later, Dimgol saw a figure approaching. As soon as he recognised it, he went inside and closed up. It was that very odd stranger. The one with the mask. Dimgol didn’t know him but the man gave him the creeps. He rarely spoke to anyone, spent most of his time outside the camp. The only people who were seen in his company regularly were the bunch who called themselves Jez’s Band. He had done a little business with them. The others were all right but this one….Dimgol wanted nothing to do with him.

He watched him from inside. The tall hulking figure was carrying a sack. As usual it was impossible to make out his features. They were shadowed under his mask. He didn’t look anyone in the eye. The warrior stopped and deposited the sack outside Dimgol’s door. Then he turned around and started walking away. Dimgol watched him for a moment but then couldn’t contain his curiosity. He opened the door and looked inside the sack. There were several bags and two little bottles. The little crystal bottles contained perfume. The bags contained salt and spices. All very useful stuff. Certainly valuable trading commodities.

Dimgol was puzzled. He didn’t understand. He looked up but the figure was gone.


I could see that people were already starting to pack, getting ready for the move.

Katrin had arrived that evening.

We all arrived the next morning. Bernt was busy giving orders. He turned to us.

“I want you to go and guard a bridge on the River Felthera. It is a netted bridge. With the new offensive, the enemy may attempt to seize it. We are expecting reinforcements at that outpost from the South, but in the meantime, I want you to go there and secure it. You should meet one of our patrols nearby. Led by Tom. He will give you more up to date information about the situation.”

We left. I hid my horse. We traveled by foot. Through the forest. Apari finding a path that no one else could see. He led us around a massive boar. We didn’t see it but I didn’t doubt his word. He came back a little later to tell us he had seen a couple of creatures ahead. Tall purple humanoids with big claws. Enjoying themselves in the bushes. Keeran had heard of them. Spider Keepers. Poisonous, used webs, could have big spiders as pets. Potentially dangerous to everyone and anything nearby. Apari was adamant that we should stop a colony of these forming here. We crept up on them. They were still busy. We all got ready. Apari made us fast. Keeran, very quick, rushed forward. Suddenly he stopped. The whole area around them was filled with sticky web. He had almost rushed into it. Frustrated, he took out his bow. He was joined by everyone else. We started shooting at the creatures. Several arrows downed them. They joined the ghosts.

As we prepared to leave, something started whimpering on a branch. I looked up and saw a big rat. A talking one. It jabbered at Apari who jabbered back. There was an elf in trouble nearby, Apari told us. The rat led us. It bonded with elves. We found a path. There was a figure on it. Cowled, covered in blood, crawling. Apari moved forward. We followed him. The figure suddenly turned around and tried to grab him. It missed. Then an orc rushed out at Keeran. It was a Fell. We killed it and the Fell elf. The rat wailed. Apari jabbered at it. It moved on to the body of the elf and started wailing. I wondered if the rat was a ghost. We left.

Moving forward on the path, Apari signaled for us to stop. He moved forward and then came back to tell us he had spotted someone. Maybe a scout. We moved forward. We were hailed. By a woman. She climbed down and led us to Tom’s patrol. Her name was Ina. She was wounded.

A group of orcs and goblins, led by an oruk had captured the bridge and they were cutting down the main tree. They had cleared the assassin vines at its foot. Assassin vines nearby had been goaded into a frenzy. It made moving on the ground perilous. They could make the plants and grass attack. Tom’s patrol had attempted to move through. They were repulsed. The assassin vines attacked everyone. They had killed two of his men. The orcs and goblins were on the Talons in the trees. The position was a triangle. The main tree was the point and furthest away from us. The oruk was there. Archers were positioned in the two base points. The triangle was connected with rope bridges except the base.

