Ironsworn - The Unspoken Vow

Ironsworn: The Unspoken Vow
Copyright ©2021 Margot Hutton licensed under Creative Commons

Attribution 4.0 International License
(https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/)
This work is based on Ironsworn

(www.ironswornrpg.com)
created by Shawn Tomkin, and licensed for use under
the Creative Commons
Attribution 4.0 International License
(https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/)
This work is created with the use of

TheOracle bot
Developed by Xeno and rsek
https://github.com/XenotropicDev
Map by Ben Hooley

www.benhooleyartist.co.uk
Images by Matthew Wetherbee.

Created with assets from NASA
and Margot Hutton.
Dedicated to:
Matt, Elizabeth, and Jenny, and the bonds we’ve forged.
Content Warning:
If you feel you might be coming into a crisis, please stop reading and call your national
emergency number. You and your happiness are worthwhile.
• Fantasy violence.
• Gore.
• Animal death.
• Spiders.
• Medical procedures.
• Imagery of ritualistic suicide.
• Character act of ritualistic self-harm.
• Cannibalism.
• PTSD.
• Reference to sexual assault.
• Descriptions of sexism.
• Descriptions of racism.
• Curse words.
• Bear.
The creation of, and how to read
Ironsworn: The Unspoken Vow
There lives an Oracle with the power to change the entire flow of the world written here.
The Oracle is a random dice roller for the gaming platform, Discord, and Ironsworn is a
tabletop roleplaying game. And I’m a novelist. What I have created for you is not a novelization
of a game, nor is it a creative explanation of a throw of the dice. This is something unique which
dashes and dives along the unintended path which the two concepts weave.
The narrative attracts the reader to the story, to relate to the characters and their drives as
much as any novel. But the rolls, the crunchy mechanics as gamers call it, entices the reader to
relate as a player. The situations are charged, and the dice have real power.
The Oracle’s rolls are genuine, and I am not only willing to write as she sees fit, but I have
truly allowed her to devastate my plans more than once. She changes the course of these
character’s lives.
Yes, you may read this story as a novel, skipping the rolls, their results, and what they mean
for the events taking place. But that is not what I have intended for you. Even if you’ve never
played Ironsworn, even if you don’t understand roleplaying games at all, you will quickly see and
understand as well as any player the pressure of chance these dice create. I encourage you to look
at the narratives and the rolls as interlocked. Together they give the full story.
With all my heart, please enjoy.
Margot Hutton
Ironsworn:
The Unspoken Vow
By
Margot Hutton
Play Sessions:
Session 0: The Ironlands 1
Session 1: The Deep Wilds 2
Session 2: Battle of the Harrow Empress 14
Session 3: Formidable Foe 34
Session 4: Deepwater 58
Session 5: Depths 82
Session 6: The Moon’s Vow 102
Session 7: The Final Necromancer 124
Session 8: Forge a Bond 144
Adventure Statistics I
Session 0:
This is the Ironlands. The gods are many; magic is rare and dangerous. Monstrous beasts
stalk the wild areas, but they can be tamed.
It has been 200 years since humans left the Old World and came to settle here. They have
spread along the coasts and through the fertile lands along the forests and the mountains. The
Havens are where most humans reside. Villages are becoming towns, and horse trails are
beginning to cut natural roads between them. Knights swear service to a community, train
militias, organize defenses, and serve as a check on abusive rulers. But the most skilled warriors
roam: they are the Ironsworn. Powerful, traveled, and often gifted with magic, they journey as
they please, finding those who are seeking help, or perhaps in service to their own needs. In these
lands when one swears on iron, it becomes a vow of solemn determination and treated with
utmost gravity. The Ironsworn make a living of it.
((Oracle M’Lady, let us begin together; please set the scene. Who are we with?))
!Ask the Oracle: Elf Names

The Oracle:
Elf Name [55] Sutahe
Elf Name [63] Kendalanu
Elf Name [31] Kinzura
Elf Name [40] Ilsit
Elf Name [67] Mattissa
((What is our goal?))
!Ask the Oracle: Action + Theme

The Oracle:
Action [67] Strengthen
Theme [56] Advantage
((And are we in a good position?))
!Action +3 Wits. Bind with the Moon’s power.

The Oracle: Bind result:
9 (6+3) vs. 8 and 2 Strong Hit
Proklis: Bind Empowered.
((Thank you, M’Lady. Shall we begin?))
1
Session 1: The Deep Wilds
Fire kept the night crawlers away. Cinders lifted into the night, dying to ash long before they
reached the black canopy above. Trees grew large, and brush thick, and hunters thrived here in
the Deep Wilds.
As he ate, Proklis listened to the crackling of the campfire, and he could see the shifts of light,
but he kept his eyes closed. An entire day of scouting, and the hunger which came with it, made
this dense, nut- and seed-filled bread taste better than anything he’d ever had.
“I’m finished,” he heard Kendalanu say.
“As am I,” Sutahe said.
Proklis opened his eyes.
The two elves had placed their wooden masks back over their faces and secured them with
ties behind their heads. Kendalanu wore a mask of whisperwood carved into the shape of a
wildflower. Sutahe’s mask looked like a moth, and was carved from ghostwood.
“Thank you for not looking while we ate.” Kendalanu gave a nod to Proklis.
“Of course.” Proklis had spent quite a while now with the people living here. He had never
once seen an elf’s face.
“Have you had enough to eat, Small One?” Sutahe asked.
“I’m full, thank you.” Proklis smiled at the term of endearment, though among humans he
would not be considered either short or frail. The difference was that Sutahe and Kendalanu
towered over him, long-limbed and bark-skinned. They wore linens and leathers just like Proklis,
and they ate the same as humans eat. Elves stood about one-and-a-half the height of most
humans, though much thinner, with slender necks, long arms, long legs, and long fingers.
Sutahe’s bark flecked off of her just like a sycamore, and by midway down her arms, her skin
shone entirely grey-white. Kendalanu, however, had much rougher bark, a dark grey hue with a
hint of deep brown. Proklis himself was neither pale nor very dark compared to most humans.
His skin was brown, his hair black, his face long, and his eyes dark.
“How do you feel now?” Sutahe asked Kendalanu.
“Much better,” he replied. “The food helped. I can make it back to Elmhollow so we don’t
have to spend the night.”
“I’d say we have easily two hours of this torch left,” Proklis estimated.
“I can make that,” Kendalanu said. They all felt the exhaustion of their day’s mission, but
Kendalanu had suffered a minor wound on his leg after the path had crumbled beneath them.
Summer tended to bring either drought or torrents of rain. This year they dealt with the latter.
The stars drifted above while they trekked through the heavy woods, Kendalanu setting the
pace in front, Proklis behind him, and Sutahe at the rear. The torch announced their position,
frightening away beasts. Anyone with reason would likely not want to contend with two elf
2
hunters and an Ironsworn. The two hours passed in silence and Elmhollow came into view. Little
more than five wooden walls and an eight-foot watch tower, the elven hunting camp encircled
only enough space for a cooking fire, a thatched lean-to, and a few small tents. They kept it well-
lit at night.
“I was starting to worry!” Backlit by a brazier, the elf’s silhouette waved to them. From his
voice, Proklis recognized Kinzura. “Is everything alright? What did you learn?” Kinzura wove
around the posts and out to meet them. Still a younger man, Kinzura stood only about two feet
above Proklis. He wore light leather, and his mask carved from thunderwood depicted a heart-
nosed bat.
“Kendalanu is a bit hurt. Let’s go into camp,” Sutahe replied.
Kinzura fell into step next to Proklis. Similar in age, but not in skill, Kinzura seemed to have
taken a shine to the outsider.
“They are spreading closer,” Proklis confirmed. He spoke of the nest of harrow spiders that
they had scouted that day. “Their population is either going to boom, or it’s going to attract ash
bears. We could try to cull them, or prepare to deal with the bears in hopes they balance one
another and that neither roams out of hand.”
Kendalanu sat down near the fire. “I prefer culling.”
“I don’t see that as necessary,” Sutahe countered. “The ash bears will not come through us to
get to them. They will take a path of least resistance. The worst that happens is that the spiders
and we share hunting grounds, and spider meat isn’t that bad.” Sutahe stroked her emerald-green
hair in thought. “This may become a camp for skilled hunters only.”
Kendalanu replied, “I don’t see that as a bad thing.”
Proklis sat down with them and tilted his head to look up at Sutahe. “You’ll want antivenom.”
He could see the fire glinting in her eyes back in the shadows of her mask. “Indeed,” she
answered.
As Sutahe sat lost in thought, Kinzura turned to whom he thought of as the next authority.
“Ilsit and Mattissa are sleeping,” Kinzura said to Proklis. “They will be fresh to help collect
venom tomorrow.”
“I’ll help, too,” Proklis added.
“When did you start watch?” Sutahe asked Kinzura.
“Nightfall,” he answered.
She touched his shoulder. “Go sleep.”
Proklis and Kinzura slept late into the morning, Sutahe taking the full night’s watch. When
they woke, they found Sutahe asleep, Kendalanu mending a pack, and Ilsit and Mattissa absent.
“The porridge is glue, but the fish came out well,” Kendalanu said. Proklis looked at the food
that sat near the fire. It had probably been cooked at dawn.
Kinzura unlaced his mask, but before he took it off, he immediately laced it back. Proklis
pretended he didn’t notice. He cut at the solidified porridge with the pot spoon and scooped the
3
chunk into a bowl. He felt flattered really. The fact that Kinzura didn’t think of him as a stranger,
at least so much that he let his guard down while sleepy, made Proklis smile.
Proklis took one of the small, stone-grilled fish, and broke it into pieces in his bowl. The
Ironsworn closed his eyes and enjoyed his breakfast. The herbs in the porridge really
counteracted the glueyness.
With his eyes still closed, he asked, “Are Ilsit and Mattissa out hunting harrow spiders?”
“They are,” Kendalanu replied. “Would you like to lead Kinzura in a hunt?”
“I can do that.”
“Don’t take unnecessary risks,” the elder elf warned. “Promise me you’ll keep him safe and
bring him back to us, Ironsworn.”
Proklis smiled. His eyes still closed, he slipped the leather cord that hung around his neck out
from beneath his shirt. A knobby charm of wrought iron in the shape of a flat torus hung from
the leather. Proklis held it clasped in hand. “I vow to protect Kinzura and bring him back here.”
!Action +2 Heart. Swear an Iron Vow.

