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So I had an idea for a project that I wanted to write, and wanted to see if this was an appropriate place to do it... I have subscribed to the Iron Gods path, but because of reasons, I am unlikely to be able to actually play it, though that is not to say that I can not enjoy it.
So, what I propose is the post a series of correspondences between Surrah Silvermane and her Mentor\Godfather, Malichi Ashenharp, as she makes her way through the Adventure Path.
So, assuming that this is an acceptable place for such a project, I am hoping to begin -- I didn't see a forum dedicated to Play-by-post here, and part of me is hoping that those who are on-the-fence about the Path might like to read these correspondences and get a feel for the series in a more voyeuristic way than simply a novelization.
If there is a better place for this sort of thing, please let me know, and I will ask for a move of the thread.
18 Gozran, 4711
Master Ashenharp -
I know that it has been a number of weeks since I left your tutelage and home in Sandpoint, but as you requested, I was hesitant to open and use the Thousand League Journal you made for me until I could do so with some semblance of privacy. This is a remarkable item, and I have no desire to see anything happen to it, so please know that I take your advice very seriously.
We traveled by horse from Sandpoint to Magnimar, then paid for passage on a set of merchant barges headed east on the lazy, winding, Yondabakari river, as planned, bound for Janderhoff. It is only here, in the room we have at the Cracked Shield, a tavern in Janderhoff, that I have enough privacy to feel it safe to put the events of the journey to paper for you. I think I made the right decision, but doubt ever lingers, and Brother Darriel is not a man known for his calming and forgiving demeanor, so let me tell you what happened on this leg of the journey, and you be the judge.
Because the barges were headed upstream from Magnimar, going was slow, but steady, and we would camp each night, anchoring the barges near the shore, and camping for the evening, to give the Aurochs, as well as their drivers, time to rest. As fare-paying passengers, we had "accommodations" on the barges, to use the word in its loosest possible sense. Still, I am not one to pass up an occasion to meet new people from distant places, and I spent most nights with the crew, trading tales by the fire. Darriel, not surprisingly, stood nearby and glowered the way only a Teifling can, which made the evenings occasionally... awkward. I know he swore to protect and advise me on this journey, but I shall have to request he do so with a fraction less enthusiasm on the later legs of the journey to Numeria. I'm not sure what people find more discomfiting, his eyes like old embers, ram's horns, ruddy completion, or simply the dichotomy of an infernally-blooded man in preist's livery.
On the third night of the journey, we were met by a bounty hunter piloting a wagon that was little more than a cage with wheels tethered to a sad looking mare. He was an obnoxious bore of a man, a Dwarf from Janderhoff, who had tracked down a "savage" half-orc who had a bounty on her head in Magnimar. It was a drizzling, unseasonably cold night, and the mood was as sullen as could be expected, and to have this beaten, wet, and stooped half-orc woman caged nearby was not a positive influence. Plus, she bore tattoos of a Shoanti tribesman, which meant she was unlikely as "Savage" as the Bounty Hunter suggested. I asked the dwarf - whose name I later learned was Kannig Hamerfall - what her crime was, seeing as how it was odd to have a Northern tribesman so far south as Magnimar for any significant time. He told me that she was wanted for Murder of a nobleman's son... this, again, did not add up to me, and, being a girl whose need for explanations you are well aware of, I decided to gather more information, and there was only one other source to be had. I picked up a blanket and bowl of the rabbit stew we had been eating, and with Kannig's permission, went to offer them to his prisoner.
With Kannig's warnings in my ears that she was a mindless savage, and would just as soon eat my hand as take food from it, I approached his wagon. I could hear Darriel walking wordlessly behind me, most certainly ready for any violence that might befall me. When I approached her, I got a better look at her tattoos. She sat with her back to me, shivering in the drizzle, nearly naked. I could make out healing lash marks across her back and shoulders. My anger at her mistreatment almost clouded my judgment, but I took a calming breath and really "looked" at her. Her tattoos were of the Lyrune-Quah - the Moon Tribe - peerless hunters and archers found in the Cinderlands. There was definitely something not right about this. She was definitely an half-orc, that much was clear enough from the grey-green of her skin, solid musculature, and thick, black hair, though what little of it that she wore was tied into a topknot, possibly in deference to her Orcish heritage? As you well know, most Shoanti prefer to stay bald, and this woman bore the markings of a Soanti warrior. She was certainly extraordinary.