A plan was made. There was no time to be lost. Tom and his patrol would create a diversion. Apari would make Katrin and I fly. I would carry Keeran. We would attack the oruk. Apari would stay behind with Tom. He was too drained to do much else. The plan was put into motion. Arrows were exchanged between Tom and the orcs and goblins. We flew. The tree was being cut down. We saw the oruk. Landed next to it. It had a massive axe. It tried to hit me but missed. We didn’t. It hit Katrin. Then it died. Goblins ran around shrieking. Throwing javelins. Some hit Keeran and Katrin. One scratched me. The orcs appeared from the trees above. I flew up to fight them. There were four. One fell off the Talon in front of Katrin. They died soon. Then we mopped up the goblins. Keeran had gone unconscious, skewered with goblin javelins. Katrin bound him. She was also bleeding. Then we carried Tom and the others to the Talon. I flew over to the other side of the river. The Talons there were empty. Scattered around were the dead. I flew back.

We settled down to wait for reinforcements. Or enemy.
 

The Beginning of the Tale of Keeran the Knife

(This story is being told from the perspective of a human storyteller, Ghele, some years after the event)

"Now, the first time Keeran the Knife is mentioned in a story is this one, so sit quiet all of you, and I'll tell you about it."

"Keeran was part of Jez's band - of course you all know the stories about what THEY got up to, I've told you many times. This story is an early one. I'll tell you about the people involved in it."

"Firstly, Pallas the Quiet. He didn't talk much, Pallas, except to Apari Ghostwalker, but he was a mighty warrior. He was always there with the others, always stood side by side. The most dependable man you could ever want to fight alongside, and in those days you needed men like him."

"Katrin the Valourous, too. Firey, she was, with a bright blade and high spirits. Never gave up, and some say she had the power to truly hurt the forces of the Shadow when the need was great. When it came down to those fine moments between light and Dark, Katrin was there for you."

"Apari Ghostwalker, the Jungle Elf. He may have been quiet, he may have been cagey, but his magic and his sacrifices kept the others going. Although sometimes they never knew it. His sharp eyes and quick channeling was just the ticket, he always knew what to do in the face of the enemy."

"And of course Keeran himself. He wasn't Keeran Twoblades or Keeran the Knife yet, of course. For this story he was just plain Keeran, a former courier who'd left his brother for the first time to help the elves out, and never saw him again. That was the tragedy of it, he never really got to say goodbye to him. Keeran was a dark man, a violent man. He never formed much in the way of friendships, but those he trusted, trusted him right back."

"Zana the Sarcosan was also in Jez's band, but she's not in this story."

"Now on the day I want to talk about it, Jez's band had gone to a bridge on the Felthera, the old rope bridge that isn't there any more since the battle. There they were to help the patrol out there wait for reinforcements."

"Now then, when they got there they found that Tom O'the Bow was the patrol leader, and he and his men were in trouble. A band of goblins, and orcs, and an uruk, yes and uruk! had attacked them and were trying to cut down the central tree! They'd even cleared the vines out of the way and were using a huge saw to do it! Very worrying."

"Jez's band knew they couldn't let this happen, and Apari made Pallas and Katrin able to fly like birds so they could carry Keeran over to the big tree. They went up, up, up, high into the sky, then swooped down on the oruk standing there. He was big as a horse, the uruk, with an enormous axe the size of a man, but none of the Band hesitated."

"BANG! In went Pallas with his vargatch, SLICE! went Keeran with his orcslitter - he only used one then, the other one came later, and BOOM! went Katrin with a mighty blow indeed. The uruk howled in pain and struck back at Pallas, wounding him, and then Pallas lunged forwards again, cutting the uruk deep."

"And then Keeran, little Keeran dived and rolled forwards as the axe of the Uruk whistled over his head, and as he came to his feet he thrust out his orcslitter and he called out "For Tane!" and he struck that Uruk dead on the spot!"

"After that it was all over fairly quickly. Pallas and Keeran and Katrin killed all the other orcs and goblins that were hurting the tree, and kept watch. Now soon there were much worse things to come, but that's all you're getting tonight. But remember, it was Keeran that struck the blow, the littlest of them, and he struck it because he was quick, and clever. So even if you're not big and strong, you can still be the one that makes a difference."
 

