The Lords of Farkash IV

Morning of the 2^nd Silverday of Sprouts, somewhere in the mountains

You wake up to the smell of roasted bread and cheese. The Knights of the Order have rekindled the campfire that hisses in the light rain and placed your breakfast before you and watch you from a respectful distance.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake nods thanks and wakes Avert, the two of them sharing a meal beneath the watching eyes of the Seekers. Avert stares suspiciously at them, but does not say a word. When they are done, Perilake rises and the two begin breaking camp, the seekers leaping to help. "Sir Gorny," He asks as their steeds are made ready and they prepare to depart. "I have met Seekers who swear to protect the Child, and Seekers who are sworn to destroy them. What can you tell me of this schism?" "And of the Mother." Avert interrupts before Gorny can respond, his face intent atop his strange steed. "Tell us of Mother.

Referee

The other Knight, barely older than Avert has taken the lead and rain is falling on his tonsured head. Gorny is riding behind Avert. “The mother is an example for all of us, steadfast in her belief during the years of waiting… even when others were doubting, humble and … “ he hesitates .” … and kind!” He raises his voice to address Perilake. “The heretics are all outsiders from Altenburgia. They are evil apostates who … “ he shudders ”… in their blindness they are willing to commit heinous acts. But their minds are confused and they even fight amongst themselves.” Midmorning you ride along a deep gorge and see a fortified cloister on the other side, a massive outer wall under construction around the monastery, and a bell tolls again to announce the hour. At noon you reach the foothills and take a short rest in the lee side of a mound and soon after you hear angelic singing from a humble chapel. You leave the steeds behind and enter and the Knights kneel in the small dim room and some nuns turn around and nudge each other and one after the other they fall silent and you hear the shuffling of feet and you are ushered to a back room and to a simple cell where an old woman in brown habit is kneeling at a window. A young nun next her whispers in her ear and steadies her when she turns around and upon seeing Avert's face almost feints. Before you or Avert can move she composes herself. “I need to speak to my husband … alone.”she says in a strange hoarse voice. “Take my son to his cell and bath him and … cut his … “ she curls her lips “ … immodest hair.”

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

The young nun moves to obey, but stops when Perilake stands closer to Avert. The Knight rests a hand on his son's shoulder, and he reaches out with the other. "Inga, my love. Please, a moment, as a family, before anything else." Perilake's voice has always been as golden and strong as the armour of legend, but it barely holds now, a deep fracture of emotion threatening to break it entirely. "Let us take back a moment from what was stolen."

Referee

Inga nods at the novice who takes a step back and waits at the door. “What was stolen is gone forever and cannot be brought back.” Her voice sounds different, older and lacking the warmth you remembered. Her eyes greedily take in Avert's face and the young man looks confused from one parent to the other. “I waited ...” her voice breaks and she closes her eyes. “I will take care of my son now.”

Anastaz, you ride all morning through the mountains and at noon you stand before the cave, soaked by a steady drizzle and feverish from a sleepless night. The ancient acolytes await you and lead you into the tunnels, the air warm and dry and filled with the sound of chimes. Finally, the child awakens and peers out from under the blanket; if the acolytes recognize them, they don't show it. The inner sanctum is lit with candles. There are fewer acolytes than you remember, and some of them are armed with daggers. Between them lies the Cured Seer, emaciated and encrusted in salt.

Echo Caves

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

"Cured Seer, I have travelled long and far to seek your counsel. I have come to ask where the Needle Relic can be found, though on my journey a more pressing matter has arisen." He holds up the child to the assembled acolytes. "What is to be done with the Child?" He waits for an answer, and slowly kneels at the Cured Seer's side.

Referee

Your words echo through the caves, your apparent transgression only met with incredulous stares from leathery faces of which many are covered with ancient fading tattoos. The Cured Seer lies silent and unmoving in their block of salt.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight sets the Child beside him, still holding on to its hand, and licks the Seer's shoulder.

Referee

The floor of the cave rushes towards you and next you see

Sir Ludmer, smiling next to his lowborn wife - A heap of jewels and a wolf before a burning hut, Seeker Knights slain before them - The child improbably walking before you on the surface of the sea – The Trail Knight, strangling his wife with the same smile and a horn sprouting from the side of his head - The Veiled and the Entangled and the Entombed Seer lying next to each other with their horse like hair and countless limbs and dusty bones, bleeding from many wounds and the brotherhood of the Black Fleece, one after the other, step forward and dip their weapons in the pooled blood - The Child is looking over their shoulder and behind them lie the spires of the City bathed in golden light.

Heldris, in the morning you keep an eye out for the return of the messenger bird from the battlements but there are only grey clouds in the sky and you pull your tunic around your shoulders against the light rain. You hear sawing and hammering from the carpenters who are reconstructing the gate; Kranach soldiers and Masurian Hussars stand in line in the courtyard and Voijtech and Captain Gergana pass below you with a handful of guards. Finally Zoltan and Captain Hroshka approach you to take their leave. When the Pigeon Knight shakes your hand he holds it for a moment.. “ I trust you will rule with firm hands … “ he pauses as if worried by the implication before adding, “ ... and just and kind. Until we meet again Dove Knight, at Masur Keep for Sceptremass!”

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

"Then let us have one moment to ourselves, and take care of each other." He nods at the nun. "For just a moment, please sister." Perilake reaches out to draw Inga and Avert into an embrace.

Referee

Inga goes stiff as you embrace her. The nun tries to pull Avert away but he resists and holds on to his mother. He starts crying.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake releases his wife and son, allowing Avert to pull his mother into a deeper embrace, and stands quickly his face a mask of barely controlled rage. "Take your hands off my son, nun. You would take him away again, after all he has suffered?" He snarls. "I have fought time itself to bring him back to his mother, and you dare try to snatch him away?"

Referee

The novice startles at the ferocity of your words and retreats back to the door. Avert is kneeling before his mother, his arms around her and his head in her lap. Inga caresses his hair and whispers soothingly in his ear. Then she looks up. “When you allowed … when our son was taken from us", she corrects herself " ... I prayed to the Mother to bring him back. And I waited and prayed for year after year.” There is a strange ecstasy in her eyes. “Now the mother has answered my prayers: The Child is born and my son has returned to me.” She speaks in a formal liturgical tone now as if preaching from the pulpit. “I believe the Mother has plans for my son that will be revealed in time. Maybe he will become a prophet or a hermit or a saint. But his future is in the church.” She helps Avert to his feet. “Will you allow sister Ecatarina to take care of our son or will you stand against the will of the church?”