Without a word, I slid the bundled blanket through the bars, and laid the bowl of soup on top of it. Her response was lightning fast, and before I could so much as gasp, she had turned and grasped the cage bars before me, glaring with a silent intensity that forced me to quickly step back. I held up a hand to Darriel as I heard him shift his weight, I would think to lunge to my protection, but I felt no threat in her gesture, merely an effort to assert what dominance she could.
Her face was a patchwork of bruises, one eye barely able to open at all, and one of her tusks looked freshly snapped. She had clearly been savagely beaten, and perhaps it was my sense of injustice in her plight, but I felt no fear, and, slowly, stepped forward again. She sat back, covering herself with the blanket and sipping gingerly at the soup. A moment later, I heard Kannig call me away with a warning so vile it even drew a reproachful glance from Brother Darriel (which ended that exchange with a certainty that I think Kannig was not expecting). I nodded to the prisoner, and mouthed "later" to her. I was intent on speaking with this so-called Savage in the evening, when there was less attention to be had.
I returned to the fire and Kannig informed us that he was to leave in the morning, bound for Magnimar. There, he was to collect his considerable bounty, and planned to spend it as quickly as possible on beer and whores. A lovely fellow, this Hammerfall, and I was looking forward to seeing the back of him. The evening drew down shortly after that. I soon made my leave, and slipped back to the Barge.
Some hours later, I slipped back out, once Darriel slept (astonishingly, he does actually close those eyes occasionally) and all but the Watch had laid down for the night. I brought the watchman a plate of cheese and bread from my pack as a small bribe, and made my way as silently as I could back to the Bounty Hunter's wagon, where I found the prisoner awake and silently staring as I approached. We spoke in hushed tones for some time that night. Shoanti is not my strongest language, but the conversation seemed to yield a trove of startling information.
As it turned out, her mother was a Shoanti triebesman of the Moon Clan, as I suspected, who bore her after an orc raid. Her name was L'Leth, an unusual name, she admitted, for a Shoanti, but she attributed that to her mixed heritage as well. If memory serves, there is a similar-sounding word in Shoanti that is the name of a fortunate wind that blows under a full moon...
The bounty on her head was, as I thought, entirely fabricated. She was indeed in Magnimar, tracking a wayward member of her tribe who had fallen to corruption, so she could end him and save her family's honor before he did something regrettable. She was, sadly, too late, arriving as she did to witness her tribesman crush a boy's skull with his bare hands in a beast's rage. She put an arrow in his neck, but was found by the Maginmarian Watch with the boy's body - a local nobleman's son. Panicking, she fled the city with due haste, and could not be sure that there was at least one death by her hand as she fled. She had reached the foothills of the Mindspin mountains when Kannig and his team of 4 other Bounty Hunters caught her. She managed to kill two of them before she fell to a poisoned dart. Kannig later killed his remaining "partners," so as to keep the considerable bounty for himself. Further, he was responsible for the savagery of her beating, rendering her helpless with drugged darts before tying her down to beat her almost daily.
This is the point at which I made a decision that I hope was the right one. The whispered conversation between us was done, and Kannig still lay snoring nearby. Part of me wanted to free her immediately, but the lock on her cage would have been noisy to break, and I would surely be in significant danger of harm at Kannig's hand if he connected me to her escape, assuming that she didn't simply kill him in his sleep... but neither could I let this woman be beaten or killed unjustly. Looking at the wagon, I saw that there was a loose pin on one of its axles. Coating it with some mud, I was able to extract the iron pin silently, and replace it with a bit of wood laying nearby. I handed the pin to L'Leth, and told her that a lock of the sort that was on her cage was vulnerable to lateral stress - it could slip its pins under slow, even pressure, with a little leverage. It could even be done silently, like for instance, while Kannig was trying to get the wheel back on its axle.