Pallas's account, by Pallas's player:

The Mail Boat

We survived the next few days. A bonus. Then the reinforcements from the South arrived. More archers. They settled under Tom’s command. The netted bridge had been repaired. It was in our hands. Until the next time. We went back to Dargham’s Folly. We left Tom and his men behind. We probably wouldn’t see them alive again.

I took the Oruk half plate. There were some snickers. It still puzzled me that people didn’t understand. The point wasn’t loot. I had what I needed. It was denial of use to the enemy and use to people of our side. It was a massive amount of metal that could be made into armour, swords, shields. One Oruk half plate didn’t make any difference. But if everyone started taking things….. I had been laughed at all my life. It wasn’t new.

We went back to camp. The journey was uneventful. As we approached, it was nearing evening. Strangely quiet. People had probably gone to Treetown. Then we arrived. There were still some people in the camp. The smith was at the forge. Not working. Naith met us at the entrance. Told us to keep quiet. Bernt, the old man, was sleeping. For the first time in days, he said. So be it. It was a good idea. Then I heard hoof beats. It was Zana. She was back. She greeted everyone. Including me. I was a little surprised. Well she had a good swordarm; and she wasn’t dead. Yet. She and Apari were civil to each other. Better, considering she wanted to kill him the last time she had seen him.

Bernt’s idea was good. I was going to sleep as well. I went out of the camp and slept as usual. The next morning I went back. I picked up the half plate and took it to the smith. He looked at me.

“What do you want for this?”

“Nothing” I replied.

“This is really good steel”!

“Then use it well.”

I walked away. No one understood. It didn’t matter. It was one of the reasons we were all dead men. The smith just didn’t know it yet.

At that point, Katrin stuck her head out of Bernt’s building and called out: “Pallas, Apari, get in here.”

Apari came trotting over. I walked. The captain was awake. We entered into his Map Room. Katrin and Zana were already there. A map was spread out in front of them. The three were talking.

“Ah good. Now you are all here. First, who said that there were no ghosts in Treetown? Some are still there. We had a panic. Children were hurt. Everything is fine now but things were difficult. We really don’t need more tension between us and the elves right now. Things are not good.”

Apari looked down. It was his report. He had not mentioned the remaining ghosts. I don’t know why. I thought it was his affair. He mumbled that he said that the ghosts were no longer unfriendly to humans. He wasn’t convincing.

“So next time, don’t forget to mention such important factors in your reports.”

He’ll be lucky, I thought.

Bernt asked for a report of our activities near the Bridge. Katrin gave it. It was a short accurate report that failed to mention that the Assassin Vine had been cleared in a perimeter around the tree which supported one of the ends of the Netted Bridge. It left that tree and therefore the Bridge, very vulnerable. Boats full of enemy could land there unopposed from the forest. Bernt also asked whether we had seen any supply boats going up river. There had been none. Then he said he had another job for us. A place called Atta’s Camp. It was another encampment, South of the Felthera. It had been abandoned. Now, it was now in the hands of the orcs. A Hunt, Bernt said. That meant three score and some; and reports of a channeler. Going by Bern’t past record of intelligence about the enemy, I doubled that in my head; and probably more channelers as well as oruk. They had been trying to make a path between the camp and the River, but this path was veering mysteriously in the Forest. I thought this might actually be true. Things veered in the Forest. Like people’s minds. This information came from an elven scout who had been a prisoner in the Camp but who had been rescued. If we could retake the Camp and hold it, Bernt felt he could forge a link across the river between his forces here and Southern reinforcements. Bernt also told us that Tom had been in Atta’s Camp before and there was an escape tunnel there. Tom could give us first hand information.

For help we would have Horgred, leader of an orcman band. He was overdue. That meant he was dead. Also, if he could convince her, we would also have Ortemia, leader of another orcman band. She was helping halflings. She also wasn’t back yet. That left the four of us. Nothing new there. Katrin and Bernt then had another discussion. About Kraith, an orc general and the deployment of his forces. The situation of the Keep of the Cataracts, which seemed to be going badly for the orcs. Katrin then mentioned a “hypothetical” situation, whatever that meant. Bernt said that he would like to free the Keep of the Cataracts. Katrin didn’t like that. She preferred to talk “hypothetically” about the fortress at the Black Weir. Then they talked about the deployment of the orc legions. Katrin knew a lot about this. I became restless. We needed to go.

