Tide Watchers – After the Blackwells @Story Start

Tide Watcher’s contact point = Red Sleeves

state of the world: The frontiers of Gladnor are kept busy with constant attacks, though lacking the usual zeal of the darkspawn. Raids are never followed by swarms any more. Is there a blight among their ranks? It would not be the first time… but their numbers in the usual places seem constant, and there is no evidence of any on any bodies. in fact, Pledius the priest of Darupet returned to Mev recently from a pilgrimage to the fallen east and says the Curtain of Night is not the same – it’s not as dark. The Lightbringers ring their bells and burn their candles… they warn of dire times coming. Does the evil in the east merely bide its time? Inland, there have been nearly no attacks from the Orrish in their usual fashion from the underearth in a generation. Nearly no ambushes, no raids for metal or food, no swarms in the night, no creeping shadows that murder in the night. How much longer can this relative calm last? It’s hardly worth thinking about without knowing more. That does not keep it from your thoughts though, for you have heard your elders talk about when times were different.

Local Happenings

Troglodyte Attacks: A local band of Troglodytes has been armed and pushed to war by Gwinn. The local Lizardfolk retreat, outmatched despite thinning their numbers – not even Bella can convince them to aid the townsfolk.

The Earth Quakes: Aside from the normal news of events, trade, and politics, and news of the cease hostility in the war between Gwinn and Dunstrand. In the last month, a series of quakes has shook the central heartlands. Inland they are weakest, going all the way to Lake Caolite. But they are felt the most in the coastal areas of Dunstrand, the Kingdom of Umbak to the south and the Merchant City Karolak and the Prince Isles in the north. A few big waves have hit the coast, but nothing over 5′ after the initial 15 footer. The first quake was the only of any real strength. Even that was barely enough to knock items off shelves – the worst seemed to come out of Scar Flow. But since, it’s been constant, though intermittent. Over time, it will shake foundations, say the masons… probably to drum up more work. In all the years of the war with Gwinn, there have been no earthquakes. Rumors of all sorts are spreading.

Rumors Around the Earth Quakes

The earthquake began when the last of the Blackwells died in the Vale Evander (false). Rumor has it that they were trying to find an item of great power for House Malor of Dunstrand. Only a paid henchman made it back.

The Bronze Ring: Rumors…

The druids sent the party to the ruins, and it somehow landed them far away from home, and ultimately dead.


Shared Dreams (The Mev Cycle)

In the days leading up to your trip to Mev, you begin to have dreams, later you find out they were shared by all.

Dream #1 of the Mev Cycle

Amid lush boughs, your vision pierces into a deep forest. A tree with gems hanging from its branches is alight, as fire sweeps up its trunk. Your view pans up and the sun crosses the sky thousands of times before your view pans down, beholding a phoenix alighting on a tower where the tree once stood. The phoenix is grabbed by a massive pale wizened hand and killed.

state of play: The sun sets. As sure as war never ends. It’s just politics when diplomacy ends. What happens when the war won’t end? For three decades the Tarmysian reach has been in the hands of Imperial Gwinn. A supply point right in the middle in their ongoing attempt to carve out more of an empire in the north. It’s been brutal, pulling in Umbak, The Merchant Cities of the North, and Loamwold even. It made a lot of mercenary bands a shit ton of money. Theres been an open call for most of that time for mercenaries in western Dunstrand. That’s where you are headed, with dreams of becoming one of the few who live to spend their profits. Gwinn claims the land because it was once part of the Sea King empire… and now that they claim that heritage, and the people by culture and blood are “theirs”. The superficial claim is enough to at least keep the King’s army away. For the last half year, there has been several small earthquakes. The less educated see it as a bad omen, the better educated seeing it as possible doom – history is filled with accounts of destructive waves and slides.
[Time for Questions]

The Journey to Mev: Dunstrand even has a river voyage down the Nanford for those seeking employment. The rally point is a city called Mev – the capital of the westernmost earldom, ruled over by a young noblewoman. Mev is full. Genuinely full. Overflowing. Fighting in the pass to the Tarmysian Peninsula has even been delayed due to the quakes, though the truce expires in 2 days. Everyone is ready for all hell to break loose. You get as close as you can and start to reconnoiter the area for contacts and enlistment guides, or following up on your instructions you were given.

