Sylva first uses her limited medical knowledge to confirm the patchwork man is indeed dead. If he isn’t, she will need to do something about that. The way that half-elf rode off bleeding out still haunts her. Avenging the woman helps a little… but she also recalls the promise she made to herself when she gave up her blades. She remembers the centaur woman who enjoyed killing.
None of these thoughts will stop her from slitting this man’s throat while he’s down. But if he’s already dead, she won’t damage the corpse. Killing him brings no pleasure to her. Knowing he won’t send another rider away bleeding, desperately seeking help as their life fades… that makes her feel good.
“I say we strip this vile blade for its rune and rid ourselves of it.”
She then tends to the wounded.
"Agreed," Ravenna says, slinging her jezail across her back. "Completely different kind of monster, this time..."
When Ravenna calls the slain man a “monster,” Sylva looks back at him—or rather, at the patchwork skin of other people that mask his true form.
She doesn’t care what the face underneath looks like. It’s the half-elf woman whose face matters. Whose life mattered.
“Yeah… a monster.” She cleanses Sir Bat’s puncture wound, bloodying her own hands in the process. “If there’s a shrine of Shelyn or Desna, I want to stop there. It can wait until our business is finished. But if we happen to pass one, I’ll need a moment.”
She doesn’t elaborate. She stitches Sir Bat’s wound; her needlework, an art form.
Once you are ready, you proceed down the other passage. This steep tunnel doubles back on itself and descends 20 feet from west to east. At the bottom of the tunnel is a sturdy wooden door. It is locked, but the key you found on the patchwork man unlocks it.
Beyond is a large room filled with hanging animal skins. Past that, the walls in the northwestern corner of this otherwise earthen den have been reinforced with stone masonry. Four figures huddle together in the corner of the cell.
When they notice you, one of the people, a female gnome, stands and calls out. “Help!” she rasps. “Please, free us!”
Sylva only hesitates a moment—seeking traps!
Finding none, she rushes to the cell and opens it!
Fortunately, there are no traps. You unlock the cell with the key and release the grateful prisoners. "Thank you," the gnome says. "I am Zeah, the leader of this group. We're part of the Reclaimers, adventurers dedicated to healing the Sarkoris Scar and rooting out any lingering demons.
"We thought this well was abandoned and entered it for shelter. That sadistic skinner and his grotesque beetles were on us in seconds. Now he’s holding us prisoner!" She shudders. "We started with six, but he fed Dreikar to his pet... thing, which multiplied from one to two. The next time it was time for ‘feeding,’ Eijanna managed to escape, but she was chased by whatever Dreikar turned into, and I don’t know what happened to her.
"The skinner was about to take one of us for 'feeding' again when there was a loud banging noise and he ran off. I assume that was you? If so, you likely saved one of our lives."
Sylva starts to tear up upon hearing the name. “Eijanna saved you.” She takes a moment. “She was a Desnan half-elf, right? I’m so sorry, Zeah… we were too late to save her. Her horse carried her to us, and we followed her trail.” She does not say ‘of blood.’ “I believe her intent was to find help for you. I’m glad we alerted her killer so he couldn’t take another life.”
She treats her own name as an afterthought, only giving it because it’s what you do when another has introduced herself. “I’m Sylva, by the way… Belle.”
And come to think of it, there was one ‘thing,’ not two, when they failed to save Eijanna.
“And wait… a pet?”
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Zeah nods. "Yes, a giant plant with a huge, toothy maw! It's big and green and--"
"--and it's right behind you!" Zeah says, finishing with a shriek! You turn, too late, to see the stealthy plant monster has crept up on you from the adjoining cavern! It's another moonflower like you fought outside the forest, this one larger and unwounded. Its body releases a bright pulse of blinding light as it closes the distance to you!
Success: The creature is unaffected.
Failure: The creature is dazzled for 1d4 rounds.
Critical Failure: The creature is blinded for 1d4 rounds.
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Nox wants to speak to Sylva but before he gets any chance to she is already facing more threats and taking off into gods knows what territory, ignoring his earlier comments about her being brashly forward.
He lets out a chuff as she rushes forward without talking to the group about her obviously erratic behavior in response to the patch man. And he finds little room for words until she finally pauses to ask about the pet.
