GM Matt Morris's Quest for the Frozen Flame

Game Master ChesterCopperpot

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Every year for nearly six generations, the Broken Tusks have followed mammoth herds in a circular migration pattern spanning most of the western Realm of the Mammoth Lords. The people follow traditions handed down from time immemorial, including the art of survival in a harsh land and rituals which were already old when the world was young.

At present, the Broken Tusks have set up camp on the Gornok Plain. Here, they plan to observe the Night of the Green Moon—a holiday during which the people bid farewell to winter’s hardships and celebrate the arrival of spring. As in years prior, the Tusks hold their ceremony amid a ring of weathered standing stones called Rockloom. Not far from the standing stones, the following has established their encampment, where they can craft their ceremonial garb, forage for food, and rejoice in the calm and peace of the Gornok Plain.

Dot

This wind-tanned Kellid girl carries herself with a princess’s grace. Her emerald eyes sweep her surroundings, bright and curious; her copper hair is woven into a profusion of braids and held out of her eyes by an ivory circlet set with moonstones; and her figure would have the slender athleticism of an acrobat or swimmer but for her broad shoulders and full hips.

She wears a heavy fur cloak and hide breastplate over a belted tunic of serpent scales, decorated with raptor feathers at the shoulders and hips. The tunic leaves her arms bare, revealing brawny muscles, a few tattoos and similar body modifications, and the scars of an active life. Her left arm ends just below the elbow in a healed-over stub, the old injury contrasted by a beaten-iron armlet depicting twining serpents. At her belt is a curious and exotic southern-style sword, its short straight blade of steel gleaming with oils, its hilt wrapped in snakeskin and capped with a serpent’s fang.

Impulse sits on a small rock, their attention deeply focused on fiddling with a spring-like metal piece that pulls down the back of their axe and turns the head of it to better pierce the hides of creatures about, after the last hunt nearly ended in a draw between the animal and the hunters.

Ever difficult to read, especially considering the eye wear they seem intent on using that blocks any view of their eyes, for once you can sense a kind of nervous air coming off the young android. As if they are distinctly trying to look certain about their position while being very obviously uncertain.

A golden-eyed, dark-haired, and tanned Kellid, her hair tied into knots decorated with leather thongs and ribbons of bright natural colors of the current season, stands attentively beside a large terror bird whose feathers sport similar decor. Iskra of the Oski, as you know her, is dressed in hides and furs that only add to her tall and wide frame's visible muscular bulk, but when she moves- sparing gestures here and there- she possesses a quiet fluidity. At her hips are sheathed twin wide-hilted daggers clearly of Sarkorian make, and a stout hunting lance and three javelins are slung across her back. The few bits of her exposed skin display numerous ornate tattoos of the eastern Kellids, in some ways resembling but not entirely accurate to animals of the Realm.

Iskra practically vibrates with excitement- it's clear she has great enthusiasm for what lies before her, and on occasion, she draws one of her strange daggers and uses the well-honed edge to clean out errant dirt from under her blunted nails.

The bird, Tomi, regards the proceedings with the alien mindset of an avian, occasionally pecking with great speed to consume an errant varmint or snap an insect from the air.

Eirthgim stands facing the horizon, their sharp, dark eyes tracking the play of wind over snow and sky over earth. They tuck a few errant strands of black hair behind a tapered ear, then mutter in frustration when the ever-present wind immediately teases them back out.

The same breeze tickles the many fox furs, summer and winter both, that crowd the collar and shoulders of Eirthgim's heavy robes. At well over 20 hands tall, they'd entertained more than their fair share of jokes about how cold it must be up among the peaks. Really, it was just that everywhere was cold compared to their usual spot by the hearth.

Unless, of course...

Eirthgim turned back to where hearthsmoke curled up from Musk Ox tents. "Not long now before the Green Moon, friend, and I know how you love the standing stones. Will you walk with me, before the field overcrowds?"

By way of response, a familiar sigil flickers to life on Eirthgim's forehead. It had felt blazing unbearable at first, those many years ago, but now they appreciated it. Hot as hearth and holding and sacred duty, all the things that sustain and drive us. It should burn.

A few firelights twisted out of the chill air at Eirthgim's side to assemble into an identical sigil. There was a rush of hot air, smoke, and steam, like seeing a star fall into a frozen lake, and then the next moment the great cat was beside them. His back, tail, and curved ram's horns were all alight.

They smiled down at their friend and mentor. "It's a cold and lonely world without you, Agn. I don't know how the others manage it."

The cat's laugh emerged in a puff of warm, steaming breath. "Not everyone shares your commitment to curmudgeonliness."

The Adventure Begins!

Grandfather Eiwa’s request was clear: hunt down and bring back a meal worthy of the upcoming Night of the Green Moon. With the expert aid of head scout Wipa, tracking down a suitable beast was easy. Pakano, your fellow scout-in-training, all but whooped with excitement during the hunt. With the quarry in sight, now comes the hard part—killing it.

In the forest copse beyond some thick foliage, dim morning light outlines a lone bull moose nearly as big as a baby mammoth. The moose casts a wide shadow on the ridge to the north. The sound of trickling water from a stream to the west intermingles with that of the moose idly munching on the tender grass sprouting from the recently thawed tundra. Your hunting party lurks behind thick foliage, planning the right moment to strike.

“This is our prey,” Wipa whispers. “We must not startle him. If we do, and he charges us, our only choice is to run.”

Her solemn, quiet words are met with a snort from Pakano, a young Kellid hunter whose beautiful face perpetually bears an arrogant sneer. “Let’s just get him,” he growls.