She ... smiled, if that is the right word, and I made my leave. The next morning, Kannig and L'Leth were gone with the dawn's light, and as they left, I met her eyes, and for just a moment, really "saw" her.
Master Ashenharp, in the years that I had been under your tutelage in Sandpoint, I had met many people who were not what they seemed - Holy paupers, valiant halflings, villainous Aasimars, laughing Shoanti Barbarians, and learned goblins among them. You have always taught me to "see" rather than simply "look." To "listen" rather than merely "hear." I think I did, that night... but what if I was mistaken? What if L'Leth was indeed a murderous savage, and I was taken in by her story because her injuries and plight were anathema to my upbringing?
In all likelihood, I shall never know, and I think that Brother Darriel is not a man who would agree with me on this point.
Please tell me I was right?
Yours -
Surrah Silvermane
My dear Surrah -
Every morning, I start my day by opening my Thousand League Journal, in the hopes that you would have had an opportunity to write in yours. I was so pleased to see your careful hand in my book - and in such verbosity - that I even smiled, if only for a moment. Let us not tread the paths of madness! I have a reputation to uphold, if only among my former charges.
You have been a headstrong and, frankly, brilliant student of mine for the majority of your short life, and among all the children I have trained and sent into the world, your departure was the hardest for me to allow. For weeks I pondered the fact that as a girl in the possession of such an exquisitely capable mind and awareness, couldn't you blossom just as much here in Sandpoint as out there in greater Golarian? I concluded that while keeping you here might have not stunted the development of your gifts, it would steal them from the world. Convincing Brother Darriel to accompany you as a protector was not a simple matter, but it was the only way I could let you go. He may be a difficult man to socialize with, but if and when you are in a situation where his greatest talents become relevant, you will understand why I sent him. You can rely on him utterly. A man with nothing to lose can be dangerous, but a man who strives with a full heart to atone is relentless.
Your strength lies in not just what you are capable of doing, I think, as much as it lies in the repercussions of those actions. Your interaction with this Shoanti woman is testament to that. I am certain that your perception was clear, and your decision will bear unexpected fruit. If freeing her is the only thing that you accomplish in this journey - which I doubt with exceptional intensity - you will have added some good to the world, and that makes everything I have done, and everything you will do, worth it.
You should expect to spend several more weeks on the road to Torch, and when you arrive, you can begin your advanced studies under my old friend, Khonnir Bane. You can find him at a tavern he runs, the Foundry. I have sent a message ahead that you are coming, and asked that he take you in, and show you what hospitality he would show me. Rest assured, this is a positive thing, child. He is a man of great intellect and integrity, whom you can trust. I know nobody with as much understanding of your precious Numerian Artifacts as he.
Travel well, and may the gods continue to protect you -
Malichi
2 Desnus, 4711
Master Ashenharp -
We left Janderhoff slightly more than a week ago, and have finally made it to Bloodsworn Vale. We went on foot, mainly because the paths up the Mindspin Mountains, while relatively well-traveled, are possibly too treacherous for horses or ponies. After purchasing the equipment that he thought we'd need to get to the Vale safely (and picking up some alchemical supplies I needed), Brother Darriel and I departed from Janderhoff. I will definitely have to spend more time there at some later date. You taught me that the Dwarven Sky Citadels represent a terribly important period of history in Golarion, certainly, but it is a very different thing to actually see one of the few that remain firsthand. The Quest for Sky is so long ago - to Humans - that it seems to have never happened, except that now we have Dwarves, Orcs, Drow, and other deep races on the surface, but to the Dwarves, it is living history, as close as my Grandparents (if I were to ever know them) would be to me. There is so much to know here, so many questions to be answered, it was difficult to leave... but Darriel was growing weary of the constant whispering under people's breath as he passed, and I think he is genuinely more comfortable away from others... Numeria may suit him very well.