"Did you happen to get any look at this creature? A decription may help us in our pending battle against it. And we've little time to waste if it's hungry it may try to find it's own me-"
The sprite is cut off as the plant flashbangs the room leaving him and his mount dazed.
Sylva turns to the creature, pointing the looted war razor at it!
“Sir Bat, let’s end this thing.”
That horrid thing will surely make Sylva pay dearly for that—but in the moment, she feels quite satisfied.
Shielding her eyes from the flash, Ravenna fires off a pair of flaming bullets, retreating as she reloads.
Sir Batman wakes up in time to Raise his Shield, Stride into Flank and Demoralize the Plant!
Batman demoralizes the plant monster as he moves in behind it. Ravenna hits with both of her shots, the burning bullets exploiting the monster's weakness. Sylva moves in and starts hacking with her sword, landing a critical hit! The monster snaps back at her, but the acrobatic sprite dodges away!
Sylva keeps hacking away!
“Slashing and burning seems to work!”
"Just like the last one!" Ravenna shouts, loading and firing another blazing bullet.
Sir Batman Raises his Shield and then he begins tap, tap, tapping on the Plant's window door!
Tap, tapping tapping!
Though the moonflower ignores Nox's spell, the rest of you land several good hits. With the final slice from Sylva, the creature crumples to the ground, rapidly wilting! Zeah and the other Reclaimers sigh with relief. "Whew! Thank Desna!" the gnome exhales. "We're getting out of here We'll wait for you on the surface!" The Reclaimers make haste toward the exit, eager to escape the dank burrow.
When you are ready to explore the final cave where the moonflower came rom, you see that the ground in this corner of the burrow slopes down steeply, like the edge of a crater. In the center of the depression, a skull-sized rock lies half-buried in the hard clay soil. Above, the packed dirt ceiling is much loamier than elsewhere and lacks roots that might give it structure.
The meteorite itself is little more than a melon-shaped hunk of unremarkable space rock. But sprouting out the top of the meteorite is a single sprig of primeval mistletoe.
Sylva cautiously approaches the strange rock and just stares at the beautiful plant protruding from it.
Did this rock create that horrid monster?
She may or may not have learned about this particular plant, and probably she’s heard that meteorites are a thing.
But she’s too overwhelmed with emotion—the horror of Eijanna’s death, the bittersweet joy of saving four of her friends, and the feeling that passed through her when she killed him and it…
She takes a step back from the plant, eyes locked on the strange thing. “What should we do with this?”
Sir Batman stomps on the fallen plant!
Vegatables are good for you, my bronze-colored arse!
The Champion of Mazludeh then LoHs folks every 10 minutes, while further explaining why Vegatables suck.
Blue eyes staring Dumbledore at the rock, Sir Batman turns to Nox.
Now what?
Sylva watches Sir Batman stomp the weird little plant. If it can grow into a big people eater, then maybe he should.
But…
Sylva stands next to Sir Bat, not exactly stopping him, nor condemning, nor condoning…
“The worst vegetables are rotten tomatoes. I was hit with one while performing. And it was a full sized tomato too, literally bigger than my entire body. It hit the stool and splattered all over me, but still… you’d think a human would at least bring rotten cherry tomatoes for a sprite act.”
She then says in a lighter tone, “You should try a cherry tomato, Sir Bat. They come in red, orange, yellow, off-white, purple… and they’re delicious! Maybe someday we can cut one in half, and you can try it. It’s a beautiful vegetable. It only sucks if someone throws it at you, and even then, it’s the person who sucks.”
Sir Batman nods in agreement to Sylva's Sage suggestions supporting some superior sound salesperson spokesperson solicitation.
Rotten Green Tomatoes gave that only 48%...
She replies, “Oh, don’t I wish only 48% of the rotten tomato hit me. I’m pretty sure it was 51 or more.” She then gives Sir Bat a smile. “I think we should head back up to Sakuachi and Zeah.”
On the way out, she will not forget to collect the coins that Patchwork Man used to distract Sir Bat. But before she goes anywhere, she plucks the mistletoe from the meteorite!