Wipa silences the youth with a wave of her hand.

"This animal is our superior in strength, size, and speed,” she says calmly. “Before we strike, we must try to press our advantage.”

A map for reference. What would you like to do to get the drop on the moose? Wipa has some suggestions, as a veteran scout, but she'd like to see where your instincts lead you as well. Also, she's fully pregnant, so she won't be helping! Don't worry--the moose won't overhear you discussing your plans.

dotting, post to come

Kala Dja listens intently to the head scout as she explains. She’s never been expected to front a hunting party before—in fact, she’s not even been out hunting since her foolish injury—and the following’s newest scout is eager to show herself qualified for her new duty. Peering carefully through the foliage at the immense beast, Kala opens her mind to Asha, reaching into her pouches of esoterica for something apt to their prey.

Esoteric Lore to Exploit Vulnerability: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17 against a standard DC for the creature’s level. If this check succeeds and the result would also succeed or critically succeed against the creature’s Recall Knowledge DC, she also gains info as if she had done so.

The essence of the moment—she and her allies, strategizing to hunt a greater prey animal that no one among them could fell—leads her fingers to a scrap of wolf’s fur, which she carefully tucks between her hand and the hilt of her spirit-blade. As she does, Kala Dja murmurs a paean to the wolf’s lingering spirit, imploring it to guide her strikes to the bull moose’s weaknesses.

Returning her attention to the group, Kala quietly taps her remaining wrist against her hip in a complex rhythm; a common sign that the songsinger-in-training is deep in thought. “If the moose will charge a single challenger,” she ventures after a moment, “perhaps we should present him with several. Approaching from all directions, as would a wolf pack, might confuse his instincts, allowing us to pick him apart and bring him low.”

Ever eager to prove herself, Kala glances around at her fellow scouts, taking their measures in turn before continuing. “Agn and Tomi are very quick, and might circle around to cut off his escape and create confusion. Grandfather-Sibling—” she nods at Eirthgim, “—and our spirit-sister—” and at Hengroi, “—might summon hearthfire or earth lightning to disquiet and confuse him. And then...” The young animist gestures at herself and Iskra, then at Pakano. Finally, she nods at Impulse, a little sheepishly; she hadn’t anticipated being accompanied by the storm spirit, but the opportunity to regain her honor in their eyes is one she eagerly welcomes. “...we four outflank and bring down the prey.”

Kala Dja finishes her proposal with a sage nod, a proud smile crossing her features as she looks around at the others, then to Wipa for approval or correction.

Somewhat shyly- an unusual gesture from the normally boisterous ranger- Iskra raises a hand. "That's similar to my thinking, Kala, surrounding it if possible. I might have an idea to add, if I may."

She clears her throat and grabs a stick, marking a crude map of the area in the dirt. "If we spread out in too obvious a trap, the moose might hesitate- or it might pick someone to charge at random. What if one of us-" she draws a stick figure astride what could be a cloud but is probably meant to be Tomi- "makes a clear and obvious target while the rest lie in wait, and we draw it between these two trees here? I have a lot of rope; we could make a hanging tangle of loops and knots, tied to each tree, at moose-head height. Running pell-mell at an obvious mark, the moose is unlikely to consider, or maybe even notice, the ropes, and snag its antlers in them. If we're lucky, the beast might even break its own neck!" Iskra's voice is barely contained to the conspiratorial wisper it was at with her last remark; she's proud of the addition, but clearly unsure of what the rest of the party thinks of it.

"And if not, we'll be in prime position to make best use of each of our abilities, hopefully with the target entangled for the duration."

The young orc fidgets anxiously in the position the party has staked out. She's been waiting for this her whole life - longer, even. Her unadorned leather clothing may not be solid, but the determination is her eyes is palpable. She would not fail. She would excel. Hengroi would be a legend.

"Perhaps we could expand on this idea - give the moose some opportunity to run. If we all appear at once, then there's less chance to weaken it as it runs back and forth." Hengroi points a transparent hand towards severlpositions surrounding the clearing. "We each take positions surrounding the beast, and appear only as they hurtle towards us. This'll make it waste precious steps trying to get away - opportunity for us to pelt it before snaringit." She smirks, satisfied that herplan is a good one.

Her leshy familiar, Clipping, gives a thumbs-up.

Impulse snarls, their unnaturally white teeth shining through the angry grimace. "What is with you hunters and your traps? I'm the one who always gets saddled with making them!"

They sigh, and start pacing around in a circle deep in thought. They slowly twirl a portion of their tied back hair in-between two fingers, with flat and blank expression. "Just give me that stick, I'll play along, fine."

They spend the next minute very quietly sketching out a surprisingly intricate lattice of rope with some extra barding to strengthen the attached sections and the center against a Realm level animal threat. "Something like this?" Surprisingly, the loner does look up and look back and forth around between the rest of the group, waiting for an approval of the design.

The design itself is well drawn, if any of the following had seen architectural blueprints in their time passing through various towns, it would immediately evoke a resemblance. Two or three labels point at the reinforced sections, one of which having a label above it written in odd blocky and nearly runic looking lettering that stops halfway, is scribbled over and then the common regional tongue written underneath it.

Eirthgim leaned on the forked staff they used to move pots, poke coals and, it seemed, pursue prey. They'd rarely been involved in hunts, but the dour elder was always preaching about the following banding together to fill the community's needs.
What the Broken Tusk needed was scouts, and what Eirthgim needed to do was practice what they preached. Agn had made that well and clear. It had helped that he was, of course, correct, though that didn't stop Eirthgim from giving the hearthcat an exaggerated poke with their staff. And if it looked like that staff was scratching behind any shoulders, well, there were always strange sights near the standing stones around Green Moon time.

