Introduction

The following tale — which continues from last week — is the first questline for one of my solo Ironsworn campaigns. It follows the Heart-based Ember Maedra’s son, told in the form of a series of journal entries.

In last week’s Chapter, Ember traveled long distances to track down his mother’s murderers and rescued a young woman so that he could get more information about his nemesis, Brine.

So the journey continues.

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Day 17

After last night’s party, I slept soundly for the first time since my mother’s death. There were no dreams or portants at all.

When I was ready, Overseer Ludin shared more about Brine.

“There is a movement underway in the Deep Wilds led by an Elf called Harkon. He intends to remove the ironlanders from the forests using any tactics necessary: promises of aid, forced transplants, and the burning of villages.

“A few years ago an opposing faction called the Freemen took shape to defend the inhabitants. But two months ago, their leader died and the group splintered into gangs that are more interested in their own fortunes. Both “Big” and Brine belonged to this fallen faction.

“Brine has been vying for leadership of the splintered group and likely went to Trundle to seek guidance from your diviner mother on how to best do that. They passed through here some days ago. They are based somewhere South of here, likely along the coast since Brine didn’t seem like the Deep Wilds type. The Deep Wilds town of Amarilly lays on the border of the Southern most tip , the only place where the Wilds touch the sea.”

I set out [Miss], but the mists of the Deep Woods rose up against me and made the journey difficult.

I find myself speaking to Avril more these days. Perhaps I am lonely, but she is a smart bird and a good listener. I think she understand what I need more than I do sometimes because she responds to my ponders with soft hoots and sighs.

Day 18

The mists cleared today, and we made excellent progress through the woods. We stopped under a particularly large Willow which rustles soothingly in the evening breeze. There continues to be plenty to eat [Strong].

Day 19

The next leg of the journey was tiring [Weak] with many ups and downs along the hills covered in thick trees, ferns, and brambles. There are remnants of trader trails, but they are not traveled enough to make a strong path forward.

Day 20

I believe we are nearing the coast again because a deep fog has blown in and stopped us in our tracks [Miss]. I was unable to see much more than a few feet in front of us all day even with the light of my spear. So we settled ourselves and attempted to meditate and recall stories from childhood.

Unfortunately, I find myself dwelling on my mother’s corpse, her hands cut up from defensive wounds and her green velvet diviner’s robes swallowed with blood. Blood like I spilled only a few days ago [-Spirit]. Blood that marks and follows me. Blood that I cannot stop seeing before my eyes.

Day 21

The fog cleared, but the day was not much easier. We marched long into the night, guided by my spear’s light. It was worth it though, and we arrived in the dead of night.

This village never sleeps, and they greeted me with kind words [Strong]. I believe I am closing in on my target. Perhaps I will sleep well tonight.

Day 22

In the morning I asked about Brine [Weak], but the friendliness and hospitality from last night has dissipated.

The older fishermen refused to speak of Brine, and a younger one appeared frightened when I spoke his name and glanced around as if in fear that we may be overheard. This suggested that I may be even closer to my target than I supposed. I will attempt to reassure the boy with a story and compel him to speak of what he knows.

“When I was a boy, some desperate men came to my mother and demanded a divination to show them how to cure the illness that was devastating their village. My mother could only tell them the future, which was that they would ultimately fail in their quest to find a cure. They were angry and wept openly as they begged for her help. Their pleas moved me, and I spoke to my mother to see if there was anything we could do.

“She sadly shook her head in exhaustion, and so the men left to return to what was left of their village. I always regretted not being able to help. Please, friend, do not force me to return emptyhanded.”

The boy was afraid [Weak] but promised to tell me if I promised to make it look like it was not him who told. I readily agreed, and the boy told me of Brine’s hideout in a nearby cove. I continued to pester the townsfolk with questions, pretending to become more frustrated as the day went on. I finished by drinking in their tavern and complaining of the town’s unhelpfulness to strangers. [Oracle Success] The ruse seemed to work.

I take my leave to set camp in the woods to prepare for tomorrow. [Weak] I spend some time mentally preparing by describing my plans to duel Brine to Avril. She does not seem impressed.

Then when I attempt to renew the fading light on my spear [Miss], it fails. I am surprised at this, but I blame it on my overwhelming rage towards Brine; my fantasies about washing his dripping blood from my fingers is difficult to dislodge from my mind.

…

Avril woke me in the night to sounds in the underbrush [Oracle, Success]: murderers. I jumped to my feet, having half-expected this due to my elaborate and reckless way of asking about Brine in the village.

“Come out of the shadows, and face me!” I roared as I prepared to engage the enemy [Weak].

Five men step from the undergrowth, and one led them with an evil grin and drawn sword. He fit the descriptions. “I hear you’re looking for me,” he said. “I’m here. Any last words before I send you to join your worthless swindler of a mother?”

I had a speech rehearsed about how I would be the last thing he saw and how my cause was righteous. But when I heard the disgust in his tone, the pieces fit into place. “You asked my mother if you would become the new leader of the Freemen, didn’t you?” I asked but did not wait for an answer. “And she told you that your path would end in death before you reached your goal.”

The smile fled his lips, and I knew I guessed right.

“I am your end. Duel me now, and prove her wrong,” I challenged [Weak].

He hesitated. Then his grin returned and his body relaxed as he remembered that he had the upper hand. “Alright, but no weapons,” he announced and handed his sword to his companion. “I want to strangle you with my bare hands.”

I gritted my teeth and tossed my spear aside. If this was the way it was going to go, well then… “I’ll do you one better,” I called and pulled off my armor. “To the death.”

He laughed headily and stepped toward me to complete the other half of the circle I drew in the dirt.

I took the first swing and struck him squarely across the jaw [Weak].

He recovered quickly and aimed a series of punches at my gut. I saw an opening, but I bided my time and take the hit, striking him once only to keep him off balance [Weak]. Even as I did, I saw the glint of metal as a dagger appeared in his hand. He lunged, and I took my chance [Burn]. I knocked the black away and punched him in the throat to stun him.

He choked and dropped the knife, [Strong] and I seized the chance to end the fight. I grabbed him, one arm around his shoulders and the other around his back to seize his jaw and yank. The snap was audible, and he collapsed with a muffled squeal and wheeze.

My Vow was fulfilled [Weak], but even as my mind flooded with victory, I remembered the other four still standing there.

They gawked, and one said, “We know where you’re from! And we will kill every last one of the people you care about.”

We exchanged a long hateful stare as they turned to go.

“Wait,” I commanded, “Leave the sword.” [Weak]

The one holding the blade blinked, having forgotten he had it, and began to comply.

Another chimed in, “In exchange, let us have his body.”

I stepped away from the dead man and motioned for them to take him. Three grabbed the body and dragged it into the woods while the fourth left the blade in the dirt and fled into the night.

Despite having defeated Brine and recovered the weapon that killed my mother, my victory feels cheapened and short lived by the threats of retaliation. I can’t leave Brine’s men out there with a threat like that hanging in the air. I picked up my spear and touched my fingers to the tip to swear a new vow: “I will not let them harm my village.”