The Oracle: Swear an Iron Vow
3 (1+2) vs. 1 and 3 Weak Hit
Proklis’ fate has totaled to 3, an unfortunate number. But the Oracle doesn’t feel she needs
to challenge him. He faces only a 1 and 3. His total overcomes the 1 but not the Oracle’s 3;
there is no draw; she always wins a tie. Which means:
Proklis knows he can protect Kinzura but also knows he can never guarantee complete
safety: +1 Momentum; 3/10 total.
Vow
Protect Kinzura and return him to Elmhollow:
Troublesome
Even the simplest Vows require a few steps to fulfill. Every milestone will
bring Proklis closer to keeping his promise.
4
Kindred Companion
Kinzura
Kinzura supports • Shield-Kin: Proklis receives
Proklis in situations +1 if he and Kinzura Clash,
where snap decisions Battle, or Face Danger against
make all the difference. an attack together.
Health
0 1 2 3 4
While preparing for the day’s hunt, gathering some supplies and lacing his light leather tunic
over his linen shirt, he imagined the day ahead. Track down spiders that have journeyed away
from the nest cluster, kill a few for the venom, and return. Though the spiders themselves were
dangerous, the task overall would hardly be any trouble. He found Kinzura’s company a joy, and
his archery skill a great help.
Also clad in light leathers, Kinzura tied a quiver of reed arrows onto his back. “Ready?” he
asked.
“Ready.” Proklis led the way.
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer. Gather Information…
Kinzura followed Proklis without question. The novice hunter was much stealthier than the
Ironsworn, but not nearly as skilled in tracking.
The midsummer sun had already begun to tilt slightly towards the west before Proklis picked
up evidence of harrow spiders. He followed the dirty scraps of old webs clinging to branches here
and there. Soon he came upon fresh webbing entangled in the leaves. He shaded his eyes while
looking straight up at large branches choked with clumps and nets of dull silk.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?” Kinzura urged.
Proklis turned away from the webbing and led Kinzura out of the area. “There’s actually a lot
of spiders here. There’s no need to deal with so many.”
Proklis had not fully retraced their steps to avoid the danger, and began wishing he had.
Every few minutes of hiking he found another network of branches entirely overtaken with webs.
They held ovular bundles tightly packed into the hollows and crooks of trees. Likely unfortunate
birds wrapped up and liquefying until a harrow spider returned. He did not want to be around
when the feeding began.
The Oracle: Gather Information result:

8 (4 luck, +3 Wits, +1 Slayer) vs. 2 and 8 Weak Hit
The Oracle gifts him with good fortune—information that he can use—but more than that,
Proklis himself has the Wits and skill to know how to use it. Better still, he knows beasts.
5
Proklis receives +1 Momentum for the Weak Hit, +1 Momentum because of his skill as a
Slayer; 5/10 Momentum total.
Proklis wanted a fresh web or two. Spiders on the hunt, just as he and Kinzura were. Harrow
spiders were opportunists. They liked it when prey came to them. Being so close to these web-
ridden trees made Proklis wary. Harrow spiders had bodies the size of rat terriers and legs each
nearly twice that length, meaning they could snatch and paralyze vermin on their own. A swarm
of them could take down a buck.
He led the young archer further out, closer to the water. Here, Proklis knew they could—
From the hollow of a fallen log, spiny brown legs snapped forth, making a grab for Proklis.
“Piss in blood!” the Ironsworn cursed. His eyes darted. “One in the log, two in the trees!”
Kinzura nocked an arrow.
Vow to protect Kinzura progress 3/10: Well, they found harrow spiders.
!Action +3 Wits. Ambushed: Enter the Fray!

The Oracle: Enter the Fray result:
6 (3+3) vs. 3 and 2 Strong Hit.
The Oracle has deemed these spiders pathetic and given them a measly 3 and 2, which
means Proklis and Kinzura have a powerful Strong Hit! Therefore:
They have the upper hand. +2 Momentum; 7/10. Now fight.
Foe: A group of 3 harrow spiders.

Troublesome: they inflict -1 Health per Harm.
Proklis’ eyes locked on the spiders dropping down from the branches, then to the trunk of the
tree. He steadied himself, then lunged.
Black fur rippled over Proklis’ body. Feline grace lengthened his form, and his arms and legs
transformed. His hands rounded into paws, long claws splayed. His clothes shimmered away in
strands of silver light. His feet now paws and his midair transformation balanced by his sleek tail,
Proklis gripped his claws into the tree trunk and bounded with recoil and grace. As black as
burnished iron, the panther pounced up at the harrow spiders.
Bind Active:
Panther: +1 Iron
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind. With his own strength and the power of a panther, Proklis Strikes.
Proklis’ outstretched claws hooked into the spiders that dropped from silk lines. The
panther’s maw crushed one, and the other tried to climb on its dropline. Proklis twisted in midair
to latch on to it. The two beasts hit the ground hard, but the Ironsworn hit harder. Proklis’ side
6
slammed against the ground shocking his breath out of him. And in a shimmer of silver magic
Proklis’ panther form receded back into his human form. Proklis groaned, lifting himself up. He
could feel the last of the magic shuddering away from him.
“Well that was short-lived.” He pushed himself to his feet.
The Oracle: Strike result:

Cruel. The Oracle gives Proklis 1 luck! Not only the lowest possible, but doing this while he
uses Bind snatches away the power! Bind inactive: -1 Iron.
Nevertheless, Proklis had already inflicted 1 harm to a Troublesome foe, building the battle
progress to 3/10.
Shitty luck; now they’re on the defensive.
!Action +2 Iron. Face Danger with forceful defense.
Kinzura backed away, shooting an arrow into the rotting crevice. With the Ironsworn thrown
out of his panther form, Kinzura urgently pressed, “How bad is this?”
“Kind of bad!” Proklis stomped on a fallen tree limb, snapping off a heavy hunk and
smashing it down on the harrow spider in front of him. The club snapped two of its legs,
stopping it from skittering towards Kinzura, but the spider swiveled around, up the tree branch,
and leapt onto Proklis’ arm. Fangs punctured through his skin with a splurt of blood. Proklis
gritted his teeth against the pain, and in a moment of primal disgust, he tore the spider off him,
flinging it away.
The Oracle: Face Danger result:

Success at a vicious cost.
Proklis takes -1 Health; 4/5 remaining.
!Action +4 Health. Endure Harm. Just press on. Please!

The Oracle: Endure Harm result:
Proklis doesn’t falter.
The Ironsworn gasped, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. Kinzura backed both from the
spider that Proklis had flung and the remaining one still nestled for an ambush in the log. The
archer kept sure footing, arrow drawn. Both beasts crawled to the top of the rotting log and
hesitated there. The spiders leaned back and threw their forelegs up in the air, fangs splayed
making Proklis and Kinzura flinch back, bracing for attack. The beasts stood there, hissing;
Proklis watched their movements, not unfamiliar with aggressive foes.
7
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Shield-Kin. Face Danger with insight.
Oh, Proklis knew a feint when he saw one. The spiders had thrown up a defense with open
forest to their backs; those beasts had no intention of being chased. The spiders wanted to lure
them in and he would not fall for it. “Focus your shots on the one to the left,” Proklis ordered.
The harrow spiders leapt and Kinzura’s bowstring sang!

7 (3+3+1) vs. 6 and 5 Strong Hit!
Proklis: +1 Momentum; 8/10.
!Action +2 Iron. Strike!
Kinzura’s arrow skewered through the harrow spider, shooting it out of the air. It fell to the
ground, twitched, and curled. Proklis swung the heavy branch one-handed and smashed the
second spider midleap. The beast crunched under the force, instantly dead.

Together Proklis and Kinzura inflict 3 Harm, progressing the battle by 9; 10/10 total.
!Action End the Fight.

The Oracle: End the Fight result:
10 vs. 4 and 3 Strong Hit
Foe: A group of 3 harrow spiders.

Defeated.
Vow progress 6/10: Harrow spiders slain.
Proklis’ eyes darted, searching the area as his heavy pants faded. The three harrow spiders lay
crumpled and broken on the forest floor. No more seemed nearby. He tossed the tree limb aside.
“Are you alright?” Kinzura asked the Ironsworn.
Proklis looked over the wound on his arm. “It’s not bad right now, but I might need the first
dose of our antivenom.”
The battle-rush faded and Kinzura began to laugh lightly. He looked about at the slain
spiders, and the reed arrows he’d shot, which all but one had snapped against the log. “That was
terrifying,” Kinzura said, but with only thrill in his voice. Proklis smiled. He knew that feeling
well.
They shoved the three spiders into satchels and Proklis surveyed the terrain. Elmhollow was
east-southeast from them, but he wasn’t sure which was more dangerous: leaving the path in
hopes of cutting straight there, or retracing their way back through the webbed trees.
8
!Action +3 Wits. Secure an Advantage by assessing the terrain and hope to not get ambushed
again.
The Oracle: Secure an Advantage result:

Proklis: +1 Momentum; 9/10. Nope, this luck will not hold.
!Action +3 Wits. Face Danger.
They began to retrace their steps in silence, somewhat tired from the hike and the stress of
the battle.
“Hold on.” Proklis stopped at the sight of sheets of discarded webs dotting the tops of the
brush. He disconcertedly looked at the trees. The ovular bundles had been torn off and allowed
to drop down. “I don’t think we should go this way.”
Away from the dense trees, the two cut off from the path, heading in a direction of thinning
brush.
The hot sun met them at the edge of a meadow where prairie grass grew taller than Proklis
stood. The elf, however, stood nearly two feet above the ripe grain tops. Leaves, deep green from
the generous rains, clung only lightly to their clothing and gear.
“When will you be able to regain your panther form?” Kinzura asked the Ironsworn.
“When the Moon is out at night,” Proklis replied.
They walked in silence for a bit again, rustling through the grass, disturbing the beetles and
grasshoppers.
“Then, what if it’s the new moon?” Kinzura asked, referring to the only phase when the moon
rises and sets with the sun.
Proklis shaded his eyes, looking into the afternoon sky. “I guess even the moon and the night
need a break from each other sometimes.”
Kinzura chuckled.

As they approached Elmhollow, the wind guided the smell of the cooking fire their way.
Kinzura looked down at Proklis through the eyes of his bat mask. “I enjoy hunting with you.
Though, I’m sorry you were hurt.”
“If your arrow hadn’t struck that spider out of the air, I would have suffered two wounds
instead of one,” Proklis replied. “Thank you.”
Kinzura looked ahead again. “Let’s hunt together again tomorrow.”
Proklis smiled. “I would love to.”
9

Vow to protect Kinzura progress 9/10: Kinzura and Proklis return to Elmhollow safely
Proklis has reached three milestones with this vow, but there’s hardly more he could do. It is
on The Oracle to decide if it’s enough:
!Action Fulfill Your Vow: Protect Kinzura and bring him back to Elmhollow.
The Oracle: Fulfill Your Vow
9 vs. 6 and 10 Weak Hit
Weak Hit: The Vow is Fulfilled, but something has gone wrong.
!Ask the Oracle: Settlement Trouble

The Oracle:
Settlement Trouble [55] ...Attack is imminent.
10
Vow
Kendalanu: Troublesome
Protect Kinzura and return him to Elmhollow.
Well, they found harrow spiders.   
Slay the harrow spiders for their venom      
Return Kinzura safely back to Elmhollow         
Fulfilled
(The chances of fulfilling a vow with nine boxes full is 96%)
Now that we know, now that we’ve seen, let’s draw back from this crunch. Watch the
numbers; they have an aura about them, and you will begin to feel their importance. But
repel the desire for exact chances and ignore any urge to search for optimal luck. For that is
the domain of the Oracle.
Battle
(The chances of winning a fight with 10 boxes full is 99%)
Three Harrow Spiders: Troublesome

(Battle progresses by 3 per Harm.)
Proklis swipes one out of a tree. 1 Harm   
Kinzura shoots, Proklis bashes. 3 Harm          
Foe Defeated
11
Luck and skill combine to create fate:
The Oracle:
7 (6 luck +1 skill) vs. 3 and 5 Strong Hit
Then the Oracle challenges it.