The Chapel of the Child

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilakes despair at what has become of his wife can only be seen in the tears in his eyes, the tremor in his hands. But his voice is strong once more as he looks between his love and their son. "The will of the church, or of my wife? Of Avert's mother? Of Lady Inga of Svenrik, the kindest woman this kingdom has known?" He kneels before Inga, the tears falling silently down his face. "It is not my place to stand against your will. Yet it is not so simple." "I promised I would return our son to you, and for each of us that has been...a journey of a different span. For him, it has been a score of seasons since he last saw you." Perilake traces the outline of Ingas face with a hand, not daring to reach and touch "For you, an age." He whispers, before regaining his strength. "For me.... I still see your face as it has been in all my dreams and memories, my love. The face I see now." "It is a... hard thing, I know. But Avert is no longer a child." Perilake bows his head. "That was taken by the Elf before I found my way to the thrice ninth kingdom. And it was only with the aid of the clever young man he has become that we were ever able to return." Perilake looks to Avert. "The Elf stole you, and even as we walked the path back to home, the wizard Ashling stole yet more; the years of our life together cruelly snatched away. I would find him in King Barows court and tear those years from his entails if such a thing was possible, if such a thing would spare you this burden, Avert." He looks to Inga. "I would tear them from myself if it would spare either of you any more pain." "What is the will of my family? What is the will of our son?

Referee

Anastaz, when you come to, you lie on a straw bed. A white-haired acolyte cradles the child and feeds them sweet milk. In the candlelight, you see bread and dried fruit on a blanket on the floor. When the acolyte notices that you are awake, she hands you the child, who watches you intently with bright blue eyes. All is silent except for soft, shuffling steps echoing through the distant tunnels.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

As the sun shines down on the hills outside the Sanctum, Anastaz saddles up Tibor. The Child rests in a sewn pouch strapped to the Salt Knight's chest. He looks down at the babe, and the Child meets his gaze smiling and not flinching. It has yet to cry. "To be destined for greatness is a cruel fate, little one. The people will cry out for their savior, but you will lead an unexceptional life, I promise you." Tibor huffs, and gallops northwest.

Referee

Avert is still holding Inga's hands, unwilling to let go. “Please forgive me, father, but … I want to stay here, I want to…” He lets out a deep sigh. “Mother is right—we cannot bring back the years that were stolen from her, but I can't leave her again.” She pulls him towards her, tucks his long hair behind his ear, and lovingly touches the side of his face. She turns to you and says softly, “It is my will, and it is the will of your son. But you need to see that fate has brought you here: the Child is born, and the Lost Son has returned on the same day, in the same place!” You hear whispers behind you. Dozens of nuns are kneeling in the narrow hallway, their faces hidden in shadow but their eyes ablaze with rapture. She addresses them as much as you. “Let it be known that you have kept your promise and returned your son. You will always be welcome in the chapel. My son will stay within the bosom of the church, nurtured and taught scripture, and in time he will lead the Child until the Child will lead us all.”Avert looks confused but smiles shyly, embracing you before he is taken away by the congregation.

That evening, you are taking a simple meal in the refectory when you hear the unmistakable sound of Tibor's hooves outside.

The Lords of Farkash III

Evening of the 2nd Riverday of Sprouts

Perilake, in the evening clouds are moving in and hiding the stars behind them. Avert stares into the fire with heavy lids over his strange slanted eyes and he promises to take the second watch and falls asleep almost immediately. It is cold in the mountains and you tuck him in and he almost looks like your lost son again. Then you see torchlight and someone calling out: “Peace be with you, strangers. The Order protects the weak and punishes the wicked. Which one are you?” Two Knights appear out of the dark, the crest of the cradle on their shields and torches raised. You can't see their faces, but they sound giddy—almost drunk.

Anastaz, in your arms the child falls asleep and you feel its warmth and trust and the fire from the hearth throws shadows over the walls in which you and the child are one. Then you hear riders approaching and a commotion outside of the hut. Two groups it seems, threatening each other with violence. “Open up!” a voice shouts. “We know the Child is in there. Let us in and we will save it from the Rogue Seekers!”

The burning Hut

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake swiftly stands as the torchlight grows nearer, picking up both his sword and the shield of the mad Seeker knight who nearly killed him. "Peace be with you, warriors. We travel for an audience with The Mother." Perilake words are as cool as his gaze upon the shadow-clad figures. "I am Perilake, and this is my son."

Referee

The younger of the two looks staggered by your words but is quickly pulled down by the older Knight who is already kneeling: “Praise be the Mother, Her Child and the lost Son.” he exclaims ” This is a wondrous night!” and now in the torchlight you see his eyes filled with tears of joy. Avert looks drowsily out of his bed roll. “You must have seen the second sign, my lord: It is true, after all these years … the Child is born! We have been sent to look for it but now that we found you … and the son … we will guard you with our lives.” The younger Knight makes the sign of the cradle and starts praying while the older looks at you expectantly. “I am Sir Gorny, your servant. What are my lord's orders?”

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake beckons them to rise. "We have taken a... long and strange... journey. If you can guide us the last few steps to Lady Inga, it would be welcome." He frowns slightly at the excited ecstasy on Sir Gorny's face, before adding "In the morning, of course."

Referee

“Of course, my lord. Rest now while we watch over your sleep.” And they sit down some steps away from you and start their own fire and whisper with each other, throwing shy glances over to Avert who has been fallen asleep again.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight glares at the door. He covers the Child's head and ears and yells, "The Child is under the protection of the Salt Knight. Enter and your lives are forfeit." He begins to rifle through the bedding in the cradle and the shelves of the cottage.

Referee

You grab the blanket from the cradle and try to tie it with one and a half hand while holding the baby and you hear heavy thumps against the door until it finally is kicked in. You spin around to face the white haired Knight who wields a mace and half-shield and barely get your own mace out to meet her blow. She hasn't noticed the Child who is seemingly unfazed by the noise and resting its head against your shoulder.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz's mace crashes into the other knight's inches away from his skull. He knocks it away and forces the other knight back. "Are you trying to kill the Child, you fool?" He brings down his mace but the other knight dodges out of the way and readies for another blow.

Referee

She involuntarily takes a step back and angrily points with her mace at the cradle. “No harm will come to it if you put the Child down and leave. We will take care of it.” You hear the sound of metal against metal outside the hut. A fight has broken out on

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz looks between the other knight blocking the entrance and the indistinct commotion happening outside. He lowers his mace and whispers, "Forgive me," to the Child as he hugs the babe to his breast and throws his other shoulder through the window of the hut. He runs to Tibor, blood dripping from around his scalp and pieces of stained glass forming some perverse crown. He puts the Child in the saddle first and in a low voice, "We must protect him" as he pulls himself up onto his steed. As he goads Tibor into galloping west, he looks back at the din.