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Nox rubs his eyes for several moments after the fight to finish getting his sight back fully and upon exploring the rest of the cave and finding the plant growing from the meteor he can't help but be a little angry.
With a sigh he slaps the mistletoe out of Sylva's hand, "You don't even know what that is, it could be dangerous just standing near it let alone picking it up! Stop being reckless and go to the others. I need to think and you need to figure yourself out."
He stands abstinently till the others leave giving small grumbles of frustration here and there at the reckless abandon a certain someone has displayed recently. As well as the disrespect for living beings, even ones that were evil-doers.
He begins his own work on figuring out exactly what this plant and rock is and where they may have come from.
Sylva stares at the mistletoe on the ground. She didn’t expect to get her hand slapped.
“I threw… a cup,” she starts. She takes a breath. Minds her tone. Nox is an elder. “I was frustrated because we tripped an alarm, yet the killer didn’t show himself. I wondered if he wasn’t home, if we followed poor Eijanna’s blood here for nothing. So yeah, I threw a cup.
“That was one moment, Nox. Then we found the killer, killed him, and saved four lives—which would’ve been three if not for what you’re calling ‘recklessness.’”
She leaves it at that and heads toward the exit, stopping only to add, “And thanks for the healing spells.” She doesn’t look back or linger. She keeps walking.
Back in the Needleglens, Zeah and the other Reclaimers have met up with Sakuachi and her companions. Safe from danger, the gnome makes proper introductions with the party. She explains she and her fellow Reclaimers were in the area investigating the fallen star, like you. In turn, Sakuachi shares her own reason for coming to the Sarkoris Scar—to find a “living god.”
Zeah smiles in response. “Sarkoris has a proud tradition of calling down gods. The overgrown vegetable in that murderer’s burrow was definitely no god—that I can assure you—but you haven’t traveled all this way for naught. Tell me, what do you know of the history of god calling?”
The question is rhetorical. Zeah explains the following points in the course of the rest of the conversation.
God Calling: Many people of Old Sarkoris were animists who venerated religious leaders called god callers. These god callers summoned and communed with powerful manifestations of nature which they called gods. Sakuachi might be able to recruit a “living god” by taking up the mantle of this ancient tradition and becoming a god caller. If there’s anywhere such a feat is possible, it’s the ruins of Domora to the west.
Domora: Though Sarkorians have practiced various god calling customs since antiquity, many regard the city of Domora as the place where god calling’s modern incarnation took root. The history of Domora is legendary. Over 500 years ago, a Sarkorian man named Domora Hume summoned a powerful entity from the Plane of Water to protect his people from violent raiders. Domora founded a city on the spot where the god manifested, and his followers and descendants worshipped the god, named Dyzad, for generations.
Present State: Since the Worldwound opened and destroyed Sarkoris, the city of Domora has been in ruins. Even now, it’s a shattered place overrun with demonic stragglers. “Old faiths never really die, though,” Zeah says with a grin. “Dyzad—or other gods like her—no doubt remain buried somewhere beneath the city’s wreckage.”
Zeah explains that Domora is about 150 miles from your current location in a northwesterly direction. As thanks for the rescue, the Reclaimers offer to take Sakuachi and the rest of you to Domora as soon as the next morning. It should take about 8 days to reach the ruined city.
They also give you a few bits of treasure: a ring of energy resistance (acid) and a scroll of air walk.
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Nox lets Sylva say her part and allows her to leave. Speaking mostly to himself after she's gone.
"Why can't you see it's far more than the cup that you've done."
With a weary sigh he goes back to trying to decipher the mistletoe and the stone. After determining it was indeed not harmful he brought it with him back to the surface.
"I know none of us wish to linger here longer than we must. But in order to protect ourselves from the elements, perhaps we utilize the shelter one last time before we journey forward. We have already been on the road for a long time and a roof would be wonderful for at least one night."
Sylva takes in the conversation silently. When Nox finally speaks of sleep, she agrees, “We should sleep where it’s safest.” She doesn’t push for sleeping in the well, in case the Reclaimers have a magical tent… or a regular tent, and prefer that despite it being safer underground.
