Emergence Game Thread

I wake. Red rims my eyelids, but I feel reasonably energized. And hungry. I graze at the stale bits left strewn about the floor, and take a final swig from the wineskin to clear my mouth of the stale taste. Hrm - the others didn't leave for Redwall in the night. I suspected as much from Rhiv, but the other two... curious. I note it, but it disappears into the cauldron of anger simmering in my soul. I put on my weapon belt and check my remaining gear. Only two bolts, and my knives - damn. But I am lethal yet.

As the others stir I announce unceremoniously "I know not what the cold woman meant when she spoke of 'something you've never seen before,', but every word had the ring of truth to it. I am in a mood for the dangerous path. If I am to find death one day, let it come swiftly. Besides, the Lord Infant can wait a few more hours, and I'm certain this party would be up for what is most rewarding. What say ye?" Where Rhiv appeals to their sense of duty, I subconsciously seek to stir their sense of wonder and adventure.

After Harp abruptly leaves the room, I turn and address To'ot and Therrien quietly. "To'ot, you speak well and I am convinced. My hammer will remain with you. I am glad to be surrounded by the dedicated and fearless. I am slowly learning more about you both as the days pass, but I sense that our coming together was not luck's blind dice. We are all here for a reason and--as To'ot so eloquently put, we need to be like a fist to be able to succeed in these dark times. As I am sure you can see Harp has been set adrift by the most recent encounter. As far as I know he seeks and acknowledges no god or higher power and has been driven almost entirely over the last 7 years by the wolves of fear and the idol of vengeance. Now both have been ripped away. I pray that this unmooring will actually lead to his freedom rather than his undoing . He is an incredible force that merely needs to be pointed in the right direction to do a lot of good...or at least balance evil....... He will need all of our support through the next period and I pray that you will help me provide it." I quickly grab my gear and leave the room following after Harp.

You exit your temporary quarters and the tunnel immediately turns left and continues downward, a bit more steeply than before. Before long, the decline turns into stairs and the natural caverns begin to give way to something exceedingly more manufactured. The torch sconces are more frequent, and as you descend, the musty dust smell transforms into a delicious and fragrant scent of cooking. You reach the bottom of the stairs and the path continues forward another 50 feet, where you can see a space opens up on the left hand side. Further down the corridor you can just make out the outline of a door, and another opening of some kind on the right hand side.

The party hugs the wall as Harp passes through the doorway and crosses into the space to the left of the corridor...

You enter a room, an honest-to-gods room. With your back to the hallway, you are at the left side of the room. As you look to your right, you see at the far end a hearth. The fire has been recently extinguished, but the pot hanging above the coals is still giving off that wonderful smell of potato and onion. The smoke from the embers rises through the space and exits through an opening in the ceiling. In the middle of the room down by the hearth is a work space, with lots of paper and ink. Against the back wall is a small pantry with mostly dried goods, a few fresh vegetables, and some salted fish, as well as a cupboard with a few wooden bowls, plates, and cups. Closer to you against the wall adjoining the corridor is a desk with some random bits of metal, wood, cloth, and a few notes scribbled in dwarvish.

But the thing that grabs your attention is in the middle of the space, only about ten feet away from you. Standing before you is a display case made entirely out of ice. The top of the case is crystal clear and can easily be removed; even though it's ice, it could be glass were it not cold to the touch.


Inside the display case is your sabre with a newly carved inscription and a note.

The inscription reads

sídh emel, claris dol, legin ranc, polod e' nos

which translates roughly to "peaceful heart, clear head, swift arm, strength in family." On the reverse of the blade is the crest that your father carved, stamped, or branded onto his harps, and an inscription of the sword's new name: Ecuilageth, "in life and death."

You remove the lid. The blade is frigid to the touch, and has taken on a blue hue. The note, written in the most beautiful script you've ever seen, reads:

You determine that Illarastra is not the owner of this space, rather it seems she was simply using it to make the food for Harp (which she did make by hand, and does indeed smell delicious). According to the notes, and confirmed by the fragments, it appears this area was used as a sort of staging ground to venture out into the wilderness of the mountain tops and forage to collect interesting ingredients and specific metal ores.

Whether or not she had permission to use the space is indeterminate.

You find a basket with a few more animal pelts, and some cold weather gear that would fit a smaller humanoid, dwarf or halfling, likely. Other than that, there doesn't appear to be anything directly of interest.