They craned over the Oski's drawings, then lifted their chin twoard Impulse's knotwork. "A sound plan, and sound craftwork. Lead it into the trap, tire it out, then we can further entangle it."
Their fingers tapped out a staccato rhythm on their staff, then they tapped its butt against the half-thawed ground. Steam erupted from the earth, frost dissolving to reveal a sudden patch of thick, bubbling mud.

Agn padded up behind them and, without looking, Eirthgim leaned back against an ashen flank just as the little god settled onto his haunches.
Agn's voice rumbled softly, an old tale of thunder. "Be like wolves - wise words. Hunt smart, hunt pack-close, hunt coordinated. Then a cleanly won gift and full bellies."

Kala Dja nods as the others voice their suggestions, not quite stifling the flinch when Impulse snarls. Outwardly she is focused, attentive, and ready. Internally, though, a sliver of doubt worms its way into the young animist’s heart. All she’d managed to contribute was the most basic outline of a plan, something any child could have come up with; it’d taken the others to flesh it out into something useful. A wiser huntress might understand that this is in fact the essence of teamwork and good leadership, but Kala has yet to earn wisdom through age or through deed.

Not wanting to prove completely useless to the scouting party, the young Kellid clears her throat and warriors on. “I think this is an excellent plan, Iskra.” Kala punctuates this with an encouraging smile for her friend. “And your, um, design is impressive as ever,” she murmurs in Impulse’s general direction, nodding just a tiny bit too enthusiastically. Flashing an uncertain glance at Eirthgim—had their compliment been intended for her as well, or for Iskra alone?—Kala hesitates.

She can worry about disappointing her grandfather’s sibling (and self-appointed guardian) later, though; it’d hardly be the first time, after all. Hiding the impish little smile that she reserves for the god-caller’s reproachments, the young animist pushes doubt and mirth away and relaxes, opening herself up to the world around her. Asha, she silently whispers to herself, trying to see her surroundings with fresh eyes.

In retrospect, the answer was obvious. “I have another idea to add,” Kala shyly offers. “Lesson four of the Realm: if you can’t get away, get above. I could climb up into the trees and attempt to draw his attention above, drawing his ire while remaining out of reach.” The Kellid girl sneaks an uncertain glance at her left arm; she’d once been an expert climber, but that was, well, before. She’d just have to try twice as hard now. Looking back up at the others, Kala adds, “And if all else fails, I could attempt to frighten the bull.” The thought makes the young woman smile, sunny and optimistic. “Perhaps that will drive him into our snare?”

Cunning plans in place, the group prepares for the hunt. Pakano has been listening closely to the planning, doing his best to stay quiet, but not contributing any ideas of his own.

Make a skill check to represent your contribution to the plan. For instance, Impulse would likely make a Crafting check. I'm open to whichever skills you think are most appropriate--for instance you could use Athletics to Climb a tree or Acrobatics to balance in its branches. Don't worry if your posts are a little contradictory, just post how you would like to contribute. After all, plans seldom survive first contact with the [s]enemy[/i] moose. Success on these checks will influence how the encounter plays out.

Once everyone is in place, Iskra slips through the underbrush, finding a spot visible between the two trees to hide until it's time to call Tomi over, mount up, piss off a moose, and likely dodge a very impressive set of antlers in the process.

Iskra Oski's Stealth (T): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

...Unfortunately, Iskra's left foot found a particularly tricky tree root, causing her to stumble briefly and let out a silent swear. She musters herself, and...

Iskra Oski's Stealth (T): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8 Hero Point

She freezes, checking to see if the moose noticed her and hoping everyone else got in position first. Her fingers rise to her lips, ready to whistle for Tomi as soon as things go sideways.

Impulse intently ties and weaves together ropes, branches and some spiky dried pine needles. Then they tie the contraption between two trees, and rub some extra pine resin on to cover its scent to the massive creature.

Crafting: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

They slowly back away and take a good long look at it, eventually nodding and rushing away for cover.

Kala keeps her distance for the moment to avoid startling the prey. As the others begin to spread out, the young animist takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed as she fully sublimates herself in Asha.

Esoteric Lore: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

The singing of water. Plants waking in morning’s first light. Leaves rustling in wind. Systolic thunder of sap flowing through trunk and branch. Scent of beast and water and earth. Rich green taste of spring grass from the podzol between the prey’s teeth, the contentment it brings him. The world around Kala Dja unfolds like a blossoming flower, every aspect flawlessly interlaced with those around it.

Kala knows, on a level deeper than instinct, which way the moose will break when the trap is sprung; with a subtle bird-call, she gestures Impulse towards a different gap in the trees. Sensing Iskra’s moment of uncertainty, the young animist gestures her friend forward; the moose’s instinctual wariness will pass quickly once she is in place. She’s not yet sure where Eirthgim, Agn, and Hengroi fit into the snare—magic, even that drawn from nature itself, adds layers of complication to the already intricate complexity of Asha—but as they begin to act, Kala whispers guidance and gestures them into their places in the deadly spiderweb the scouts are weaving.

Glancing over her shoulder, Kala considers Pakano uncertainly; there’s certainly no love lost between the arrogant young man and herself. And even Asha offers little guidance to the actions and motives of one so thoroughly closed off from his peers. But part of being a good leader is leading everyone, no matter one’s personal feelings... besides which, Wipa is watching, and Kala Dja is not going to be the one at fault here. Turning to Pakano with an encouraging smile, she asks, “You are so eager, and I do not wish for you to play no part in this great hunt. What role will you take? I can guide you to the best position.” The young animist continues to guide the others as she awaits his response.