She isn’t sure why Nox is so upset with her, so she avoids talking about Eijanna openly. Maybe the mention of their dead friend would upset the Reclaimers as well. She asks their leader for a word in private.
“I could take you to where we laid her,” she finally says. “Our big friend got her off that horse. We left her on the ground—respectfully as we could, given that we wasted no time following her trail.
“She still has her belongings on her. I thought of taking her Desnan symbol—not to keep, but to leave at a Desnan shrine. Or I’d have given it to you if I had it. I didn’t th…” Not Thinking is why she’s dead. “…didn’t expect I’d meet anyone who knew her. I didn’t think I’d ever know her name.”
She wants to thank Zeah for telling her, but what comes out is, “I’m so sorry we failed Eijanna.”
She already said sorry in the cell, but apologized for it being ‘too late to save her.’ An apology with it’s-not-my-fault built into it is insincere. And deceptive. Sylva knows all about deception, and she isn’t about to use her silver tongue to make herself look like some sort of hero.
She catches herself reiterating “I truly am sorry, Zeah,” and stops talking before she says what she’s really thinking: ‘it’s my fault your friend is dead.’
Sir Batman grimacing at the mention of 150 miles of walking.Maybe we will meet several bands of demons, cultists and creepy things while we walk at least. Is the road yellow? Perhapsmade of bricks?
The bronze-colored bat-shaped sprite prepares for another long trip.
How many miles do we have saved? Perhaps we consider trading them in?
The Champion of Mazludeh shakes hands at the collection of gifted, accolades and information.
Sylva that ring would look good on you.
***
Sakuachi eagerly accepts the Reclaimers’ offer, quickly getting over her disappointment at what came of the meteorite. She admits that sometimes her visions aren’t precise, but that they “always point in the right direction.” Her companions defer to Sakuachi’s wishes, though they’re clearly relieved to join the Reclaimers’ company. The Reclaimers aren’t just familiar with the terrain—they’ve dedicated their lives to studying the Sarkoris Scar and are experts in all aspects of the region.
After a peaceful night’s rest, your new friends start leading the way to Domora. The journey itself is uneventful. Along the way, you begin to feel stronger and more confident in your abilities...
***
Chapter 4: Ruins of Domora
After a week's travel, you near your destination. Ahead, ruined stone monoliths and crumbling wooden structures loom over the dry lakebed that was Hume’s Pool. The winter sun beats down on the cracked soil but does little to warm it. The earth is muddy from melted snowfall, and ancient skeletons of fish poke out here and there. Somehow, the rotting smell of a low tide still wafts through the air.
The Reclaimers set up a base camp behind a cracked, chalky mound out of sight of the broken road leading toward the city. Zeah explains that she and her companions have their own agenda in the area, so they won’t be accompanying you any further. All the same, she says, you're welcome to share the Reclaimers’ camp as a home base between excursions.
Ravenna takes in a deep breath, then immediately grimaces from the smell. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she turns to Zeah, hand extended.
"Thank you for all you've done for us, Zeah. Stay safe, and hopefully we'll see each other again soon."
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Zeah’s words have lifted her spirits. Knowing Eijanna was dead on arrival is still tragic… but the pain of wondering whether the plant monster delayed her from saving a life is gone. And if her friends can forgive me, there’s no sense in beating myself up.
After hours of silent contemplation, she realizes that a death like that isn’t something you just ‘get over.’ Desna smiles… so how does Shelyn deal with this? The answer is obvious—through her art. She takes her banjo off her back in an otherwise quiet moment, and says mostly to the Reclaimers, “This is for Eijanna.”
She begins to play an instrumental…
…the strumming is rapid, intense. It’s a sound of excitement, an upbeat tune, and probably Sylva’s first composition in which the banjo is the appropriate instrument! Gunslingers on horseback could ride to this!
But the chords are intermittently odd—clearly not mistakes on Sylva’s part—she imagines the pain and fear Eijanna suffered as she rode, and this combined with the rhythm reflects the urgency of the ‘escape.’
The bridge is slower, single notes plucked as Sylva relives that moment of the dead half elf being laid in the snow—only the tune is not an expression of her own regret, but of the peace Eijanna’s spirit may have felt in the moment. Zeah said she was spared of being mutated into a killer plant, but Sylva believes that Eijanna rests in peace because her surviving friends were rescued.