Lady Mary on the Run

[Mary] When the news came of our last group we had assembled here, I was both terrified and inspired. Part of me relished that such epic trials were still involving our band. I remembered the fire I once had, and I wanted to be part of that again. In Braddon Bog is a shrine. It is quite beautiful, but rarely used. I went, and I built a massive bonfire next to it, and gave the goddess Merkaine a blood sacrifice – my own. I was too quick for the guard detail, and I knew they would save me, but my wrist was cut deep and the bark cup of blood was thrown into the fire. I had dreams, I relived my time in the field. I felt the years of age and the chain of command wear me down. When I awoke, only a day had passed. But I knew what I had to do. I crept out of the makeshift bedroom that had been made for me in the Gallantine Library. I know that place like the back of my hand. I managed to get out of town with ways only I know and from there I traveled to Crestwold, trusting the fire of passion and vengeance that burned in me. I had to evade many riders – they are definitely looking for me. Between Braddon Bog and here, I gathered this collection. Now, in one last attempt to stabilize this area, I’m trusting to the goddess once more and throwing everything the Gallants have in one last roll of the dice. There wont be a probationary period – you must speak with the full weight of a Bannerman to do the job that needs to be done.

She finishes, her voice going up, her eyes are bloodshot and she stands with fists clenched and shakes. She’s dressed in road clothes and obviously food and rest are in low supply. This is the Lady of Dogwood Flats? The Commander of the Gallantine Academy? Looking around, you see the same worry in everyone’s eyes – what the fuck have you gotten yourself into!?
The Druids of Pranin Moorswood summon you at midnight, to the edge of the wood. It is drizzling, though no rain had been on the winds. Making sure you are not followed, you move southwest, through bogs and low wide trees. You come to the edge of the wood, at midnight as instructed. Cold fog hangs in the air.

1 on d6 = Elancil’s Enmity changes the weather [link] and ambushed by spirits.

The animals lead the way, a tiny host of hoping, slithering and flying creatures guide you in the dark, through the mist and endless strands of woods and water logged soil. Hours pass. You cannot see where you are going and the woods seem all the same, just as you are about to say something the fog clears and you are on the edge of a lake. Three crude mud huts sit at the edge, and an old dugout boat sits tethered to a log. Three men turn as one, “You have come. This serves us well. We had heard that your tribe had been killed, but that others from the tribe had taken their place. We had hoped the tribe had shared the interactions we had previously, and you would be open to heeding our call.” They point to the boat. “Get in, it will take you to the island. Night-Root and her sisters wait there.”
The boat is full with all your weight, but hardly seems to notice. It stays balanced and =moves at a slow pace. Exiting it, you are led by a disheveled woman who motions for silence and instructs you to follow her. Out of the fog looms a massive set of standing stones forming a circle, with an arch at the center. There are no adornments or inscriptions. Above are only stars. A woman walks from under the arch and says, “Greetings. I bid you share this place with us, a fine repast has been prepared as you formals expect from such social events.” She walks around the arch, and takes you to a small fire and campsite on the far side. There are logs for you to sit on, she sits on the earth. A large pot simmers, and some broken and hastily assembled clay cups sit next to the fire. “Come, sit and drink.” Quietly you all sit down, a bit put off by the obviously forced socialization. The pot smells horrible, but the drink is tangy and warm. You feel it warm the inside of you as you swallow, and you look up and see the stars above and feel at peace. This peace is broken by her voice. “I am called Night Root, and I am senior here. There has been a lot happening that revolves around your tribe. We wish to ally ourselves. Mutuality is the key to a group’s survival. We are inclined to trust your tribe, despite its alliance with the creature of Dwindor. Perhaps there is mutuality there we had not considered since a new elder has come to that place. For all that your family has done and is yet to do, we have a gift.” From nowhere she seems to produce a sheathed sword. Its coverings are aged, dried and cracked. She grasps the handle and in the firelight you see none of the expected glint from the blade as she slowly draws it out. A hiss is made, and you can barely make out a snake wrapped about her hand, seemingly attached to the blade. “This is the sword known as Coilin Esp. It has other names, unpronounceable to you. This blade was forged in the dawn before time was measured here on Helca, for a war lost to history. It is yours to wield if you will fulfill the oaths of your tribe, who have shed their last skin and bask in the endless sun now.”
They explain about the massive bronze ring and the mound. About the many strange events that have taken place there connected to your tribe – the Gallantine. There was an oath taken, to swear to quell the spirits of the place. They warn against breaking the massive ring, and speak of great power there that has been used by many a culture and people – yet all have fallen. Lastly there is a strange warning to leave any undead there alone. Within the ring, they are not bound to the winter host. Return to the stone circle for advice if you do.
It did not seem so long, but the sun is rising. You should feel tired, but instead feel no effects from the lack of sleep. You take the dugout back and there are only 2 men to greet you. They bid you march into the fog still clinging to the air. Seemingly in a hurry, you enter the wet fog, but can feel the sun burning it off. After only a moment of walking, following their voices, you stumble into the light and the deputy sheriffs that were watching your horses. The fire is burned out, they are just awakening and are startled into action, grabbing spears and making ready.

TIDEWATCHERS END: Physical Date = 8-2022 / Game Date = CY July 9168; 4 of 6 characters died from the Whisperer of Secrets- The Hangman Tree of Caliban’s Slurry. Gaming Contract updated just prior and after.