Referee

You see light pouring through the open door and something is aflame, maybe a torch being thrown inside and the cradle burning and the white haired Knight rushing out. Outside two Knights pressing on a third who has lost his helm and he tries to keep them from following you. Then Tibor carries you away and the burning hut is just a bright light in the darkness. Your steed hisses and breaks through shrubs and branches and it is a wild ride through the starless night, blood running into your eyes. After some time you manage to catch your breath and dab your wound and light a torch and you try to hold a south-western course. The child is sleeping and its sweet warmth melts your heart. Later you find yourself between forested hills and you can see a fire far below you, the hut ablaze. It is the hour of the wolf and you are dead tired and shivering in the cold mountain air.

You take a swig from the everflask, cold, pure water and press on, following the only path away from your pursuers and higher into the mountains. A cold light rain starts to fall and you cover the child's head with the blanket. When a grey morning dawns you find an overgrown trail leading South towards the Cured Seer's cave.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight yawns and rubs his eyes. He peeks under the blanket and sees the babe gumming the compass, somehow extracted from his pack. Anastaz sighs and whispers, "Ready to meet a Seer, little one?"  

Mountain path to the Monastery

The Lords of Farkash II

Morning of the 2nd Riverday of Sprouts

Perilake, the first light of the morning falls through the window where Avert is standing already dressed, tense and full of anticipation. After breakfast you take him to the stable and Blacwyn greets you with a loud snort and rubs his head against yours. He has white hair around his muzzle but there still is fire burning in his now sunken eyes. Avert takes the reins of the horned stallion.

Anastaz and Heldris, when you enter the Great Hall after dawn for breakfast the Gilded Knight is gone and Jitka waits at the door for your orders. She avoids Heldris' gaze.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

As Avert leads the horned stallion out of the gates, followed by his father, the pair are stopped briefly by the tall, lean figure of Zoltan. His men stand guard on the walls, and the Pigeon Knight feels their eyes upon him - and hears their whispers of the returned scion from every corner. He bows before father and son, and his voice is low; not the mumble of his youth, but the guarded, cautious tones of care. "Please pay my respects to Lady Inga, my lord." His eyes play over Avert, and back to his mentor. "She was always kind to me. Tell her I wish that I... that the myths were kinder to her." Perilake clasps the younger man in a hug, and they depart. Zoltans eyes follow them along the road, a wistful expression across his face as the riders break the horizon.

Referee

Your shadows ride before you as the sun rises and you pass through green hills covered in ferns and spring flowers. Blacwyn proudly takes the lead, the foreign steed following, or father and son are riding side by side if the terrain allows it. At noon you rest and Avert watches in astonishment bees tirelessly flying from crocus to daffodil. “I remember them” he says chewing, “they all serve their queen. There were bee hives in Bohat when we visited Aunt Wendela ... We don't have them in the Kingdom,” he adds thoughtfully.

Later you reach the treacherous ravines that criss-cross the western hills between Farkash and Bohat.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz sits down to eat, exactly as he normally would. Between measured bites, he says to Heldris, "The Queen demands the Needle Relic. The Cured Seer may give us a better notion where it is."

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris nods, dark thoughts brooding in his head. "I remember Lady Hedwig mentioned the relic once," the sudden thought of his late wife's seems to drive the storm away from his head. "There may be some map that shows a more precise location in Karpat's library. I shall go and research their scrolls."

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight nods solemnly. "I shall wait for you at the Chapel of the Child. Perhaps we can confer with Perilake there."

Later that morning, Anastaz goes to the stables, where it seems a stone statue of a horse, cracked and chipped, is taking up one of the stalls. With a pitcher of brine from the kitchens, the Salt Knight douses the creature, and it starts to snort as he rubs the fluid into its skin, hardened scales flaking off. Fifteen minutes later, Anastaz leads the beast outside, and tells a horrified stableboy, "You may need help cleaning up the mess. It's been a while since Tibor last molted."

The Southern Woods

Referee

The other horses eye the ancient steed with some relieve when you leave. There is a deep depression in the scales between Tibor's eyes and a drooping of the lower lip which gives him a morose expression. The sun breaks through a thin layer of cirrus clouds as you ride South through a valley overgrown by thorny shrubs and brambles. At noon you reach a forest of oak and beech and rest at a pond covered in water lilies. Rays of sunlight filter through the canopy as a choir of frogs chirp and croak. Across the pond stands a half-derelict hut, the door hanging from its hinges. Inside, you think you catch a glimpse of a cradle.

Heldris, you sit alone in the Great Hall for a while after the Salt Knight has left. Eventually Jitka approaches you with some trepidation. She still avoids your gaze. “Is it true what they say?”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris watches the Steward with a tired look: “To which of the many rumours and truths that people spread are you referring to?”

Referee

“Sir Svatoslav is family and … he is missing and the guards stationed at his door informed Lady Landrada you sent them away and that you escorted him out of the castle. As the Sheriff of course she pursued the matter and the townsfolk told her they heard him screaming and … “ she hesitates “ … they said they heard your voice and … they heard you howling like ... - well we would like to bury his body but the rumours are … that … that the body cannot be found because ...”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz gently calls out, "I mean you no harm. I am a knight of the realm seeking food and shelter in these woods," as he goes to the door.

Referee

Tibor snorts a short warning as you enter. It smells of moss and mould inside but the furniture is intact: a vase on the table has fresh flowers, the cupboard a few pots and pans but no food. The cradle is empty except for a rattle made from animal teeth. In the distance you hear a strange hissing cry, neither human nor animal - more like fire doused with water.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

“Lady Ladrada is not the Sheriff anymore, Vojtech is. Who appointed her doesn't rule this castle anymore, and she has no right to pursue anything.” Heldris falls silent for a moment. He breaths slowly, letting the steam dissipate. He resumes in a calmer tone: “I'm sorry for Sir Svatoslav, I truly am. But he has been claimed by the River. Twenty years we've been away, it's true, although against our will. Some of us have lost family and friends in this time, and we've come back to a world at war. You claim to have done what you could for Farkash in the absence of its rulers, and I believe you. Sir Svatoslav did not, he ruled becase he wished for power and he choosed blood when he could have stepped back. You have heard his harsh words yesterday, his treath of treason towards those who would stay.” The Dove Knight looks at Jitka almost tenderly, “I understand family bonds, and nor I nor my brothers will be resentful if you'd decide to leave.” He extends his hand to her. “Think about what you want your role in this realm to be, and give us an honest answer before noon.”