And the tune builds up to from suspense to excitement, anger to hope, sorrow to joy…!
Sylva is happy to simply follow Ravenna’s lead with the goodbyes, adding a “Take care” to the Reclaimers, and just to Zeah, a simple “thanks again” for the kind words.
She takes a look around at the muddiness, and skeletons of fish that are about as big as a sprite. Shelyn says to find the beauty in everything, but… I’m gonna hafta try really hard in a place like this!
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Your first mission in Domora is to explore the city’s ruins. “The god I’m seeking might be anywhere,” Sakuachi notes. “Let’s not leave any stone unturned.”
Zeah suggests four locations for you to investigate: a field of battle where Domora’s warriors made their last stand against demonic invaders; the city’s largest repository of knowledge, the Holobrim Library; a large temple-mausoleum called the Hall of Gods; and Domora Hume’s tower, where generations learned the secrets of god calling.
INVESTIGATE DOMORA (CONCENTRATE, EXPLORATION)
Over the course of the day, you sift through ruins, study relics, or comb through archives in order to learn about Domora. Attempt a skill check to determine how many Investigation Points (IP) your efforts yield. Which skills you can use and the DC for it depend on the site you visit.
Critical Success: You gain 2 IP.
Success: You gain 1 IP.
Critical Failure: You make a false discovery and lose 1 IP.
***
Field of Battle
This windswept battlefield is an obvious site, not far from the Reclaimers’ camp. For many years, Mendevian crusaders tried to retake Domora to establish a base of operations west of the Worldwound, but each attempt was beaten back by the demons occupying the city. The majority of these battles took place in these fields.
Investigation Checks: DC 18 Warfare Lore; DC 23 Athletics or Survival; DC 25 Perception
Holibrim Library
Located near the northern edge of Domora, this two-story room is the only extant area of what was once a much larger library. A staircase connects the ruin’s western and eastern halves. The eastern section is 10 feet higher than the west and features a railing where visitors could look out over the lower stacks.
Investigation Checks: DC 18 Academia or Library Lore; DC 23 Nature or Occultism; DC 25 Perception
Hall of Gods
For many Domorans, the Hall of Gods was the center of spiritual life. Part temple, part crypt, this was a place where citizens could pay homage to the city’s large pantheon, learn about past Domoran deities and god callers, and honor the spirits of departed ancestors.
Investigation Checks: DC 21 Genealogy Lore; DC 23 Nature, Occultism, or Religion; DC 25 Perception
Domora's Tower
Though badly damaged, the tower remains standing after all these years. A winding stone staircase circles the tower’s interior and connects its five stories. Each story is one large, open room.
Investigation Checks: DC 21 Arcana or Architecture Lore; DC 23 Occultism or Religion; DC 25 Perception
Sylva says to the others, “The Hall of Gods suits me.”
She doesn’t mention her hope to meet a Shelynite, for fear Nox will think she’s distracted. The truth is, she doesn’t need to do much to attract a Shelynite who wants to talk to another of the same faith. She simply applies the magic of her dweomerweave robe.
Her outfit for the temple: a white chiton adorned with seven sashes, each of a different color. Even if she doesn’t meet another of her faith, she believes she should wear the seven colors in a place called the Hall of Gods.
That is more or less the limit of her religious knowledge. As a fey, she has an innate connection to Nature, and her aquatic eyes are sharp…
…and as a result, her efforts prove quite fruitful!
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During the trip something about Nox just seems off, he's even quieter than usual and during very long portions of the trip he just seems in a daze upon Hildy's saddle. But other than his detached nature he doesn't seem any less healthy than when they left the hovel in the meteor pit.
His reigning silence and dazed state of being continue much into their first foray into the town, until it comes to breaking up the group for tasks involving searching for information. He decides to go along with Sylva to the hall of the gods, perhaps they'd have records on the bloodlines that were particularly well versed in communing with the gods. Something that ran deep in the veins of certain families making them particularly adept at the task and where their ossuaries might have existed.