The Oracle:
The result drives the story.

The Oracle:
12
Wits represents expertise, awareness, and the wherewithal to use them.
13
Session 2: Battle of the Harrow Empress
Before entering the camp, Proklis closed his eyes and announced his presence. He did this
habitually out of respect in case anyone needed to don their masks.
“What’s going on?” The concern in Kinzura’s voice jolted Proklis’ attention.
“You may open your eyes, Small One.”
The four hunters all wore chest guards of hardened leather. Kendalanu secured a quiver to his
back, Ilsit poured water on the fire, and Sutahe rolled clean bandages.
“Quick, eat something before we head out.” Mattissa closed Proklis’ hands around a chunk of
nut loaf and tucked three boiled duck eggs into one of the small satchels on his belt. She hurried
over to Kinzura to make sure he ate as well.
“Mattissa and Ilsit discovered a harrow empress today,” Sutahe explained.
“I don’t know what that is,” Proklis admitted.
“Your arm!” Ilsit held Proklis’ hand and he let her outstretch his arm to look at the wound.
“Harrow spider bite,” he told her.
“First antivenom is yours,” she said. She soaked a cloth and pressed it on.
Proklis cringed.
!Action +2 Iron. Tolerate the pain; Heal.

The Oracle: Heal result:
Proklis: +2 Health; 5/5. -1 Supply; 4/5.
“A harrow empress,” Sutahe answered, “is a spider queen of spider queens. Every egg she lays
will become a whole new nest and begin a brood of its own.”
“We have to kill it now,” Kendalanu said.
“She is currently laying eggs,” Mattissa added.
“We have about four hours of daylight left.” Sutahe looked from the angle of the sun down to
Proklis. “We’re going now. Will you join us?”
Proklis opened his mouth, but hesitated to speak. He gently touched his tunic, beneath which
he felt his iron pendant press against his chest. Finally he told her, “I am spent from earlier. I
cannot transform until moonrise.”
Kendalanu picked up a curved sword by their supplies and offered him the blade. “A claw
made of iron then.”
Proklis nodded and took the blade.
14
Kindred Companion
Kinzura
• Shield-Kin: Proklis receives
+1 if he and Kinzura Clash,
Battle, or Face Danger against
an attack together.
Health
0 1 2 3 4
Proklis no longer has the benefit of the Kindred Companion, but instead he is now in the
company of five skilled fighters.
Ilsit and Mattissa led them not far into the forest. In fact, it was a concerningly short distance
to the lair.
“She is in that gully,” Mattissa said. Thick, dark webs canopied from the tree trunks over the
steep stone. Draping sheets of web covered much of the wide, deep crevice.
Sutahe gestured to the higher slope on the other side. “We go around and attack from the
higher ground. What say you, Small One?”
Proklis surveyed the terrain.
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer. Secure an Advantage.
The gully looked as if it were no longer part of any system of streams, but with the rains it
wouldn’t exactly be dry. Once in, there would be room to fight, but they first had to avoid the
webs. He then noticed the thin snares stretching out from the thicker brood-webs.
“No those are fishing webs,” he replied. “One jerk of those lines and it will alert spiders far
and near. We have a good chance of entering untangled from here. Best to get into the gully as
quickly as possible, and be relentless.” Proklis nodded to Sutahe.

10 (6+3+1) vs. 1 and 2 Strong Hit
Proklis: +1 Momentum Slayer; he is already 10/10.
“Alright.” She gestured, “Archers to the left, Ilsit and Proklis on the right, Mattissa with me.”
!Action +1 Shadow, +1 Secure an Advantage Strong Hit. Ambush the harrow empress and
Enter the Fray.
15
3 (1+1+1) vs. 9 and 4 Miss
No. Proklis has proven himself time and again. This plan comes from experience and
insight, mindful of his limits and theirs. Burn Momentum.
Hundreds of thousands of gluey threads lay stretched, draped, or webbed over the entirety of
the forest floor and up into the trees. Nevertheless, Sutahe leapt out over the filthy center of it all,
arched her slender body, and slipped straight between the blankets of traps. She disappeared
beneath the webs, into the gully. Mattissa swept in after her, the threads hardly fluttering as she
passed. Ilsit, Proklis, Kendalanu, and Kinzura all aimed their leaps and fell through the opening
between the webs.
Proklis’ Momentum burns away the Oracle’s challenge.

3 (1+1+1) vs. 9 and 4 Miss
The hunters and Ironsworn have the upper hand.
Proklis’ Momentum smolders down to 2/10.

But that Strong Hit to Enter the Fray gives him back +2 Momentum; 4/10.
The harrow empress, her thorax as large as a horse’s body and tri-jointed limbs long like
doorway arches, crouched in the gully. Her spiny head and eight black eyes focused on her work.
Each spine-covered leg ended with white points, and she gently twitched fangs large enough to
surround a human or elf. She smelled of liquified decay. The harrow empress wrapped lumpy
mounds of her eggs in grey, gooey strands, oblivious.
Foe: Harrow Empress.

Usually ranked as an Extreme elder beast, with 6 skilled fighters in her lair she is
Formidable at best. (She inflicts -3 Health per Harm.)
!Action +2 Iron. Strike in unison with the elves.
As expected, the crumbling rock within the gully held plenty of standing water and silt.
Maintaining sure footing, Mattissa and Sutahe rushed along the rocky basin with Proklis and Ilsit
flanking from the right, and a volley of arrows kept her from escaping up the gully. The empress
skittered a full turn, her fangs splaying with a chittering hiss. Proklis lashed his blade up, barely
scathing her as she jerked to the side. Sutahe read that opportunity and slipped beneath the
arching legs, her thin sword piercing in, but the empress’ exoskeleton was thick.
16
The harrow empress backed up along the sheets of webbing covering the side of the gully
cliff. Her forelegs jabbed at Sutahe, then jabbed towards Proklis, her spines and fangs forcing
their aggressive attacks to turn defensive. Mattissa and Ilsit pressed in only to be pushed back.

3 (1+2) vs. 5 and 5 Complication
Not only has the Oracle’s luck and Proklis’ skill failed, the numbers of the challenge Match.
There is no worse possibility than this.
The empress’ hind legs reached up into her network of webs, her spines clinging, jerking, and
tearing at them. And her children swarmed out. They sped across the gully sides, leaping,
dropping on silk lines, and filling the air with an acrid scent of venom.
Kendalanu exclaimed in shock, tearing one of the spiders off his back. Kinzura screamed as
one crawled up his leg. They focused their fire on the swarm, their arrows piercing through the
beasts’ chitin and into the organs and goo inside. That cover fire became the only thing allowing
the others to focus on killing the elder beast.
Foe: Horde of harrow spiders.

Dangerous. (-2 Health per Harm.) This horde would have been Formidable if the hunters
and Ironsworn weren’t working together.
There are now two separate foes that they must contend with: the empress and her horde.
!Action +2 Iron. Clash against the empress.
The four of them reformed their position in hopes of surrounding the empress, willing to risk
pressing close if it meant they could land more blows. She chittered, and her fangs twitched back
and forth as if confused with which one to attack.
The swarm, though, began to overwhelm Kendalanu and Kinzura. Proklis could hear the
archers’ shouts of fear and surprise, contending with beasts on all sides. He stole a glance back in
time to see Kinzura shoot a spider as it dropped directly in front of his face.
The Oracle: Clash result:

8 (6+2) vs. 4 and 10 Weak Hit:
Together they have inflicted 2 Harm to the empress, but the archers are in dire need of help.
!Action +3 Wits. Face Danger with insight and expertise.
Proklis quickly reassessed the terrain. Though the archers had stayed further from the melee,
they couldn’t retreat up any further without hitting web. If they leapt to the boulder below them,
17
and followed the cliff to the left, they could join Proklis and Ilsit. Urgently Proklis called to them,
“This way!”
The two elves darted a look toward the Ironsworn, who rushed to the boulder between them.
Kendalanu and Kinzura leapt onto the lichen-speckled stone, fleeing the enclosing spiders.
Proklis moved towards the oncoming arachnids, putting himself between them and his allies.

Proklis: -1 Momentum; 3/10.
Proklis slid his back foot to secure a good stance on the stone, watched the spiders tear
towards him, and slashed out!
!Action +2 Iron. Clash with the horde of spiders!
Proklis’ sword cleaved into the back of one of the beasts, splitting its black carapace deeply.
The Ironsworn’s heavy cut startled the spiders, and as the creatures jerked back and raised their
front legs, Kinzura loosed an arrow and then another, each reed skewering a spider and knocking
it out of the swarm. Kendalanu fired upon the empress as the other three hunters coordinated
their attack.

Proklis and Kinzura inflict 3 Harm to the spider horde; 6/10.

They’ve regained the upper hand.
!Action +2 Iron. Strike at the empress!
Ilsit’s sturdy footwork helped her circle out of the way of the empress’ fanged lash. Sutahe
fended the same attack away from Mattissa who, as she jerked back, fell on the slick stones. The
empress’ spiny legs skittered unpredictably. Mattissa’s fleet roll saved her from the stab; however,
her sword flew from her hand and slid far into a silty puddle under a jagged boulder. She leapt to
her feet, her eyes darting towards the disappearance of her main weapon. The crevice was big
enough for a human, but not an elf.

7 (5+2) vs. 9 and 8 Miss
“Mattissa!” Proklis yelled. She turned and he tossed the blade he held. The point soared
straight up, and the balance kept the hilt vertical; she caught it with ease.
18
The Ironsworn’s focus centered on the crevice. He dashed and slid to his thigh letting the silt
carry him underneath.
!Action +2 Heart. Courageously ((stupidly)) Face Danger by sliding into a spider den.
Expecting at least one beast within that shade, Proklis kicked his foot into the first set of
beady eyes he saw, snatched the sword, and rolled. Two of the slimy arachnids sprung out of
their hole after him before he could get off the ground.

!Action +2 Iron. Clash!
Still lying in the mud, Proklis lashed Mattissa’s long sword at the spiders as they leapt,
severing one in half, then cutting another out of the air. Two more sprang onto his chest and
Proklis cried out as fangs sank into his body; he tore the spiders off him, their venom splashing
through the air. He brought the cone pommel of the sword down on one’s belly and crushed it
under his panicked jab. The other spider hissed at him, but Proklis slammed the pommel into its
thorax so hard that the metal connected with the stone beneath. Gasping and gripping his shirt,
Proklis fled.

Proklis inflicts 2 Harm; spider horde battle progress 10/10.
Proklis takes 2 Harm; Health 3/5.
!Action +3 Health. Endure Harm.

