Session 2x8

Session 2x8 occurred on 26 Feb 2021. The players were Arkadien (Cigfran), Veron (Osric), Silvyr (Valdenar), SaintEsteban (Aravor) and PsychoXer0 (Romeron). Their goal was to make their way towards the druid hamlet of Cairnwell.

## Summary

The group departed Dryvault on Springrise 26. They went north and camped for the night in hex 014.021. That night they were forced to flee from the Blood Mist, except Osric whose coral armor seems to make him immune and even empowered by the Mist. Fleeing for the forest they camped again in 015.020.

The following day they set out late and camped again in 016.021 on the border of the forest. They found that there are convenient fallen trees bridging the river. Also, Valdenar found an ancient and ruined shrine to Raven, possibly defiled. Due to suspicion among the group, he did not immediately share this with the others.

The next day, the group met Cigfran's former mercenary band, The Fantastic Four. Through conversation with them, the party learned that Cigfran was a Raven Sister in disguise as a Sister of Heme. Cigfran was able to convince them to come work as hirelings in Dryvault, and they allowed the group to sleep and eat at their camp that night. These hunters also shared information about Cairnwell, Brother Wulfmaer, the Legend of the Doomborn, Is-mog, and Blood-Beak. They also mentioned that the majority of Raven Sisters in the area, including their employer Sister Bosa, were attempting to do something in the village of Faywater.

The group hoped to press on to find Brother Wulfmaer at Sky Summit and negotiate a bounty for the slaying of the Hydra after checking on Cairnwell. However, they did not make it to the vine-hedge before being confronted by Rhodendor, a treant ally of the Druid Zythra who sealed Cairnwell. With aid from his allies, Valdenar was able to convince the treant not to slay them all despite Osric's coral armor and mask. The treant also asked Valdenar if he would "repent". After agreeing, Valdenar's Pride was removed, his scars were healed, and he was accepted into service of the Raven.

Departing the terrifying presence of Rhodendor, the group camped in hex 019.022. They were attacked overnight by strange shrub creatures which were defeated by Osric and Romeron. However, the group was unable to push on to the mountains and returned to Dryvault via the Begrand Valley.

## In-character tales

### Aravor's tale

*After several hours of sitting in silent contemplation, Aravor sits up abruptly and begins speaking.* "I've gathered my thoughts and am prepared to speak of our journey to Cairnwell." *He continues on, not seeming to notice or care if anyone is listening.* "Valdenar, who showed me kindness when I first arrived in Dryvault, was leaving town in search of Blood-Beak and the sealed druid village. Seeing he and his companions were few in number, I offered to accompany them. Had they left town a mere half hour earlier, I would not have seen them, or what followed. I don't believe in coincidences, however. This was the will of Clay. That is the way of things."

"Also accompanying Valdenar were Cigfran, Osric, and Romeron. I'm not certain I would have agreed to venture out with Osric had I seen him first, but my choice was made, so I did not voice any objections. In the end, we would likely have perished without him, and I would place my life in his hands again without hesitation. Sometimes we find salvation in the strangest of places. That is the way of things."

"Cigfran knew a fair bit about Cairnwell. It was founded by the powerful druid Zythra, a friend of Blood-Beak, and was apparently sealed off from the outside world. Only those who were pure of heart could enter, the rumours said. I was entirely certain Clay would not guide my steps to the village if they did not have some purpose for me, so was entirely unburdened by this knowledge. While Cigfran wore the robes of a Sister of Heme, causing the others to distrust her, and Osric's coral armour is unsettling, to say the least, I could see no reason Romeron, Valdenar, or I would be denied entry."

"Our first night out of Dryvault, I attempted to hunt, using a sling my new friend Valdenar had given me. While pursuing my game, however, I twisted my ankle. I returned to camp a hobbled failure, only to find the others packing up. I saw the looks on their faces shortly before tasting copper on the air, and knew the Blood Mist would soon be upon us. I turned to run toward the treeline, as any sane person would, with Osric helping me along. I was grateful for his aid, while Romeron had hauled Valdenar off his feet and was quite literally carrying him away. I saw Cigfran off in the distance, but due to my ankle, was not able to keep pace and was separated from the others. I lost sight of Osric almost immediately, and feared him lost to the Mist."

