The Needle Seer's Relic

Morning of the 2^nd Skyday of Sprouts

You all dream of the City, spires of coral and root and white marble, and it is still an hour before dawn when you wake up before the hearth in Marko's hut, the tall shepherd quietly rekindling the fire. With a silent smile on her face Biljana makes breakfast in the twilight of a greying sky, the Child close to her chest. When you sit around the table and drink tea, Marko explains that they will stay for another week to sell his sheep at the market on Silverday. “We will keep the child hidden until then,” he promises, “and once we have settled down in Waldochia we will send a messenger to the citadel.” You saddle your horses and a light breeze plays with the wings of Sir Heldris' armour and the proud new parents stand in the doorway and wave farewell.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight stands besides his friends as the gentle morning breeze ruffles his armour’s feathers. He looks at the Child, the most helpless of creatures shouldering such an important fate. “I’ll make haste to Karpat, although the thought of flying, inebriating once, seems dreadful now.” He smiles wearily at Anastaz and Perilake, “Be safe on the path my friends, I hope I can come back to you with some useful knowledge from the castle’s library.” We see his hands on the verdant background, as one clothes the other with the Falconer’s glove. As the hands retreat from the scene, the tall grass is shaken by a gentle draught and from behind a running cloud the sun shines against our eyes. When we focus again, a solitary hawk is flying in a large circle around the Chapel, before setting off towards the north-east.

Referee

The wind carries you and the clouds embrace you until you are above them and you are warmed by the sun. At noon you see the Karpatian mountains on the horizon and you fly over the northern lake where tiny fisherboats defy the churned waters and soon you are engulfed in the fog that seems to never leave the peaks of Karpat. Below you lies the Fortress and you spot the stained-glass roof lights of the flat scriptorium that balances precariously on a rock between dark towers and from a small window you see puffs of smoke, the ancient chronicler enjoying his pipe.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz steals occasional glances at the babe nestled in Biljana's arms. "I will not ask more of you than we already have," he says to Marko, "but powerful forces seek the Child. Make all possible haste. And if you must stay, let no one see the foundling. I implore you."

Referee

Marko frowns. “Taking the flock with us might slow us down. Better to sell it here and buy animals on the bazaar in the shadow of NëMuzg, the Twillight Mountain." He puts an arm around Bijlana's shoulder, who gently rocks the Child. Both, mother and child, look at you: ”You have saved us from Tizria and now it is our turn to repay you.” She smiles.”Have faith, Salt Knight. The Child will protect us.”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight sighs. "In the end, I suppose faith is all we have." He attempts a smile at the gathered family, and turns to leave the hovel.

Referee

You spur your steeds and gallop west and pass dark tilled fields, crows circling above you. Blacwyn and Tibor compete like wild foals and you cross the Ryba and at noon you see the white towers of Swanstone, bridge drawn and walls manned and the guards hail the Radiant Knights and open the gate. Your steeds are led to the stables by awe struck boys. A dark haired woman in a traditional full plaid introduces herself as Lady Alicja and takes you to your commodious chambers. She is the spitting image of Lady Bianca but with kind soft eyes. “Sir Zoltan informed me to not bother you with formalities but if you need anything please summon me.”

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake takes a private audience with Zoltan, finding some comfort in sharing his reunion with Inga. Once finished, the Gilded Knight seeks out Istvan. Few in the realm are such students of history as the tall southerner, and if there is any insight into the Needle Seer's relic to be found in Kranach, Istvan seems the most likely holder of the knowledge.