We arranged for supplies. Then we left. The journey back to the Netted Bridge was uneventful again. We hailed Tom and his comrades. We told them the news and the possible target. He had been to Atta’s Camp. He told us that they had seen a supply convoy going upriver towards the Keep. He didn’t look very happy about leaving the Bridge. He also said there was no sign of Horgred. We had a discussion about Apari scouting the Camp. Zana and Katrin were very much against it. We decided then to wait for Horgred. I thought we would be waiting for eternity. Then a call came in. A single mail boat was going to pass under the bridge soon.

A quick decision was made. We were going to attack it. There were eight oars and four orcs on deck. With crossbows. The plan was simple. Apari would make Zana and I fly. I would carry Katrin. Then we would engage the orcs while the archers sniped from the Talons. So it went. Drumming announced the approach of the boat. Soon it came into sight. Then Apari also made us fast. Katrin and I landed and started carving through the orcs. Zana followed up, no less effective. Orcs fell. They couldn’t touch Zana and I but Katrin was severely hurt. She had no shield. The orcs concentrated on her. With good effect. Again and again they struck her. I noticed Zana had a new way of using her shield. Effective. The fight was over quickly. All of us still stood. Katrin was pale and her wounds spouted blood. Apari gave some of his Light to her.

We had been lucky. That would run out.

There were two gnomes on the boat. Wendol and Ran Gale. Father and son. The boat was theirs. They were scared. Katrin convinced them they were safe. We took the supplies off the boat. Then we scuttled it. We had several barrels of supplies. A box of cheese. Another of hardbread. There was a barrel of poisoned jerky. A box of perfumed oils. The gnomes resigned themselves. They were still alive. For now. We settled down for the night.
 

Pallas's account, by Pallas's player:


We talked that night. I did as well. I was letting the others see me more. They were more resilient than other people I had known. We were facing an important battle. For the first time, we were going to have allies. If they weren’t dead. I took Katrin to one side, asked here to put several questions to people.

Tom was able to tell us about Atta’s Camp and its capacity. Inna told us about the position of the escape tunnel. The gnomes told us that they had been upriver to the Keep of the Cataracts. Twice. They were willing to tell us more when they were “safe.”

During the night several things happened. Horgred turned up. His men were hurt and exhausted. They had suffered fighting spiders and spider keepers. He did have some though. Ortemia also came. She had more men; they were fresher. Keeran and two other scouts came by. They reported tracks of a large body of orcs moving in a direction from the camp. Then they left. Finally, Saric arrived. A large Dorn, hairy, with a big axe and leather armour. He didn’t say a lot but he knew Zana and she knew him. Besides that, neither said a great deal. We had our force.

We made a plan. Horgred’s men had to rest the first day. We would take Tom and five of his archers with us as missile troops. We would march close to the camp the first day. Apari would scout it; to make sure it had not changed. Then we would go to the place where the tunnel was. We would all enter the tunnel and get inside. Then we would slaughter the orcs.

Our total forces were: 10 veterans, 24 youngsters, Ortemia, Horgred and Jez’s Band. Tom and five of his archers. No one knew what we were going to face. I had some ideas.

After resting, we moved. We skirted the spider-infested part of the forest. We arrived within a few miles of the camp. Apari went off scouting. Some time later he came back. He reported a large square building with a flat roof. It had an inner courtyard. Ladders were placed in this courtyard to access the roof. There was a palisade about 15 foot high on the outside of the building.. There was a large gate in one corner of the palisade. It had rubble piled next to it. This matched what Tom had said. The Forest had been cleared 60’ around the camp. There were five guards on top of the roof. Two wargs and their goblin riders moved in the courtyard.

We rested.