Referee

“The River claimed his body ...” she says and nods slowly as if accepting the explanation. “And Lady Landrada? My aunt … “ Jitka hesitates again. “ … is she in any danger by you - or the river? I must know before I can tell you my decision.” She raises her hand to indicate that she is not finished. “Before you answer I need to set aside my personal circumstances and act as the Steward of Farkash.” She straightens herself. “What do we do with the Crownland mercenaries? We can't feed them forever but if we release them they might see an opportunity: The castle is poorly protected, some of the bowmen were killed or injured, many fled. Sir Zoltan will return to Kranach. Captain Hiroshka told me the Hussars will ride back tomorrow. We can starve the mercenaries to death … or we can release them and risk retaliation.”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz squints at the source of the noise, and draws his goldfalx tentatively. He leaves the cottage, and puts a hand up to his ear as he slowly follows the sound.

Referee

Between the trees and among the rays of light you see a fire burning and as you get closer it is a woman, her body aflame, her eyes glowing coal and she screams in anger. She hasn't seen you yet.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

He enters the clearing and shouts over the noise. "Do you need help, my lady?" He keeps his hand on his sword.

Referee

You see her through a haze of heat, flames dancing on her white tunic embroidered with golden threads that form arcane sigils. The fabric stretches over her swollen belly as if she were heavy with child. Her burning eyes fall on you, her scream the incomprehensible fury of wild fire. She moves towards you, swift like flames burning through a field of dried grass. Her fingers are curled into claws.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight's hand goes from his sword to the everflask, and he quickly uncaps it, attempting to douse the approaching woman.

Referee

She is upon you and about to engulf you in a deadly embrace. You feel the heat of her body as she grabs you but the water from the flask gushes over her head and then there is a cloud of steam and the fire sputters and her body goes limp and slides to the ground. She seems to be unconscious and unharmed but when you feel for a heartbeat her skin is hot as if burning with a fever. 

The burning Mother

 Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz lifts her up gingerly and seats her on the back of Tibor. "Gentle," he says, and Tibor huffs. He mounts the steed and continues toward the sanctum.

Referee

She groans when you place her in the saddle. After a while Tibor suddenly halts and prances nervously and the white tunic darkens and wet stains spread rapidly from her waist down. Tiny flames start licking on her arms.   

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz sighs, looks west, looks northeast, and goads Tibor back to the hut, putting the smoldering arms around his neck. As they arrive at the pond, he lifts the woman off the horse and places her down at the edge of the pond, her hips above the water but the bottom of her legs inside. He stamps any flames out of his tunic and lays it beside her. "My lady, I know little of these things, but I believe you must push now."

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Sir Heldris muses for a long minute, then lifts his eyes to meet Jitka’s. ”We will release the Crownland sellswords, and they will march back to whence they came... call their leader so that I may speak to them.” He then adds, in a less commanding tone: “Lady Landrada has been removed from her posting as to not put her in a difficult position, but she is in no danger by me or the River. The River has been appeased through the soul of a sinful man, and we may hope we won’t hear of it again soon.”

Referee

“I hope we won't regret the decision. I will summon their leader at once.” She bows and turns to leave but hesitates and adds. “Svatoslav was an opportunist. When the King gave him the chance to rule he grabbed it with both hands, for his own glory and that of house Urban … but he was not a bad man. I will inform Lady Landrada and Sir Vojtech and I will personally give you my decision by noon.” She leaves. The Grand Hall is silent again and you sit alone on the throne. After a while Captain Hiroshka arrives with the mercenary, a squat woman in the elegant uniform of a Barowian officer. She salutes sloppily and waits for you to address her. Her eyes wonder around the hall as if looking for an escape route.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight sits in his chair, holding on his lap a leather gauntlet, adorned with arcane symbols and old hawks feathers. “Captain Gergana,” he says, “I have nothing against you and your men. I’m going to release you all, on the condition that you won’t pillage our fields and harass our people.” He looks at her for a moment, as if struggling to make a difficult decision. “But I don’t presume to give you any orders. I will offer you the gift of flight, the swiftness of the hawk, and eyes over every move of your enemies, that’ll set your company above any other in this Realm and beyond… if you accept and respect my terms…” He hands her the falconer’s glove “I know your men must be fed and paid, but that is on your employer, you’re free to go ask Andrasz what you’re owed. If you accept my gift, consider ourselves bound to friendship, and hopefully a productive one, when our coffers will be full again." He smiles

Referee

She takes the glove and turns it in her hands. “They say you killed Prince Grigori … and Sandor the Hawk - the greatest mercenary of his age - and took the ring he used to turn into a bird of prey and spy on his enemies … So it wasn't a ring.” she says thoughtfully and then she shakes her head. “This is a powerful artifact … it would give me a great advantage on the battlefield … and yet, I wonder ...” She caresses the old leather. “My men are tired of war and they have seen the fertile lands of your domain, and its peasants … they are weak. Give me their lands and you have an army of experienced soldiers… and in time of war they would protect what they own.” “Or refuse and I'll take the glove and I will command them to leave … but I can't guarantee they all will. Some might be tempted ...”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight nods, thoughtfully: “After all these years of war, it is your right to wish for a more stable life. We’ll be happy to give you land to work on and to call your home. But I have to warn you,” he sighs, “you risk going from the frying pan into the fire.” His face darkens, “It has come to our attention that some of our subjects have joined the militia of the Axe, and they may cause you some problems.” He seems to reflect about something, then he finally adds. “Well, Vojtech, our Sheriff, will start an investigation immediately. Help him uproot at least some of these rebellious farmers, and I'm sure that in half a fortnight you'll have a quiet farm and good land secure from any harm."

Referee

She flashes a dangerous grin. “My men fear no peasants, rebellious or obedient… and we can wait. We have waited long enough.” She hands you the glove back with a wistful smile. “Hopefully, my years of fighting are over… but if you need a Retainer for your Marshal or a Courtier… I'd rather use my knowledge than work in the fields.” She shakes your hand and returns to her men.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris breathes a sigh of relief and smiles back to Captain Gergana. “I’m sure our Marshall Zofia of Barow could use a skillful hand such as yours... and also someone to keep an eye on her...” he adds with a smile.

Referee

At noon, Jitka returns. The small woman walks slowly over to the throne and bows deeply. “My lord, I have decided to resign and take my aunt to Castle Barow. I thank you for your trust in me, but loyalty to my family has to take precedence. If you have any last orders for me...” She looks down, and if she feels any regret, she doesn't show it.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris takes a minute to think about Jitka’s decision. “Thank you for your honesty, Jitka. I don’t have any last order, and I wish you the best. I have only one question: all these years, who amongst our courtiers would you have trusted with your duties, in case of sickness or indisposition?”

Referee

She scoffs. “I wouldn't have trusted anyone to replace me… but I if I had to hand over my duties for a time … either Lady Ileana of Karpat or Sir Dumitry of Barow. Both know when to spend and when to save. The Lady of Karpat might be rash in her decisions but her instinct is mostly right. Dumitry can be callous but he has good contacts to the merchants guild back from his time in the Crownlands” and Heldris decides to appoint Ileana the new Sheriff.