Eirthgim’s Intimidation check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Agn’s Athletics: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
Agn hero point: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Impulse sets up their snare, it's intricate weaving cleverly hidden from sight and smell. Kala directs her companions to the perfect positions, ensuring that the moose will have nowhere to flee from the hunters.

Pakano considers Kala's directions, and says to her. "Thank you for your advice, but I know my place! Let's take this creature!" He dashes out into the clearing!

The sudden movement startles Iskra, sending her foot down on a snapping branch. The moose lifts its head in alarm, and grunts aggresively at the foolishly-charging young Pakano. Just as the creature lowers its head for a charge, a burst of flame from Eirthgim's staff disorients it, causing it to rear back. Instead of trampling the agressive youth, it knocks him to the ground with a glancing blow. He rolls on the earth, groaning and clutching his head.

But, you've got other concerns on your mind as the moose scents you on the wind! It starts toward the group, but its quickly caught in Impulse's clever snare, hindering its mobility. It trumpets a frustrated challenge.

~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Impulse
Eirthgim
Kala
Iskra
Moose (clumsy 2, flat-footed, frightened 1)

Map

Moose Conditions: (Based on skill rolls, some of which have different DCs)
Impulse: Critical Success. Moose Clumsy 2 for 1 minute
Kala Dja: Success. Moose flat-footed for 3 rounds. You may start anywhere you like on the map.
Eirthgrim: Success. Moose frightened 1 and you are concealed from it for 1 round

Iskra lets out a whistle, and Tomi runs to her side, where she saddles up. "You ready, girl?" Iskra whispers before spurring the terror bird forward, lance out and main gauche set for an immediate slash.

Command Animal; Tomi Strides adjacent; Mount; we Stride to moose; Twin Takedown with Jousting on the war lance (+1 damage, d6 damage die, one-handed weapon) and Twin Strike (main-gauche at +5 attack); damage is combined before applying resistances and weaknesses, if any; the pair move to flank with Agn

Iskra Oski's war lance attack (T): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
Iskra Oski's war lance damage (P): 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Iskra Oski's main gauche attack (T): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Iskra Oski's main gauche damage (Versatile S): 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Impulse peeks around from behind the bush at Pakano's incredibly bone-headed display.

"That one may in fact have some screws lose in his head. Sadly, I don't think I have near enough tools to fix that problem... and I certainly have a lot of tools. Including this one!"

Impulse slides down a subtle switch on the right hand side of their strangely weighted greataxe.

Overdrive vs DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

The familiar buzz of the axe's power source kicking in is all the motivation they need to rush the moose head on! "The hunter now becomes the hunted!"

Innovation Greataxe: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Slashing Damage, OD: 1d12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 1 = 10

Overdrive, Stride, Strike

Oh no. Kala Dja grits her teeth as Pakano rushes forward, wincing as he’s bashed to the ground. At least he’s more or less safe... even if the two of them don’t always see eye-to-eye, Pakano is still a Broken Tusk, and his death lessens the following. Hopefully he has the good sense—in defiance of all the evidence—to get out from under the immense beast.

Setting aside Pakano and his foolishness for the moment, Kala considers the situation. She’s never fought something this dangerous before; at least, not without her bow and arrows. Kala’s gaze flicks to her maimed arm, and she sighs to herself. A girl must learn, as her mother’s tales had often said. But... the plan has worked. The snare, the outflanking, Grandfather-Sibling’s sky-fire. The advantage is theirs. An impish grin dawns upon Kala’s face. Time to show Pakano how it’s done.... she hopes.

Spirit-blade and wolf-fur scrap held firmly in her remaining hand, Kala bounds out into the glade. Taking a deep breath, she howls out, “Asha!” The spirit-blade pulses in her hand, awakening from its slumber with a hiss as the young animist whirls it around her head. As it sweeps out, it separates into its segmented length, twisting and darting like a mammoth’s trunk, seeking the prey’s weakest points.

Strike: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Strike damage: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 including the weakness from personal antithesis

That seemed good! Heartened by success, Kala Dja pours more awareness into her spirit-blade, entreating it to lash out again.

Strike: 1d20 + 6 - 5 ⇒ (19) + 6 - 5 = 20
Strike damage: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11 including the weakness from personal antithesis

Thoroughly satisfied with her handiwork, Kala Dja settles into a swaying dance, doing her best to elude antlers and hooves. For its part, the spirit-blade weaves in tune with the young animist’s swaying, waiting for an opening on the bull moose’s part.

Kala Dja Strides, then Strikes twice. First level!

After the impressive displays of Iskra, Tomi, Impulse, and Kala Dja, there's little for the moose to do but bugle its last breath and collapse to the snow-kissed ground.

"Wolf-mind," Agn intones, a hint of pride in the ancient spirit's voice, "you have done an impressive thing. A credit to the following."

He then turns whiteflame eyes on Eirthgim. "But why did you not join the pack, hearthread? You are not so old or infirm to miss a hunt." Agn's flaming tail mischievously swishing tail left glistening meltwater in its path.

The elder huffed and rolled their eyes. "Not every packmate must clench their fangs for the kill. Flames to drive the bravery from the prey are easily as valuable."
Their expression softened. "Aggravating as he is, however, he's correct. You were the wolf-mind, there, in that moment," they said, picking their way toward Pakano's unconscious form. "Hopefully this fool learns what he can accomplish with the rest of the pack behind him. If he were awake I'd clap him on his thick skull, but I think he created sufficient indignity himself."