The Battlefield

Referee

You find Istvan in his study, reading scrolls that are scattered across his desk. He laboriously gets up to greet you. “My lord, I am pleased to meet you again so soon.” A servant brings tea and you sit by the window. Istvan holds his cup with both hands to warm them, looking out over the lake with a wistful smile. “I am convinced that the Seers will decide the right moment for the relic to be found… or for the right knight to find it," he says. "After the Battle of the Red Reeds, I spoke to a veteran who was blinded and separated from his soldiers, yet survived two weeks in the wilderness. He claimed he found refuge in a cave, and he swore he felt the presence of a Seer. In his state he couldn't have wandered more than two hexleagues from the battlefield.” The white-haired Steward explains that the veteran had been found by hunters in the forest east of Kranach Castle, malnourished and hallucinating. Yet, Istvan is convinced that the soldier had been saved by the relic.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris lands in the rookery and asks to be announced to Sir Mateusz. When he meets the ruler of Karpat, he takes both his arms. “My dear Mateusz, I come from a tiring voyage. The Company of the Black Fleece seeks the relic of the Needle Seer, but without more proper knowledge we might be lost in an endless quest. I come to consult your library in the hope that I shall find some clue.” He says, as his tired eyes get accustomed to the afternoon light of the Hall. ”But that can wait for the morning. I hope I can keep you company this evening and hear how Karpat fare in these turbulent times.”

Referee

Servants bring spiced wine and fresh logs for the fire, but try as they might, the room stays cold and you are alone with the ruler and his Envoy. Adalgunde is silently knitting before the hearth. Mateusz eyes you warily from the throne. “We manage as best as we can, but I fear the worst is yet to come. Spring is the time when vassals die of hunger, and if they cannot cultivate the land, more will die later. If the relic is in Queen Anastasia's hands, the King might be forced to resign … or wage a full-blown war instead.” The iron crown seems too heavy for his frail neck, and he leans back and closes his eyes. “As long as the relic stays hidden, nobody can claim the throne for themselves and we might have another year of peace.” Adalgunde scoffs. “Another year of waiting for the inevitable. I'd rather we bet everything on Her Majesty to bring us lasting peace.” She knits in silence for a while, apparently waiting for Mateusz to challenge her. When he doesn't, she finally adds, “I will send for the chronicler to select all the scrolls and books that may hold the answer to your questions.”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight nods at Adalgunde’s remark. “I hope it won’t come to war, but the Realm needs stability.” When she leaves, he addresses Mateusz again, “Sir Mateusz, I fear the years and the sorrows have claimed our strength more than any battle ever could. I feel my spirit fleeting and I need to hold it back. Tomorrow I’ll consult the scrolls; but before I set off again for my quest, I would like the counsel of a minister or the proper time and place to feel the warm touch of the Sunlit Seer. To whom or where can you direct me?”

Referee

Sir Mateusz nods stiffly. “I too feel exhausted and in need of guidance, for the crown wears heavy on my head. Let us find solace in the study of the Seers' wisdom.” He slowly gets up and takes you by the hand. You walk through the narrow corridors of the Fortress to the Grand Hall, where he calls for his Steward. Mateusz bows before the altar displaying ancient scrolls and waits for Osvald. Servants light candles and brandish censers as Osvald proclaims the wisdom of the Swollen Seer, who wants to bring back huge beasts of primordial times whose cries can be heard at the Feast of the Stars. He then reads from the revelations of the Prey Seer, who foresaw great wars waged for envy and lust. Night comes, and with it a sense of serenity. Osvald reads from the scripture of the Needle Seer, speaking of the lost peace that could have been and the glory of a just war. Then you stand at the top of the obsidian stairs and the shadow of a hound walks beside you. “Before you leave the Realm, promise to come and visit my grave," a voice says. "You will not find the City while carrying your burden.” When you wake up in the cold and dark Hall, Osvald and Mateusz are gone and nothing remains but amber glowing in the hearth. The light of a candle stump guides you back to your room.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake convenes with Anastasz in the small library of Kranach, and the two pore over a map of the region. A student of Barowian military history, Anastasz quickly identifies the site of the Battle of the Red Reeds, north east of Kranach. "If Istvan is correct, this narrows our search down considerably." Perilake muses. "To find a cave in a few leagues is easier than a third of a kingdom." "Perhaps we can narrow it down further still whilst we wait for Heldris. Among the foresters, the trappers and the hunters of Laketown we may find a guide, perhaps? Though they do not know what lies within the cave, they may know the caves themselves." Perilake smiles wanly at Anastasz. "It seems there is hope for your marriage, my King to be." He chuckles softly in astonishment. "When first we heard of this relic, much was different. Would you have believed such things could be possible?"

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz looks up from the map as if he was just a great distance away. "Nothing we resolve to do is impossible, not for very long."

