Monthly Archives: January 2025

Strange Findings Below: Anti-Hood Graffiti in an Ancient Script

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Honored Undersecretariat, Custodian of Hood’s Wisdom,

While I regret deeply that my companions and I had to leave our fair city in haste, I wanted to send you a message both to let you know of our departure, and also to let you know of some unusual markings in the sewer. The message we found was “Death to the God of Death”, which was perhaps only a little out-of-the-usual, but the fact that it was both in an ancient script and also written relatively recently piqued my interest and thought your interest might be piqued as well. Below I have included the specific script as best as I could transcribe it and also a map to the location in the sewers. Unfortunately, the only path I know of get to that location is through a sewer-cover close to our shared “acquaintance”, The Spider. For this reason I have also included the location in the city of the sewer-cover close to the Spider as well as a map from the sewer entrance to the area in the sewer used by the Spider. You are welcome to visit the Spider, or avoid her, as you see fit, but I wanted to provide as much information as you might find useful.

With the blessings of the gods we shall meet soon, and hopefully in our fine city.

May our shared vigilance hold strong against the shadows cast by the Dark Hand. With the highest respect,
XX

The Reality Under The Copper Hills Fort

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The Crimson Calling is sailing on the Gilded Zephyr, having been smuggled from Sutheron and heading to Llanos port. Alexis kneels down next to Ethelred, who is continually studying the documents from the Collegium, holds the red jasper around his neck, and chants something while his other hand forms precise forms and seems to get a little blue.

For the next many hours Alexis sits next to Ethelred, thinking. Occasionally one of the Calling will ask him for something, or about something, and he will respond and then go back to his focused thoughts. For some portion of his reverie he writes or draws in his book.

The next morning at breakfast clears his throat to get the group’s attention while he idly walks a copper coin across his knuckles. “Yesterday I studied the ritual room with the demon under the Copper Hills Fort. As we had suspected it was human magics calling upon demon magics. Nothing about the magics was anything I’ve ever encountered before. Not the sorcery on the sword, not the summoning. But I could clearly make out two intertwined magics: one demonic, and other was of Avv.”

Perfectly Recalled

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Along the journey to the far west Ethelred has the opportunity to receive perfect recall from Alexis. This aids his daily study of the scrolls, brings forth subtle ideas and connections he had missed.

But as Red gets closer and closer to feeling like he can make a flame spring from a blade, he is nervous he might have missed some details of the instructions.

With perfect recall in place he closes his eyes, focuses on recalling the full interaction of receiving the scrolls, and the instructions on what he is to do.

….

Flames in Swamp part II

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After some light scouting of the swamps the group settle back down for another week.

Ethelred takes up working nights again. The focus is the flame. Picking up the slow work of lighting the candle without out burning the wick, without using the material of the candle itself.

Slowly Ethelred works with different materials, different approaches to bringing the flame forth onto the candle. Each night reveals more of the essence of fire, the possible sources of material. Going over the scrolls again and again he tries to find the ‘ley lines’ that the scroll mention can be a source of power. At first his attempt fails, but after a full night of focusing, eyes closed, he sense the faint lines. Pulling slowly from them he is able to produce a small flame, and hold it as the power flows through him.

The following night he attempts to be the source of the flame, to power to effect on his own. Long hours spent, sweat beading his brow as he tries hard to generate the energy needed. Struggle, toil, but no results. Exhausted he sits back down, returns to the ley lines. What become apparent is much like the ley lines, his own power is there. Gradually he is able to feel the power, channeling until he has a small flame in the palm of his hand. Flickering in the wind, his palm a light, warm but not burning.

For the rest of the week he continues to practice, to improve, to grown this flame power. Until he is able to control, understand and transcribe the process into this book. Producing a flame is now something he can do at will.

Progress.

Marching On

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Rask follows Alexis direction and keeps his distance from Drinos as much as possible throughout the journey. When not marching on the opposite side of the wagon from Drinos, Rask keeps himself busy with camp chores, helping Gus and Ca’armine hunt and gather when needed, and tending to the group’s horses. He prays with Ca’armine to Raiden whenever he can, and listens closely when anyone in the group talks about the gods.

Rask puts very little of his kit on the wagon most days. He typically wears his armor at all times as far as anyone notices. Those close to him can hear him singing Raiden-themed songs, sometimes to a marching cadence.

Rask stays up on watch for much of most nights. Over the first week or so he pushes his sleep schedule to the point of exhaustion and naps a bit in the cart one day before finally sleeping a bit each night.