7 (4+3) vs. 1 and 1 Opportunity
Pain is never easily ignored. It can tear someone down, but it can also press into them the
instinct to fight!
There is no better possibility than overcoming a challenge that is a Match.
Every detail of the spider’s lunge stretched out before Proklis and instinct took over. Far from
being skilled with a sword, his hand let it roll off his palm. His wrists neared one another, and his
arm swept out, catching the spider and tossing it aside as he leaned out of the way. He reached
19
out for another spider, grasping its legs midair, and with a twist he smashed it apart on the gully’s
rock wall. He immediately lifted his knee to catch a leaping spider on his shin, knocking it to the
ground, and he sunk his heel through it with a sick crunch. Without needing pause, he shifted his
weight to kick yet another spider away, unintentionally splattering it through the air.
Proklis’ breaths heaved as his weight centered beneath him, his eyes darting as the few
remaining spiders scattered and disappeared down the gully. Proklis’ gaze shot along the stone
and webs around them, but the empress’ spawn had abandoned her.
The Oracle: End the Fight against the horde result:

Foe: Horde of harrow spiders.

Defeated.
Only the empress remains.
The hunters all focused their fury on the elder beast. Sutahe’s swords flashed quickly,
expertly, and with precision. The empress whipped her legs up in desperation, scattering them all
but striking Sutahe. The spines scratched down her arm, tearing open her grey skin. She recoiled,
blood spilling along her bark.
Still breathing hard, the rush of battle and venom pressing against his chest, Proklis grabbed
Mattissa’s sword off the ground and ran to her side. The huntress flipped the smaller blade in her
hand, and Proklis swapped quickly with her. A breath hardly passed before the two cut at the
elder beast.
!Action +2 Iron. Strike.
Together they surrounded the massive arachnid, each of them skilled in reading the
movements of foes and allies alike. They easily pressed in or drew back behind, defending one
another and taking advantage of the openings that others created.
Blades drank and arrows sang—
And the empress’ fangs sank into Ilsit’s shoulder. She screamed in agony, cutting upwards at
the creature’s maw only to scrape her arms against the stiff spines.
They watched in horror as the massive beast dragged Ilsit up the sheets of web, climbing away
from her attackers.
The hunting party halted and the archers stayed their fire in fear of hitting Ilsit.

8 (6+2) vs. 10 and 9 Miss
Ilsit pays the price.
20
!Action +3 Wits. Face Danger…
A moment of hesitation fell among them as they began to fan, preparing for whichever way
the beast might lunge. Without taking her eyes from the empress, Sutahe passed an antivenom to
Mattissa.
The harrow empress let Ilsit slouch from her maw. The elf slid to the ground beneath the torn
web, unmoving.
Leaning her fangs low over the lip of the gully, she swayed back, her eight black eyes staring
into them. An uneasy silence drifted in.

The massive harrow empress sprang far into the air, sending shock through their nerves as
she soared over them all. Stones and grit sprayed and splattered as she landed atop Kendalanu.
He let himself fall back as the beast landed atop him, gripping her fangs and sliding underneath
her belly to avoid a catastrophic bite.
Proklis and Sutahe swiveled in shock, but Mattissa scrambled up the loose soil, gripping
handfuls of grass roots to pull herself up to where Ilsit lay. “Sweetie! Sweetie, I’m here! Can you
take a deep breath for me?”
Ilsit groaned as Mattissa poured antivenom into the swelling bite holes, soaking her shirt.
Proklis: -1 Momentum from Weak Hit; 2/10.

Team: -1 Supply; 3/5.
!Action +2 Iron. Clash.
Kendalanu struggled against the thrashing spider atop him, trying to wrench her fangs away,
trying to keep her from killing him! His arrows scattered out of his quiver. His bowstring
snapped. Kinzura had an arrow fully drawn, the arrow’s tip jerking with the tiniest movements as
he tried to find a shot amongst in the violent struggle. Proklis and Sutahe sprinted towards the
harrow empress.
Proklis lunged. His curved sword sunk deep into the harrow empress’ neck. The chitin
crunched and goo oozed around the breaks. The Ironsworn tore the sword’s edge down, the force
of which struck the elder beast’s head against the ground.
And in that split moment while Proklis had her pinned, Mattissa threw herself off the high-
ground and onto the empress’ back. She used her long legs to balance her crouch, gripping the
spiny hairs. Her body swayed with the motion, shifting to never lose balance! She raised her
sword up in both hands…
21
The team inflicts 3 Harm! Empress battle progress 5/10.
!Action +2 Iron. Mattissa: Strike!
Mattissa’s sword plunged deep into the elder beast’s back, sinking halfway up the long blade.
The empress flailed back, but the hunter held on, and when the creature’s weight fell forward
again, she drove the blade deeper still!
Mattissa dove off and into a skilled roll, abandoning her sword. She followed through with
her tumble and landed upright with a slide along the slick ground.
Kendalanu fled from beneath the empress as she began to scratch wildly at the stone, at the
air, at anything near! She skittered to the side, writhing from the wound, but too erratic to attack.
Kinzura fired arrows towards her but they either passed through her volatile movements, or
struck non-vital points.
The elder beast swiveled back, stopping when she faced Mattissa. The spider lunged and
Proklis slashed his sword, knocking the fangs skyward. The empress jerked upwards! And
brought her sharp legs down on him.
The Ironsworn screamed as the spider’s pointed leg plunged down his side, tearing open his
tunic, his shirt, and skin! Proklis slammed against the ground, a long gash carved down his side.
He gripped his knuckles white on the hilt of his sword and fought against his mind trying to go
black. Hot blood flowed over his sliced skin.

5 (3+2) vs. 9 and 8 Miss
Proklis takes 1 Harm: -3 Health; 0/5.
His body can’t endure any more, but there is more than one kind of strength:
!Action +2 Iron: Endure Harm.

Nothing but sheer force of will.
Proklis got his elbow beneath him and pushed himself up enough to see the battle above him.
Kinzura passed his bow to Kendalanu; Mattissa darted past Sutahe and drew a dagger from the
sheath strapped to the hunt leader’s belt.
“Flank it!” Sutahe ordered. The empress, however, had her attention on the bloody prey
beneath her. Proklis watched fangs lunge down upon him! He threw his sword up in front of
him, point forward, supporting hand on pommel! He lunged up to meet the fangs!
22

The harrow empress surged back, a screeching wail reverberating around the sword deep in
her throat! Cloudy-yellow goo seeped in globs around the blade. She skittered back until her
thorax hit the wall, she twitched, and her legs curled in as if withering.
Proklis inflicts 3 Harm; empress battle progress is 8/10.
The spider twitched and oozed. They watched, cautious…

Holding his hand over streams of blood, Proklis stood. Around heavy breaths, he walked over
and grabbed the sword’s hilt.
Proklis yanked the blade free and the spider curled until she stopped moving.
Proklis panted. The hunters relaxed. Mattissa climbed back up to her wife’s side. The
Ironsworn looked down at his bloody hand. He felt… tired.

Foe: Harrow Empress.

Defeated.
Thin elven fingers reached down and steadied Proklis. Only when he jerked did he realize
how ragged he felt.
Proklis looked up at Sutahe. There must have been a smile behind her moth-shaped mask
because the sound of it broke through with the tone of her voice. “You are reckless, Small One.”
Proklis laughed lightly around the pain.
Ilsit walked arm-in-arm with Mattissa. “I’m fine, my love.”
Sutahe looked to Kendalanu, who looked up from Kinzura. “We are fine,” Kendalanu said.
Behind the distant rainclouds, the sun blazed towards the horizon.
23
When a certain level of trust grows between people, Bonds can be Forged.
They left the spider bodies there, choosing instead to focus on helping one another return
without the need for advanced field medicine.
Proklis was glad to get out as quickly as possible before harrow spiders broke through their
nests to eat their mother.
Soon Elmhollow’s campfire burned once more, and Kinzura immediately set to lighting the
braziers around the camp’s walls to ward off night crawlers.
Kendalanu sat to rest. Mattissa tended to her wife’s wounds, and Sutahe went to tend to
Proklis’.
!Action +2 Heart. Forge a Bond with the hunters of Elmhollow.
Proklis cringed a few sharp gasps as he sat carefully. He unlaced his leather tunic. Sutahe
helped him pull it and then his shirt over his head. Proklis breathed out with light worry seeing
the swelling punctures on his chest, and the flayed skin along his side which gently flowed with
bright blood. Sutahe firmly pressed an antivenom-soaked bandage over the bite marks on his
chest. He gasped at the sting, then held the rag there himself as the huntress began to tend to the
long gash over his ribs.
!Action +2 Iron. Heal…
The Ironsworn’s breathing became heavier as he felt the pressure of the venom in his chest.

3 (1+2) vs. 4 and 5 Miss
!Action +2 Iron. Endure Harm!
The slow pounding beneath the bites grew painful. His chest felt too heavy to lift. The effort
of those breaths felt so… unnecessary.
“Small One?”

8 (6+2) vs. 9 and 10 Miss
Proklis is still taking Harm.

With no Health left, Proklis suffers the pain in Momentum; -1 Momentum; -1/10.
And, with no will to Endure left, his Momentum drains further; -1 Momentum; -2/10.
24
Proklis’ hand slipped to the ground, dragging the rag with it.
Sutahe hooked her arm behind the Ironsworn’s neck as his head fell back and his fading gaze
lifted to the clouds above. “Small One?! Proklis!”
He’s suffered too much. The Oracle has the final say…
!Ask the Oracle: Is Proklis dying?
The Oracle:
Proklis’ Fate [62]…
Proklis blinked. “I’m here.” The antivenom slowly worked its way through him.
Sutahe held him a bit more securely. He lay his head against her shoulder, and though his
eyes still tried to drift close, he pushed himself up to sit on his own.
The Oracle:
Proklis’ Fate [62] Battered but still standing.
“You need rest,” Sutahe said. “I will help you to your tent. The rain will be here soon.”
Proklis drew a deep breath only so he could object. “The sun is nearly set.”
“You can’t possibly think you should draw upon the night’s power now, in this condition!”
Sutahe balked.
“The Moon will rise whether I’m in pain or not.” Proklis stood very carefully, Sutahe
guarding his balance. “It’s still better that I take this magic away where it can do little harm.”
“Proklis—” Sutahe begged.
“Just in case,” he assured.
The Oracle: Forge a Bond with the hunters of Elmhollow result:

If Proklis cannot lean on them, how can they truly bond?
“You have fought alongside us enough that it makes you our kin. Please let me come with
you? If only to watch over you?” Sutahe urged.
Proklis looked out at night filling the east. Reluctantly he agreed.
25
The tide of night began to flow over the forest. Light rain pattered at the trees and the long
grasses. Sutahe watched the little Ironsworn in the light of her torch, the shadows playing over
his dark skin. Through the many weeks he had spent with them, he’d often left after dark,
explaining that he must commune with the Moon at night. It seemed to be a pattern connected
to when he changed forms. He fought as a giant cat, with the same ferocity as the night. There
were other animal forms, too... Able to contend with night crawlers by himself, they let him go
into the dark alone. He respected their wishes to have no outsiders look upon their faces, so
Sutahe insisted they all respect his privacy as well.
Proklis knelt on the wet dirt. Frogs in the grasses sang in the dark rain. Proklis closed his eyes
and observed. He felt the gripping pain of the stitches through the flayed gash over his ribs. The
pressure of the bandage over it. The rain. The sound of it over the leaves and against the grass.
The gentle coolness on his shoulders as it began to soak into his shirt. It matted his hair, which
began to drip. The soft ground soaked his knees. His thick boots felt uncomfortable sitting this
way. The breeze changed the pattern of rainfall; he could smell it mix with the dirt and grasses.
The brush rustled in the breeze... The drizzle coming and going... The movements of his own
breaths... He began to listen...
Behind the moving clouds, the Moon rose.
!Action +3 Wits. Bind with the power of the Moon’s song.
Whispers of light flowed in the shadows; tenuous threads each shimmered like silver. The
silk-like threads began to weave together, flowing like waves, braiding upon one another and
finally, gently infusing with the wrought iron pendant strung around the Ironsworn’s neck. The
glow over the metal slowly faded…
Proklis opened his eyes. Sutahe looked so much like a tree as she leaned ever so slightly to
look at him, as if pushed by a gentle wind.
“They speak softly tonight,” he reassured her. He touched his pendant. “Thank you. For
coming with me.”

