Online Session Recap - 22.05.2019

Tylendel and Lylas stand with their Brentonni blades at the ready, Red Dancer and Phantom with the runes on the blades glowing.

Suddenly Tylendel looks at Lylas.

Tylendel: ”I’m an idiot. I’ll be right back.”

He flies up above the treetops and looks to the east where the approaching sound comes from. He can see trees being pushed aside, as if something humongous is pushing its way through the forest. Further to the south east, he can see an orange glow on the horizon, as if the Great Plain is on fire.

He comes back down to Lylas and tells him what he has seen, and after some more waiting, Tylendel starts hearing voices. Female voices, saying what they want to do to him, to kill him, to toy with him. He is instantly reminded of Hegaan.

Lylas tells him that he can see something shimmering between the trees just as a monstrous thing appears. It is mostly humanoid in shape, but more than twice the height of a tall man, and seemingly made of the remains of dead people. There are bones and rotting flesh, skin and banners, swords and armour. Tylendel recognize the banner of House Evett, then he charges the place where Lylas saw the shimmering air and swings Red Dancer.

A lucky hit, and his blade connect with something. The spell that made the witch invisible fades as she collapses on the ground, Red Dancer stuck halfway through her torso. She tries to say something, but she only gurgles blood, and Tylendel decapitates her before flying back to Lylas.

Witch voice: “Nooo! That’s three of us you’ve killed!”

Lylas: “Flank the thing?”

Tylendel: “Yes. I’ll distract it from above.”

Lylas tries to flank the creature as Tylendel flies up in front of it, assuming that it can see from the orange, glowing orbs that looks like its eyes. Tylendel attacks the beast with a fly-by charge, attacking its right arm. He cuts deep, making bones and armour stream from the wound. He does the same when returning, this time attacking the left arm; Lylas starts attacking its leg, and the creature swats Tylendel as he flies by, not harming him, but shaking him up. On his return attack this time he flies evasively, attacking the head, and another deep cut makes the creature start collapsing. Lylas cuts off its leg, and as the creature threatens to topple over him, Tylendel swoops down and pulls Lylas out of the way.

Lylas: “Thanks. That’s twice now you’ve saved my life.”

The creature lies writhing on the ground, and Tylendel and Lylas goes to work on it, chopping it to pieces. Tylendel flies above it and lands on its neck, chopping into it. Eventually the creature stops moving and becomes just a pile of rotting flesh and bone.

The witch starts talking to Tylendel again, and after a short while he spots the shimmering air that reveals her position. Tylendel flies over and swings Red Dancer again, but only makes the air sing.

Witch: “Wait.”

She seems to have moved again, being some distance from Tylendel. He charges again, swings, and misses. From behind him he can hear her again.

Witch: “I beg you, let us talk.”

Tylendel charge and swings. He hears two thuds, and her top and bottom halves become visible on the ground. The face of the witch is beautiful and looks like it’s made of porcelain, before, that is, she starts ageing and becomes a rotting visage of something long dead.

Tylendel: “Your mercy is granted.”

Lylas comes up to Tylendel.

Lylas: “Are you all right?”

Tylendel: “Yeah.”

Lylas: “The Witches of Ardun are no more.”

Tylendel: “That is so. But who was the fourth one? This one said I’d killed three of her sisters, but I only know of two…”

Lylas: “These are… These were very old beings. I have known that their domain was indeed somewhere deep in these woods. But a long time ago one of them left. Disappeared. I do not know when, or where. I do believe that they were the consorts of, maybe of one the last Dragon Kings, or perhaps they rose in the Age of Shadows, or… Or maybe they were the creatures of the Crow King.”

Tylendel: “Hegaan said… Now, what did she say. That killing me was a favour to the Prince of the Red Beaks, or something?”

Lylas: “Beaks. Sounds like the Crow King, all right.”

Tylendel: “Yeah, I was just curious of the title, is all, since I hadn’t heard it before. I think it was Prince of the Red Beaks.”

Lylas: “You know how they like to cover themselves in titles.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Lylas: “I prefer to keep it simple.”

Tylendel: “As do I.”

Lylas: “Although I did accept Yellow-eyes.”

Tylendel: “Admittedly I do use my titles when I want to add some gravity to my arguments.”

Lylas: “What titles, exactly, to you carry?”

Tylendel: “Well, I am a knight of the Moon Guard, a married brother of Tamolyn Pahórek, I am the Lord of the Copperlands… I’m actually a duke. I was the Steward of Barosía, and I am a prince of the Holy Throne.”

Lylas: “Well, considering all those titles, I think you are fairly modest. But the first one is the one I would have been the most proud of.”

Tylendel: “You know something? That’s the one I am the most proud of. That’s the one I’ve earned.”