At Eirthgim's wise words, Pakano stirs, "Ugh, my head. I almost had him." The young man sits, cradling his head as you gather around the moose carcass.

Wipa approaches to survey your handiwork: "Excellent work! I must say, teamwork and preparation allowed you to take down an enemy that would have been beyond any of you, individually. Remember that is why we live in a following: We bring many different skills and experiences into the Realms and together we are stronger."

With respect and care, Wipa instructs you on how to butcher the carcass. This process takes several hours, as it involves removing the hide and organs, carefully segmenting the skeleton, and carving out the meat. All of it must be taken back to camp.

If you participate in this activity, you gain access to the All of the Animal skill feat.

It takes you most of the day to prepare and transport the moose back to camp, and you settle in for the night after you return and hand off your meaty burdens. Pakano, who did his best to carry home the smallest share, slips away from the communal fires to nurse his pride and mild concussion.

Kala Dja steps back as the bull moose collapses to the thin soil, turning to her fellow scouts with a look of warring pride and astonishment that swiftly morphs into a beaming smile. “Did you see it!? How I struck just so and so, and brought the prey down at once?” Catching Wipa’s gaze out of the corner of her eye, the exuberant songsinger coughs and blushes shyly, sheepishly smiling at the others. “Thanks to all of your efforts, of course.” In her hand, seemingly of its own volition, her many-segmented sword retracts into its bladed form, allowing Kala to tuck it into the hide sash that holds her tunic tight. She will anoint and honor it later; there is much else to do at the moment.

As Pakano stirs, Kala looks over, feeling a sudden surge of camaraderie with, and even concern for, her old rival as well. Whatever had happened in the past, they’d now shared in a hunt—barely, in his case, but that was hardly the point—and could perhaps start anew. Kala steps closer, offering Pakano her hand to help him up. “Your boldness does you honor... but it could do you harm as well. Next time, let us fight together.” Her tone is not reproachful, but gentle; an expression of hope rather than rebuke.

Wipa’s praise elicits a proud grin from Kala Dja, who does her best to internalize the lessons taught. As the group readies to butcher and prepare the carcass, Kala settles down cross-legged, rests her hand on the bull’s brow, and whispers, “Asha.” Reaching out to the departing spirit of the creature, the young animist offers her respect for the foe’s might and her thanks for the resources he provides, along with her assurance that none of it will go to waste.

Then Kala turns her attention to Wipa’s instruction, drawing her hunting knife—such a task would dishonor her spirit-blade, and the hunting knife is better for this anyway—and doing her utmost to aid in the preparations. As they work, the young animist claims some bone and antler for later use; she may not yet possess the skill to create, but she will learn.

When it comes time to divide the load, Kala takes as heavy a burden as she can haul, if not more, silently thanking her ancestor-self’s spirit for all those mammoth-tusk pull-ups. The young huntress spends much of the journey back excitedly conversing with the others, settling the events of the story in her memory, and imagining the days to come.

The morning after the moose hunt is crisp and cool. The Broken Tusk camp bustles with activity as followers separate into discrete groups. Some start small fires to prepare food, including stewed moose. Others depart to collect spring herbs, hunt small game, or forage root vegetables nearby. Nearly everyone chatters excitedly about the upcoming Green Moon ceremony.

As you rise to prepare for your day, Grandfather Eiwa approaches you and gestures for your attention. He speak, his voice like gravel tumbling down a tall hill. "Young ones. Wipa says good things about your scout training. Said you might make good Mammoth Lords someday, ha! Let us hope so.”

He smiles broadly, and his weathered face crinkles like parched earth. “The Green Moon rises three nights from tonight, and its light will mark you as true Broken Tusks. But there are still many things that must be done if we’re to be ready for the ceremony.”

“Three things, exactly,” trills Letsua. He walks up next to the other elder and stands even taller than Eiwa. “First, the ritual site at Rockloom must be scouted, cleared, and secured before the Green Moon ceremony. Second, we need you to carry fragile ceremonial vessels and fill them with water from the Gornok River. Third, there are some tapirs nearby which we seek to add to our herd; capturing them would go a long way toward your training.”

Including travel time, it will take about a day to finish each of these tasks. Feel free to ask questions of the elders.

Impulse shrugs, briefly stopping their tinkering with a strange cube puzzle that they are carrying around, and holds it to their side in one hand, finally turning their attention to Grandfather Eiwa, proper.

"So first we have to kill a moose and now you just want us to capture tapirs? What a waste, but I'll pack some extra netting again..."

The sigh that escapes their synthetic lungs is almost strong enough to knock over a small bush, figuratively speaking, of course.

"Well anyway what can you tell me about Rockloom? Do we know anything about what's over there before we go scouting and getting our lights knocked out? And why's it so important anyway?"

Letsua is used to Impulse's abrupt manner and he responds in a tone just as busque, but without rancor: “The tapirs will alert our mammoths to potential predators at watering holes. At the sight of water, tapirs rush ahead, whereas mammoths lumber toward it slowly. If something in the water attacks the
tapirs, then we can redirect the mammoths before they panic or, worse, stampede.” He speaks soberly and matter-of-factly, adding, “Tapirs are plentiful. Mammoths are not. Broken Tusks are not. To ensure the survival of our following, we must protect the mammoths. The tapirs’ sacrifice is a noble one, and we are grateful to them.”