"The Mist attempted to invade my mind, as it is fond of doing, but I steeled myself and continued on. I knew I could not resist it for long, however, and owe my life to Romeron. That dwarf is one of the most courageous kin I have ever met. I doubt there are many who would willingly step into the Blood Mist. He *charged* in to help me escape the Mist. Reaching the edge of the forest, it seemed our troubles with the Mist were behind us, but Osric was nowhere to be seen, and poor Valdenar was so shaken as to barely be able to move or speak. I can hardly blame him, considering the unearthly cries of the creatures in the Mist and their disturbing outlines. We set up camp largely in silence. What was there to say?"

"When I woke, I found Osric in camp, none the worse for wear. I have no idea how to explain it, but ask that others do not treat him with distrust. When he was needed later in our journey, he stood tall and proud against our foes. I trust him despite my initial misgivings, and would encourage others to do so, as well."

"We set off further into the forest and found a river with several fallen trees across it. Investigating, we determined they had been used as bridges to cross this area, and decided to explore a bit, and see if we could find clues that would lead us to Blood-Beak or Cairnwell. Valdenar was looking quite sullen at this point. When the Blood Mist had pursued us, he had frozen up, apparently unable to move or speak. I attempted to comfort him, but fear my words had little effect."

"While exploring the area, our scout warned us that we were being watched, and we spotted four figures armed with bows lying in wait for us. Upon seeing Cigfran, however, they offered to parley, and were a fairly good source of information, despite..." *Aravor gestures at Ranganhar and the others at their own table in the inn, loudly playing some sort of drinking game.* "...well, you see what I mean. It seems these... fine folks were in the employ of the Raven Sisters, specifically one Sister Bosa. The sisters were behind in payment, however, and our newfound companions had little faith she would return from Feywater."

"Ranganhar and his group filled us in on the situation. Apparently, none had entered or left Cairnwell in years. A treant by the name of Rhodendor guarded the village against interlopers, and would allow none to pass. I had never met Artan or Gregor before their untimely demise, but from the stories I heard, that gave me reason to be wary of this Rhodendor."

"These men also told us they had previously been traveling companions of Cigfran, though apparently they parted ways a while back. They made some mention of her being a Raven Sister in the past, but I care little for which false god one chooses to follow. Blood-Beak had not been in the area since Winterwane, and was currently believed to be around Dryvault, seeking out Teramalda, an old enemy of hers. They invited us to their camp for a hearty meal and to hear more tales. While I was reluctant, since..." *He gestures at the four marauders again.* "...I made no protest and we joined these brigands for a spell. We broke bread and drank wine together, and traded a bit while resting in their camp. I suppose there are worse sorts out there, and made no protest when Cigfran recruited them to join us in Dryvault."

"While in their camp, they told us of many things. They had knowledge of the ghost in Cask, and told us IS-MOG, in Feywater, had gone through a falling out with the Rust Brothers and was now pursuing its own goals." *He raises his drink.* "A toast to all of our enemies turning on each other in such a fashion! They also mentioned a legend of the Doomborn, who had sought a map to find a cave hidden beneath Blaudwater Lake. They apparently failed in their journey, and legends differed on what could be found within the cave. More troublingly, they spoke of strife among the Raven Sisters, whom I had hoped could be our allies against the Rust Brothers. Apparently this feud was all that was holding them together, as they were feuding with Zythra and an elven prophet by the name of Geno, and seemed to have little unity."

"Most interestingly, they told us of one Brother Wulfmaer, who had gone to Sky Summit for a religious festival of some sort, and was offering a bounty for the slaying of the hydra troubling our surroundings. We decided to bring him the meat he requested and set out for Sky Summit by way of Cairnwell, with Valdenar wishing to pass by that village first, to see if they would allow him entrance. I believed I would also be able to enter without issue, and agreed with this course of action. Brother Wulfmaer was requesting a fresh kill be brought to him as tribute, so the woods seemed a sensible path."