Lylas lays a hand on Tylendel’s shoulder and smiles.

Lylas: “You are remarkable, Greyoak. I wonder how this will all end.”

Tylendel: “Let’s head down to Bormost and find out, shall we? I’ll need to make my boat fly, though.”

Lylas: “I’ll… Leave you to it.”

He sounds dubious, then sits down by a tree. Tylendel cleans Red Dancer – Lylas’ eyes no longer glow yellow by the time he is done – then he walks over to Dreamweaver and starts casting his spell. It takes him two and a half hours and costs him a year of ageing, but he final casts the spell successfully.

He barely holds on to consciousness, but he has aged ten months, now having a beard. He also feels like he’s 80 years old, barely managing to stand.

Lylas is polishing Phantom.

Tylendel: “Brother.”

Lylas: “Welcome back.”

Tylendel: “Let’s go to Bormost.”

Lylas: “The sooner we can get away from this, the better. They must have been powerful to have created such a thing.”

Tylendel: “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Crow-king helped them.”

Lylas: “You’ve got a point there.”

Tylendel: “And they did call out for ‘Master’.”

Lylas: “You think he heard them?”

Tylendel: “If he did he would probably be here by now.”

Lylas: “I see. Yeah, you’ve been gone for hours.”

Tylendel: “A spell of this magnitude, it takes… It has a high price.”

Lylas climbs aboard Dreamweaver with a significant amount of scepticism. He touches the ship to make sure it’s real, and sits down by a mast. Mulendobra’s sarcophagus is also on the deck.

Tylendel makes the Dreamweaver rise through the forest, ripping branches off of trees. Lylas walks over to the railing and looks down, and as the ship rise higher, he walks away from the side of the ship, pinching himself. Tylendel points the ship south and accelerates. Lylas clings to a mast.

As they travel, Tylendel spends the time resting, looking east. The horizon is orange.

Tylendel: “I guess he’s coming.”

Lylas: “Oh, he is.”

He looks anguished.

Lylas: “He is coming. You think we’re too late?”

Tylendel: “I don’t know. I might not have time to build the Twilight Gate.”

Lylas: “We’re lost.”

Tylendel: “There’s still hope.”

As they fly, they see an orange flash that lights the sky. Eventually the reach Old Bormost. They fly over the city and Tylendel parks Dreamweaver next to the wall east of Ironheart Tower. Tylendel can’t avoid noticing that the Everspring Garden looks messy, and there are few people about – the walls are largely unmanned despite his orders.

On the stair into Ironheart Tower there are two Holy Harvesters, mouths agape. One of them is Captain Kalareth.

Lylas: “Now you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Tylendel: “Yeah… I usually to when I come back to the Holy Hill.”

Lylas: “And not just the ship…”

He looks up. Tylendel looks towards Dimsilver, but the sky looks as if there’s four tears across it, four red streaks, as if traces of claws. It looks as if it’s behind Parafor’s Shroud.

Lylas: “All I know is that that gives me a bad feeling.”

Tylendel thinks for a moment, then walks onto the wall, Lylas following. He walks towards Ironheart Tower.

Tylendel: “Captain Kalareth. Are everybody asleep?”

Kalareth looks dazed, then collects himself.

Kalareth: ”Uh… Apologies, um… Yes, many are sleeping, and many are up in the infirmary. Gods, what happened?”

Tylendel: “I should ask the same. This looks worse than it did after the storm.”

Kalareth: ”It was worse, my friend. There… Things. Things have happened. I trust you notice the conflagration?”

Tylendel: “In the east?”

Kalareth: ”There was a great, big fucking boom. We had men on the walls, and those who looked east… Well. Some of them got their fucking eyes melted out of their skulls. Some are blind. Syr Dostan is in the infirmary and I believe the other commanders are as well. There came a great, hot wind. And there was… The sound of a thousand thunders at once.”

He looks misty-eyed.

Kalareth: “There is… I think they need you. People are… Well, let’s say we’ve been working hard these last hours to stop people from trying to flee. We’ve had desertions, before we managed to seal them in. Yes, people are sleeping, but we’re all trying to shield ourselves, so most people are inside. Every part of this fortress is now inhabited. People are afraid, my friend. If it would happen again, better not to be outside.”

Guard: “Except for us.”

Kalareth: “Some of us have got to keep their eyes open, if they can.”

The guard looks at Kalareth.

Guard: “You should try to eat something.”

Kalareth growls back.

Kalareth: “Who the fuck can eat?”

He turns to Lylas.

Kalareth: “My apologies, my name is Captain Kalareth. You might you be?”

Lylas: “Lylas of the Moon Guard.”

Kalareth: “Welcome.”