Bind empowered.
Proklis has seen the power of the Elmhollow hunters, and trusts them enough to share the
danger of the Moon’s whim with him. They’ve truly Forged a Bond.
Moreover, Sutahe watched over him after his courageous, if reckless, deeds…
!Action +2 Heart. Forge a Bond with Sutahe.
…A Bond with a community, but also a Bond with an exceptional huntress.
26
“Promise me something, Small One,” Sutahe asked as they walked back to camp, the torch
fizzling in the rain.
“Hm?”
She drew a stern breath. “Promise me you won’t use that power, and thus risk the whims of
the night and moon again, until you are fully healed.”
Their steps through the dark wood sounded much like the rain that surrounded them. Sutahe
replied to Proklis’ hesitation, “I have now seen how powerful you are without transformation.
You know this is a promise you can safely keep.”
Proklis’ fingertips returned to the iron pendant around his neck. “I vow I will heal fully
before I spend this power.”
The Oracle: Forge a Bond with Sutahe result:

She asks more of him, so he vows.
!Action +2 Swear an Iron Vow to heal fully (5/5 health) before using Bind.
The Oracle: Swear an Iron Vow

Proklis: +1 Momentum; -1/10.
“Thank you, Small One,” she said to this human of entirely average height.
Bond Forged Bond Forged

Elmhollow: Sutahe:
They will tell tales of She is a skilled hunt
the Ironsworn who leader who welcomed
listened to the heavens and protected this
and fought in the young Ironsworn
form of a night-hued who happened to
panther. pass through.
27
The Oracle always gives Proklis luck ranging from 1 to 6.
But her challenges for him always range from 1 to 10.
28
The Greatest Offering
7 (6 luck +1 skill) vs. 5 and 5 Opportunity
An Excellent Result
Often Good; Often Bad

7 (6 luck +1 skill) vs. 7 and 3 Weak Hit
Dangerous Failure
7 (6 luck +1 skill) vs. 7 and 8 Miss
Catastrophe
7 (6 luck +1 skill) vs. 8 and 8 Complication
There is nothing worse than a Complication…
…Except, perhaps, to fail to Turn the Tide.
29
Proklis
Proklis’ strengths and weaknesses affect his fate:
Edge: His aim is… fine; he’s not particularly agile.
Shadow: He’s never cared for lying or ambushing.
Iron: He is fit and can fight well, and he can handle pain.
Heart: He is kind and people are drawn to him.
Wits: He is well trained and has good instincts.
Bonds
Currently: Everyone makes
Momentum: Overall things are kind of… bad. connections with people
Health: He’s in no immediate danger, but he’s been trampled. and communities. It is
Spirit: Yet he feels safe and is plenty undaunted. something that follows
Supply: As for belongings or gear, he needs little and has plenty. them throughout their
lives.
Vows
Ironsworn take their vows very seriously. Proklis remembers
his promises, and keeps them.
30
Proklis
Edge +1, Heart +2, Iron +2, Shadow +1, Wits +3
Bind
• The Moon has made a connection with Proklis. If he is without her

power, she will replenish it.
• He can use her power to bolster his own skills. He can transform into
five different creatures, each of which connect him with a different side of
his own strengths or weaknesses.
• He can only choose one animal at a time. If he wishes to change which
creature, he must wait for the moon to give him more power.
Brawler Slayer
• Proklis knows how to fight with • Proklis is knowledgeable about a

improvised weapons, his bare fists, great many beasts and horrors. He
or claws, or fangs. knows their habits, and how to find
them.
Below are the minute details of his vows, his bonds, his skills
and all else which pertain to his adventure:
31
Proklis
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lago and Menna:
(Background Bond)
Health Spirit Supply Gwyn:
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 (Background Bond)
The Moon:
Vows (Background Bond)
Elmhollow:
Hunting camp in the
The Moon: Epic
Deep Wilds where he
(Background Bond)
spent time with
Sutahe and her team
for many weeks. They
will tell tales of the
Kendalanu: Troublesome human who fought as
Protect Kinzura and return him to Elmhollow a panther for years to
         come.
Sutahe:
Fulfilled A skilled hunt leader.
She is a calm and
caring person.
Sutahe
Do not activate Bind until 5/5 Health.
32
Proklis
Bind
Empowered
(Unique to Proklis)
• If Bind is Relinquished: When the moon is out during night or
astronomical twilight, Proklis must roll +Wits to Bind with the Moon’s
power. On a Strong Hit, Bind is empowered and ready to be activated. On
a Weak Hit, Bind is empowered but Proklis suffers -2 Stress. The Moon
does not need to be visible, only overhead.
• If Bind is Active: Proklis may choose to activate Bind any time while it is
empowered. On activation he receives +1 to either Edge, Heart, Iron,
Shadow, or Wits. Once chosen it cannot be changed until Bind is
relinquished and empowered again. If while using this +1 bonus the
Oracle gives the Ironsworn only 1 luck for that action, regardless of the vs.
result, the magic is taken from him; it is relinquished.
• Relinquishing: Proklis may choose to relinquish the Moon’s power at any
time, but he will be forced to Bind again at the soonest opportunity.
Brawler Slayer
When unarmed or fighting with an
improvised weapon:
• Proklis receives +1 to Secure an • Proklis receives +1 when he
Advantage using +Iron in close Gathers Information by tracking a
quarters fights (such as punching, beast or horror, and when Securing
grappling, clawing, or biting). On a an Advantage as he readies himself
for a fight against them. He gets
Hit he inflicts +1 Harm.
+1 Momentum on a Hit.
• (Background Combat Talent.)
33
Session 3: Formidable Foe
!Action +2 Heart, +1 Bond. Sojourn a bit longer with the hunters of Elmhollow.
The Oracle: Sojourn result:

Proklis Recuperates: +2 Health; 2/5.
And he begins to Plan for what comes next for him: +2 Momentum; 1/10.
Vow to Heal Progress 4/10.
!Ask the Oracle: Settlement Name

The Oracle:
Settlement Name [95] Tiza
Days of rain, both light and torrential, over the hunting camp did not manage to make bleak
the mood. The thatched lean-to was big enough for the 5 elves, and adding one human made it
crowded but not snug. Besides, that rarely bothered elves. Rest and stories and laughter, and
many uncooked meals, were shared there within.
And soon, the time came that the hunting party was due to leave the camp. On the next
morning, a new set of five would arrive, and these friends whom Proklis had grown so close to
would need to return home. He knew the next hunting party would welcome him and that he
didn’t have to leave, especially since he had only partially recovered. But he had been here for
weeks. He felt ready to travel someplace new.
So, that evening at dusk, the six of them stood at the entrance to the wooden camp walls.
Wearing his mended leather tunic and a pack full of supplies, Proklis stood in the light at the
edge of camp; his friends gathered to say farewell.
“Tiza is our home town,” Kinzura told him. “If you are near the Deep Wilds again, please
visit us. If we aren’t there, they will know which camp we are at.”
“It has been an honor,” Kendalanu said.
“We will remember you fondly,” Mattissa added.
Sutahe stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “Remember your vow to me,” she
said. “I will not know if you fulfill it or not, but I hope you do.”
Proklis put a hand on the iron charm dangling from his neck. With a smile and with
earnestness he told her, “I will not forget.”
“Take this.” Sutahe presented a straight short sword with scabbard and belt. She unsheathed
it, revealing shining steel, double edges, and a blade about two feet long. Leather cords wrapped
the one-handed grip between a short crossguard and a pommel that would allow for the non-
dominant hand to support attacks. She sheathed it again and held it out to him.
Proklis looked stunned. “I couldn’t...”
34
“It is not a lavish gift,” she assured him. “It’s a basic blade, sturdy, reliable.”
“And these!” Ilsit showed him two small whetstones, then wrapped them in sturdy leather.
Proklis took them, a look of sincere warmth and gratitude filling his expression.
“Thank you.” He belted the sword by his side. “Thank you.”
The Ironsworn hugged them all. “It has been the pleasure of a lifetime spending these weeks
with you,” he said. Proklis lit his torch, and nodded to the elves. “Farewell.”
Ilsit waved. And as he walked into the night, she called after him, “Luck and peace!”
Journey
Travel Somewhere New: Troublesome
Every successful waypoint progresses the Journey by 3
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Bond with Elmhollow. Undertake a Journey.
The Deep Wilds spanned a significant portion of the Ironlands. The trees here were broad,
tall, and ancient. The ferns, underbrush, and woody vines always grew dense. Proklis did not
follow a path. Instead, he used the stars as a guide. Iridescent beetles flitted from tree to tree,
glowing among the bark and crawling between shrub leaves. Some trees had begun producing
their fruit, while many bushes had already filled themselves with berries. Streams here flowed
plentiful.
When traveling alone Proklis felt safest traveling at night and sleeping during daylight. If he
had to risk the chance of a night crawler ambush, he wanted to be awake for it.
Proklis had not heard the Moon speak for days now, since he had not yet used the power she
had already sent him. Just as he had vowed. Looking past his torch through the canopy into the
star-strewn sky, he thought about his first iron vow. He didn’t remember much before it. He had
been so young. He remembered watercress and reeds by the pond’s edge. He remembered
chasing tadpoles and the innocence of youth.
And he remembered cold darkness suddenly engulfing his head. Nothingness below, fading
light and his breath fleeing above. He remembered flailing pointlessly, feeling his splayed fingers
moving with no resistance, and his kicks from knee-to-chest moving no water. As an adult he
assumed he must have sunk for only seconds, but as a child he felt as if the burning in his lungs
intensified over an eternity.
The sunlight above, he recalled, shimmered as a shadow passed over him. A form plunged in
after him with a rolling burst of bubbles. The silhouette of wings flared and a long neck reached
down to him. He reached out. Proklis remembered his desperate gasp when the water broke, and
35
streams of white froth flowing on either side of him as a blue-grey crane carried him on her back,
skimming the shining pond. And then a deep golden crane soared down alongside, flying just
behind her wing and kept pace. He remembered laying on the muddy ground, gasping as the
great, ashen bird waited in the tall weeds, watching him with interest. His child’s mind didn’t
have the words to express his intense gratitude. Nor did he have the words when next the bird
slipped a lumpy, torus-shaped piece of iron into his cupped hands. His iron vow was struck in
the very next moment. A vow, a promise, an agreement, a gift, all without the need of words. It
was after that that the Moon began to teach him how to bind her powers to him.
The Oracle: Undertake a Journey result:

8 (4+3+1) vs. 9 and 10 Miss…
The stars traced across the sky, marking the hours. The soil here, filled with clay and gravel,
sank and slid beneath his boots. The ground had collected the many days of weighty rain. Both
loam and craggy boulders supported these uneven woods filling Proklis’ hike with both steep
steps up and short drops down. The torch’s intense light cast deep shadows in the hollows and
crevices he passed. And it seemed it wasn’t keeping the night crawlers far off. He could hear them
crunching through the woods, pushing through the underbrush with mindless drive. Their
presence unnerved Proklis. He worried that if there were enough of them, they would ford the
light.
Proklis nimbly ducked off his current path and up a few lichened boulders. He lowered his
torch down behind the rocks to hide the light, making the shadows in front of him more
enticing. He watched, and waited.
!Action +3 Wits. Secure an Advantage by utilizing the terrain.
White bones, picked clean by the beetles they slept among, stepped out of the brush and close
to the rocks. They looked for their missing prey. Proklis recognized one as the bones of a moose,
another the bones of a large fox, and the last the bones of an elf.
The Ironsworn nestled his torch into the space between two rocks so that it wouldn’t roll
away and set the forest ablaze. The shifts in shadows alerted the night crawlers, confusing them.
Proklis unsheathed his sword.