The walk into the mountains was a struggle. We followed the river a far as possible, but eventually it dwindled into a mere stream. On the third day, I was collecting firewood at the end of the day's march, near dusk. I was very tired and sore for the climb, and had taken several tumbles over the course of the day, bruising my pride more than anything else. The mountains are not without risk of dangerous encounters, of course, as it is with any of the wild places. Darriel was busy setting camp, and I was not far into the forest when I was taken completely by surprise. The first thing I noticed was that the birds went silent. I pondered that for a moment before I heard something moving in the scrub behind me - a tough low-sitting evergreen that can withstand the harsh winters this high up the mountains. I dropped by bundle of wood and had gotten my hand on the hilt of a dagger when the Boar crashed out of the scrub, and came charging straight at me. Looking back, I feel like I was overcome with a strange calmness in that instant, as I realized that my odds of survival were not particularly high, when two arrows sank into the Boar's flank, buried to the fletching. The first shot caused the beast's front legs to buckle, and the second pierced its heart as it tumbled forward, his furious charge having suddenly become a rolling slide.
My first thought was that it had to have been Darriel. There was nobody else for miles around, but he came crashing through the brush a moment later, from an entirely different direction, halberd at the ready. I was paralyzed with fright as he brought the blade down on the Boar, taking its head from its ample shoulders with a single powerful cut.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, kicking the head some yard distant before he surveyed the treeline nearby, eyes peering intently. I was not, thankfully, and due entirely to the skill of the archer, whomever they were.
"Stay here, stay low, stay quiet." he said, then slipped into the dusky light. He returned after a short time, clearly flustered. He reported some evidence of someone having moved through the forest, but whomever they were,they were better at hiding their trail than he was at finding it.
While he was gone, I had started work on the boar. I think Darriel was honestly surprised to see me, elbows deep in a steaming, headless carcass, clearly not at all bothered by this most visceral of pursuits, and more so, seemingly unphased by the mysterious archer. It was my suspicion, I told him, that only an elf could have made those shots, and vanished as quickly as they did. Besides, I explained, anyone that skilled could have killed either of us at any time. This was clearly not their intent. This seemed to calm him, and we set to work butchering the boar. Between the two of us, we made quick time of the work, and finished before the sun was down. One of the advantages of being still on the western side of the range - the sun takes longer to go down than on the eastern slope.
I had pulled the two arrows from the carcass, and set them aside, but as we cleaned up, I noticed that the arrows, which I at first had assumed were of Elven make, lacked some of the tell-tale signs of Elfcraft. The heads were too broad, and the fletching was from a bird that to my knowledge was only found far north... in the Cinderlands.
As Darriel carried the carcass to our nearby campsite, I stayed behind for a moment and looked into the swiftly dimming light, hoping to see what I thought now had to be the case -- L'Leth had escaped, and was following nearby. I smiled, and nodded, murmured "thank you" into the swiftly closing darkness.
Over Brother Darriel's objections, I left the arrows in the clearing, with a choice cut from the boar, wrapped in a bit of clean cloth that I had treated with a solution that should preserve the meat for several days.
Unexpected repercussions, indeed.
Yours -
Surrah
My intrepid Surrah,
In the future, when you inform me of any near-death experiences you have, will you do my old heart a favor and try to be less enthusiastic about the details? I know, I know, you are out in the world now, and Brother Darriel is a more than adequate protector, and you can take care of yourself, yes indeed. This all is arguably true, but what is also true is that there is safety in numbers, if only in the sense of "every hit that Darriel takes is one less that you take." Do not tell him I said that, I believe that he would be most unhappy with that particular turn of phrase.
That said, I agree with your assessment of your phantom archer. I have done a small but of research this morning, and it is true that some of the Northern tribes do indeed hold debts to be sacred bonds, though I am not entirely certain which Quah hold this ideal.
The Shoanti are not particularly fond of any race outside of their own family bonds, but have long histories of internecine conflicts with Orc hordes. A potential tribesman with blood ties like hers would need to be impressive indeed to earn a place among them. Being a half-orc with full tribal credentials, as this L'Leth seems to be, she must have had to undergo a more than "normally" brutal gamut of trials and tests to earn them because of her lineage, meaning that she is in all likelyhood singularly tenacious.
While I am not well-versed enough on the Lyrune-Quah to draw any final conclusions, I think it safe to say that you may have earned the loyalty and gratitude of a woman who is unlikely to lightly offer her loyalty, nor turn away from a debt.