"As soon as we set foot near Cairnwell, however, a horrifying wail pierced the forest. It seemed Rhodendor was not pleased with our coming. Looking to Cigfran and, in particular, Osric, I could hardly judge. His wail was fearsome, even affecting Romeron, who had shown no fear as he plunged into the Blood Mist itself to save me. I'm not sure whether it was my clarity of purpose or bond to all Clay's creations which allowed me to remain unfazed, and I'm even less certain how Osric was not effected. Cigfran and Valdenar, meanwhile, turned and fled. To be clear, I blame them not for doing so. Luckily for us they ran in the same direction, and we followed."

"Valdenar fell as we fled, and Rhodendor was gaining on us, a massive, misshapen, spider-like tree. I would not abandon Valdenar, however, and tried to bring him to his senses. I likely would have failed had Osric and Romeron not also turned back to aid our friend." *An unusually serious expression crosses Aravor's face.* "If anyone speaks ill of any of those who went into the woods with me, I will have words with them. What I witnessed that day was bravery of the first order."

"Rhodendor was soon upon us, and spoke in a booming, commanding voice that sent chills through my very bones. I regret to say that I left all the talking to Valdenar, I was in such awe of this creature. I'm sure it had much knowledge we could have learned from, but I stood rooted firmly in place. Valdenar did a fine job pleading our case, however, and convinced Rhodendor to allow us to leave unharmed. I could not have made a finer case myself. After he painstakingly explained how our friend Osric had been cursed by Rust, Rhodendor offered to remove the coral mask from him. Osric refused."

"I admit I lost my temper at that moment, and asked him if he was mad. Rhodendor did not begrudge him his wish, however, and allowed us to leave. Only when Valdenar turned to go did he call out, and shivers pass through me when I so much as think of what happened next. He leaned down and asked Valdenar to *repent*."

"Valdenar knelt before Rhodendor, and was handed a seed and told to swallow it. He did, and I saw horrific scars upon his neck at that point. They healed before my very eyes, however, as his pack fell from his back. Broken objects spilled everywhere, and Rhodendor gathered them up, forming them into a strange suit of armour. He also placed a helm upon his head, and granted him a sword and a shield. I found myself completely unable to speak. With that done, we all left, a new purpose in Valdenar's stride, his hood forgotten as he faced the world with the air of a new man. Rhodendor spoke of him having a great destiny. I cannot deny that seems to be Clay's will, and I will give my all to help him achieve it."

"While we were not able to press Rhodendor for further information, he did share a bit. He told us the Blood Mist would end soon, but Cairnwell would not open until the land was cleansed of demons and Rust Brothers. He granted Valdenar a vision of Cairnwell, an idyllic village populated by hundreds, safe and secure from the horrors of these Ravenlands. He also warned us that a clan of dwarves were marching to retake their city from demons, and war would be upon us soon. Conflict can sometimes be unavoidable, that is the way of things. I wish these dwarves luck."

"We pressed on a short distance before making camp for the night."

"Romeron proved to be our salvation that night, as he roused us from our sleep while some bushes closed in on our camp and attacked. Cigfran was still enfeebled from her encounter with Rhodendor, and I did my best to help her snap out of it, telling her we needed her for the fight ahead. The bushes were ferocious foes, however, quickly moving to wound me and knock me down, while Cigfran was also knocked out at some point. Romeron cleaved through them like a dwarf possessed, however, saving us, while Osric held the bushes on the other side of our camp off with the aid of Valdenar. Eventually my companions triumphed, though to my shame I was of little assistance. We decided returning to Dryvault would be the best course of action, and returned safely."

"This is just the beginning of Valdenar's journey. I am sure of that, and will provide whatever humble aid I can. That is the way of things."

### Cigfran's tale

Aravor, Romeron, Valdenar, Osric and Cigfran return to Dryvault alive and accompanied by four new faces. They introduce themselves as Raganhar (Ailander), Wulfrig (Alderlander), Lana (Wolfkin) and Raerepina (Alderlander) and waste no time to hit the Flaming Spike, where they are joined in by Cigfran shortly after.
As they sit around a table, eating and drinking to their heart's content - albeit Cigfran less so - any eavesdroppers may overhear the Sister of Heme inquiring as to their willingness to offer lessons to the other adventurers as part of their collective wage of four silver every fortnight, to which they agree.

