Matt B Blogging

Pass of Mist

Randir stands at the entrance to a mist filled canyon - a jagged scar in the rocky hill. The mist is cold and unnatural, and he grips his spear tighter. His worn waxed leather cloak keeping the leather armour underneath relatively dry. His lined and weathered face frowns. He doesn't like the look of this, but he hefts his spear, and starts heading in. "Come." He says, not turning his head to Kotama, the 4ft figure behind him, top heavy with furs, with two skinny little hide-covered legs poking out, ending in padded and furred moccasins.

A jagged tarnished blade appears from the nest of furs in her right-hand, as she mutters "this is dumb". When Randir doesn't respond, she grunts and follows, her feet not making a sound. Randir on the other hand is making no pretense of being quiet, the spear butt scattering pebbles as he uses it as a walking staff, and the never ceasing grunting.

Raised as a hunter, by hunters, the lack of any kind of stealth by Randir is infuriating to Kotama.

You face the consequences of an earlier choice or approach: the choice to not go in stealthy means they're telgraphing their position well ahead of time

perplexing mystery, or tough choice - try action/theme : guard danger - some sort of warning sign?

As Randir journeys into the canyon, it narrows to just 10 feet across, and then ends with a strange talisman hanging over a 4ft tall cave opening.

The talisman is a woven circle of leaf and stick, leaving a gap like the outline of an eye. Randir peers at it, and startles a bit as Kotama's face appears silently next to his, looking at it too.

"I don't think that's the source of the Corruption" mumbles Randir, his voice like gravel.

"Pfft, no!" whispers Kotama, pointedly a lot quieter than Randir. "That's a warning. From Firstborn. Danger."

"Firstborn? Here? That doesn't make sense."

Kotama doesn't respond. She knows a Firstborn marker when she sees one.

"Stay here" Randir says, lighting a torch. Kotama doesn't respond.

Randir ducks down, and squat walks through the small opening, groaning and scuffling his way through.