Tylendel: “I trust him as much as I trust Syr Dostan. He’s my friend. Do you know where the Duskborn is?”

Kalareth: ”I’m sorry, my lord, I do not know what you mean. Duskborn? Is that a name?”

Tylendel: “I want you to take Lylas… “From the Hall downstairs there is a side passage, up two flights of stairs down the hall and to the right, there is a room. Take Lylas there.”

Kalareth: ”As you wish.”

Tylendel: “Lylas, I want you to see her. I’ll be at the temple.”

Lylas bows to Tylendel, and Tylendel turns towards the temple. He considers for a moment, then decides that he can’t be bothered to walk, and flies Dreamweaver up to the temple, parking her near the stairs.

He walks inside, surprised that there aren’t any guards at the door. He looks inside the nave, finding it full of people and animals. He enters the room where he had a meeting with Heskant and Dinja, and finds only Holy Harvesters, workers. He gets told that the leadership is upstairs, and he makes his way upstairs to the infirmary. The room is packed.

All the beds are taken, and he can see many of his friends in the room. Syr Gombald is lying in a bed, bandages across his eyes. Syr Dostan stands at his side, Kajin sits by his bed. Syr Gylian is standing by a bed where Syr Waldor lies. Lukska and Syr Aurel are lying near the latrine. Ghoston and Wilmar are working hard.

Florentyn Cavell: “No, I don’t want to!”

Tylendel stands looking for a while, thinking, considering, then finally makes his way through the room. He walks up to Ghoston.

Ghoston: “My lord, can I help you?”

Tylendel: “Show me where all the wounded are.”

Ghoston: “Excuse me?”

Tylendel: “I need to see where they are.”

Ghoston: “The wounded are here, and in the gallery.”

Tylendel: “Okay, thank you.”

Ghoston: “Shall I join you?”

Tylendel: “No.”

Tylendel passes through the room, onto the gallery above the nave. He pats Syr Gylian on the shoulder as he passes him.

Gylian: “Lord Greyoak!”

Tylendel walks on, Syr Gylian looking after him.

The gallery is full of injured soldiers. Florentyn Cavell is lying near the door, his right arm bandaged. A Holy Harvester is trying to feed him some gruel.

Florentyn: “Tell this man I don’t want this.”

Tylendel: “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

Florentyn looks affronted.

Harvester: “You heard the man.”

Florentyn: “I don’t want to…”

He is fed a spoonful, and he retches.

Tylendel spots Duke Esmond standing on the other side of the nave. Captain Dusata stands guard.

“It is bad. It is really bad.”

Karlon Rimés approaches Tylendel on the gallery.

Karlon: “But many of them are also lucky. Those who were quick to turn their sight away saved their eyes, but we did lose a few men. They got their eyes burned out of their skulls and they were fried. Only those who were behind walls or inside buildings escaped.”

Tylendel sighs.

Karlon: “I wish Syr Arlind were here. The man he was, of course. The thing he became…”

He walks over to the railing and looks down into the nave, shaking his head. Tylendel walks over to him, leaning on the railing.

Karlon: “And then we have this rabble. Sometimes I think Syr Gylian is too good a man.”

Tylendel: “The animals go outside in the morning.”

Karlon: “Yes. They were taken inside after… What I can only think of as the Creeping God’s lashing out at us.”

Tylendel: “You are correct.”

Karlon: “I didn’t want you to say that. So he is coming?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Karlon: “Well, what can we expect? Is it a man? Beast? God?”

Tylendel: “Fire.”

Karlon: “Well, then let’s hope that these walls won’t melt around us.”

Tylendel: “I’m hoping to stop him before he reaches here.”

Karlon: “Still not lost your hope?”

Tylendel: “No.”

Karlon: “My friend, you should have been the Golden Faith.”

He looks at Tylendel.

Karlon: “You ARE the Golden Faith.”

Tylendel: “At the time there was a Golden Faith I was not worthy.”

Karlon: “Now you are. Now you are…”

Tylendel: “I don’t know.”

He picks up Shadowbreaker.

Florentyn: “But it is so disgusting!”

Tylendel raises his voice.

Tylendel: “Hear me! I am Tylendel Greyoak. I will not lie to you – this does look dire. The Creeping God has struck us a serious blow. But we are not defeated! This is but a small fight in the grand battle.”

He makes a rousing speech, trying to rebuild their hope, that they have The Lost God on their side.

Tylendel: “The light of morning will shine again!”

There is silence afterwards, but he does sense that he has managed to lift their spirits. Tylendel then start casting a spell.

Karlon: “We have a new Golden Faith! [Unintelligible] his words. [Unintelligible] the same faith in our own hearts.”

He kneels next to Tylendel.

Tylendel fails casting his spell.

Tylendel: “Stand.”