### Osric's tale

#### 26th of Springrise

 I must confess that I’m glad to be leaving Dryvault again so soon after my return. The hunger for blood makes staying at the tavern a draining endeavour, and at least in the wilds there may be opportunity to sate it.

 We left at dawn as we always do, headed for the woods north of the mountains. Valdenar hopes we’ll find Blood-Beak and the druids that oppose the Brotherhood. The trek through the pass and into the plains was quick and we made good time, but our luck changed as night fell. Cigfran smelled the copper on the air as we set up camp. Blood Mist. We packed quickly and made to run for the treeline. Valdenar froze with fear, Aravor came stumbling back from hunting on an injured ankle as the mist rolled in… They didn’t stand a chance of outrunning the mist.

 That’s when something called me... into that dark swirling red. I obeyed. I heard her voice on the wind and my feet answered. I felt at home, for the first time in a long time. The armor grew as it fed voraciously on the air. The hunger was finally gone. But I was not the only creature sating myself in the mist. These insects of some kind, massive and horrible in visage, skittered around me and harvested the coral growths. I believe these monsters may very well be what kills in the mist, and their attention focused on me prevented them from slaughtering my companions.

 Part of me feels I should be concerned about how the armor is changing me, but truthfully I’ve never felt so alive. The gnawing hunger that comes and goes is nothing compared to what I felt in the mist. Call in madness or arrogant folly, but I’m really beginning to believe this armor might be a blessing from the Lady herself.

#### 27th of Springrise

 The dwarf, Romeron, seemed almost angry I made it out of the mist come morning. He doesn’t understand. I wouldn’t expect him to. We mostly lost the day to rest from the Bloodmist.

#### 28th of Springrise

 We were breaking camp just after dawn when I noticed we were being watched. The foliage moved in a way that didn’t match the wind. We were preparing for an ambush when Cigfran stepped into the open and called out to them. By coincidence, our prospective attackers were her old companions. Ranganhar, Lana, Raerepina, and Wulfrig. She apparently used to be some sort of mercenary, and under the flag of parley her former cohorts invited us back to camp.

My companions tell me the food was good. I had to make due with the stories the mercs told us. Cairnwell apparently sits empty, guarded by some horrible tree monster they call Rhody. Blood Beak, the one we hoped to find out here in the woods, is apparently back the way we came west of Dryvault. Zythra, the druid we hoped Blood Beak would lead us to, is nowhere to be found. However a shaman or some such religious figure named Brother Wulfmaer is up at Sky Summit for a festival, and may be willing to offer a bounty for that singing hydra in the mountains. So while it’s quite clear that what we expected to find will not be found, we did manage quite a bit of knowledge we didn’t have before. I also was able to trade timber for arrows. I heard we were running low back in town.

#### 29th of Springrise

 A monster, a miracle, and a memory I won’t soon forget. Late last night Cigfran convinced Ranganhar and the others to come work with the people gathering in Dryvault. As we got up this morning, we had a serious conversation about whether or not we were going to risk taking a look at Cairnwell. Whatever reservations we had, Valdenar’s arguments to at least take a look at what we came all this way for won out. So we looped south, as careful as we could, but we had no idea what we were walking into. What “Rhody,” as the mercenaries called it, was really like.

 Three or four men. That’s about how tall it was. We spotted it just as it noticed us. The dense trees blocked it from a clear path of advance but it rushed towards us all the same, going around when it had to. Its mere roar broke the resolve of both Cigfran and Valdenar. They immediately tried to flee for the deep woods away from Cairnwell, but Valdenar was too slow in his terror. He’d had too poor a start. He was too close. So Aravor, Romeron, and I stayed to try and snap him out of it. That divine force of forest and fury bore down on us as Aravor shook Valdenar from his terror. With the little time we had left I readied to engage the guardian, hoping to live long enough against Rhody’s onslaught for us to get away.

 But Valdenar, his senses returned to him, did something far more mad than the terrified flailing we shook him from. He threw himself to the creature’s feet and begged its mercy. Eighteen cubits of hate ready to crush him beneath a trunklike leg and he prayed the damned thing’s forgiveness. And it worked.