I suspect, additionally, that she remains hidden from you because she feels that by exposing herself, she becomes, in some way, vulnerable. She likely has even less of a fondness for "civilization" than Brother Darriel, and that is a significant statement.
It is unfortunate that you did not choose to rescue a Halfling bard. You would at least then have a decent conversationalist to help while away the time.
So, where are you heading next? East of Bloodsworn Vale you have will be entering some potentially dangerous territory. I suggest you try to stay well inside the borders of Nirmathas, and avoid any large groups. They tend to attract the attention of Orcish raiders if you head too far north, or Molthune skirmishers if you head too far south. Make for Tamran, and if you can not secure passage aboard a merchant vessel on Lake Encarthan, then charter a boat, and head out across the lake as son as you can. Nirmathas is a beautiful region, but it's sun-dappled glades and hushed whispering wind across prairie grasses hide blade and bow. It has been a region at war for more than half a century, and I see no realistic chance of that ending anytime soon.
Stay close to Darriel, my dear, and take no chances. You must restrain your boundless curiosity for this leg of the journey... and should you wish your phantom archer to continue with you across the Encarthan and beyond, I suggest you make an open overture to her, inviting her to join you face to face, before you descend the mountains.
For the first time in your life, you are leaving Varisia, crossing borders into other nations. You will always be Varissian in your heart, but do not assume that others share your values.
Yours -
Master Ashenharp
(Thanks, Guy. I'll see about moving this there, even though it isn't PRECISELY a play-by-post... its only me.)
4 Desnus 4711
Master Ashenharp -
We left the Vale in the early light the morning after your reply, having agreed to the path you suggested. When I read your reply to Darriel, he nodded and said, simply, "prudent." That seems to be about as close to a compliment as he is likely to give, so you should consider yourself flattered!
We made good time on the first day, the trade path that we walked was well maintained and easy on the feet, despite the fact that, up these mountains, the winter chill remains late into the spring mornings. The quiet seemed to do Darriel some good, and by that late afternoon, I could hear him humming what I think were hymns under his breath as we progressed, and at least once or twice caught him with a wistful, far off look in his eyes. It felt surprisingly good to see him "happy" but I restrained my desire to poke fun at him for it. At least for a while.
Later that afternoon, I asked Darriel about the hymns he sang. He seemed almost embarrassed as he replied. They were dwarven Battle Songs that he had heard a long time ago, and they had always reminded him that beauty, he said, could be found in unlikely places. Looking around at the thinning forest as we descended the mountains, he told me that his calling was to battle. The song of "sword and steel, of blood and glory" he called it, and that things like a forested mountainside were to him as unexpected a place to find beauty as a battlefield was to other people.
I realized at that point how much better it was to have a man like Brother Darriel to protect me than it was to have him in my vicinity under less... controlled auspices.
We found a camp sight just off the path as afternoon wore into evening, and Darriel suggested that we take advantage of it. The site had a collection of dried wood and tinder, as well as a rough lean-to that had clearly been in place for several winters. On these well-trod paths, Darriel explained, established camp sights like this usually implied that we were a day's walk from the next inn or town. Plus, he added, on the eastern side of the Mountains, the sunset would be sudden, as we were in the shadows of the peaks now. When we left, we were to leave a few coppers as thanks, or if not, cut wood to replace what we had used.
Wise advice, I thought. I also decided to leave a small bit of waterproofed canvas with some basic supplies that others might find useful - a few tindertwigs, a couple of bandages, a knife, and a bit of trailbread, though that last bit i was sure I'd have to sneak past Darriel.
Once we had a small cookfire set, I looked out into the gathering dusk and called out to L'Leth. I knew she was likely still out there, and wanted her to know that she was welcome. I hope that my grasp of the Shoanti traditions and language was not insulting. "Northern Sister," I called in Shoanti, "come and share our fire and food, share our stories and wine, and be safe. We will see what the dawn brings for us both."
I got no reply... Darriel has first watch, so I am off to bed now.
We shall see what the dawn brings -
Surrah
its no big deal, i don't mind it here:)
(Thanks, Guy. I'll see about moving this there, even though it isn't PRECISELY a play-by-post... its only me.)
