Sharing a Safe Watch with Sally

Deep in the night, in the silver-horned-stag-camp. Everyone is asleep except Alexis, who has the watch. Gustav is rolled in his blanket with Sally perched near his bedroll. Spyglass is tucked against Ethelred, one eye half open toward the fire.

Alexis sits cross-legged on the cold ground with a strip of liver and his knife and cuts it into small pieces, loud enough that Sally can hear it.

“Sally, do you want some meat? Sorry, I don’t have eyeballs.”

Sally lifts her head. After a moment she hops off her perch and crosses the ground to him.

“Eyeballs!” She pecks the dirt twice.

Alexis shrugs. “No eyeballs. Do you want this meat?” He holds out a small piece.

She takes it from his fingers and swallows it. He holds out another, and it goes the same way.

“Try to catch this one.”

He tosses a piece in a low arc. It bounces off her head and lands in the dirt. She eats it off the ground like that was the plan.

“More?”

“More!”

“Catch. I’ll make it go higher so you have more time.”

He lofts the next piece. She snaps it out of the air and gulps it down. Alexis grins.

He sets three flat stones in a row between them and holds up the last piece of liver so she can see it.

He slides the liver under the middle stone and moves the stones around one another, slowly. Alexis narrates in a low voice while he moves the stones. Sally watches with one eye and then the other. When he stops, she hops to the middle stone and flips it with her beak. She takes the liver.

“Fine. Once more.” He cuts another piece, hides it, and shuffles faster this time. She goes straight to the right stone. He does it a third time, as fast as his novice hands can shuffle these rocks. She picks the right stone again and gives him a look, as if the game is beneath her.

“Fair enough. We’ll move onto something else for a little while.”

He leans back against his pack and pulls the silver coin from his pocket. He walks it across his knuckles. Sally hops closer and tilts her head.

“Perhaps some day I can teach you simple coin tricks.”

He walks it across again. When it reaches the edge of his hand, she darts in, snatches it, and hops out of reach with the coin in her beak.

“Mine,” she says around it.

Alexis laughs quietly. “That was mine. Make a deal?”

She holds it up and looks at him.

He holds out another small piece of liver in one hand and his other hand is is palm up empty. “Trade?”

She considers it for a long moment. Then she drops the coin into his palm and takes the liver.

“Good bargain.” He rolls the coin over his knuckles once and puts it away.

Sally hops onto the nearest stone and fluffs her feathers. Her next sound is only a croak, and the one after that is another. Alexis looks at her for a moment.

“Perhaps we’ll get more time to talk some other night.” Alexis shrugs.

He picks up the stones. A piece of liver goes under the left one, and he shuffles. Sally goes to it without hesitating.

For the rest of his watch the two of them sit in the firelight, the stones sliding across the dirt and the crow flipping them over.

I May Have Erred

Thing happen fast, sometimes. Even when one can stop time! Battling Ezrin– a foe my companions used to trust– I used the time amulet received when we entered this new world, to pause the flow of time, heal my grievous wounds from fighting the undead minions the wizard deployed, then ran to a fighting position, where I joined Rask in battling the wizard at sword point. Rask dealt him a flurry of mighty blows, maiming him grievously. He teleported away, leaving his severed arm in the dirt, and we ran him down to deliver the coup de grace.

Even as his last breath left him, Ezrin’s body split and a demon came out of the accursed armor he wore! I was preparing to Dismiss the demon, when a rider appeared! She dispatched the demon with her powerful magic sword, before I could cast my spell.

My fellows knew this warrior woman, and they spoke. She told them she had now dispatched the last of the Abyssal Lords (meaning, the demon she had destroyed in front of us), and that she was now resuming her quest to “kill the gods.”

My fellows tell me that she is in earnest. She was gifted a uniquely powerful magic item, the sword chaotic, to accomplish this quest. My fellows tell us (for Rask, also, did not know this warrior) that they convinced her to kill the Abyssal Lords first, before starting her quest to kill the gods. With that quest complete, however, by her words she vowed to kill Hood, the God of Death.

Could I have stopped her from riding off? Could I have dismissed the demon more quickly, and in so doing, prolonged her quest?

I have a holy charge, to free the land from the corruption of the Dark Hand, and I cannot turn aside from that quest. But in all the world, only we few people know, that a fell warrior woman now seeks to kill the god of death, and if she succeeds, the world will be forever changed. How? We don’t now know. But to me it seems clear, this would be a Bad Thing.

If I did not have the power to roll back time, my dismay over this turn of events would feel less onerous to me. But I alone could turn back time, giving up years of my life to do so, in order to repeat the moment when she dealt the mortal blow that killed the demon. Not only did I err, by letting her kill the final Abyssal Lord, but– though it took minutes for the tale to be recounted to me– I also failed to turn back time and try once again to prevent these events from unfolding.