He doesn't seem to pay her any mind, but beneath the beetle helm it's difficult even with her gaze to tell if he's still upset at her or just not in the mood for conversation.
"The blood.. the blood.. something in.. in... the.... blood." He mutters as he traverses through the holy halls seeming to slip in and out of his strange fugue state.
Sylva can’t help but notice that, for all his criticisms of her behavior, Nox is acting quite strangely. She doesn’t allow herself to be distracted… and maybe even works extra hard just to avoid being accused of slacking, since at the end of the day, it seems she’s compiled twice as much information as the elder.
And, because he is an elder, Sylva pretends not to notice. She tries to avoid coming of as disrespectful even accidentally, if she can.
“How are you holding up?” she asks, concerned in part by his three-peating of the word ‘blood.’
Ravenna spends most of their trip across the wastes putting together a protective charm, one taught to her by her long last mother.
Once they reach Domora itself, she finds herself drawn to the Tower and its secrets. She happily spends a day exploring each of its floors.
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Sylva can’t help but notice that, for all his criticisms of her behavior, Nox is acting quite strangely. She doesn’t allow herself to be distracted… and maybe even works extra hard just to avoid being accused of slacking, since at the end of the day, it seems she’s compiled twice as much information as the elder.
And, because he is an elder, Sylva pretends not to notice. She tries to avoid coming of as disrespectful even accidentally, if she can.
“How are you holding up?” she asks, concerned in part by his three-peating of the word ‘blood.’
Nox seems to snap to as Sylva approaches and asks him about something, "Hmm? Oh I'm.. fine, just tired." There is a long pause from him, despite not being able to reach up under his helmet or really see his eyes you get the impression he's having an extra long blink.
"I managed to determine some information about the bloodline of those who summoned these gods. I'm not sure if it'll be useful to our search, but maybe. Maybe it'll help somehow." Nox falls silent again for a bit, mostly waiting to see if Sylva has other questions.
He does eventually attempt to deflect her attempts to worry about him like some aging mortal. "I need you to know... it was more than the cup. Back at the den, it was your entire attitude, your willingness to just forgo any attempt at diplomacy. That man and his flower may not have been good people, but that doesn't mean they can't seek redemption eventually. Now.. i'm not sure exactly how one would go about seeking redemption for what had been done, but I'm also no expert on the matter either."
Sylva is relieved that Nox wants to discuss what’s eating him. But she feels no remorse about killing the patchwork man.
“Nox… Eijanna’s warm corpse was delivered to us by her spooked horse. Her killer wore a mask made of the flesh of his victims. And after we killed him, we learned he was having his prisoners eaten by that plant.
“Sparing his life would have made us accomplices to every one of his future murders.” She gives Nox a serious look. “I mean no disrespect, but I’m more worried about your attitude than my own. Eijanna’s death was the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And you trivialized it, like it’s part of an adventure or something.
“How could you be so hardened over her, and… not get why I’m not? Is this a Guy Thing or something?”
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Nox falls silent and stares off into the distance.
"We are on an adventure. We've been in harrowing situations since the beginning, before that I..." The older sprite breaths in and steels himself for what is to come. "I was happy. I was different than I am now. I had love and everything I ever needed in life Sylva."
His shoulders stiffen with resolve, "I don't feel for more loss, because I don't honestly believe I can anymore. Do you know what it's like?" The elder sprite looks at her, "To never feel the sun shining on your skin again? To begin to forget their face, their smell, their touch? To be burdened with the image of the face of your true love forever twisted by a slow painful wasteful death burned into your mind?"
The sprite continues on growing ever more exasperated, the very air around him becoming cold, and alien. "Do you know what it's like to hold the love of your life as she bleeds out in your arms? To go on through your long life after you've lost everything? Only for some strange magics to give it back for a too short fleeting moment. Then pull you along some string to kill and defend yourself against abominations, godlings, aliens, mutant plants, demons, devils, ghosts, through freezing climates, and hellish landscapes. To watch death after death after death become more and more meaningless, to feel it less each time until finally you just don't. To watch those who you still have some flickers of care for fall into a different kind of despair while you feel absolutely powerless to carry their burden? To watch a fellow sprite lose touch with what made her good because she saw an evil to great to ignore and can now not only not forgive herself, but lament everyone, even those they never even interacted with as if they were that same love that you lost? All in the hopes that at the end of the tunnel you'll feel that sunshine, you'll smell their sweet hair, you'll hold her in your arms one last time?"