Rockloom is an ancient place of animal spirits,” Eiwa explains patiently. “We have observed the Green Moon from Rockloom for many generations, since before the Breaking of Tusks—since before we were who we are. Go there, and you will understand why we call it Rockloom.”

"Rockloom; Gornok River; tapirs; got it," says Iskra cheerfully. "Rockloom sounds the most potentially dangerous, so we should probably start there, yeah? Make sure we can complete everything in time."

Kala Dja is still coming to terms with the sunrise when the elders approach, although Grandfather Eiwa’s voice certainly finishes the job of waking her up. The Kellid girl (perhaps wisely) lets the morning people ask their questions first, nodding with increasing vigor as the answers come. “I too would like to start with Rockloom,” Kala ventures in response to Iskra’s proposal. “I have been looking forward to the event nearly since last year. And setting out to clear it by ourselves would permit me an opportunity to commune with the spirits there with fewer distractions. Um... though I mean no disrespect to the following, of course,” the young animist adds, looking to the elders with a smile.

Letting her gaze drift past the pair to the endless skies above, Kala silently reaches out to Asha, searching for knowledge in—and beyond—her own limited memory. What was it they cleared out of Rockloom last year? Those vessels, too... I hope they’re not too large for a one-handed huntress. And what is the river like?

Like all thaumaturges, Kala Dja has the Dubious Knowledge feat. Misinform accordingly! :D

Esoteric Lore to Recall Knowledge about Rockloom: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 7 - 2 = 7 I guess that’s Asha’s way of saying “Go and find out for yourself.”
Esoteric Lore to Recall Knowledge about the vessels: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 7 - 2 = 16
Esoteric Lore to Recall Knowledge about the Gornok River: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 7 - 2 = 20

Aware that the conversation may be moving on without her, the young animist shakes herself out of reverie, returning her attention to the others a bit hurriedly. She very nearly asks, How am I to capture tapirs or haul vessels? before firmly stopping herself. No. No! I am Kala Dja, daughter of Signe, and I will not be defeated by this injury, the ever-stubborn girl insists to herself. The following needs me. My elders and my siblings need me. I will find a way! I will overcome!

Kala Dja looks up at Grandfather Eiwa and at Letsua, then rises to her feet; squaring her shoulders and lifting her head proudly, she looks every bit the princess she considers herself to be. Her voice, when it comes, is fiercely proud. “Then, for you and for the following... we shall see these things done.” After a moment the young animist’s serious expression cracks, letting her sunny smile shine through, and nodding to each in turn, she adds, “You may rely on us, Grandfather; Letsua.”

Water Vessels: The ceremonial vessels to be filled with water are three tightly woven, brightly colored baskets of different shapes. Leather straps make carrying a basket on one’s back easy, and each is sealed with a waxy sap to ensure it doesn’t leak.

Gornok River: About an hour's walk from the camp, the Gornok River is a reliable source of clean water for consumption and ceremonial use.

"There you are, Pakano—the hardest task when we've the most strength. Smarter than marmots, and I ev—erk!"
Agn treads across Eirthgim's feet, and there's a small glint of light on retracting claws. He spins gracefully and sits on his haunches, facing the others.
"As well, I would see Rockloom first. The animal spirits and I share a small, deep history, but they are not so fond of the hearth and its gentle shackles."

"Well then?" Eirthgim bends over and rubs at the top of their foot. "You're at least acquainted with these spirits, what do you recall of their temperaments in recent seasons?"

Eirthgrim - Skill to try to remember things about Rockloom, can specify in Discord: 1d20 ⇒ 18
Agn - Skill to try to remember things about Rockloom, can specify in Discord: 1d20 ⇒ 11

Impulse nods in agreement, puts their puzzle cube back into a side pouch and pulls out one of their notebooks, flipping through it with a noticeable intensity.

"Have I read anything about Rockloom?"

Society: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

Pakano looks daggers at Eirthgim and you get the sense he particularly dislikes being given advice in front of his grandfather. Luckily, Agn defuses the situation.

You put your heads together and recall that Rockloom is a sort of celestial calendar, a semicircle of tall standing stones that the following visits every year on the spring equinox. Generally, it is a very celebratory gathering, and the spirits at the place are friendly.

Eiwa has asked you to walk the well-trodden path to Rockloom and get a firsthand look at the site in anticipation of the Green Moon.

"If anything is amiss with the stones, do what they can to right the problem. You should protect yourselves from violent fauna; otherwise, native animals have just as much a right to be at Rockloom as you!" Eiwa chuckles at the thought of the friendly animals.

"On the Night of the Green Moon," says Eiwa, "The empyreal lord Rowdrosh will guide animals away from the standing stones long enough for the Broken Tusks to perform our rites."

Pakano stays unusually quiet while Eiwa is talking, but quickly gathers his things for the trip to the monument.

You are able to make the walk with little difficulty and approach the hilly area of Rockloom around midday.

Massive, ancient stones rise like teeth from the soft earth of this ancient site, forming a rough half circle atop a grassy mound. Each stone is shaped like a different animal sacred to the Broken Tusks—cave bear, big cat, woolly mammoth, giant raven, and so on. The monoliths are chipped and worn, having stood vigil at this edge of the Gornok Plain for countless generations, yet all stand magnificent and timeless—with one exception. The last stone to the west, the Raven Stone, is broken off at the midpoint, its upper half missing.

Upon investigation, Impulse finds that the Raven Stone cleaved cleanly and recently.

They spot footprints embedded deep in the soft earth nearby.

Impulse stands staring at the monument, assessing its every feature. "Huh. Something has tampered with the sacred monument. And from the looks of this deliberately, too. What an insult!"

