Day: 21/03/2023

DDC – Oh No

Tim MaidmentLeave a comment

Hungover and aching, the DDC took the portal back to the Hold and spent a da,y recovering. Thorin spent time with his father, learning more of the Clan history as miners of gold and amber. Valenia and Caeluma went hunting, caught deer, and found more troll tracks. The evening drew in and everyone settled down.

In the early hours of the night came sounds of fighting and outrage from somewhere in the Hold. People began to rouse themselves and search the halls. Valenia was first on the scene, finding a large semi-translucent troll in the Chief’s study. It was in the process of murdering Bentane, the old Lord of the Hold – Thorin’s father. Purple-hued twisted shadows accompanied it and sprung to attack – striking down guards before seeping through cracks in walls to haunt the corridors while the shadows of fallen guards began to writhe and rise in turn to hunt more of the living.

The rest of the group began to catch up and tried to kill the creature, which had a twisted violet gem embedded in its chest. They hurt it, but not before it dropped the body in its hands and turned to try and kill Thorin in turn. It taunted him, called itself Vasselack and claimed the Circle had sent him to be the Clan’s death.

Outnumbered as more of the group arrived, the spectral troll turned and ran straight through the nearest wall as the tide of battle shifted against it. Out in the corridors, more guards fell in battle with the undead shadows, until Karkanna caught up and aided Kerne in slaying them.

The creature ran through the wall next to Kerne and attacked them to clear their path out. The rest of the group had to run around the halls to catch up but managed to get there in time to save Kerne from the same fate that had befallen Bentane. The shadows were all slain, but the troll was able to continue through the walls and out of the Hold. It disappeared into the night, leaving blood and pain behind it.

In the aftermath, as survivors were patched up and non-combatants checked, there was dismay. Kerne comforted Karkanna, and Valenia directed efforts until Thorin could compose himself. Bentane’s remains were transferred to a side chapel. Before the assembled survivors, Thorin and the DDC swore to avenge Bentane and to make sure that this threat was ended.

How to do that? Well that was the question.

Lore Drop – Deadeye Alice

Tim Maidment1 Comment

The Blackcap Mountains hold many strange corners and valleys, but the legend of Deadeye Alice sees many variants across the various tribes and clans that make their home there. Stories are whispered of the kindly auntie who lives past the fields or who whispers in the dead of night and offers her iron trinkets to those in need of a friendly voice. Tales of bargains in the night that bring both fortune and woe are told by dwarves in their Holds, and trolls in their caves. The druids warn of her iron nails and capricious nature, but also of her brutal family who roam the heights and do her bidding.

Illustrative picture - a monstrous and hooded figure with a skull mask and purple skin. Two sets of horns protrude from the hood, and a flaming speear is grasped in one hand.

Deadeye Alice gets her name from the corpse-pale orbs in her head. An Annis Hag, this fey creature has made the Blackcaps her home for generations. Unlike some of her kind, Alice shuns the covens and gatherings of her sisters and cousins. Repulsive in appearance, she is not courted by the fairer folk. Instead she haunts the edges of settlements, gathers rumours and favours, and spins a web of obligations, blackmail, and corruption.

Top down token of a hooded figure with a flaming spear
bony-bordered portrait of a hooded figure with two sets of horns and a skull mask

Many tales tell of wanderers who seek her out in search of hidden knowledge, or favours to aid them in battle or love. She sees everyone as children, young and foolish, in need of guidance. Sometimes that guidance is benign, sometimes it isn’t. She can be eloquent, or crude, direct or opaque, and sometimes all of that in one exchange.

Those who particularly interest her may be offered an iron token, reforged from one of her iron nails or teeth. She plucks it forth and reworks it before them and from then on the new owner can talk to her whenever they wish, and hear her whispers in return. She has used these tokens to guide explorers, to tempt priests, and to corrupt children – and they are mentioned in stories around fires and camps as the winds howl in the night.

So when children talk of their Auntie in the fields, parents shudder and ask other parents who was out that day. When old iron toys are found in attics, they are quietly thrown away rather than added to scrap in the forge. The fear is that adding hag iron to the foundry would see warriors undone by whispers as they stood on guard with that iron around their heads.

Deadeye Alice sees all, and hears all, and owes allegiance to nobody. And anyone who tries to change that, meets her family – her two husbands and her five sons.