Tag Archives: Copper Coins

A River Of Lost Souls Ahead

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Zrithrak has been driven from Rask. Alexis has exclaimed that Hood had come to claim the spirit while holding a fly in his hands. Since those moments the group has gathered their things and barely started toward Ghanil again. Packs shifted, gear checked, the wagon creaking along. Alexis addresses the group.

“I keep circling back to that soothsayer—Ness Brightleaf.” He waves absently, not toward anywhere in particular, just back into memory.

“Something like: ‘Ahead of me, a river of lost souls. Some spirits refuse to sleep. The voices of the dead yearn for rest. Their whispers bring dark tidings.’” He shrugs, not claiming perfect recall. “Or close enough.”

The copper coin keeps running over his knuckles as his gaze sweeps the line of travelers, pausing a fraction longer on Ca’armine. “Zrithrak fits—soul that wouldn’t sleep. But did he ever want rest? Or was he holding on?”

He gives the priest space, then presses on.

“I still think of that dwarven spirit in Dura-Intun. The one who spoke of Kobos. He was restless. Wanted Hood’s gate, wanted peace. And that city of the dead? That’s different. They’re bound by the Endless Hunger. Won’t let them rest. Zrithrak wasn’t bound like that.”

The coin flashes once, drops into his palm. “So what kept him?”

Who Knows About Trolls

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The campfire cracked and hissed, throwing its smoke into the night air. The Crimson Calling alone around it.

Alexis sat near the flames, hat brim low, a copper coin working its way over his knuckles. Across from him, Ca’armine’s red cloak caught the firelight, while Rask sat rigid, a soldier even when still.

Ethelred’s words about troll-powder still hung in the air, fragments of theory and half-formed warnings. Alexis let them fade, then leaned forward just enough to set his shadow across the fire. His voice carried evenly, with the kind of weight that didn’t need raising.

“You’ve heard what we’ve seen,” he said. “Trolls. Powder. What it does. That’s the measure of it so far.” The coin paused between his fingers, then rolled again, catching a lick of firelight before vanishing back into shadow.

He studied the two newest men in the group, letting the silence stretch a breath longer than comfort. “What about you? Raiden’s people don’t waste time. Do they know more about this enemy?”

The fire popped. The coin clicked once against his ring before disappearing back into motion. Alexis didn’t move otherwise, just watched them across the flames, steady and expectant.

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.”