Time for Focus and Moving Deeper

The group is spending 2 weeks focusing and regrouping. Alexis spends these two weeks mostly out of camp.

He finds the spot on the first morning. About a hundred yards up a slope from the group campsite there is a cut between two shoulders of rock, narrow enough that a man standing in it fills it, out of the wind and out of sight of anything below. He walks it end to end many times and does not come back down until midday.

He clears the floor of it to bare stone. He cuts a carving into the rock and lays ash into the cut, and chalks Raiden’s sigils around the outside of it, and holds the wooden focus Ethelred made him flat against the ground while he imbues the space with a subtle but pervasive power.

Alexis even finds a granite and quartz surface that he can grind coins against. He and Ethelred often talk about putting in the effort oneself to make a thing stronger. Alexis sweats to grind a couple coins at an awkward angle.

He gathers what will work for incense. Pine resin, a bark that smells of pepper once it dries, some mushrooms. He burns them in the mornings and chants over them a long while, not loudly. The smoke stays in the narrow place, sitting there and growing stronger.

He sits at the closed end of the cut, facing in, and keeps the watch himself. Incense burning and chanting the whole time.

Down at the camp the fortnight is unremarkable. The mornings are mild considering the season. There is a peace at camp.

Any of the rangers, if they walked up to look, find Alexis kneeling on cold rock with his sleeves shoved back, working and/or chanting. It is a great deal of labor in a very small space.

He comes down at midday and again at dinner. He eats more than he usually does and talks less than he usually does and is in his blanket early. Twice in the fortnight somebody lets him sleep through his watch, and in the morning he does not argue about it.

To Be Informed Is To Be Forearmed

The island on the water level. The others sleep between the two palm trees. Alexis takes the far one.

He told them at the fire what his working was for. The Tear is close and he wants the guidance of the Inner Watch on the tear and the taint. Rask seemed to like the idea.

The carving takes most of the night. He scrapes the sand down to the wet layer and cuts it with the butt of his whip, a section at a time, sitting back to look along the line and then leaning in again.

What it comes out as, for anyone who woke and looked: a wall, drawn as a closed ring around the foot of the tree. Set into the inside of the wall, facing in, a single open eye.

Then he sits back on his heels and lets his eyes go, and for a long while nothing happens at all.

The sand inside the ring starts glowing faintly, evenly. The dim light fades and comes back. Haze comes off the water somewhere in there and settles at knee height around Alexis and his glowing working.

“It answers in the voice you expect,” Alexis mutters to himself.

“The Second Sun was broken and it was called progress as the ruins of what was wrought was stepped on.”

Later.

“The ancients keep it in in rings nobody wears.”

The light under the sand goes almost out, and returns.

“There are shadows around it, it doesn’t throw.”

“The ladder of the gods was climbed with mortal bones and entry was denied, but hubris never ends.”

“It seeks out its others. Its others are itself.”

A long time after that, quieter.

“You will be asked to set it down. Once by a one who wants it. Once by a one who loves you.”

“The one is supported by the two.”

“Find the one who feeds him iron and blood… the one who believes he can control him”

His hands are flat on the sand.

“It remembers.”

The haze is gone by the time he comes back to himself, and the sand has stopped giving light. His knees have locked. Alexis works the feeling into them, then goes around the ring on his hands and knees, putting the sand back in place.

“Well,” he says. “That’s more than I had.”

Of Aegier

During the few times Ethelred catches glimpse of Rask’s tattoos he notices something. Maybe it is this latest set of scrolls from the Colleguim. Maybe something else from the recent adventure.

Red notices that Rask’s tattoos are not specifically Radien focused. There are elements of course. But the designs seem very focused on Aegier itself. As if the lands themselves have power.

“Rask, I have noticed that your tattoos are not what I had expected. It seems they are not as focused on Raiden as I had assumed.”

“I have been studying runes with this most recent batch of scrolls. Has given me a new appreciation for the design, the intent, the effects of such workings.”

“What can you tell me of the designs? The effects? What meaning they have to you?”

Mushrooms

Ca’armine has trouble settling down, the first few days in the wild.  The last few days his world—did he even think of “world” in the same way before?—has been turned upside down.  The sense, of not feeling Raiden’s presence, haunts him.  And now?  Raiden is there when Ca’armine reaches out, but it’s different somehow.  He doesn’t know how exactly, yet. Things are different. 

The monastery wasn’t there anymore.  Tumble down stones, he imagined– but they weren’t there.  Every member of the team, walked past the clearing.  All of them saw it.  All of them looked a second time.  None of them stopped. 

We knew things were different right then.  We were back in the world.  But things were deeply different.

On the third day—praying to Raiden every day, communing with his god, but on a level that maintained, rather than grew, their bond—he realized that he was different. 

Not the person who had walked into Nodden-Tor. 

First he prepared his spells for the day, then he checked in with his team to let them know he would be away.  He put on his pack, with nothing in it but a water skin and a blanket, strapped a knife on his belt, and set forth.  After a few minutes, he picked up speed and ran across the clearings between trees, to get space between himself and the area he had already explored, hunted, and knew well.