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The words of the hound in shadow echo in Heldris’ mind. The memory of how it all started and of the curse that shaped him conjures up strange feelings, of hope, of fate, of something larger only known in dreams. He snuffs the candle out and the smoke seems to curl up in the shape of a wolf for a brief moment, then pinnacles and smoky spires, under a feeble moonray that peers through the tall and narrow window. With the realisation that Barowia is just a stone on a paved road that seems to step out of time, the Dove Knight falls asleep. In the morning these thoughts linger, but with them the will to leave this stone as stable as possible for the next traveller that’ll set foot over it. After a simple breakfast, he walks down to the library and greets the chronicler, asking for the scrolls and books that were set aside for him

Referee

“Lord Heldris,” the chronicler croaks, guiding you through the labyrinth of shelves to a table under a tall, narrow stained-glass window with carved insects crawling on the wooden frame. On the table lie scrolls of prayers of the Needle Seer that her acolytes had preserved. Among them are Glory to the Just War, from which Osvald has read, a book called On the Tabernacle and Teachings of Various Seers, a copy of the History of Masuria and a collection of scrolls held together by a threadbare ribbon with the inscription Spells from Northern Oudenburgh. You read for a couple of hours. When the chronicler brings a thin soup and bread it is already past noon and outside the window the twisted peaks of Karpat are hidden within clouds. You look down at your notes: Died during the reign of Trpimir I, the first ruler of Masur - Drowned in a lake by Altenburgian heretics. Later you find a comment on an acolyte of the Seer and more hints in the Tabernacle. By nightfall your notes are a tangle of quotes and arrows. You are dead tired but convinced: The tomb of the Needle Seer must be in a hidden ravine in the hills on the eastern shore of Lake Ryba  

Study in the Library of Karpat

Morning of the 2nd Rainsday of Sprouts, Kranach Castle

The sun is hidden behind thick clouds as you leave the castle at dawn to look for a guide at the market. Eventually you find a wiry trapper who has laid out her pelts and hides and is willing to lead you north in exchange for Ser Perilake's mace. She removes the beaver hat from her greying hair and bows. “A cave east of the swamps? I have been hunting in the swamps and forests and hills of the domain all my life and I can show you all the caves!” At the harbour there is a commotion as log drivers arrive with the news that the river has flooded the ruins of Oakfell and the underground fires have been extinguished. They plan to return and rebuild the settlement. “I'm Biserka and for your mace I will lead you until we find what you are looking for… even if it were to take us weeks.”

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Biserka's price is more than agreeable to Perilake, and he tells her they will travel when their companion arrives at Kranach. As the two knights depart, his face is dour. "Oakfell's fires extinguished by the River, at last." He mutters to Anastasz. "The Ages make a mockery of the plans we set in motion, of what we spent in our attempts." He shakes his head, and forces a brittle smile in to place. "Forgive me, my friend. Perhaps at least the village and the industry may be restored now the fire is quenced." He sighs and whispers. "Perhaps in time we will finally be able to mend things."

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz stares out in the distance, off in the direction of the lake. "Perhaps so," he mutters.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake stares too for a long moment, then shakes his head and his smile becomes as warm as it was in ages past. "Much may have changed," he says, "but the good cheer of the salt knight remains the same." He chuckles, and throws an arm around Anastasz's shoulder. "My brothers remain steadfast in all ways." His smile is not mocking, but truly warmed by this comfort. "Perhaps the river quenching the fires of Oakfell is a good omen, for we that seek to finally extinguish the embers of war and strife that have smouldered in this realm since Ulrich fell on that accursed battlefield." "Come, let us return to the castle. As we wait for Heldris, we may advance our cause further with Kranach. And we may advance Zoltan further in the eyes of his people, if such a thing were possible."

Referee

You spend the rest of the day at Court where Zoltan is making decisions for his aunt, who is sleeping on her throne and you speak to Courtiers and Knights about the interims reign of House Farkash and the future King Zoltan. They all seem slightly uncomfortable in your presence, nobles and important vassals alike and yet they are eager to listen to you. Evening comes and you still wait for the Dove Knight.