The next day, we moved on. Apari had recovered his magic. We arrived at the section of yellow oak, which hid the tunnel entrance. As we moved, Apari froze and came back. He said he could hear chopping. This was the orc road crew. They were making a path to the river. Or so they thought. We moved on and crossed their path. It was very wide. Then the scouts started searching for the tunnel. It took them time but they found it. Or a section of it. We moved in. It was ten foot wide. Again, it was what had been described. All of us moved in. Apari created some light. Some time later the tunnel came to an end and led to a trapdoor. Zana carefully opened it and was shoved up. She found herself in an underground opening. Inside the opening were two humans. They looked dead. They probably were. Zana checked them. They swore they weren’t. She agreed. They said that there had been an orc cohort in the camp but that many had left. The channeler was small and wore a cloak. Probably a goblin. The orc in charge was a Sleepless. He commanded a hundred orcs and had an eye tattooed on his forehead. A powerful foe. Above us was trap door that led to a store room and next to it was another room that had an orc in it. A Hound.

Zana moved to the trapdoor and cautiously opened it. As indicated, the room above was a store room. We all climbed in. Then she opened the door and saw the sleeping orc. She crept forward as well as she could and killed him. Then we moved in as many people as we could into the space of both rooms. We got ready to open the door. It would lead to the courtyard. Time to die.

Apari had made us fast. As soon as we opened the door, we saw a warg and his goblin at the far end of the courtyard. Zana charged. I followed her. So did everyone else. There were two orc guards by the large gate. They were killed quickly. So was the warg and his rider. One orc on the roof set off the alarm. The orcs on the roof pulled up the courtyard ladders. Their tactics were quickly apparent. Get to the high point. Deny roof access to us. Use the height advantage and hurl javelins. Set up on the roof. There was bellowing from one of the windows. The commander. He had to die.

Ortemia’s and Horgred’s men were also pouring out into the courtyard. They secured a ladder. Tom and his men started sniping at the orcs on the roof. Then we started clearing the building. In one room, we found some sleeping orcs and one on guard. Zana, Saric and Katrin dealt with them. I waited for support to tackle the orc commander. Katrin came out to help me. She shouted that someone had attacked her with magic. Apari produced a magical choking cloud in the building where the bellows had originated. I couldn’t go in. Katrin charged a window. Her room was empty. I ran to a door. It was barred. I hit it. It splintered. Inside I saw several orcs. One had an eye tattooed on his forehead. They were scrambling up a ladder inside the room. It led to the roof. Katrin and I caught a few. The Sleepless was too quick.

We killed the orcs on the ground. Katrin was hurt. I thought to go up to the ladder. Looked up. Too dangerous. I would be cut to ribbons. Went out. Saw Zana lying prone on the roof. Attacked by orcs. Saric was next to her. She and Saric were on their own. The orcs hurt her. Some of our orcmen joined her a little later. The orcs were forming ranks on the roof. Zana and Saric took the lead of the orcmen and made ready. Then one of the orcs grew. He became larger. So did his vardatch. The channeler again. The large orc charged towards Zana. So did two other orcs. Zana, Saric and the orcmen killed them but they were hurt. Then the Sleepless was made large.

Katrin had been healed. Apari made us fast. We moved as quickly as we could. The Sleepless was faster. He charged. He missed. Zana hit him. We moved. The other orcs helped the Sleepless. Katrin and I moved up the ladder. Saric moved back. The Sleepless hit Zana twice. She went limp. Katrin screamed. I knew. I had seen it before. She was dead.

Horgred, Ortemia and an orcman moved forward. They fought the Sleepless. Killed him. Then killed the last orc. The orcmen whooped. There was no more enemy to fight. They had won. They had only two dead. So far. They would learn. Katrin moved forward. Looked at Zana. Then she decapitated her. She took Zana’s sword.

We still had to find the channeler. No sign of him. We thought he was moving unseen the same way as Apari could. The orcmen swept the roof. They didn’t find anything. Then Apari told everyone to be quiet. A little later he led us to a room. As we approached we could hear it. A sobbing, quiet keening. Apari opened the door. We peered inside. Saw a little girl. She was holding her leg. It was laying at an impossible angle and swollen. Apari was taken aback. Katrin moved in, looked at her. I looked at her. Recognised the signs. She was trying to make sure we didn’t see her. I knew what she was doing. I had done the same for years. Katrin tried to react. She was too slow. I moved in and hit the channeler with my vardatch. She slumped.