Raiden help me, I am weak– I could not give up those years of my life to roll back the relentless tide of time’s passage, for a possible intervention in those sudden actions. The certainty losing years of future life, in exchange for only a possibility that, knowing what I know now, I could have stopped them from unfolding, was not a worthy exchange.

Add one more quest to the growing list of wrongs to right. If we eliminate the Dark Hand, without dying, and if we fulfill our promise to retrieve and turn over Dauntless, then I have a deep conviction that thwarting Earica’s quest, must be in my future.

Time Is On Our Side

In the morning, under the hip bone of a giant creature, Rask absentmindedly addresses the whole group:

”Where and when -ever we are is where Raiden wants us, no doubt…”


“I think there are… is? Not really more than one timeline. You all know more about magic and crow-know-mancy than me, but it seems like as little as possible has changed since we saw the Dragon in Nodden Tor compared to before we used all four keys.”

He looks towards Alexis briefly,

”You’ve talked about threads weaving themselves together around Frostbite Pass… you said you saw… various versions of Hadonis and Alikimo… What if those are POSSIBLE versions not different versions?”

”’Our’ Hadonis… he saw the tear twice? He’s different from everyone else you’ve looked at, that way…”

“Somehow Time or The Dragon compensates…”


“or something…”

”No matter. We are here. Now. To stop Sasherak and Bandesing.”

Planning in the Mountains: 200 Miles to Go

The group settles down to camp in the rib cage of the giant, Alexis looks at Gustav. He adjusts the whip at his hip.

“Gus. I want twenty arrows on you before we go into the pass. And we still need to refill myself and Rask who’ve donated you arrows.”

He shrugs slightly. “Shafts and fletching we can make anywhere. Good heads we can’t. Stone won’t punch through armor. Red and I talked about shaving down coins for arrowheads. Not ideal, but better than stone against chainmail.”

He looks north, then back at the group.

“Sixty-five miles behind us. Call it a hundred and eighty-five ahead, fifteen days if the weather lets us, and it won’t. We lost a day to one storm and there’ll be more.”

He looks at Gustav, then at Ca’armine.

“The two of you made us a powerful grove of Raiden outside Nodden-Torr. I’d like that again coming up. Twice if we can manage it. Food is already scarce and it’s only going to get worse up here. The extra time buys us arrows, keeps us safe from the storms, Red might get his shield finished, we make progress on cleaning the Tear and the crystal ball, and we learn a little more about what’s ahead before we walk into it.”

He looks expectantly between the two of them.

The Cracking of the Altar; It Was Noticed

The group stands in front of the, now cracked, altar of Razar. Ca’armine has just finished unleashing the power of Raiden at the undead and at the altar.

“Did you feel that? There was a moment where it pushed back.” He nods slowly. “And then you overpowered it; brought Raiden against it.” He looks at Ca’armine, smiles, and clasps him on the shoulder. “That’s what a champion of Raiden looks like, Carm.”

He turns to the cracked altar and tilts his head slightly.

“Although it would have been easier to study intact.” A small shrug. “Or carry back as treasure on our way back.” He chuckles.

He heads back toward camp with the group.

The Black Iron Crown That Binds

As the group is leaving the mountain lion cave they shared with Sava Alexis is thinking out loud.

“I’ve been thinking more about ‘the crown that binds'”.

“Given what you’ve said about your past, Carm, it seemed reasonable that it could have been Ædelfred’s. But there are a few other crowns at play.”

“Tarkus Vell took his orders from a shadow with a broken crown sitting over its head. I’d still wager that was Bandesingh. And the bronze standard of those ice soldiers: the eye with eight points rising out of it. It reminded us of a crown, and it was carried by the orcs at Nodden-Torr.”

“But then there’s the third image. The image of a crown. A crown of black iron, hanging above an empty skull. And the skull is somewhere in this world. But there is a half formed thing standing in the void watching the crown and the ritual around it.”

“As a little aside, if Shasharak has a skull in this world, could it be something like Zrithrak’s skull or the skulls in the Drayek crypt? Is this a connection?” Alexis moves back to his talk of crowns.

“The three ‘crowns’ are not worn. Two of them hang in the air. The third rises out of an eye.”

“And then there’s the iron connection. The red iron shipments from Tarkus Vell, presumably north to Frostbite Pass. The black iron for the crown over the skull. The iron crown worn by Utiog. And then there’s the verse” he closes his eyes to recall it “Eager are princes who feed him with ore, Edged in red iron and promise of war.” Keeping his eyes closed he continues “and there’s the directive to Find the one who feeds him iron and blood.”

He opens his eyes and adjusts his hat.

“Is red iron just iron that’s been fed blood?”

Alexis shrugs and keeps moving with the group.