Morning of the 2nd Stillsday of Sprouts, Karpat Fortress

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

In the morning Heldris finds Mateusz in the courtyard, pacing silently under a large plane tree. Its sturdy branches shoot outward as if reaching for the early sun. “Lord Mateusz, I wished to thank you for your hospitality and for your help. Coming back to Karpat is both painful and merry, with all the memories that this place has.” He touches a hanging leaf and the whole tree seems to stir awake. “I’m happy that Karpat has found a ruler that will contribute more to its peace than to its sorrow, it’s all about the legacy that we leave behind.” He bows slightly, “I have to take my leave now, as my brothers await.” As we see the large plane leaves shaken by the wind, we move back to a hawk perching on a bough. Heldris takes flight to the South West as the morning sun fully shines on his speckled wings.

Referee

At noon you land on a lone tree high on a rock and you preen your feathers and eye a rabbit for lunch as you hear echoes from below, a cave maybe or a tunnel. A large group of people, you reckon, in a heated discussion. “ … if they all die otherwise she will ...” “ … either them or the axe will cut ...” “ … kash is understrength, if we strike now ...” When you glide down from the tree you see a fissure in the rock from which the voices issue.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The hawk glides down quietly from its branch, its wings outspread. On the ground, he makes his way into the cave, silently, to get a better view of these people who whisper in the dark and to hear more of their secret scheming.

Referee

Smoke stings your eyes as you hop into the cavern and through the haze you see a large group of people crouching around a fire. It smells of sweat and burnt meat. You don't recognize them but from their leathery faces and calloused hands they seem to be armed peasants. A broad-shouldered man clad in a tattered gambeson, stiff with old grime, shouts: "If we don't act Witta will punish us all." He turns around to look for dissent but the peasants nod in agreement."So it is decided. We move on Farkash! Death to the Knights!” and his booming voice is answered by two dozen fighters raising their axes.

Referee

Heldris, you sit with Voijtech on the balcony high in the Great Hall and watch from above a group of people from Laketown observing Stillday in the silence. “I will double the guards on the battlements, my lord, although … “ Voijtech sounds troubled, ” … the new gate is only a provisional solution and won't withstand a direct attack for long.“ Voijtech face is illuminated by hundreds of candles from the alcoves. He looks his age now and his charming smile is gone. “We made quite some progress, my lord. Three rebels have been arrested … well, two really as one resisted and was slain … "He clears his throat nervously. "We believe that we can get the prisoners to reveal the name and location of their leader. Gergana suggested that we … uh ... show them the instruments.”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

"The instruments?" The Dove Knight looks at Voijtech with a concerned look, "let's not forget we are talking about common people, whether swayed by some nonsense or by their own will, they deserve our mercy. You're still the Sheriff, Voijtech, not Gergana; I trust you can keep her impulses at bay." He peers down towards the gate, "Gergana's soldiers are professionals. If it is indeed just peasants we're up against, gate or no gate, that won't make a difference. Put the archers on the battlements and tell the captain to ready her soldiers. Have a man on the tower sound the alarm when the militia is spotted."

Referee

Voijtech straightens up. “Yes, my lord, I am the Sheriff,” he says with a brave face but doesn't sound convinced. At night you dream of the City, a tangle of a thousand roots that drink in silence.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Trusting Voijtech to handle the situation, Heldris retires to a night of rest in his chamber. He wakes up just before sunrise, with the thought of another dreadful flight weighing upon his chest. He walks to the rookery, envying the resting doves in their comfortable houses. He sets off towards the West, fleeing the rising sun. As he passes Kranach, he slows his flight and keeps a watchful eye for the knights and their steeds below. 

Referee

Biserka has sold her wares on the market and waits for you at the gate. She looks up at the overcast morning sky. “It should stay dry all day ... if we are lucky.“ Her packpony squeals in terror as Tibor tries to bite it.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Blacwyn jostles forwards, his large and sturdy frame shielding the packpony from Tibor with a snort and ignoring the nip he receives as payment. The old horse has borne worse. "Lead on." Perilake nods. "We'll do our best to keep up."

Referee

You follow the shoreline until noon when you take a short rest in the shadow of a menhir. You can see fading runes between patches of moss. The sun breaks through the clouds and reflects on the waves of the lake and warms your faces. Biserka has shared her rations of dried meat and bread and is sitting some steps away on a rock with her fishing rod.