Jitka attends the Council meeting in the afternoon and hands over her duties to Ileana. Voijtech looks nervous around her and only shows his charming smile after she has left ... which disappears when a servant brings him a list of all peasants, their contributions and whatever else is known about them. Landrada has made no effort to sort them and the Waldochian looks lost between all the scrolls. The tall Ileana of Karpat has a sour smile and harrumphs repeatedly while studying the documents Jitka has left her and you recognize with sadness a striking esemblance with a younger Hedwig. Zofia leans over and whispers something in her ear but the new Steward only shakes her head. “Not enough funds unless we increase taxes or withhold our contribution to the Queen.” And so the Courtiers start arguing for and against this or that proposal and the meeting goes on and on while Heldris watches them with tired eyes.  

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

After working with the council on these urgent matters, Heldris walks to the dovecot up on the great tower. A young boy is feeding the birds and murmuring comforting words to them as the shadows of dusk approach. "Good evening Remus,” says the Dove Knight, “who is your swiftest bird? I have an urgent message for Karpat.” He hands him a small rolled up paper with the sigil of Farkash; inside, a request for information about the Relic of the Needle Seer, that may be hiding in Karpat’s extensive library. 

Night falls in the Mountains

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake and Avert lead their mounts through the twisting ravines of the lands west of Farkash. Many would find these routes near impassable, but in the Stolen Age, when one was a boy and the other merely a few seasons younger than now, they rode these paths. And despite living every one of those years, old Blacwyn remains surefooted, remembering the steep trails and winding scree he trod as a young stallion. Perilake is pleased to see Avert guide the horned stag with skill. The beast is strange, and its temperament fierce, but they are both touched by the thrice-ninth kingdom. For once, this brings more wonder than woe to Perilake's heart. All is quiet on these lonely paths through the hills. The chattering joy of the boy he was is gone, but Avert's curiosity remains. He listens intently as Perilake talks of the realm; the inscrutable insights of the seers, the myths that shape the land and the people; the politics and intrigue of the houses; the old king and the new, and the seemingly inevitable gravity of a conflict that can no longer be deterred or avoided. With each insight offered by his father, Avert has a question or two or three or five, each carefully considered. And for each of those questions, his eyes reveal yet more insights unspoken. For Perilake, it is a welcome thing. A return of sorts, and a long awaited reprieve. As he did in the thrice-ninth kingdom, he feels hope in his heart that the impossible may be achieved once more.

Referee

In the afternoon you reach the foothills of the mountains, the sun blocked out by majestic rocks and in their shadow you lead your horses up a winding path. After some time mist begins to rise all around you and your body grows heavy and your legs weaken and when you feel Blacwyn's wet muzzle in your face you lie on the ground and look up at a starry sky. Over the rush of a nearby waterfall you hear joyful cheering and later the continuous tolling of a bell from the mountain top.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake strokes Blacwyn's muzzle. When Avert asks about the tolling bell, Perilake gestures around to the darkening skies. "It is too late, Avert. It sounds peaceful enough; no one in need of our aid, and nothing of import to our affairs." He smiles as he helps his son set up camp. "And I know you do not wish to keep her waiting any longer.  

Referee

Anastaz, the woman moans in response and you see beads of sweat on her forehead. The sun moves slowly west sending rays onto the hut and the pond and the rock from which a strange silvery waterfall flows. Now and then the mother is shaken by contractions and flames dance on her upper body and burn you and she cries in pain. Then the last ray of sun touches her face and a thick mist rises around her as if a red-hot iron is quenched and her body feels heavy in your embrace and then you feel someone being much too close and Adler smiles at you and when you wake up, you hear distant cheering and shouts echoing from the mountains in the West. A light shines in the dark and when you enter the hut a child lies in the cradle. There is a candle on the table but no sign of the mother.  

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz grips the edge of the cradle, his brow furrowed and his face pale and clammy as he peers in.

Referee

The Child is wrapped in torn white cloth and it looks at you silently with bright blue eyes. It shows a sweet toothless smile and it is as pure and innocent as the first day.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight's breath catches. He puts a finger in the crib, and the babe tugs on it. "There are many who have anticipated your arrival, little one," he says, as he turns away toward the hearth. "But they will have to wait." And he begins to make a fire. 

The Lords of Farkash I

Noon of the 2^nd Armsday of Sprouts

You hear the anxious whinnying of horses and a moaning from the tower where injured defenders have been abandoned by their comrades. The Kranach spearmen have surrounded their Urban and Barowian counterparts and Sir Vladislav stands them, head bowed and mumbling to himself: an old man, frail and lost. The Crownland mercenaries regard him with pity and some eye their guards with probing eyes. Zoltan commands his troops to bind them and lead them to the dungeon, while Captain Hiroshka orders her soldiers to man the towers and treat the wounded.

Later, you meet in the Great Hall. The reliquaries lie in the shadows of their alcoves, the candles unlit, and the grey light of a foggy spring day shines through the stained-glass windows. Lady Alina has personally served bread and wine. She stands at the entrance to the hall awaiting your orders, her wrinkled face devoid of expression.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake looks at his brothers, and at Avert sitting in an alcove, fidgeting with his cloak. "My brothers, I have a duty whose call grows only ever louder. Come the morrow, I I will make my family whole again." He smiles with profound sadness. "Painful as they were, it is still mere months for me. For Avert... and for dear Inga... I must tarry no longer. At first light, I must ride."

His limbs heavy with the fatigue of battle, he sits heavily back in his seat. "But for now, we must pick up the thrice-broken pieces of Barowia, and do what we can. Much has changed in Farkash in our absence." Perilake beckons Alina forwards. "What has become of the people of Oakfell, who we invited into these halls? To the merchants who once made this place thrive? And what of you, Alina?"

Referee

Alina comes forward. The sharp strike of her simple wooden cane echoes through the hall. She stands tall and proud, unbothered by the awkward circumstances and despite her advanced age. “Sir Svatoslav decided that the Citadel couldn't afford to support them any more. Eliska agreed. They left for the woods to the east to work as woodsmen. Some of them ...” she bites her lips but then adds. “Some of them, might have joined the Militia of the Axe … mylord.”

“The merchant guild still trades their wares on the market. You might want to ask Lady Jitka for the state of our coffers.”