(In your opening post, you mentioned not finding the Play by Posts forum/board.)
5 Desnus, 4711
Master Ashenharp -
Well, that was embarrassing...
I woke to the sound of birds and the smell of warm morning sunlight and wood smoke. When I realized that this meant that it was morning and I had not been awakened to take my watch, I bolted upright so fast that I cracked my forehead on the roof of the low shelter I had been sleeping in. Cursing like a bandit, I rolled out into the camp-sight, still rubbing my forehead with one hand and I disentangled myself from my blanket with the other, and was met with two things that I must admit I had no expectation to encountering.
I was still foggy-headed from sleep, and had two conflicting narratives forming in my mind for what had happened. One involved silent beasts of the night who had taken Brother Darriel without a sound, and yet left me sleeping soundly, while the other involved Darriel showing kindness and compassion, and letting me sleep, taking watch the entire night. I found these competing threads to both be absurd, and yet surprisingly capable of explaining the current situation. Neither of them helped me accomodate the shocking scene that met me as my eyes adjusted to the dawn light.
First, sitting across the campfire from me was L'Leth. She peered up at me over a cup of some sort of herbed tea, a smile playing around her eyes.
Second, sitting nearby, Brother Darriel... stifling laughter.
As I blinked in the morning light, trying unsuccessfully to wedge this information into one, then the other of those competing narratives, and having utterly no success, Darriel succumbed, and peals of the most astonishingly strident, pure, and glorious laughter rang out into the morning wood.
"So THAT is what you look like when you don't understand!" he struggled to say. L'Leth, to her credit, restrained herself from having fun with my confusion.
"Northern Little Sister," she eventually said - in the Common tongue - after Darriel had regained his typical composure, "Your guardian, Brother Darriel, and I had words while you slept. I owe you my life, and I would have that debt repaid. He is a gracious ... man, and has agreed to let me join you on your travels to Numeria. My skills should be of assistance in the wild places, if you would have me, and as we discussed that night by the river, the shame brought on my tribe by my cousin's crimes prevents me from returning to the Shoanti lands."
"Ummmm" I stammered in reply, not my most eloquent of replies. In my defense, my head was still swimming at this point, trying to accommodate all this new information.
"That means yes." Darriel interjected, with what I can only describe as an impish gleam in his eyes.
"Good. It is settled, then." She stood, placing her cup on the ground. When she rose to her full height, I marveled at how uncomfortable that cage must have been. She towered over me, taller than Darriel by at least a full hand-span, and yet moved with astonishing grace as she approached me, and held out a hand.
"What is your name, Little Sister?"
"Surrah. Surrah Silvermane." I replied. She took my forearm into her hand in a warm, solid grasp. I noticed that her hands were not as calloused as I would have expected, and cool to the touch.
"Then with the beasts and trees as my witness," Darriel cleared his throat ostentatiously, "... and Brother Darriel's Gods, of course, I pledge my service to you, until I die, or you find someone better."
Not at all what I expected dawn to bring, but I'll take it!
-Surrah
20 Desnus, 4711
Master Ashenharp -
My apologies for being so long without an update. I was beset by two issues. The first being foul weather, and the second being that in order to expedite our journey North, we took passage on a boat to cross Lake Encarthan.
How I detest water travel.
Combine the foul weather, the rocking boat, and the other passengers on board the craft - many of them young Crusaders to refresh the numbers fighting the Worldwound, and the result is that I have been barely able to keep food in my stomach much less write. I was so ill from the rocking of the boat that I even missed what foggy, rain-shrouded view could be had of the great Elven city of Greengold, while our "ship" stopped to take passengers and resupply.
We switched to a River Barge on the Sellen yesterday, headed upstream through the River Kingdoms. The weather finally cleared, and I was able to recover enough to write today.
So far, L'Leth has been a sparkling conversationalist, which is both surprising and lucky, as between her and Brother Darriel, nobody else on the ship would dare speak with me.
We expect to reach Numeria within another day or so. Once we are there, we will head to the Foundry in Torch as you instructed. With luck, I will be able to start my research within a week!
Yours in fortitude -
Surrah