Their hands briefly appear to ball into fists as they look around for any signs of a culprit, or any indication the missing portion could have been put nearby.

Survival: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

"Ooh I'll teach you a lesson for a stealing a sacred monument alright..." They say as they immediately pull out their not yet buzzing axe and run off following the tracks, only to let out a slightly frustrated scream when the tracks inexplicably end. Then they immediately turn their attention to the boulder instead.

Iskra is pissed. "Who would- why w- GRAAAH!" she sputters and kicks an errant rock, sending it flying. Seeing Impulse set off, she mounts up on Tomi to follow along, lance at a low ready. "Whoever did this is in for a world of hurt."

Upon reaching Impulse, Iskra gives the large boulder the size of a small boulder a thorough inspection...

Iskra Oski's Perception (E): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Impulse and Iskra charge toward the boulder that sits at the base of the tree-covered hill. A surprising number of ravens caw from the trees around the hill’s base. The irritable, and territorial, birds swoop down en masse at the intruders.

The swarm of birds covers Impulse, pecking away!
Piercing: 1d8 ⇒ 2
Piercing: 1d8 ⇒ 1

Impulse: 2 Basic Reflex saves, DC 20

~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Raven Swarm
Eirthgrim
Kala Dja
Impulse
Iskra
--Tomi

Map

From the ring of stones, Pakano almost falls over, laughing at the spectacle.

Other people can start a bit closer. Like, a Stride away is fine.

Ref: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Ref: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

After taking several pecks directly to the face, Impulse's patience runs out and they spin a small insulated ring on the grip of their axe, releasing an intense burst of electrical energy, that fires off with a cacophonous CRACK.

Explode!!! Electric Damage, DC 17 basic Reflex: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 1) = 2
Unstable flat check vs DC 17: 1d20 ⇒ 9

"Well... note to self, next time change to a completely fresh μπαταρία before reversing the polarities again." The warning light on the top of the axe's handle starts to flash in the corner of their peripheral vision.

Rather than make a cunning retreat, the frustrated inventor just tries to see if the last sliver of power left can still make the axe sing.

Overdrive vs DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

"Well at least that still works."

Reflex: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

Lightning crackles through the flock, knocking several birds out of the air.

The sudden convergence of ravens swarming around Impulse takes Iskra aback; even Tomi looks a bit startled, though her avian face remains difficult to read as always. Wen Impulse's axe explodes with brilliant arcs of electricity, flash-frying corvids left and right, the resultant flash momentarily sends bright spots cascading across Iskra's eyes. As soon as her vision clears, she takes a moment to study her prey, then nudges Tomi into action.

The terror bird unleashes a terrible "SCRAWWWK!" and begins pecking at the raven swarm, while Iskra attempts to skewer some birds with her lance.

Hunt Prey; Command Animal; Tomi Supports (if Iskra's lance attack hits and deals damage, the raven swarm is flat-footed); Iskra makes a melee Strike with her war lance; Tomi attacks using her beak

Iskra Oski's war lance attack (T): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Iskra Oski's war lance damage (P): 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Tomi's beak attack (T): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Tomi's beak damage (P): 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Alas, Iskra and Tomi seem to have severe trouble meaningfully connecting with the swift-flying birds. "Stop flying around and fight with some self-respect, you damn..." huffs the irritated ranger.

All the way to Rockloom, Kala Dja had thought of nothing but communion with the spirits there. And yet, upon seeing the desecration of the sacral site, meditation is the last thing on her mind. While the others rush forward, the young animist wanders as if in a daze, her gaze never leaving the shorn menhir. Only when Impulse draws her attention to the footprints does she make an attempt to trace them, drawing her spirit-blade out of reflex more than anything.

Survival: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Unable to concentrate on the tracks, she merely trails along a dozen feet or so behind her incensed siblings. The raucous cawing shakes her out of her reverie, though. Oh no. The spirits really are angry. Wishing she had some way to communicate with the ravens, Kala Dja reluctantly approaches, holding her spirit-blade close and whispering, “Asha.” The blade pulses, segments flexing as its awareness interlaces with her own. Murmuring a prayer to the gods, Kala reaches out to Asha, searching for a way to defeat the incensed raven-spirits.

Esoteric Lore to Exploit Vulnerability: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

But no answer is forthcoming. It isn’t my fault! the young animist wants to cry. Show me how to make it right! Her anguish avails her nothing. Even the shadows of Asha, who as often mislead as guide true, are silent. Blinking back tears from her eyes, Kala Dja lashes out with her serpent-souled blade.

Strike: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Stride, critically fail to Exploit Vulnerability, fail to Strike. Kala is flat-footed until she starts her next turn.

Iskra and Kala Dja attempt to know the corvids from the air, but the birds are too nimble for these larger predators to land a strike.

Eirthgrim utters a word of power and gestures with their staff and more lightning splits the sky. Meanwhile, Agn lopes up to the birds and leaps into their midst, trying to grab some out of the air.

◆◆Act Together (Eirthgrim: Cast electirc arc; Agn: Stride), ◆Strike
electric arc: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
jaws: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 for fire: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Reflex: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31

The birds swoop around the lightning, but Agn grabs several in his fiery jaws.