Apari looked at me, shocked. I looked at them. Saw their comprehension. A little girl in an orc cohort. Katrin shook her head. Moved out of the room. Apari moved forward and slit the chaneller’s throat.

We moved out of the room. We had a lot to do.
 

The camp is secured, sentries are posted. Apari, who has been praying over Zana's body after Katrin called a moment of silence for the two calualties of the fight and the party's supplies of northberry are passed round for a memorial swig, receives the following Sending from Nayeen:

"A Door has opened. Dawn beckons. If ever, you are needed now. Come swiftly but safely. Bring your friends and bring the Blackened Blade."


Back in Dargham's Folly, the elves reveal that Kursu is believed to be the Star Blade, an item mentioned in an ancient prophecy known as the Song of Dawn, most of appears to be lost:

”...Star Blade, thrice sundered, four times made whole..."


They request that the party enter a similar place or state as when they rescued Daghu and Inúriel, by crossing into the White Sanctuary on the New Orc Road at a specific time, wearing amulets that appear to be made of polished stone. As far as can be gathered from the elves, the "stars and signs" say that the party should find a contact who will ask for help (which should be given) and offer help in return (which should be accepted, probably information that the elves hope will be useful in fighting the Shadow). The details are hazy, but this is what Inahas tells the PCs:

“This is how you shall know him:
'He partakes of the bread and mould of dawn.
His head is in the clouds but his ankles chained to straw.
He will address the one of you who is not present.
His are the robes of snow, and the lost wolf.'”

The party is also given an extra amulet because the elves believe that there will be an ally to be found who might join them. Whether or not that will be the man of the lost wolf is unknown at this point.
 

(Pallas's account, by Pallas's player: )


There was much to do. I searched the body of the chaneller. Found a twisted copper ring. Kept it. I would show it to the others later.

Katrin was making speeches. I didn’t pay attention. They seemed to be going well. The orcmen listened. They didn’t kill her. I had seen orcmen do that before.

Horgred and some orcmen left. They were going to deal with the work party clearing the path in the forest.

I prowled. Looked at the gates. Useless. They were closed but the fixings for the cross bar had been ripped out. I started to look around the buildings. Saw where the orcs had been quartered. Saw the storerooms, the toolsheds, the smithy, the quarters of the Sleepless and the girl. I made a note in my head of what was where. It would help. As I was doing this I saw that Katrin had brought Zana’s body to the courtyard. Apari was next to her, wailing in elven. I don’t know why he did that. He hadn’t liked her anyway and it didn’t achieve anything. Dead is dead. He had better get used to it. She wouldn’t be the last. I hoped he wouldn’t do that when I died. I wished he would hurry though. I had things I needed him to do. Such as look at the charm and search the rooms properly. I was good at searching but hidden things were hidden. He was better.

Apari was also cradling Zana’s sword. Strange. It was broken, blackened, useless.

While Apari was mourning I moved to Katrin. Whispered to her that she should question the two men we found in the camp. She called them. They were Rast and Benjin. An archer and a scout. They told their story. Numbers beat the camp. Probably a cohort. The orcs stormed. They had two oruk. One was made very large. He took orc warriors and put them on the roof of the building. Doing that, it was simple for the enemy to take over. The two oruk then barged through the gates. They captured some humans. The elven advisor was killed the first night. He took a long time to die. The humans were put to work. Clearing the forest path. Some died. Some were eaten. Then there were only these two left.

I looked at the collected booty. There was a good vardatch and breastplate, both belonging to the Sleepless.

Then Horgred and the others came back. They had no casualties. They had killed all the orcs. Night was beginning to fall. Apari had stopped praying. Quickly he came to us and whispered that he had had a message from Nayeen, the elven advisor from Dargham’s Folly. We had to go back and we had to bring the broken sword. It was important.

Decisions had to be made.