6 (3+3) vs. 1 and 2 Strong Hit!
!Action +3 Wits. Battle quickly, outwitting the night crawlers.
The Ironsworn leapt down towards the skeletal moose, his sword smashing the vertebrae, and
sending the skull and antlers into the mud. The creature reared back, but Proklis shattered its
ribs, turned towards the skull, and drove the point of the blade through the middle and into the
36
ground. He stepped on the antlers and yanked the sword free, and immediately split the skull of
the fox. The elf night crawler screeched a ghostly wail, clasped its fists together, and bludgeoned
Proklis across the ribs and onto the ground. He yelled, pain shooting through his not-fully-
healed wound. With a heavy swing, his sword splintered the elf’s femur, sending the creature
scattering to the ground.
Proklis regained his feet, grimacing, and broke the elven skull.
He groaned. He held his side, but with the leather tunic between him and the wound, he did
not feel the blood. Proklis carefully climbed back up the boulders and retrieved his torch.
In a Fray, the Foe’s ferocity must be measured and contended with.

But in a quick fight such as this, a Battle can be determined—for better or worse—with a
singular result.
The Oracle: Battle result:

Proklis takes 1 harm; -1 Health; 1/5.
!Action +2 Iron. Endure Harm.

The Oracle: Endure Harm
Proklis ignores it.
Vow to Heal progress reduced to 2/10.
No progress was made on Journey; 0/10.
!Action +3 Wits. Journey on.
Short nights were a benefit of traveling alone in the summer. He had been hiking only six
hours when black night began to fade to navy blue in the east.
Proklis moved dead branches from a dry spot and cleared the ground a bit. He dropped his
pack and sat next to it. Uncinching the top, he pulled out his waterskin and set it in his lap, then
pushed aside the flint to get to the bandages. He wanted to keep his wound dry and clean.
Proklis pulled his tunic over his head. “Ah!” he gasped at a stab of pain.
He saw over the entire side of his shirt a massive, brown blood stain.
“Well, fuck.” He got his shirt off and peeled his bandages away to check the stitches. A couple
had ripped but not really enough that he would need to re-stitch them. Proklis pressed a clean
bandage to his side.
37
The supplies Proklis packed will help. -1 Supply; 2/5.
!Action +2 Iron. Heal.

Proklis has to bull through the pain of treating his own wounds.
He had tended to wounds in the wild dozens of times, including ones worse than this, and
including tending to his own on his own. But, as he tried to wrap a bandage around his torso to
secure the first one in place, he moved just so that pain spasmed through him. He cringed so
hard that he dropped the bandage. It slipped off him, and so did the one pressed against the cuts.
They fell in the leaves and dirt.
“Piss, blood, guts,” Proklis growled. He carefully shifted his weight to dig through his pack.
He dug around again.

His eyes darted over the supplies. Where were the rest of the bandages? He pushed things
around. He took everything out one by one. He checked once again. Nothing. He had no more.
Proklis ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, drawing some of it away from his ponytail.
He sighed heavily. “Okay.”
Though tired, he grabbed his cooking pot and went in search of water.
!Action +3 Wits. Resupply.
Proklis followed a small stream that led to a duck pond. He gathered some berries along the
way and a few duck eggs there, as well. On his way back he filled his waterskin and the cooking
pot, but the effort taxed him. He hadn’t rested, and his cuts stung in the open air.
The Oracle: Resupply result:

Proklis gains +1 Supply at the cost of -1 Momentum.
This Complication as he tried to Heal battered him ragged. -1 Health; 0/5.
!Action +2 Iron. Endure Harm

Proklis deals with what’s in front of him. +1 Momentum; 3/10.
38
!Action +4 Supply. Make Camp.
Instead of just napping in a dry spot, Proklis cleared an area large enough that a small fire
wouldn’t be much risk.
Once the largest piece of wood had become a chunk of gleaming coals, Proklis set the small
pot on top it and stuffed the bloody bandages under the sloshing water.
Proklis boiled the bandages and hung them to dry. He then dumped the pot of water, gave it a
small rinse and set it over the coals again. He stoked the fire a bit. He poured in a small pouch of
rice and covered it with fresh water. He ate the berries as the rice cooked and, when it was nearly
done, he cracked the eggs over it and let them steam in the heat.
Proklis pulled the pot off the fire and sat it in front of him. He broke the yolk with his
chopsticks and mixed the golden, runny, beautiful egg in with the rice.
By the time he’d finished eating, the bandages had dried in the heat. With food on his
stomach and fresh bandages over his wound, he smothered the fire and lay in the grass for some
much-needed sleep.
The Oracle: Make Camp result:

Recuperate: +1 Health; 1/5.
Vow to Heal before using Bind progress is still only 2/10.
Proklis rested the whole day, foraging around just enough to fill up on berries and nuts, and
enjoying the sound of the songbirds throughout the canopy.
When evening’s light began to test his eyes, he packed up, struck flint and steel atop another
torch, and began again.
The Weak Hit made his trip a bit more difficult, but nonetheless he is making his way.
Journey progress 3/10.
!Action +3 Wits. Undertake a Journey while reminiscing.
!Ask the Oracle: Ironlander Names

The Oracle:
Ironlander Name [52] Lago
Ironlander Name [149] Menna
Ironlander Name [67] Gwen Gwyn
Ironlander Name [156] Okoth
!Ask the Oracle: Character Goal

The Oracle:
Character Goal [54] Collect a debt
39
The clouds above hampered his navigation, but throughout his life Proklis had never been
lost for long.
He’d grown up on the move. Every day he and his brother, Gwyn, played in the wilderness,
guided by their mother and father. They followed animal tracks, and explored around the terrain,
and slung rocks at apples, and had contests for who could gather the most types of food; the two
kids didn’t even realize how these games, for their parents, were a way of life. Lago and Menna,
his father and mother, were both a particular kind of Ironsworn: vow adopters. They wandered
from town to town in search of Ironsworn who had forsaken a vow. They wanted to relieve them
of their guilt. Many of the vows they adopted had been forsaken for good reason, such as the oft
murderous vows of vengeance. His parents had said everyone dies one day. So, they took on the
vow in the phrase that the person marked for vengeance “will die.” They often used creative
phrasing to complete seemingly impossible or otherwise immoral tasks. The Ironsworn whom
they took these burdens from knew the play of words, yet felt the relief all the same. The vows
were no longer theirs to carry.
Just as many of their vows, however, did require legitimate action. During his fourteenth
winter and spring Proklis learned archery, sword fighting, and polearms because his parents had
taken on the vow of an Ironsworn who had given up hope of ending the constant raiding of a
village by a rival clan.
The Ironsworn, Okoth, had been skilled but simply taken on too great a task. Together the
vow adopters and Okoth taught the people how to use common tools as effective weapons. They
taught them how to seal horn to wood to make bows. The shucking parties of the fall turned to
fletching parties through the winter with song and stories and jam with hot bread.
Everyone was encouraged to learn, but when the actual fighting began to loom, Proklis had
not been allowed to join. His father, his mother, Gwyn and Okoth fought alongside the village
adults. Proklis and the other children were sent to fish far up stream for the day. He didn’t
understand then, but Proklis knew now how bad it could have been… the slaughter that could
have happened, the retribution for the audacity of resistance that could have been turned on the
children.
But as a child, walking back to the village with baskets full of trout, catfish, and bass, it
seemed natural to find cheers and drinking and no wounds at all. Apparently, the rival clan had
decided this village was now too much of a hassle to raid.
Proklis smiled at those memories while he walked through the Deep Wilds, his torch casting
long shadows and the sounds of night becoming dominated by frog calls as light rain began to
patter the leaves above.
Proklis had lived twenty-two winters when his parents stopped traveling and built them all a
home near Cherrybeck, a village nestled between beautiful hills. Gwyn immediately began
training with a sword and shield. He left not long after to become a knight. He said he planned to
be a knight errant rather than a knight in service. He wanted to travel from land to land, giving
aid where needed.
40
It took only two summers for Proklis himself to start to feel the pull of travel in his heart. He
left his parents, who were very happy in their new home, grateful that he would always know
where to go to see them again.
Backstory
Bonds
Lago and Menna:
Father and mother.
Gwyn:
Older brother by six
years.
His torch began to spit and hiss as the rain picked up. The dense forest usually gave enough
protection against the weather that a large torch still proved successful at pushing back the night
crawlers. Thunder rumbled. The sound of the rain against leaves intensified far off and within
minutes had reached him.

5 (2+3) vs. 10 and 9 Miss
!Action +3 Wits. Face Danger and find shelter.
Proklis ducked down into the first outcropping he saw. If he pushed his back against the
muddy rock, he had enough room to set his torch down in front of him, out of the rain. Proklis
quickly gathered dead brush before it got too soaked and made a tiny fire beneath the wedge of
earth. He extinguished his torch to save it and tended the fire. Feeling rather safe there in that
hollow, he dozed until dawn.
Proklis let himself fully sleep when the sun rose, too exhausted to really care about lying in
this wet dirt. He woke in the afternoon, found a stream, and washed his face, hands, and arms.
He collected a pouch full of summer almonds, and crunched off the shells and ate while he
walked.
He didn’t think about the muddy water that had soaked into his shirt.

The rain slowed him down a bit. -1 Momentum; 2/10.
!Action +3 Wits. Undertake a Journey by hiking through part of the day.