 Rhodendor, guardian of Cairnwell, horror of the Grovewood, looked down at Valdenar and pitied him and us so. It even offered to remove the armor from me, as Valdenar had convinced it I was cursed by Rust, as though I hadn’t donned this mask of my own will. I would not have my blessing taken from me. I refused. Still, its hand was stayed, but its voice assaulted our ears with the rumbling of thunder overhead. “Leave, and do not return here. Cairnwell is closed to the outside so long as it is threatened by the taint of demons.” I have a feeling it means an end to the brotherhood at Deadhook. If that is the case, Cairnwell will be closed for quite some time.

 This miracle of supplication was not the end of Valdenar’s surprises though. As we made to leave Rhodendor bade him to stop and come closer. He had Valdenar kneel before him. Spoke to him but a single word. “Repent.” A seed was placed upon our compatriot’s tongue, and he swallowed it. The gruesome scars on Valdenar’s neck healed as we watched the seed pass down his throat. The great pack fell from his shoulders as though some great guilt he was carrying had crashed to the ground, and Rhodendor fused the contents into armor, shield, and sword. The guardian then gave Valdenar a task, the cleansing of some shrine to the Huntress. We all stood speechless and watched. The gravity of the moment was inescapable. Pulled all of us into it. Rhodendor’s final gift… Valdenar was allowed to see what lay within Cairnwell.

 After we left, he told us he saw an entire town. Not just some hamlet or little village, but a veritable city of hundreds all locked away from the world. All of them defended by this monster of the wood. It’s an unbelievable thought. But it’s been an unbelievable day.

#### 30th of Springrise

 We’ve returned to Dryvault. Seems the mercenaries made it. I can’t stop thinking about what happened to Valdenar. The purpose of it. I can’t shake the feeling that my armor and his are no different. This blessing I’ve been given… I can’t ignore it any longer. Heme and Rust are watching me. They called to me in the mist. I can not, I will not refuse them.

 All this time I’ve been running from my past with the Brotherhood. They abandoned me out there. Left me to die in the wilds. Rust and Heme teach us that family, loyalty, it’s everything. Dereliction of duty to one another is tantamount to death in the eyes of the gods… and yet they left me. I didn’t leave them. They left me. He left me. Brother Bhaalim left me to die.

 These people here. The brothers told me the elder kins, orcs, all of them were responsible for the horrors that befell the world. But Romeron came back for Aravor in the mist while I kept those creatures occupied. Tyriok, Bea, Gregor, even Galen risked a confrontation with that death knight Jasna just to get the bodies of our fallen back. These people know duty to each other like it’s instinct to them. Like the old wars don’t matter in the face of what’s out here.

 These signs. The struggle, the pain, the loneliness, and terror… Gifts. Gifts from the Great Father and Mother. Rust and Heme have guided me the whole way. It’s finally clear to me. The Brothers have been led astray. There is a poison within the house of Rust and Heme. I have been sent to BURN. IT. OUT. I am no longer afraid. I will no longer run. Brother Bhaalim… you will be but the first.

### Romeron's tale

We left Dryvault and went North according to my traveling companions Valdenar, Osric, Aravor and Cigfran this was a safe way. Osric gave me the feeling of someone who has been cursed but it seems he did willingly agree to the hideous looking creature he is now. Cigfran dresses like a sister of Heme which makes me sick to my stomach.

We stopped to camp that evening and everything seemed to be going well until Cigfran shouts that blood mist is approaching our camp. We quickly gathered our belongings and started to leave with haste when Valdenar just stopped moving and refused to move. Cigfran tried to talk to terrified fool but we had no time for this so I picked him up and started running as fast as I could out of the way of the blood mist. Cigfran and I made it out of the blood mist with Valdenar in tow but poor Aravor had injured their leg during an hunting session earlier and wasn't with us also Osric was no where to be seen. I threw Valdenar towards Cigfran and ran back in to the bloodmist when I heard Aravor's desperate cries for help. I found the Half-elf limping in the mist and took him on my shoulder and ran away again, they told me that Osric had spoken to them inside the mist and told them it would be fine. We made it out of the mist without any problems only Osric had been left behind.