He did not stop to forage or hunt on the first day, so when night came he laid down hungry.  He woke up with the sun, already feeling better.  Today he did not commune with Raiden.  He got up and started running.again.

Before the sun got back to midheaven, though, he felt the fatigue start to slow him, and he started hunting instead.  The knife was the wrong tool, so he made a spear.  He found a muddle of rabbit tracks in a bit, and held still by a maple tree until the rabbits felt confident to leave their holes.  He got two.  Tying them up he started looking for  downed wood and a place to build a fire. 

Along with the wood, he found some mushrooms.  Intrigued, he examined them.  When crushed the stems turned blue.  He gathered all of them, and he moved on with cooking.  Why not grab some salt on the way out of camp!  Ca’armine laughed at himself and ate the damn coneys.  With some of the mushrooms.

Things got different then. 

Eating the bluing mushrooms, had been an important point in his first months away from the Raidensblud.  Long ago, there was a random night at a random inn, when a fellow-traveler had offered him a soil-bound cluster of the same type, warning him they were “strong.”  They roamed around together that night, until Rion—Ca’armine thought he was probably a thief by trade though he said he was in “real estate”—said he needed to lie down.  That was the night Ca’armine realized that, he must be a servant of Raiden, without being a tool of the Raidensblud.  It was compicated, it was intense, it was revelatory.  For awhile he thought he might be a druid.

Ca’armine spent the whole night under the stars that night, communing with Raiden and feeling the earth.  The mushrooms made him vomit of course, they always did—so in the morning he felt the pangs of hunger intensely.  When the partridges came out in the early morning he knocked one down with a well-aimed stone, and cooked breakfast in the same fire.  He started walking back to the party’s loose encampment.

When he resumed his training the next day, and rejoined his comrades in training activities, he found a change in his perspectives.  An additional dimensionality—time, frequently, fittingly—using greater spell complexity to achieve greater effects.  Finding capacity for closer and more frequent communion with Raiden.  Expanding on the ability to protect from, and even to purge, evil attachment. Growing more powerful.

This world might be different from the one where he was born.  But it’s the world where he lives.  Where he serves Raiden. 

Thereafter, he spends time every day seeking out components from the forest around, especially bluing mushrooms, and making incense with those components. 

Vorgoth, Raiden, Bandesingh, and Shasharak

The Crimson Calling has arrived at their camp site east of Nodden-Torr, and the rangers are finalizing the details before camp is truly struck. Alexis has wrapped his winter blanket around him. He waits until the four others are near enough that he doesn’t have to raise his voice.

“Good job” Nodding at Gustav, Ca’armine, and Rask. “Before we settle in. A thought gnawing at me since the fire lake. At the time when I spoke with Vorgoth, I was just giving you all my best translations, but I was also distracted by listening to him. He said a few things that require reflection.”

A silver piece starts over his knuckles.

“I’d given him the name Bandesingh, and that he means to bring back Ath and put the world in darkness. He’d never heard of the man in his life.”

“He said: ‘Bandesingh. Another one who mistakes certainty for wisdom.'”

The coin walks.

“Then: ‘So. Shasharak has found another road. The dragon believed he would.'”

He lets that stand a moment.

“A few ways I can take ‘another road’.”

“One. Bandesingh is the road. Plain reading. I asked all of you a while back whether Bandesingh learned his trade from Shasharak or whether two men arrived at the same answer on their own. If Vorgoth’s right, that’s answered.” Alexis shugs as-if a mystery could be checked off his list.

“Two. Another road to a Tear, not to this Tear.” Alexis points to his belt pouch “Bandesingh has two. If what Shasharak wanted was one of these and not our particular one, he got it centuries ago, and we never really thwarted Shasharak.”

“Three. Another road to what he actually wanted, which was to be a god. The Tear in the time-vault was one way. He found a different one.”

“Four.” The coin stops. “‘The dragon believed he would.’ He planned for a man to go around him. Whatever he built in there, he built it knowing it would be walked past, and then he left it to five strangers seven hundred years (or longer) later.” A slight shrug, and a nod off to the side. “There’s a possibility that we were the arrangement the Dragon made for losing.”

He pockets the coin.

“But back to Vorgoth.”

“I handed him the name of Bandesingh, which he had never heard and two sentences about a man alive right now. He didn’t ask me a single question. He set him beside Shasharak on the spot.”

“Earlier in that conversation I’d said Raiden. He said, ‘You say Raiden, the last true king. I saw him once in the flames.'”

“Vorgoth has stood in that room since at least some time in the 2nd age. Raiden doesn’t rise until a minimum of one hundred and sixty years after that. He cannot have seen him. Not face-to-face.”

“So. He sees forward in that fire. Or standing outside of time he’s able to see time flow outside the time-vault, which would make that fire room a stranger place than we initially gathered.”

Alexis’ tone shifts to light-hearted, almost joking “Or he has simply met enough men like Bandesingh to know one by the smell.”

The coin starts walking his fingers again and Alexis looks at his companions for any possible insights they might have.

How to continue on the path of Raiden

A week into leveling up

Ethelred has been keeping on a eye on Alexis since we left the dwarven cave with the Tear of Ave.