The swarm shifts away from Impulse and Agn, diving and attacking Iskra and Tomi. They go for the eyes!

piercing: 1d8 ⇒ 1
piercing: 1d8 ⇒ 4

2x DC 20 Basic Reflex saves for Iskra and Tomi

~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Raven Swarm (-12)
Eirthgrim
Kala Dja
Impulse
Iskra (2x Reflex)
--Tomi (2x Reflex)

Map

Kala is still on the edge of tears when the sound of laughter from the hill behind them finally registers. In an instant the anguish is washed away, replaced by hot and childish anger. Eyes flashing, the Kellid girl spins about, barely noticing the sudden tang of ozone on the air—though that could just be Impulse’s electrical outburst—and the distortion of sound slowing as she draws a deep breath.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Okay, now we Hero Point.
Intimidate: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
[sob]

“Pakano! Get down here right now and do your part! Or so help me gods and spirits I am going to feed you to Agn one limb at... a...”

Kala Dja trails off mid-bully at the sound of her voice amplified a hundredfold. What in the Realm was that!? T-that was louder than a mammoth’s clarion. How...? The young animist stands in stunned silence for a moment before a yelp from Iskra drags her attention back to ongoing matters. Resolving to ask Argakoa and Nakta about it when she returns to the camp, the young animist returns her attention to the swarming ravens, clearing her mind and opening herself to Asha again.

Esoteric Lore to Exploit Vulnerability: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26 choosing mortal weakness, in case it’s not obvious. Also, 26 to Recall further Knowledge.

This time everything snaps into perfect clarity. Kala Dja sees not only the ravens, but also the spirit that binds them, all the secrets they hold, all in an instant. It is awe-inspiring, in its way, and Kala finds herself marveling at the beautiful synchronicity of Asha. Is this what I have been looking for all this time? With her heart full of reverence for the guidance of Rockloom’s spirits, the young animist reaches into her sash, plucking out a feather blessed by Nakta upon the now-sundered Raven Stone and tucking it between her fingers and the blade’s serpentscale grip.

Slowly starting to grin in exultation at the favor shown by the ancestral spirits of Rockloom—while also keeping an eye out over her shoulder for the laziest scout in the following—the exuberant girl reaches out to the swarming birds, trying to project calm and serenity as she steps closer.

Strike attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9 This never happened.
Nature: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Impulse looks over at the young Kala Dja trying to get her bearings together. "You know what they say. Lightning never strikes in the same place twice! By which I mean... I wish I could but it's out of charge, that reverse of polarity took everything out of it, We're lucky it even has enough left to keep itself running."

"That said though I appreciate you insight because, I do still have some tricks left..." For a moment it almost seems like they give a smirk, but it's sudden and fleeting, before their expression glosses over again, focused on their innovation in hand.

Impulse, quickly lowers down the axe from the readied position, places one hand on the very top of it and pulls the capped section up, extending it upward, while the blade itself slides down out of position. From this angle, it becomes clear that the capped top of the terrifying contraption can double as a heavily weighted mace.

Then they rush in and around Iskra to unleash its wrath on the still vicious ravens.

Innovation Greataxe (Mace head adapted): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Bludgeoning Damage, OD: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Impulse grits their teeth. "Okay maybe I was wrong. Maybe it doesn't have enough power to even stay on..."

"Ack! BIRDS!" Iskra cries, fending off raven pecks to the best of her ability. Tomi squawks and flails her vestigial wings at the unceasing onslaught.

Iskra Oski's Reflex (T): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Tomi's Reflex (T): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Blood streaming down their faces, Iskra and Tomi find the swarm overwhelming, but still carry on with the plan. "I was born to raise birds. I spent my youth tending to birds. I ride the most terrifying bird the Realm has known! I! Will! Not! Fall! To! BIRDS!"

Command Animal; Tomi Supports; Iskra draws a main gauche in her off hand; Twin Takedown

Flailing blindly, Iskra spurs Tomi to let out another piercing screech, draws a main gauche, and begins a vicious flurry of slices and jabs with her weapons.

Iskra Oski's flat check 1 (blindness) (T): 1d20 ⇒ 2
Iskra Oski's flat check 2 (blindness) (T): 1d20 ⇒ 13

Hoping her main gauche connects, Iskra puts her all into it...

Iskra Oski's main gauche attack (T): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Iskra Oski's main gauche damage (P, Versatile S) : 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

If 22 hits and 6 deals damage to the swarm, the swarm is flat-footed until the start of Iskra's next turn.

Iskra Blindness: 1d4 ⇒ 2
Tomi Blindness: 1d4 ⇒ 2

Kala Dja attempts to rally Pakano to the fight and to shoo the birds away--neither attempt is very effective!

"Oh, you need my help? Last time I tried to help you, you almost pushed me off a cliff!" Pakano draws one of his throwing spears and makes a desultory toss toward the birds.
spear: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22 for piercing: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

The spear skewers a bird and lands suspiciously close to Kala Dja.

Eirthgrim draws the power of the earth up into Agn and the companion steps up and savagely attacks the swarm.
◆Act Together (Eirthgrim: boost eidolon, Agn: Step); ◆Strike, ◆Strike

jaws: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25 for fire: 1d8 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 4 + 2 = 10
jaws: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15 for fire: 1d8 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 4 + 2 = 10

The swarm is close to flying apart, but it flutters over Kala Dja and Agn and pecks away.
piercing: 1d8 ⇒ 1
piercing: 1d8 ⇒ 3

Reflex (Agn): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Reflex (Agn): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Blindness (Agn): 1d4 ⇒ 2

2x DC 20 Basic Reflex saves for Kala Dja. Blinded on a crit failure

~+~Combat Round 3~+~
Raven Swarm (-22, flat-footed)
Eirthgrim (-5, blind 1/2)
Kala Dja (2x Reflex saves)
Impulse
Iskra (-2, blind 2/2)
--Tomi (8, blind 2/2)

Map