7 (4+3) vs. 9 and 8 Miss…
41

Late in the afternoon he heard rushing water. Proklis turned towards the sound and followed
the forest slope down.
The stream, swollen from last night’s rain, rushed over rocks and logs. Proklis took the
opportunity to fill his waterskin and wash the sweat from his face. He rested by the water under a
tree that seemed to be losing ground to the river; its roots twisted along the stone and black dirt.
As he watched the white rapids and the glint of fish beneath them, he contemplated his next
move. He had no reason to cross the river. It seemed much better to follow it downstream;
people settle near water. After a decent break, he began walking along the river’s edge. The
summer sun snuck between the wind-swept leaves. In the dappled shade, the heat could not
dishearten him.
The river grew wider at its bends and narrowed into rapid currents often. It looked deep. The
rocks it crashed around dominated the landscape here. Proklis often found himself having to
guess if he needed to circumvent these twenty-foot cliffs closer or farther from the river. As
expected, he eventually guessed wrong and followed the river too close until he hit a dead end.
He sighed. His first instinct was to turn back and go around, and his second instinct was to
see if he could find a way to just clamber up the wall. It didn’t take too long for him to spot a
section that was only ten or so feet high. Proklis turned towards the steep shelf, took one step up
on a rock, and instantly looked up into the eyes of a large brown bear staring down at him from
the ground above.
Terror prickled down his neck. Proklis slowly took that step back again. He raised his palms.
“Hey there, friend.”
He stepped to the side, keeping his movements calm, getting out from between it and the
river. He knew most bears generally wanted to be left alone, and if they were used to people, they
knew to avoid things that spoke.
He continued in low, gentle tones, “Just passing though.”
The creature sniffed, ears back. “Hrooff.”
“Didn’t mean to bother you.” Proklis slowly backed away.
!Action +3 Wits. Face Danger and slowly disengage from it.

4 (1+3) vs. 7 and 10 Miss
Proklis’ weight pressed down on a slick rock. It buckled beneath his foot, making his boot
slide over the river’s edge; Proklis flailed to his knees to keep from falling in! The bear bellowed
and retaliated.
!Action +3 Wits. Enter the Fray and try not to get mauled immediately.
42
Foe: Only a Scared Bear. ((What’s the ranking for a bear in the rulebook? …Oh no.))
Formidable. (Inflicts -3 Health per Harm.)

5 (2+3) vs. 8 and 7 Miss
((…Oh no.))
Proklis pulled himself off the rapid’s edge, throwing himself to the side, and out of the corner
of his eye he saw the swipe of the bear’s claws only barely just striking nothing but air. The poor
beast attacked so frantically that it fell from the ledge towards Proklis. He scrambled away as the
terrified creature leaned to its back paws with a guttural roar. Proklis rushed to his feet only to
feel claws tear through his shoulder. With a miserable cry Proklis ducked away, turning his back
to the bear so that its teeth clamped down on his backpack instead of him.
Proklis has only 1/5 Health so, when this poor bear inflicts -3 per Harm, his Health is
reduced to 0/5 and his Momentum drains next; -2 Momentum; 0/10.
The Miss forces Proklis to fight defensively.

Don’t collapse now.
He hit the ground hard, his breath seizing in his chest. He followed his instinct to curl
underneath his pack for protection.

4 (1+2) vs. 4 and 10 Miss…
The bear ripped open his pack. Proklis grabbed his belt, trying to draw the sword!
Proklis: -1 Supply; 2/5.
Proklis scrambled, and slammed the sheath against the bear’s nose as he pulled the sword
from it!

Proklis inflicts 1 harm; battle progress 1/10. But it’s a Weak Hit; -1 Momentum; -1/10.
43
Proklis needs to regain an advantage or he is going to die! He has one chance to risk
everything. Turn the Tide of battle.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Turn the Tide.
Proklis struggled against the straps of his pack as the bear jerked it around in its mouth, the
contents flying! Proklis tried to slip out, tried to get some semblance of balance! He pulled one
arm out of the pack. The bear twisted and ripped the fabric open, and Proklis found himself
looking right up at the enormous animal. He fully believed he could get away…
The Oracle: Turn the Tide result:

9 (6+2+1) vs. 10 and 9 Miss
…But the next attack fell right on his legs.

The bear stomped and bellowed! And Proklis screamed when pain deep in his lower leg
snapped.
Proklis: Health 0/5. -3 Momentum; -4/10.
The Oracle: Endure Harm

5 (3+2) vs. 9 and 6 Miss
Debility: Wounded.
!Action +2 Iron. Clash to survive.
The straight sword jabbed into the bear’s thick pelt, bright red blood immediately soaking the
fur! Proklis screamed as he rushed to his feet despite his broken leg!
As the bear roared in pain, Proklis’ gaze snapped to the river. He lunged for the water.
The Oracle: Clash

!Action +1 Edge. Face Danger!
44
The bear champed onto the torn fabric of his pack and Proklis hit the rocks, the rapids
splashing so close to his face!
Proklis saw the blood from his shoulder streaming down into the water. He took a deep
breath, sliced the belt of his pack, and rolled into the rushing current.
Proklis’ Momentum is -4, and the Oracle gives him 4 luck. This match causes the luck to
collapse and he is left to face fate alone:

5 (4+1) vs. 8 and 10 Miss
1 (0+1) vs. 8 and 10 Miss
-1 Supply; 1/5.
Proklis had inflicted only 3 Harm—battle progress 3/10—before he fled the battle…
…into a river.
!Action +2 Iron. Face Danger.
Proklis held onto the sword, swimming hard to force his head above water. He let the current
drag him down towards the middle of the river and away from the boulders. His head broke the
water again, and he stole a gasp of air before the rapids sucked him beneath the surface. The river
roared when he could reach above water, and the water rushed in waves of bubbles when he
suffered the burning in his lungs. The moment the river widened, Proklis turned his body
towards the slower currents near the far bank. He reached out desperately and grabbed onto a
boulder. The water ripped his grip away, but he had managed to force his momentum towards
the edge of the river at the shallower point. Proklis grabbed at more rocks, heaving all his
strength into getting his elbow up on one! And finally, he pulled himself halfway onto land.
Proklis coughed, and sputtered, and gasped in pain. He pulled himself further out of the
river, blood and water streaming down his tunic. He got a knee up; the moment his leg touched
the rock, he screamed in agony and collapsed onto his chest.
Proklis breathed through gritted teeth. He listened to his heavy breaths. He focused on his
grip on the sword, his wet clothes clinging to him. He allowed himself to lie there. He allowed the
pain to be… accepted it.
His breaths began to quiver, and eventually calm.
Finally, he put his hand beneath him and pushed himself up.
He clenched his jaw but continued to breathe. He righted himself so he could sit. Proklis
sheathed his sword and, still heaving heavy breaths, took inventory: leather tunic, two leather
belts—one for the tunic, one for the scabbard—linen shirt, linen pants with a cinch, underwear
with a cinch, two pouches on the one belt, scabbard and sword on the other, sturdy shoes. He
checked if anything in the pouches survived the river. Nothing.
Proklis looked around him. Woods. Fresh water. Clear skies.
45
Dangerous Vow: Fully heal before using Bind progress: 0/10.
!Action +3 Wits. Secure an Advantage: Okay. What now?

5 (2+3) vs. 6 and 7 Miss
((No...))
Proklis stared off into the forest nearby him, his breath still panting, his chest still stinging.
He wiped the water off his face, and pulled his long hair which had fallen free of the tie away his
eyes and off his neck. First, he needed to find wood for a splint and set his broken leg. The
Ironsworn carefully propped himself against a boulder, standing with all his weight on his good
leg. Dripping, bleeding, and hoping, he tested some of his weight on his broken leg.
Proklis growled and hesitated, but then pushed against the pain and limped into the woods.
His hand reached out, tree to tree. The gashes across his shoulder and the torn stitches in his
side were hardly noticeable amidst the sharp bolts of pain shooting up his shin. Proklis focused
on his breaths.
He limped as far as he could, searching for a hunk of wood strong enough to act as a splint or
at least a crutch. But with such a rainy summer, so much of the wood was rotting, food for fungi
and grubs. He forced himself to search on. But there were fallen, rotting trees in every direction.
Weak branches and splintered wood covered the forest. He stood against a tree, surveying the
uniformity of soft wood throughout.
“Fuck this.” Proklis unbuckled his tunic and pulled the belt and pouches off of him. He then
pulled his tunic over his head. He slid carefully down, sitting with his leg out in front of him. He
breathed heavily through his nose and wiped his soaked hair from his determined eyes.
Proklis slipped the two leather pouches off his main belt, but as he was about to slip them
onto the belt with his scabbard, he paused. The Ironsworn grabbed the scabbard, pulled the
sword off the second belt, and placed the leather between his teeth. Proklis wrapped the tunic
around his leg, pulled the belt under his calf, and set the end through the buckle. He took three
deep breaths…
Proklis screamed through clenched teeth as he tightened the belt as hard as he could! He
wrapped the belt a second time, took a breath. Proklis screamed, sobbed, and tucked the belt into
itself. He wrapped it once more and tucked it firmly. He took a moment, his heart thundering
against his chest.
Proklis leaned back on the tree, standing with the trunk for support. He tested his weight.
The pain was on the edge of tolerable. That would have to do.
46
He looked around the trees and thick brush gently wavering in the breeze. The sun already
tilted deeply into the western sky. The Ironsworn had no torch. He had no flint. He had no fight
left in him. And night was heading closer.
Proklis: -2 Momentum; -5/10. Spirit 5/5.
Proklis buckled his sword back onto his hips. “We’re not done yet.”
!Action +3 Wits. Resupply.

The Oracle: Resupply result:
He unsheathed the blade and limped straight into the brush, a glower of determination in his
earth-brown eyes. Honeysuckle flourished here; Proklis quickly identified elderberries and began
hacking. Unlike raspberries and blackberries, elderberries did not have thorns. He gathered
armfuls of severed branches and dragged them to a small overhang near the river. He packed the
branches against the stone wall and went back for more. Soon he had built a nest of food to hide
behind as night began to fall. Using the sword to help, he ripped his shirt into strips and wrapped
the cloth around the gashes over his shoulder and around his ribs. If nothing else, it would keep
the flies off.
Proklis: +2 Supply; 3/5 total. He needs supplies to Make Camp. And he needs to Make
Camp to Prepare for tomorrow.
!Action +3 Supply; Make Camp.

Proklis crawled inside his den to hide from the night crawlers behind the elderberry
branches. He laid there picking at the tart berries and finally sleeping. He still had no idea how
far he had to go.
Prepare: +1 to Undertake a Journey.
He woke well after noon. Proklis laid there, watching bugs crawl around the elderberry
leaves. His head pounded, the summer felt cold; a fever raged within him. It was not unexpected.
From the looks of his wounds the infection had taken hold in his old, stitched gash.
He sighed and pulled himself out of the brush. He drank from the river, and ate what berries
he could stomach despite his illness, and once again took in the woods around him. Though
choked with honeysuckle brush, the terrain sloped gently with the river. Plentiful shade
47
overcame the summer sun. The calm clouds passing overhead looked like they held no rain. The
river roared.
“Okay.”
!Action +3 Wits. Secure an Advantage to determine the best path to hike.

Bears aside, Proklis knew following the river still provided him with the best chance of
finding civilization. And following the slope would help him from... well, collapsing. He didn’t
have to follow the river so closely this time. He could follow the sound of it.
Proklis: +1 Momentum -4/10.
“Let’s go.”
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Prepared. Undertake a Journey along the river... again.