The Sun breaks through the Clouds

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz absently runs his hands along the menhir, squinting at the stone, as Biserka and the Gilded Knight talk.

Referee

The stone is weathered and smooth and warmed by the sun. You scratch away the moss and reveal more runes from a bygone age and a simple depictions of a winged beast attacking the sun with great claws. Biserka returns from the shore with her catch and kicks dirt over the fire.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake takes a rubbing of the Menhir, for Istvan's interest and for Kranach's archives. "At least it wasn't a spider..." He mutters to himself as he packs it away with a rough sketch of the menhir itself, the weight of Reznik on his belt heavier as he remembers those dark, narrow tunnels and the skittering within. As the group continues, he shares the story and smiles as Biserka relays the version she heard as a girl, in an age past. When she talks of Ulrich's heir rescuing a lost child from a horde of monsters, Perilake shares a second, private smile with Anastasz at the rear of the procession.

Referee

In the afternoon dark clouds gather and strong winds churn the water. Biserka leads you North over forested hills and in the evening you make camp under an old oak tree twisted by the winds. The old hunter turns a big carp over the fire ... when suddenly a dark shadow falls over you and when you look up you see a shrieking white cloud growing overhead.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake acts quickly, and grabs the reins of the steeds, yelling at the others to mount and flee. "Forget about the fish!" He calls to Biserka as she tries to gingerly grab their supper from the fire. Blacwyn snorts as Perilake throws as much of his bundle as he can secure in a single movement in to the saddlebags, and leaps atop his mount. "Into the trees!"

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Tibor utters a metallic shriek and Anastaz leans over the beast, hugging his steed as Biserka mounts and follows Perilake, the Salt Knight taking the rear.

Referee

You feel the impact of something slamming into you, threatening to push you off the horse but you both manage to steady yourself. Blacwyn and Tibor rear up and then gallop towards the tree line. When you are in the relative safety of the forest, you see the cloud whirling and a voice shrieks: “You run like mice, mortals! Beware Nimbrel, the Powerful!” before it rushes South over the trees and disappears.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight glances at Perilake, and cocks his head. "Nimbrel?" He strokes Tibor's scales as the steed chitters.

Referee

Biserka emerges from the tree where she has hid. She scans the sky nervously. “You are not supposed to eat well on Stillsday, maybe the winds reminded us?” She makes another campfire and you sit together and eat dry rations and talk about the cloud and the relic and the wedding.

Morning of the 3rd Stoneday of Sprouts, in the hills east of lake Ryba

You wake up at dawn, the campfire fighting against constant rain. After a frugal breakfast you start a methodical search of the area and soon you are soaking wet. At noon you rest in the shadow of rocks shielding you from the wind and you are looking out over a heath and the first spring flowers. Suddenly Blacwyn snorts a nervous question and Tibor raises his head, tastes the air and hisses in agreement. Biserka gets up to calm her pony. A figure is slowly approaching, a knight on unsure foot, clad in beaten armour with a helmet it seems and one horn broken off.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake calls out to the knight on its slow approach. "Hold there! Who goes, and what are you about?"

"A friend," the figure titters

Referee

You hear a high-pitched laughter that is uncomfortably reminiscent of someone, but you can't recall who. Their face is hidden in shadow, their armour bloody and they unsheathe a longsword. “A friend,” the figure titters. You realize they aren't wearing a horned helmet, and you recognize that it is Sir Ludmer.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The color drains from the Salt Knight's face, and he glances at Perilake. "What need do you have of us, Trail Knight?" he calls out.

Referee

Sir Ludmer gets closer, his head weighed down to the side by a single grotesque horn sprouting from his temple. He looks over to Biserka struggling to control the pony. “He is coming … he might be writhing inside her.” He smiles with wide open eyes. His face is twisted and wet from rain or tears. ”You, serf!" he cries. "Let me cut you open and have a look!”  

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake steps between the visage of Ludmer and the terrified woman. "You are not Ludmer." He says with cold fury. "Of all the oaths, Ludmer was most sworn to protect the realm and above all, its people." He draws Reznik.