Courtiers rallying behind their former ruler

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Sunk into a chair, feeling exhausted by the metamorphosis and the fight, the Dove Knight stares coldly at the old courtiers of Farkash. His eyes black and motionless, like those of a bird that waits for its prey. At Perilake’s words of a family whole again, he comes back to himself and nods, speaking softly: “Lady Inga awaits you both, we won’t keep you away any longer my dear brother.” He then turns to Alina, Jitka, and Vojtech. “Twenty years have passed, and things larger than yours have been in motion against the good of the realm, so perhaps we shouldn’t hold it against you… But what have you done in our absence, to let the market rot and Oakfell fall? You that had kin here ruling our castle, or that have seen your castle usurped, or your lands pillaged?”

Referee

Voijtech smiles and clears his throat to speak but Jitka cuts him off. “My family's crest is the lock and the quill for we have long been in service of the Realm, as Stewards and Sheriffs, as Retainers and Courtiers. But we never ruled our own domain. When the King saw Farkash without rulers he finally granted us the holding we deserve.” Next to the imposing figure of Lady Alina, she looks even smaller - but no less proud. “It is true that the Citadel hasn't prospered in your absence. But other holdings faired worse than ours. Trade can't flourish in times of war as history has proven time and time again and at least our people don't have to starve.”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz leans tall and strong against a wall. If the battle has taxed him, he makes no indication of it. "We must thank Urban the vassals did not have to sacrifice the way Karpat's have done. But a swift end to this war will be a boon to all."  

Referee

Jitka nods, relieved that the Salt Knight confirmed her words, and turns to Sir Heldris again. Vojtech uses his opportunity to step forward. “Mylord, we have done everything we could to keep the spirit of Farkash alive. We even had a small farewell feast when Elisa and the woodsmen left.” Although a mature man now, his face is still open and youthful. Avert, who is standing behind the throne, looks at the Waldochian curiously. While he seemed uninterested in the fighting, he has come alive in the more familiar circumstances of the Court and pays close attention. Captain Hiroshka has entered the hall and approaches the Salt Knight. She leans in and whispers, “Sir, when we rounded up the mercenaries and brought them to their cells... the King's brother was taken with them.” She weighs her words carefully. “It seems… inappropriate to treat him like a simple soldier.”  

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris listens attentively to his old courtiers. The rage of the river flows threateningly before his eyes, but he cannot bring himself to punish these people, who seem to have done what they could to survive in times of war. “Thank you, my old friends, for your honest answers. No one holds you accountable for the misfortune that has befallen this castle, as well as Urban or any other family who did what they could to protect their own.” He watches them intently, as he fights the pain in his tired body and the storm in his cursed mind. “If you still welcome the rightful rulers of Farkash, it'll bring me joy to have you again at our side, and we’ll reconvene later about the state of the holding, and what we can do to set things right. If you don’t, consider yourselves free, and have my blessing and wishes of good fortune, elsewhere.” 

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight turns to Hiroshka and gently says, "The finest empty room is his. Make it up for him, and tell him to send for me once he is comfortable."

Referee

Hiroshka salutes and leaves at once. Sir Svatoslav, who has been hiding among the courtiers, steps forward and bows. His face is pale, and he wears the traditional white blouse and black waistcoat of the south. "I thank the Dove Knight for his mercy," he says. With a warm timbre and without raising his voice, his words carry to the farthest corner of the Grand Hall. "It pains me to leave the holding I served for a decade, but my loyalty to the King demands it." He then turns to the other Courtiers. "You need to decide for yourselves whether to leave with me or to stay." His face is flushed now, and you can feel the suppressed anger in his melodic voice. "But unless the Citadel pledges loyalty to the rightful ruler of Barowia, I must consider you - traitors!" 

Hushed murmurings can be heard and the Courtiers exchange anxious glances. The ancient Lady Landrada whispers something in Jitka's ear. Half a dozen minor nobles rally behind their former ruler.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris listens quietly to Sir Svatoslav’s speech. When the nobleman falls silent, the Dove Knight stares at him coldly, his eyes still, like those of a hawk. “I wasn’t talking to you, Sir Svatoslav of Urban!” he says, raising his voice at every syllable, until the man’s name echoes throughout the hall. He stands up, wearily, and walks to him. “If you think you can run to your belligerent king and call us traitors, you are very much mistaken!” He gestures to Farkash soldiers to take hold of him. “Lock him in his chamber, we’ll soon judge if he deserves the same mercy he so quickly refuses his former courtiers.”

Referee

Sir Svatoslav is dragged away by the guards struggling in their grip and shouting to be released. The Courtiers who have come forward to support him scurry back to their peers who murmur excitingly about the former ruler's downfall when Zofia raises her voice: “All hail the Company of the Black Fleece, all hail the rulers of Farkash” and the noble men and women kneel. Even Lady Landrada the Envoy under Urban's rule is helped by Jitka to bend her creaking knees but she shrugs her off and hides her face under a black veil.

When finally the Court is dismissed and only Jitka stays behind to await your orders, Hiroshka returns. As the grey spring day turns dark, servants start to light the candles in the alcoves “Milords” the captain announces, “Sir Vladislav has been relocated to his chambers.” “I have made sure that he is treated respectfully.” she adds turning to the Salt Knight. “The Banner Knight would like to have a word with you … for old friendship's sake, he said.”  

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake spends an evening looking out from the balcony of his old room, where once he and Inga shared laughter and hope. Their belongings have long been removed, replaced by those of a stranger. And stranger still looks the place he called home. No longer does it ring with the busy merriment he remembers; a memory that is for the Black Fleece, mere months past. Yet so long for those who reside here. Once more he feels the world shift uneasily beneath him at how the river of time has been so thoroughly broken. That young Vojtech, once a callow youth among the Fox Knight's fancies, is of an age with the Gilded Knight. And that those who were once his peers now stand old... as must surely his wife. He thinks not of her beauty or her grace, but of the years of loneliness she must have faced without him. The only solace he has is that his son shares the room with him once more. That his family will be reunited. Such a thought is enough, even as the challenge of reuniting the realm itself hangs heavy upon him. "In the morning, yes Father? We will see mother, and we will bring her back to the court." Avert says from the room, his eyes glittering in the candlelight over his gathered scrolls and books. Perilake smiles sadly, and nods. "In the morning, my son. We will see Inga. And then..." He trails off, his heart heavy. "And then we will be a family once more, and we will decide." Avert eyes narrow, and Perilake nods. "Your mother and I, and you. Together, we will decide."  

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

As the last trickles of the sun's blood vanish from the horizon, the Salt Knight carries a pitcher of wine to Sir Vladislav's quarters. He wears no arms or armor. He enters the Banner Knight's chambers and pours two goblets full, offering one to Vladislav. "This batch of grapes was harvested the year we left Farkash, and now it is a rare vintage. Have you, too, sweetened with age, or become more sour?"