Karlon stands up.

Karlon: “I am in no position to actually grant you this title, but I don’t think it is wrong for people to think of you as a leading, shining light, a Golden Faith. My apologies if I offended you.”

Tylendel: “You didn’t. You honoured me. I’m not sure I deserve it, though.”

Karlon: “The people deserved it.”

Tylendel: “Yes…”

Karlon walks away, and Tylendel returns to the infirmary and approach Syr Gylian.

Gylian: “Lord Greyoak. How fare you?”

Tylendel: “I’m tired.”

Gylian: “I understand you are, but I really need to inform you about a few things. I do not know if it can wait or not. Who knows if there will be another blast? But I assume that you, by now, have gauged the situation here?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “But we’ve had hundreds of men and women who at the moments after the blast panicked and managed to get themselves out through Alfons the Reverend’s Gate and flee into the city. In the chaos and the panic and all that happened we dares not send people after them so we closed the gates and herded everyone inside instead, but we are short a few hundred people, most of them Holy Harvesters. We also lost… Lady Ester has disappeared. Syr Bohumíl is searching for her. There is also one of our knights missing, Syr Pryster of Yasloth. And there is… Something has happened in the chamber of the Prophet. You’ve got to see it for yourself. People are whispering about doomsday, my friend. But I heard your speech [unintelligible] hold the tide. In your chambers there is a stack of books from Bohumíl, and we have finished assigning new captains and lieutenants where the companies missed those men.”

Tylendel: “Okay.”

Gylian: “But I am unsure, my friend, we are unsure how to proceed from this. Do we dare man the walls again?”

Tylendel: “Yes. There won’t be another blast like earlier.”

Gylian: “You’re certain?”

Tylendel lowers his voice.

Tylendel: “I believe that was the Creeping God escaping the Doomed City, blasting his way out. He only had to do that this once.”

Gylian: “I see. So he is free, then.”

Tylendel: “I believe so.”

Gylian: “Then the time is upon us.”

Tylendel: “Yes. Speaking of time, since Bohumíl is here, I take it he has met the Mirovni?”

Gylian: “Yes, they have been taken and they have been imprisoned in the Tower of Pardons. My pardons for forgetting to mention that. They were in bad shape, especially one of them. We found him hanging from chains in a room in one of the buildings in Hessy. That commander had been torturing him, so we have kept him in a cell for himself. Some of the other Mirovni claim that they were forced to stay at his side, and they clamour for their innocence. They’re still under lock and key.”

Tylendel: “Were there any survivors of the Company of the Horn?”

Gylian: “The tortured fellow and four others. Westerners, strangers. I think they are Muruvian.”

Tylendel: “Possibly, yes.”

Gylian: “Highlanders. Sounds like they had some kind of plan before they were taken by that other company. The Company of broken men and women.”

Tylendel: “Did the Mirovni… Have they said anything about why they came here?”

Gylian: “We tried to get them to talk, and from my impression, and Syr Kajin, who I was graciously allowed to borrow from Syr Dostan, it seems like this commander, or knight, or whatever he is, came to find Yosha Artamon. I think he didn’t have anything good in mind for him. I think that fellow, Syr Yasen, is clearly a cruel, violent and insane man. And the others in his broken company did seem broken down, mentally, by this figure. I’m not sure what has happened, but we have them secured in the dungeon of the Tower of Pardons.”

Tylendel nods.

Gylian: “The men I sent down to find this Yosha Artamon..they haven't returned my lord. Even though we made every precaution. I believe these two men down there are very dangerous, unless there's something else down there with them. Or Artamon found a way out, and my men are still chasing him across wherever. I've been loathe to send another squad into the dark but have sent a few patrols out to scout the city's surroundings for any possible ways out. I have one more thing, I’m sorry. Your friend is gone too. We found… Nothing. No tracks, no evidence of him waking up and leaving his bed. Another search party is assembled, led by Syr Comton, looking for Eld.”

Tylendel: “I see.”

Gylian: “I’m sorry, my friend.”

He lays a hand on Tylendel’s shoulder.

Gylian: “I gather you need to rest. It is almost midnight. It is not more you can do for these men. Those who are here are alive. Some of them might never see again, but they are alive.”

Tylendel: “I will sleep.”

Gylian: “Do that my friend. We will catch up on the morrow.”

Tylendel leaves the infirmary, walks to Duke Esmond.

Tylendel: “There’s a ship outside the temple. See what it would take to make her seaworthy, would you?”

Duke Esmond frowns and nods.

Before Tylendel sees, he notices Syr Morton lying among the wounded. When Tylendel finally reaches his room, he barely notices that there’s a stack of books on his table. He takes off his armour, just leaving it on the floor, then falls into his bed and falls asleep.