We continued our traveling towards the forest Valdenar was adamant that we need to get to the deep forests of Cairnwell not a place dwarves should go, elves rule in those lands and who knows what else. While resting Valdenar and Cigfran were talking about things and Cigfran kept going on and on about the Rust brothers, Rust and Heme and all that demon worshipping rubbish they always go on about. To me it felt she didn't truly believe what she was saying and it eased the pit in my stomach and my growing anger. Later we stumbled on some bandits who seemed to know Cigfran and just went straight on asking for a parley and here I hoped to hack on some living bone for once. They talked and talked and finally agreed to some kind of meal which to my surprise was very delightful, we also did some trading with them and then finally Cigfran offered them work at Dryvault which to my surprise they agreed to.

After a good night sleep we finally were going to the location where some of the other adventures had perished. We barely made it through the forest when a large scream rumbled in my ears causing me to feel like a pebble next to a mountain. The fear did not subside I saw the creature come through the trees a massive ent with spiderly legs and burns all around its tree trunk body. Then I saw something that I can't describe Valdenar talked down the monstrosity and made some kind of cleansing ritual with it and because of that we could leave without having us be turned into moss food, I carried Cigfran out of the deep forest since they had injured themselves and couldn't move. While camping and trying to heal our wounds we again found ourselves under attack this time by living bushes. The fight did not last long under the weight of mine and Osric's axes. At this point we decided the smart course would be to return to Dryvault instead of pushing on...

### Valdenar's tale

*A sealed letter written in a bold and flowing hand, the paper marked by tears.*

Blessed Raven! I write to you not as the wounded man you knew and tended, but as one whose flesh and mind are finally healing, renewed with glorious purpose! But forgive me, I risk telling the tale back to front.

As I have compiled in my reports, much has happened in and around Dryvault. But it was not until the 26th of Springrise that I myself set out in search of Blood-Beak and Cairnwell. I confess I had misgivings about my companions, one of whom wears the garb of a Sister of Heme and another whom I fear is being corrupted by some foul relic of Rust. We travelled north to the Harga. That night the Blood Mist came upon us and, to my shame, I was overcome by terror and unable to move. They tell me that Romeron picked me and my gear up and bore me to safety, and then returned *into* the mist to save Aravor, who had injured themselves on the hunt. We surely owe that brave dwarf our lives. Osric, who bears the coral mask, stayed within the Mist. I know not what happened but the next morning he strode forth, unfazed. I fear he is a servant of Rust indeed.

We pressed on to the forest's edge. There I was led by the Raven to an ancient and ruined shrine, long since abandoned and defiled. Defiled, but not for long! For I mean to return there and restore it to its former glory. We pressed on to the forest. There we were accosted by some in your employ, and learnt that Cigfran is not all that she appears to be. The mercenaries, I fear, were not pleased at the inconsistency of their wages. They have joined us in Dryvault. I trust has not been an error. We learned much from them, my own intelligence being badly out of date.

The next day we pressed on to Cairnwell. In foolishness and pride I hoped that I might pass beyond its limits. But I was utterly broken and terrified by the roar of the Treant Rhodendor, guardian of that place. My companions roused me from my stupor and I went forth to beg the creature for mercy before it slew us all. Thank the Raven that it heard my plea. It told us we could not pass the wards, and my heart fell. But then, it offered me an opportunity to repent…although I knew not what the repentance it demanded would mean, I could not resist to hope against hope and took my chance. Thanks be for that fickle courage! For I have been shriven of my burden and clothed in the garb of the Raven. My body healed, and my spirit set free. A Holy Vow now binds my purpose, and I would not forsake it for anything, even were it not for Rhodendor’s veangance such treachery would invite. We left that guarded place and moved on. That night we were attacked by strange creatures and felt we could not carry on into the mountains, but rather had to retreat to Dryvault once more. I do not know what to think of Osric, for he has proved a steadfast companion despite the cursed armor he bears, and I could easily have fallen then and there had it not been for him. Such thoughts and minor setbacks do little to dispel the joy and exultation that course within me. For I know now that I am not broken, not discarded, not burdened any longer. I am lifted up by the knowledge that my life has a meaning. A purpose. A Destiny. I am the Seed. I have made the Vow. I *will* restore the Shrine.