Rask starts focusing on the last watch, early in the morning. He still sleeps for some portion of most nights, and avoids sleeping in the daytime again. Occasionally he sleeps thought most of the night.

In the wee hours of the morning, always after he is certain Drinos is sleeping, Rask removes and services his armor, and works through his full set of sword forms using the red blade, he does a set and then starts over, this time slightly modifying each strike to turn the blade just so to not do deadly damage. Somewhere near Earamos, he switches to carrying and using his black blade for these exercises, wrapping the red blade.

Rask still manages to make a point to be kind to Sally-Crow and he helps Gus train her as needed. Rask follows Gus’s lead and copies and reinforces and rules for tricks Gus works to train Sally on.

Flame in the Swamp

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As the time of training with the fighters comes to an abrupt end, Red switches focus inward. The task of the flaming dagger become his sole focus. The days become a time to sleep. Nights are spent mostly in the dark, with a single candle he will not light.

He starts with warming his fingers. Feeling how his heat can work to barely soften the wax. Gradually conjuring more heat, but only enough to slightly melt, and never enough to even hint at lighting the candle. Slowly reducing the heat, with the goal of leaving the candle visibly undisturbed.

Night after night he works with the candle, taking it apart more and more. Eventually reducing it into parts: as glob of wax, a bit of wick, some flecks of dirt. Then slowly shaping it back, as if it was never apart.

The material now fully yields to him and reforms. Only then does he begin to bestow light upon the candle. Drawn from, elsewhere than the candle, a few sparks dance around the wick. Without letting them grown to fire or go out, he works them into a dance. One more nights spent with just the sparks.

And then the groups seems restless to do other things with their days the be in camp. Red’s wants no part of exploring, of looking around.

Bandages

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After a particularly active afternoon of training with the fighters Ethelred submits himself to Gustav for some bandaging. While watching the ranger work a phrase from the scrolls pass through Red’s mind.

“Gustav, what do you think about when you are healing people? Does the skill you have flow out of you like water? Are you a river or an ocean of healing?”

Red, for the first time, seems genuinely interested in the healing arts.

Training in the Swamp

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When Red delivered the killing blow to the crocodile something in him stirred. He felt for a moment some kinship with the true fighters of the group. As if a small flame that had been growing within him caught a gust of wind.

Each morning he would rise, eschew his studies and join Rask and Ca’armine for morning training. The work was hard, and Red gained many bruises. Each day seeing small gains in how he held himself, how the weapons felt more like an extension of him.

After the fight training Red would then lead his own lesson in swimming. The cold water felt good, washing away the sweat, calming the wounds. Swimming made Red miss his home and the pools he helped build, and swam in, in Aigier. Aigier seems like such a distant memory now. Home but yet not as familiar as it once was.

As the days wore on Red finally was able to learn some new skills from the fighters. The path of a hero was visible about before him. But that changed…

An off hand comment from Alexis about Ezrin struck Red to the core. The memory of the last time he saw Ezrin laying on the ground, a lump. Could Red have picked up Ezrin and carried him out? Maybe. What would be different now if he had rescued the best magic teacher he has known.

When Red returned to his bed that night he takes up the scrolls, that all seem to echo with Ezrin’s voice in his ears. That night be does not sleep, does not rise to train. He turns his focus from the physical, to the material.

Copromancy and the Raw Power of Aegier

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One more morning, shortly before Gustave rejoins the group, Rask approaches the Aegierian ranger.

“Brother Arrow, if I may, your thing,” Rask grimaces as if bearing down to defecate,

“I’m sorry, I just… there’s something about you and your thing that… feels more like my tattoos than other… things…”

Rask shrugs a little, sheepishly.

“‘The Raw Power of Aegier,’ that’s what Mage Eye and Ursul called it… but it’s Raiden too, right?”

Rask looks at Gustav for a moment,

“So anyway… sorry to bug you…”

Rask pauses for a moment to see if Gus has anything to say, but is clearly growing uncomfortable with the whole conversation, and regrets bringing it up.

A Humble Request

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One evening after dinner, after a full 15 days have passed since the group arrives, Rask looks at Ethelred and inquires:

“He- Mastercraftsman, would it be possible for you to make a me fine wooden sword, like a practice sword, perhaps out of a dense wood like ironwood, that I could wield as it were mine own Blade?

Rask unconsciously nods at the bundle tucked in against his bedroll, where it has lain except when so recently examined by Ca’armine, Blessed Priest of Raiden.

“Should we find the right wood of course, and perhaps wrapped in leather like the cudgels Brother Blade has been using.”