Sir Vladislav questioning his life choices

Referee

Sir Vlad raises his cup with a shaky hand, spilling wine onto the rug in front of the hearth. “I have turned to vinegar,” he snarls. Lingering pain has carved deep lines around his eyes. He stares vacantly at the stains on the rug before leaning back heavily in his chair and downing the rest of his drink. He looks down at his trembling, liver-spotted hands. “When I was young, I wrestled bears. Now, I can’t even hold a cup.” He looks up, his watery eyes meeting yours. “What will they say about Barow’s rule over the Realm? Was it just? Did we bring peace?”   

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

"For a time. Had we remained here all those years, we might have helped you. But the needs of a father are sometimes more important than needs of a king. In the blink of an eye, all that was once strong became feeble, including your brother's rule. Perhaps it is time for a change."

Referee

“Perhaps – but Andrasz won't go down without a fight … and he has support from the North: Two warbands of veterans who have been fighting all their lives - not to mention the army he can muster anyway. Even the combined forces of Masur and Kranach won't beat them easily … if at all!” Vladislav stares at the red stain on the rug again. “More violence, more blood. Is that what you want?”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz sighs. "Masur and Kranach were defeated once before, and look at them now. Andrasz chained the wolf, but could not tame it. To win the war, he must make this realm a ruin. Only then will you have your peace."

Referee

Vladislav rubs his temples with trembling hands, eyes closed and he is silent for a while. “It was a mistake to come to this Realm.” he finally says. “It was a mistake to leave our home. All I wanted is to hunt and to enjoy life and now … now I am an old man and I will be buried on foreign soil … “ He shakes his head. “All you can wish for in life is to keep peace for a while until the cycle of violence begins anew.” He opens his eyes again. “March on Castle Barow and you will be responsible for the death of hundreds of men and women - and for what? A dream! There will never be a lasting peace, Anastasz.”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz seems to ponder the knight's words and rises to the room's window. He looks out, hands clasped behind his back, and says, "My brothers seem to think a legend will unite the people. Perhaps they're right; perhaps they're wrong. But Barow's time has passed..." He turns back to Vladislav, smiling sadly. "After all this, I still respect Andrasz. Return to the Crownlands with whatever men you can muster and whatever wealth you can carry, and I will ensure there are no reprisals. Tell your brother we can end this suffering."

Referee

“I still remember the grove on the night after our bout. The stars above us ... I was happy then … happy that I was alive. Happy to have met a worthy opponent.” Vladislav gives you a sad toothless smile. “I will talk to my brother. He will call me a fool and a traitor … but I will try.” “And if he declines ...” His smile broadens “ … I hope the two of us will meet on the battlefield and that I will die in the saddle and not in a bed.” He laboriously gets up and extends his hand.  

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight pulls the old man into a hug. "For my sake, I hope to stay far away from that hammer." 

~*~

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris sits before the fire in Anastaz’s chambers, and tells the Salt Knight of his debt with the River and how it came to be. “I thought it’d be easy to sacrifice an enemy for the good of the Realm,” says the Dove Knight in a whisper, “but even before such a detestable man as Sir Svatoslav, I struggle to bring myself to act.” He pokes the fire slowly, pensively. “I would gladly pay the toll myself, but to think of my daughter losing her father again and, perhaps sinning of arrogance, of me quitting so early this quest to bring the Realm together…” He sighs, "I fear, one way or the other, my spirit is lost."

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz places an arm on Heldris's shoulder. "And if the river chooses to wreak vengeance, how many children will lose their parents? These forces are not to be trifled with. The life of one old man is of little consequence in comparison."

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris nods, looking up from the fire. "You're right, ad always. The River has taken its course and cannot be changed now." He stands up and, without the need of saying more, he makes his way towards Sir Svatoslav chamber.

Referee

When you reach the corridor that leads to Sir Svatoslav chamber you see in the torchlight Lady Landrada and a servant being turned away by the two guards posted in front of his door. Landrada looks furious as she slowly shuffles away. “Ungrateful peasants” she curses. The gurads stand in attention and open the door for you.

Svatoslav is pacing in front of the window and when you enter he turns with a smile that falters as he recognizes you. “I was hoping ...” he forces himself to smile. “... to speak to your Envoy … but I'm honoured that you came to see me.”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight dismisses the guards from their posting, and enters the nobleman’s chamber. “I’m not sure what business you’d have with my envoy, but it is time for you to be judged.” He tells Sir Svatoslav calmly, without anger in his voice. “Will you please follow me? We have a long way to go.” 

Referee

Sir Svatoslav looks surprised. “Now? A long walk?" He puts a coat around his shoulders and follows you.”I am prepared to defend myself and stand trial for whatever crimes I am accused of.” he says with a firm voice but when he sees the Salt Knight waiting at the door, he pales and takes a step back. “What am I accused of?”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

"If you ask me, of the crime that far too many people have committed these last twenty years... acting against peace and the good of the Realm." The Dove Knight's tone is still calm and almost reassuring. "But it will not be on us to find you tarnished or free of sin. The River will be your judge, and its wrath may be appeased" He gestures Sir Svatoslav towards the door.

Referee

He looks scared now and hesitates to cross the threshold but under the Salt Knight's steely gaze he doesn't dare to resist. His shoulders slump and with a sigh he leaves the room. At the gate the guards hand you lanterns. When you reach the deserted market Sir Svatoslav stops at the bas relief of the merchant guild and starts to beg. “Please, Sir Heldris! I have done nothing wrong.” He holds on to the sign with both hands and drops to his knees. “What am I accused of? I followed the King's orders just like you. Please, have mercy!” The families of the small harbour town must have returned after the siege as you hear doors opening and see candles being lit but nobody steps out and Sir Svatoslav's pleas fade away in the thickening mist.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight stands still for a moment, he puts a hand on the nobleman's shoulder. “I'm truly sorry, Sir Svatoslav. But if you think yourself virtuous, you will walk with us to the water and will either be spared by the River, or redeem yourself with a last worthy deed: appeasing its fury." He gestures the nobleman to stand up.

Referee

“I'm not virtuous! I am a coward!” He shakes his head violently and hugs the sign like a toddler hugging the leg of his mother.”Why am I be judged and not you?" he cries. "You abandoned your duty! Somebody has to rule and it was me. Why am I punished for doing my duty?” His eyes are closed and there are tears running down his pale cheeks.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

As he watches the man whining and clinging to the signpost, a wolfish growl rises within the Dove Knight. He grabs the nobleman by the neck and drags him towards the shore, his voice a snarl: “You profited by our misfortune, Sir Svatoslav, now face the consequences, face them as a coward if you so wish.” When they reach the shore he drags him a few paces into the water and stops, he turns the nobleman to face him and all that Sir Svatoslav can see are hound-like eyes shining red in the dark night. “Have it your way,” Heldris pushes the nobleman under the surface and struggles to keep him there. “Wrathful River,” he whispers in a growl, almost inaudible to the Salt Knight on shore, “here I pay my awful debt, and a sinful man I plunge into these waters, wet by your everflowing stream.”