We had a meeting with Horgred and Ortemia. Katrin made a pretty speech. Ortemia and Horgred agreed to stay for a month and a day. They were not to be called camp guards though. I whispered to Katrin to ask Horgred to stay and tell us about the spiders and their keepers. He was willing though gloomy. He had lost nine good men. Veterans. They couldn’t have been that good if they had died. The spiders had spread very fast. Their poison made you clumsy. They had also laid a trap. Horgred had spotted it. He had also found a large group of orcs. He was leading them into that trap. After that he had to fight his way out. He didn’t know if he had succeeded in leading the orcs into a trap. He hoped so. Then Katrin and he went out drinking. Apari went outside to sleep. I went to sleep without drinking.

I saw Zana that night. She was talking with Jez. She was excited. I could see the expression on her face in the moonlight. She mimed a sword stroke. Jez imitated her but with two hands. Then Old Tom appeared. He smiled toothlessly at them. They looked at him. He gestured and a bastard sword appeared in his hand. It was glittering, as if it had captured the light of the moon. He mimed a sword stroke. The angle was subtly different. He did it again. Zana and Jez repeated the stroke. They made a gesture. A shield and a bastard sword appeared in Zana’s hands. A greatsword appeared in Jez’s hands. All of these glittered in the same way as Old Tom’s sword. They tried the stroke. Then they started sparring. Three strokes. One, two three; one, two, three. It was slow at first. Old Tom would stop them. Demonstrate. I remembered how he did that. Then they would start again. They became quicker and quicker. Watching them from a distance I saw another figure. A young elf. He looked like a scholar. I didn’t know him. He didn’t approach but he smiled at the two women. I saw him take a book out. Make a few notes. Then they all faded, with Old Tom grinning toothlessly. The glitter of the blades was the last thing to go.

I woke up. We had to go today. Apari was already in camp. Katrin said goodbye to everyone. On the way out, I picked up the breastplate of the Sleepless. Left my own in exchange. No one said anything. Katrin picked up Zana’s breastplate. We had to go via the Netted Bridge. Pick up the gnomes. We made our way through the forest. Apari scouted. Katrin and I walked. Silently. Then we heard a noise.

“My elf, my elf, here, here”!

It was the leaper, the small rodent. It leapt at Apari. I drew my vardatch. Last time that thing had appeared, there were Fell around. Sure enough, a figure could be seen approaching down the path. We got ready. Then Katrin gasped.

“Tam! Is that you?”

Then she sheathed her weapon and ran. She crashed into the figure with a clank of metal and a fierce embrace. I still wasn’t sure that he wasn’t dead. They separated. She introduced him as Tam, a warrior. Obviously an old friend. He talked a lot. Didn’t stop talking. Everything was boring. The forest, the trees, his life in the North, everything. I stopped paying attention soon. No Fell could talk that much that fast. Katrin and Tam talked to each other, joined by the rodent. They all made the same sense. Soon the leaper stopped talking as it was fed. Then it slept in Apari’s cloak.

We made it to the Netted Bridge where we spent the night. The gnomes had been no trouble and Wendol had started cooking. Katrin spoke to them. They would come with us to Dargham’s Folly. They had heard of Dimgol. Wendol was more sociable now. Ran was looking for a dead friend. He couldn’t see the dead yet, but at least he was looking. Maybe he would manage later. Maybe not.

The night was uneventful.

We traveled to the Camp. Tam still talked a lot. The gnomes were subdued though Wendol did talk. We got there. Something strange happened as we entered. For the briefest of moments I saw everything as if it had slowed. I saw the blacksmith’s hammer about to fall onto a piece of metal, people who had seen us open their mouths about to shout, a boy ever so slowly turn to run to Bernt’s hut; everyone looked at each other. They had felt the same thing. I didn’t know what it was but it hadn’t killed us. No point in worrying about it. Apari and Katrin went into Bern’s hut. I took the gnomes. Dimgol’s shop was open. We went there. Dimgol looked surprised. Then they started introducing themselves. I had seen that before. It would take a long time. They look pleased to see each other. Then I heard a shout. It was Tam. I was wanted.