Nox shakes upon his saddle and the very air near him feels thick like tar. "All the while you develop strange magic that no one understands. Understand things that don't make sense to a mortal mind, see the slow unwinding entropy of the universe with a level of clarity not even spoken of in the deepest texts? I AM hurt, and I am struggling to find a way to prevent that same hurt from happening to you. I am telling you not to let every single person be an Eijanna. If you let them all hurt you like that, especially the ones you don't know you'll break into a million pieces and I can't handle that." He stares at her clipping off his little rant expecting her to have a reply.
Sylva wants to hop onto Hilda’s saddle and give Nox a hug.
“That… that must have been…” ‘Awful’ is not nearly a strong enough word. Any word would be an understatement. Any soliloquy would be an understatement. “I can’t even imagine it. I mean…” Being a Shelynite, a creative, of course she can imagine it. It’s how she empathized for a stranger—imagining Eijanna’s final moments, bleeding out on that horse. The pain. The fear. The loneliness. She died alone, not in the arms of a loved one. And when Sylva touched her, to see if it wasn’t too late…
None of this is close to what Nox felt.
“I mean,” she continues, “I’m so sorry you lost your loved one. And that Missing Moment, it must have been as if you were being taunted by some cosmic entity.”
And as for his harsh criticism… she admits he’s partially correct. “I have forgiven myself. It’s why I composed that song for Eijanna. But your concern isn’t off. I took Zeah to her body, and while we were there, Zeah forgave me. Or more accurately, she told me I didn’t fail her friend. So there’s no sense in punishing myself.
“I do appreciate your concern, Nox. Just… if you think I’m ‘good,’ it’s empathy you’re seeing. It’s why I went out of my way to get those fey minions to flee and talk down the idiots who left Innumma in her underwear. But it’s also why I broke stealth when I saw a man being tortured and why I wanted to find Eijanna’s killer—and why those idiots weren’t spared unconditionally. Innumma got all of her belongings back.
“It’s not that I fail to see villains as people. It’s that I can’t ignore their victims. Being hurt by Eijanna isn’t something you can save me from.” She doesn’t want to lecture the elder sprite, or come off as doing that. “But knowing you want to, that you care enough… that means a lot to me. Especially knowing what loss you’ve been through, and relived in that Missing Moment.”
Sir Batman seems to be lazily, idly wondering about....
Over the course of the day, you sift through ruins, study relics, or comb through archives in order to learn about Domora. Attempt a skill check to determine how many Investigation Points (IP) your efforts yield. Which skills you can use and the DC for it depend on the site you visit.
Critical Success: You gain 2 IP.
Success: You gain 1 IP.
Critical Failure: You make a false discovery and lose 1 IP.
***
This windswept battlefield is an obvious site, not far from the Reclaimers’ camp. For many years, Mendevian crusaders tried to retake Domora to establish a base of operations west of the Worldwound, but each attempt was beaten back by the demons occupying the city. The majority of these battles took place in these fields.
Investigation Checks: DC 18 Warfare Lore; DC 23 Athletics or Survival; DC 25 Perception
Batman spends his time exploring the battlefield near the camp. The armaments and remains scattered about all vary considerably in age. Clearly, there was more than just one battle here—there were dozens over many years. Iron trinkets bearing the symbol of Iomedae are common among the fallen, as are demonic sigils, but there aren’t any remains that suggest the presence of Sarkorian god callers. This battlefield was clearly used by demons and crusaders, not Domorans.
***
Ravenna explores Domora's Tower. Tucked between the staircase and the wall are a quartet of large metal plates, each etched with a portrait and a fantastical story of one of Domora Hume’s most talented students. These four students came from four separate Sarkorian clans. Their names were Sagiyas Howlingblood, Jaki Allriver, Gennin Wintersun, and Alkin Stareye.