A Sinful Man

Referee

Sir Svatoslav stares at you from under the water with utter terror in his eyes, bubbles streaming from his mouth in unheard screams and only the roaring of the river in your ears – eager to consume and pleased with the sacrifice - and as the drowning man's struggle weakens, you see possible futures for the river in the rising air bubbles, futures from which the Realm is spared: fishers returning with empty nets; a growing lake where the Fortress once stood; and a river, swollen and angry, sweeping away huts and cattle, and the corpses of Kozamost washed ashore in Farkash's harbour. For a moment a dark triumph washes over you. You lift your head and howl, and over the roaring of the river, you hear the beating of the bard's drum—the bard whose life you took in anger.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

A pale lantern glows in the mist as the Salt Knight watches stonily. As Sir Heldris returns to the shore, Anastaz holds out a cloth for the Dove Knight to wipe the water from his hands.  

Session 27

 Afternoon of the 2^nd Woodsday of Sprouts, Karpat Fortress

The company decides to spend the rest of the day in the Fortress. Heldris asks Sir Mateusz for boats to take them down the river and hands him the pendant of the Black Fleece. “Have banners made with our crest to strike fear in the heart of the enemy” and the old ruler accepts. Anastaz finds old maps of the Citadel and the Knights are pouring over them and discuss their battle plan until night falls.

Down the River and to the hills

Morning of the 2^nd Armsday of Sprouts

They leave the castle before dawn and descend to the lake where they are greeted by boatmen who take them and their warband down river. They pass the abandoned canal to Oakhill and reach the hills north of Urban Citadel. Zoltan and the spearmen from Kranach are already waiting for them. Heldris turns into a hawk again and flies South to scout out the defences of the castle. When he returns he picks on the tower of the map once for bowmen and twice on the courtyard for the spearmen stationed there. They approach at noon, under the cover of a light fog. Anastaz is leading the Masurian hussars to the gate, dragging the battle ram between them and they are greeted by a hail of arrows, while Zoltan leads his spearmen to the southern walls and they start climbing the siege ladders. The hussars release their javelins and many defenders are cut down and the rest flee.

Soon the gate is breached and the riders pour into the courtyard but bounce off the spearwall assembled. Heldris lands behind the soldiers and takes the momentum to crush into them. The Kranach warriors rush down the battlements and drive the Urban warriors - who are lead by Marshall Zofia - back. Faced with overwhelming force she orders her soldiers to drop their weapons … when a Barowian horn sounds from outside the walls. Reinforcements!

Anastaz leads the attack and the hussars follow him out into the battlefield, while Zoltan rallies his troops to defend the broken gate.

The Salt Knight meets Sir Vladislav, the Kings brother, and implores him to give up but the Banner Knight, old and frail that he is, still rejects the offer. Only when he arrives at the gate guarded by Kranach troops does he finally yield and is taken prisoner of war.

Sir Vladislav is taken prisoner

Session 26

Morning of the first Stillsday of Sprouts, Kranach Castle

In the courtyard Sir Heldris says farewell to the Pigeon Knight who needed no encouragement to lead his warband into battle. They agree to meet in the hills north of the Citadel to unite the troops from Kranach and Masur. He walks all morning under a grey sky, fatigued and broken, until he reaches the banks of the Ryba, swollen from thaw and rain and he keeps on walking until the river reaches to his thighs and pulls on him. “O river,” he cries in desperation “give your champion the strength to move on!” and the River answers angrily “A sinful person must be brought to me and sacrificed!” and when the Dove Knight agrees, he sees visions of those who wronged him, bloodied and taken by the waves. He comes by in a nest of woven reeds where the River had placed him, he is refreshed and the sun is setting in the west … but something is wrong: He hears the screams of frightened frogs and they flee into the water and hares and foxes follow. The sun turns black, surrounded by a golden corona and the Dove Knight leaves his nest and runs into a night that never comes.

The sun turns black

Afternoon of the first Stillsday of Sprouts, south of Masur Keep

Perilake and Anastaz cross the fort and the lake district beyond until they reach a rocky landscape where steam erupts and geysers shower them with hot water and when they make camp they too see the sun turn black and the soldiers scream and prey to the Seers. When they finally find sleep they dream: Perilake sees the Veiled Seer stumbling from their cave and they only say one word: Blind! And Anastaz dreams of the echoing caves where ancient acolytes flee in terror, their leathery faces distorted. The Cured Seer sits in a pool of brine his eyes white and unseeing.

Morning of the 2^nd Stoneday of Sprouts

They wake up, disturbed by these uneasy dreams and leave the warband behind while a storm is brewing and they gallop under darkening clouds. They follow a forest path and at noon they come upon a monolith covered in spiderwebs and a warm wind brings the smell of spices and an onslaught of dust and they cannot travel further for the rest of the day.

The East

In the hills near Bohat

At dawn the cursed sun is replaced by a new dawn and in the hills The Dove Knight sees a group of nuns removing pins from the clothes line while the fabric billows in the wind. Sir Heldris stumbles between them and falls to his knees: “I have been cursed, sisters, ever since I've been a young Knight” and the sisters help him up and surround him with love and mercy. In the chapel nuns sing hymns to the Child to expel the nightmares of the night before and he is brought before mother Inga who sits in her cell in the twilight of a candle, an old woman with cold compresses around her head that smell of vinegar. When Sir Heldris tells her that her son returned she thanks the Mother on her knees and doesn't listen when he petitions her to send the Seeker Knights to the Company's aid and later he turns into a hawk again and flies north.

Morning of the 2^nd Woodsday of Sprouts, near Karpat Fortress

The two Knights gallop east and cross the ornate bridge over a gorge and arrive at the fortress in the mountains where they are lead to the chambers which seem to remember them and display icons of their Seers on the walls: Cloaked in golden robes the one who knighted Anastaz and a heap of flesh and bone and metal who dubbed the Gilded Knight.

They are summoned to the lord of the fortress, a frail man bowed under an iron crown. They are greeted coolly. Karpat will not send troops to aid them: “We feed our Vassals first and then our soldiers” and they are reminded of the Queen who said the reverse. The Salt Knight makes a plea and is rejected. Only siege ladders can be spared and they take what they can.

Later that day they stand on the balcony of a tower in the shadow of the mountains and a hawk approaches on tired wings and turns into the Dove Knight who leans against the balustrade and tells them of his trials and tribulations. But a warband from Kranach will meet them he adds unable to muster a smile, and we will march together to take back the Citadel!