Red approaches Ca’ramine.

“Car’mine… I want to ask you about Alexis and his keen focus on the Tear of Ave. Let me explain.

When I first met Alexis he was following the god of luck. He always had a coin and took the whims of the world as a challenge.

Then he switched to Ave. I never fully understood this choice, but saw the benefits and the meaning it brought Alexis.

When you and Rask joined the balance of the party changed in many ways. The obvious was the push for conflict resolution through strength. But the more important shift was towards Aigeir and towards Raiden. Once again Alexis switched to newer god. And I get the reason and I see the many benefits.

But now we find ourselves at yet another crossroads. I see two paths. One where Alexis stays with Raiden, and the larger party. One path where Alexis get pulled back towards Ave.

That gem is powerful. More powerful than I think we fully yet understand.

I ask you to keep an eye on Alexis. Especially if we want to keep him on the path of Radien.”

Meditations and Movement

Rask helps set up camp, hunts and gathers with Gustav and Ca’armine. He prays to Raiden joyfully everyday, and does the short forms of exercises as usual until enough stores are gathered. Once stores are gathered and camp is set, he prays even more often. Whenever it seems appropriate asks the others questions about nature, plants, survival, focus and concentration.

His solo prayer and training become meditative. He talks deeply with Ca’armine about strength of will, how to maintain focus and resolve. He speaks of these same things with Alexis and Ethelred. He watches Gustav but only asks the ranger about nature, tracking and the like.

He talks with Ethelred about the crafting of weapons and armor, sharing his perspective as a warrior and learning about the basics of the methods of building, shaping, joining the materials to make arms and armor.

He sets aside his spiked gauntlet entirely at some point as the weeks pass. He makes it clear that he is happy for it to become raw materials again if no one is excited about using it.

Those who know go to look for such things may notice that most of his fighting maneuvers are focuses on subduing the opponent with the flat of the blade, the pommel, even and knee or elbow. The moves are precise and clearly powerful, there are no movements that sacrifice precision for power, and his focus is clearly not on deadly slashes and thrusts. He is steady and deeply focused throughout the forms.

Rask is calmer, more focused at the end of the three weeks. He walks a bit more quietly, reacts a bit more quickly, and is more nimble.

Cut Off From the Raw Power of Aegir

“There’s something happening here, but what it is ain’t exactly clear.”

While Ethelred crafts his magical compass, Rask keeps watch, cleans his gear, tends to camp, and does his exercises much as he always does when the group camps. He prays to Raiden before and after his exercises and before he settles in for the night. He often joins Ca’armine in ritual prayers to Raiden. Those that might notice such things may see the look of concern and disappointment that occasionally flashes across his face when he uncharacteristically falters during his exercises, or even more rarely stumbles during chores. It is similar to they way he carried himself in the Grasslands on the way to the First Gate, but missing the bitter fury he carried then.

After a few days, and shortly after a round of prayers to Raiden, before settling in for the evening, Rask speaks to Ca’armine and Gustav.

“Ca’arm, do you understand what is going on here?” The question seem somewhat Rhetorical, and the warrior continues before Ca’armine can start to answer.

“I’m cut off from Raiden, or Aegir I guess?

Rask looks to Gustav briefly.

“Mage-Eye did say that my tattoos channeled the Raw Power of Aegir… Like I was in the Grasslands, I’m not as fast or as tough here. It feels like part of me is missing. I’m getting more used to it, but that… worries me that much more.”

Rask pauses and looks at the ranger and then the priest, more sad that worried, really.

“You two can stall call on The Power though, and when you do, I feel that connection again…”

Rask smiles wanly, recalling the comfort Raiden’s protections bring.

“I think Hadonis may not have been completely lying Brothers. This place… something is different here…”

He pauses, clearly asking for Ca’armine and Gustav’s thoughts this time,

“What do you think is going on here?” Rask guestures broadly

About to get Shafted

The group has been awake for a little while, moving through the quiet routines of breaking a camp that was never quite a camp. Eight plush chairs in a room that has no business existing where it does. Everyone present.

Alexis sits forward, elbows on knees, and tilts his hat brim up toward the shaft in the ceiling.

“Before we move, I want to talk about that hole.” He looks up at it for a moment. “There’s light up there. And this room is clean. No debris, no dust, nothing that should have fallen down from wherever that shaft goes.” A pause. “That’s worth understanding before we decide what to do with it.”

He looks around the group.

“Carm, I want to ask you something that might be a long shot. Your connection with Raiden,” he chooses his words carefully, “is there any chance he could tell us when we are? Not where. When.”

He looks back at the shaft.

“And does anyone have a way to learn more about what’s up there before we commit to anything? I’d rather know more than less before we start climbing.”

The Inner Watch

The group is moving away from their camp back towards Nodden-Torr ahead. Alexis falls into step beside Ca’armine.

“Something came out of my studies this past fortnight. A name I didn’t recognize.” He glances over. “The Inner Watch. Some kind of sect inside the order.” He watches Ca’armine’s face. “Have you heard of it?”