I walked over to Bernt’s hut. Inside were Bernt, Nayeen, and two other elves I had never seen before. Male and female. First we had to make our report to Bernt. Katrin’s first attempt left out some things. I whispered some things to her. She told Bernt the rest. Then the elves started talking. Some of it I understood. They talked of the ghostworlds. That we could go into them like in Noyor Nin. Do things. Things that could help us here. Even I could see that the male elf was not comfortable talking about this. It looked as if it was difficult for him to believe that we had done what we had done in Noyor Nin. I tried to tell them what I knew of the Ghostworlds, how they could affect us, how sometimes they were closer and farther away. Not even the elves understood. I should have known better. I didn’t tell them I could sometime see into them. It was my secret.

They also said other things. Talked about prophecies and stars. About the future. I stopped paying attention. The future was unimportant. Today was what mattered and what we needed to achieve in the next few days. After that we could be dead. They also talked about Zana’s broken sword. It was important. They called it the Starblade. It was supposed to do something but they didn’t know what. I didn’t tell them about my dream. About the glittering blades wielded by both Zana and Jez. They wouldn’t believe me anyway.

We agreed to go into the Ghostworld. It wouldn’t be the first time. We were told someone in the Ghostworld would be our contact. I would believe it when I saw it. Our contacts in these missions were normally dead. We were given a shiny stone. This would help us and shield us there. They called it an amulet. We had to go to the White Sanctuary near the Black Mirror we had destroyed. If we went there at dawn on the third day, we would be able to enter the Ghostworld.

We supplied ourselves. Then at dawn on the third day, we entered the White Sanctuary.




DM's notes:

1. The name of the lost friend the gnome Ran keeps asking for is Therin.

2. It should be noted that Pallas's self-reported affinity to what he calls "ghostworlds" exists solely in the character's own mind.
 

As Apari and Pallas cross the Threshold, each PC has the briefest flash of a strange experience:


Apari Ghostwalker notices an impossibly stocky little man jogging beside his horse, whirling a slim black chain. He recognises the chain that wrapped itself around his forearm a while ago and now rests against the bone underneath the flesh, providing strange magical bonuses. From dreams Apari has had, he knows that this is Endiken, a dwarf channeler and former owner of the chain who was killed by orcs after running away forsaking his friends.
Their eyes meet, and for an instant it seems that Apari himself can sense the comforting cool of the adamantine wrapped around the dwarf's hand. It is like touching the deepest roots of the deepest mountains, and for the first time Apari understands that mountains are also living and growing things - much more ancient and much slower-growing even than the oldest and slowest trees of Erethor.

Then, as if diving through a water surface, he passes through from the crisp winter morning into warm, green light of summer dawn filtering through vines overgrowing high, crumbling walls of white stone. His heart is beating faster and his bones feel stockier almost as if he has melded with Endiken - in this Other Place the Ghostwalker is human, living a much faster, much more breathless life.


Pallas Ellinor suddenly finds himself caught in the middle of a celebration, whirling to a wild tune in a mad dance, swirling a woman with streaming hair - or three? The dance is too fast and breathless and Pallas too occupied with checking whether he still has all his weapons and equipment to quite gather whether it is mother, sister or lover or all three he is dancing with ... then his horse propels him through into the Other Place, where his local alter ego is a much younger Pallas, who secretly and without hope loves the young A'Hamran cook Sabba.


Meanwhile, in the very same Other Place, after hunting an Elven spy through the night the Imperial Guards Lieutenant Ara Zanir Than has finally run her quarry to ground in these ancient crumbling ruins. The warmth and flowery scents of a hot summer night linger in the green underwater light of dawn, and the elf stumbles at her horse's hoofs with a few of her arrows in him, just as a wash like cooler water drifts over her and she senses that someone arrives even before she hears his horse's hooves on the rubble ...


[OOC note: Katrin Baden's player randomling was away for this session, so she doesn't figure here. What Katrin encountered may be reported in a future post.]

Edit: Added bit to Pallas's crossing experience.
 
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