***
Nox and Sylva investigate the Hall of Gods. As they explore, they hear wispy fragments of Domoran phrases echoing among the halls, each word spoken by an invisible spirit. These whispers come from dozens of god callers from Domora’s past. The people of Domora clearly didn’t just worship one deity—they had many. Sounds of nature intermingle with the murmured voices: susurrations become leaves rustling in the wind, and low chants morph into the creaking of an old tree. Clearly, forces of nature were integral to Domoran spirituality.
***
At the end of the day, you reconvene to compare your notes and consolidate your discoveries. Domora’s founder, Domora Hume, saved his people from violent raiders by summoning a powerful water spirit named Dyzad from the lake just outside town. Henceforth, the water was called Hume’s Pool, and the people of Domora revered Dyzad and Domora Hume as goddess and god caller. Future generations of Domorans continued the tradition of god calling, summoning Dyzad and other spirits to guide and protect the city.
Many of the deities summoned by Domora’s god callers were spirit guides. Spirit guides are phantasmal creatures that represent various aspects of the natural world. They often manifest as chimeric beasts that combine features from multiple animals or elements of nature such as plants and weather phenomena.
During the Worldwound, a demon called Malgamon took special pleasure in slaughtering spirit guides and the god callers who worked with them. Malgamon was known to lair in Domora’s underground cistern, but no demon slayers ever managed to penetrate this dungeon—the wells and tunnels that had once connected to the cistern were all destroyed during the demonic incursion. Still, Malgamon somehow managed to make forays to the surface, so a final entrance to the cistern must exist somewhere.
***
Unfortunately, the ruins of Domora aren't entirely abandoned. As you are making your way back to camp, a gang of four demonic foes emerges to confront you! These goat-headed demons have glowing red eyes and flaming hooves but measure only about 3 feet in height. They bleat angrily as they brandish their burning swords!
Sylva somehow manages to avoid notice even when walking alongside other sprites. It’s as if the demons couldn’t tell whether their smaller prey were two sprites or three.
Seeing Ravenna towering over the other giants is sort of amusing.
▶️Sylva rushes the one nearest Sir Bat. She leaps and drives her knee into that of the demon!
“If you’re trying to scare us, it won’t work. We’ve faced scarier foes. And if you’re trying to kill us—”
After hitting him again, she simply adds, “—it won’t work.”
Reconvenning with the group, Sir Batman enjoys the stories found by the others.
I only found the signs of many battles by demons, and crusaders, oh my.
Blue eyes measure the advancing trio of Flaming minotaur demons with excitement!
These goat-headed demons have glowing red eyes and flaming hooves but measure only about 3 feet in height! It's as if they were made for us!
The bronze-colored bat-shaped sprite Enters his Stance, Raises his Shield and Strides into a Flank with Sylva!
The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire!
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Nox tries to hold on, but sobs in Sylva's arms. "I just miss her so much, and I'll be damned if I let this chance slip through my fingers. Weather it consumes me or not I'll keep going down this path till I see it to the end."
Snapping out of his state of contemplation about what everyone had learned Nox points to Ravenna, "Light em up quicker than mercury, before they burn us."
Ravenna, feeling the lightning in her muscles, fires off two shots, faster than she ever thought she could, all while backing away from the monsters.
Ravenna fires two bullets into the lead demon, then Sylva finishes it off with a furious assault! Surprised by the sudden ferocity, the remaining three demons back away and lob fireballs that engulf Batman and Sylva!
She dodges a fireball! Then another! Then BOOM!!!
The singed (and uncomfortably dry) water sprite powers through the pain!
“Hey—what’s with the hit and run, or vice versa? Stop!”
She strides forward and screams even louder:
—blasting her foes with breath like a cold day in hell!
Dreaming little dreams of being a Fighter, the Champion of Mazludeh just watches as his fiery play tang struts away!
Playing hard to get, ma cherie!
Blue eyes then begin trailing the trio of Fireballs being sent in retort!
Fair enough.
The bronze-colored bat-shaped sprite winks.
Smiling themselves, the bat Strides and Strides (his little armored legs pumping!) straight into the closest Flaming minotaur!
Miss me!
Sir Batman then attempts to Grapple him!
Come here and stab the Flaming shit out of this one, Sylva!