9 (5+3+1) vs. 9 and 10 Miss
((What. The. Actual. Fuck.))
As the day’s heat grew relentless, so did Proklis’ chills during this eternity of a hike. He did
finally find what he had hoped for. It took a keen and constant eye out, but eventually he found a
tree that had fallen into the sunlight here on the river rocks. No moss or grubs cared for the
unforgiving heat there. Proklis managed to hack off a sturdy branch that could work very well as
a crutch.
But, of course, he traveled so slow.
Having to resort to hiding through the night, he knew he’d have to suffer the painful hike
through the summer days. The heat and his nausea dizzied him.
As he walked, Proklis held his iron charm in his hand. He missed his Elmhollow friends. He
missed Sutahe. He missed his mother.
Proklis: -1 Spirit, 4/5.
!Action +4 Spirit. Endure Stress.

The Oracle: Endure Stress result:
6 (2+4) vs. 6 and 10 Miss…
Proklis: -1 Momentum; -5/10.
48
Proklis couldn’t hike long enough for the shadows to begin to lengthen. He needed rest. A
somewhat hollow spot underneath a juniper bush which looked like it could hide him well. He
didn’t bother to forage. With the fever and pain, he felt too sick to eat. There he rested until the
brightest stars broke through the navy skies in the east. He sat deep beneath the low branches,
listening for bones wandering through the brush. But from sheer exhaustion, he fell into restless
sleep.
!Action +3 Wits. Undertake a Journey and hope for a miracle…
Proklis woke in daylight and pulled himself out from under the juniper. Immediately, he
looked about, thinking he somehow had gotten turned around the day before. Then he quickly
realized though he’d expected the sun to be in the east, he had actually slept most the day away.
He wasn’t turned around; noon has simply passed him by.
At the river, he washed the sweat from him. The cool water actually helped with his chills. He
tried to drink. He looked down the river, got up, and went back into the woods.
He listened, and kept an eye out.
He walked for hours, keeping the river to his right. Eventually the sun shone just along the
top of the trees behind his left shoulder. It was about time for another juniper, or den.
But it was then that Proklis noticed a break in the trees ahead. It seemed like nothing at first,
but at the sight of unusually compressed dirt, a moment of desperate hope struck him. He looked
across the woods. It was hardly a deer path. But it was still a path. He began to follow it.
The trail faded often, and he searched for more clues, following his instinct as much as
anything. As he tracked, he felt more confident; it led along the river still, through clearer terrain
with better grass, obviously a place perfect for light hunting. And then, the path led away from
the prime terrain, up a bit of a slope, towards a cleared but shady spot. He followed it. And there
in the middle of the trees, he found a stone ring filled with ashes.
A weathered log was rolled up next to it. The stone nestled into the dirt nearby was too tall
for a human to sit on, but it was the perfect size for an eight- to nine-foot-tall elf.
He limped over to the campsite, tears rolling down his face. The ashes in the fire pit were
matted and pocked. No one had been here in at least... he tried to remember how long since the
rain before the bear attack... three days?
He sat on the log and held his aching head.
He had maybe an hour before dark.
“I can do this.” He held his iron charm. “I can track them home.”

49
Journey progress 6/10. Proklis bets everything on this plan. He will either reach civilization
or become horrifically lost.
!Action Reach Your Destination.
He found gravelly dirt where the ground had been trodden flat. He followed the trail, seeing
less grass along portions. He noticed a shrub that looked as if it had healed up from a clean hack;
someone had been annoyed by pushing it away every time they passed. He started to see many
more fruit trees and berry bushes as he continued on. Proklis’ breath scraped in his chest as he
followed the guidance.
Evening crept in.
He smelled cooking fires.
The Oracle: Reach Your Destination result:

!Ask the Oracle: Settlement Name

The Oracle:
Settlement Name [11] A feature of the landscape
Settlement Name [70] Deepwater
The tree line broke. A massive cliffside basin fell deep into the landscape. He looked out over
the cyclopean hole, the evening shadows falling across the white stone within. Carved along the
vertical walls sat a city of stone. The river roared over the cliff’s edge into a waterfall that plunged
into the shimmering lake below, expansive and clear. Well-tended corn and rice grew on splayed
terrace farms. White chert arches adorned stone pathways that wove in and out of the cliffside.
Elves moved about stone homes and fora, socializing, trading food and wares, gathering their
families for an evening meal.
Proklis walked towards the cliffs in awe. Across the miles and miles of city below, in multiple
spots roads sloped down from here through the sculpted tiers, along back and forth all the way to
the lakeside.
His heart rushed. He’d never seen such a large community. He’d never seen such a feat of
architectural magnificence.
He approached one of the roads that led down. It had been carved directly from the stone,
railing and arches and all.
Proklis began down the wide ramp, holding the railing and managing the steepness well
enough on his crutch.
He entered the outskirts of the town just as twilight began to fade.
“Hey, look. Is that human okay?”
Proklis looked over at a small group of elves. They wore sturdy, well mended, dirt-stained
clothes. The farmers came from the direction of the terraces. One wore a rhinoceros mask, his
skin like smooth redwood. Another’s mask depicted the face of a frog, and he had skin similar to
50
oak bark. Another wore her hair long, twisted back with vines. Yet another seemed younger, his
bark similar to ash wood. They all carried packs of vegetables. They stared.
Proklis leaned against one of the pillars of the intricately carved arches. “Hello, gentlefolk.”
Proklis drew pained breaths. “My name is Proklis. I’m a traveler. Is there a place in this town
where paupers are allowed to sleep and heal?”
They only stared, then shared glances of confusion, stunned by the sight of this stranger,
shirtless, leg bound with a belt, dirty bloody bandages wrapped over his shoulder and ribs,
muddy, barely standing, carrying a sword! But despite it all, he gave them a genuinely kind, if
pained smile.
!Action +2 Heart, +1 Reach Your Destination Strong Hit. Sojourn in an elven city.
Proklis seeks help, or at least safety.

“...No,” the young farmer said, confusion in his voice as if the very idea of a poorhouse made
no sense.
The redwood elf stepped forward. “Yes. At my home.”
He looked from one companion to the next. “Help me carry him there?”
The woman with vines in her hair, and a mask that Proklis now recognized as a lioness,
nodded. “I’ll carry him first,” she offered.
She handed her bag of vegetables to the frog-masked elf, and knelt down, looking over her
shoulder. Too grateful to be embarrassed, Proklis climbed upon her back, and held on. He
cringed heavily as he laid against his wounds.
“Holly and oak!” she exclaimed. “Are humans usually this warm?”
Natural striations ran along the pale chert walls of the elven city. The larger roads overlooked
the lake. Stone buildings, decorated with wood and bright cloth, encircled the forum that they
passed through. There were very few people around as it became dark. The streets had quite
nearly emptied. The elves took turns carrying him, but it didn’t take long before the man with the
rhinoceros mask opened his front door, which had a beautifully woven geometric charm hanging
over it.
For homes carved right into rock, the inside felt anything but cave-like. Elegant quilts and
pillows adorned the driftwood furniture. A poplar wood door in the back of the living room led
further into the home. Horn-shaped candles affixed to the walls breathed out a comfortable glow.
The air inside felt much cooler than the summer heat outside; nevertheless the hearth was not lit.
On the table a salad, a bowl filled with a mixture of beans, and a loaf of dark bread were laid out.
First, after entering his home, the redwood elf set a black yarn blanket near the hearth. The
ash wood teen, who had taken the last turn carrying him through town, knelt and gently slid the
51
battered human off his back; the redwood elf explained the situation to his partner and eldest
child.
The lioness-masked woman sat near Proklis and gently laid him onto her shoulder, holding
him up. It was not unusual, Proklis knew, for elves to hold one another, even strangers. They
were incredibly social and simply found it normal to lean against each other, hug often, and even
sleep in piles intertwined together.
“Head home,” the redwood elf told his other companions. “We will care for him.”
They embraced one another, saying a few words of farewell. One affectionately scratched the
back of the other’s head as they hugged, and they went their separate ways, home to their
families. Only the lioness stayed.
An elf with smooth bark and a dogwood-flower mask knelt by the human, too. Proklis
cringed and then gasped as the elf peeled away the sticky bandage wrapped over his stitches.
The woman holding him brushed his matted hair away from his face. “You’re fine...”
The other, looking at his wound, cringed. “Child!”
Proklis’ head tilted against the lioness’ shoulder. He had survived twenty-eight winters so far.
But then, that was still a child to some.
!Ask the Oracle: Elf Names

The Oracle:
Elf Names [62] Retenay
Elf Names [45] Gamanna Gemmana
Elf Names [11] Balathu
“Gemmana?” the dogwood-masked elf called over to the young girl scooping cold beans into
her bowl. The kid looked up, her squirrel-faced mask looking equally surprised and curious.
“Would you please fetch Balathu?”
“Um...” she looked from her bowl to the door. She shoveled three spoonfuls of food under
her mask and into her mouth, grabbed a slice of bread, and ran out the door.
Orange-green eyes turned back to the human, looking at him with gentle concern through
the dogwood mask. “I am Retenay.”
“Proklis,” he said between heavy breaths. “Thank you... for such generosity. I am not very
familiar with elven culture. ... Please forgive me if I...”
“Hushh...” Retenay laid a comforting hand on Proklis cheek, but paused there. “Are humans
normally this warm?”
The Lioness chuckled.
Retenay glanced over at their husband, who ladled a cloudy, orange liquid from a large
earthenware vat into a bowl. He mixed a clear liquid from a glass jar in.
“Do we have shell?” Retenay asked.
“Hm, good idea.” He looked through the small jars along a shelf near the cooking pots and
baskets of vegetables. He sprinkled quite a bit of brown powder into the bowl and stirred. He
joined the other two by the human and handed him the bowl.
Proklis took a large swallow but immediately sputtered.
52
“Drink it anyway,” the redwood elf told him. The apple juice could not fully mask the strong
bitterness of the medicine. The powdered shells didn’t seem to have any flavor at all.
Proklis’ nausea immediately began to calm.
By the time the child, Gemmana, returned with Balathu, the pain had begun to ebb. Proklis’
breaths were like that of one drifting in and out of sleep. Balathu, a man with smooth, dark
cherry bark and a mask carved into the shape of a catfish’s face got more of the story from the
others. Then, he knelt down by the human.
“Traveler?” Balathu urged. Proklis’ eyes opened. “I am Balathu. I’d like to look at your
wounded leg, and clean the gashes in your skin.”
Proklis’ eyes fell shut.
“Perhaps for the best,” Balathu said, deep empathy in his voice. Balathu untucked the belt
around Proklis’ leg.
The human jolted upright, gritting his teeth, suppressing cries of pain! His hand gripped a
fistful of the blanket to resist his every urge to clutch his leg as Balathu unwrapped the belt. The
lioness elf gently took his wrists in her hands and crossed his arms over his chest. She leaned him
back on her again and caringly hugged him from behind. “You’re safe...” Her voice soothed him.
“You’re safe.”

Proklis woke as a cool, wet cloth wiped over his face. He now lay on his back. The pain in his
leg wasn’t so harsh now that the bone was properly set and bandaged. Balathu cut at the old
stitches on Proklis’ side.
Let the pain be, he thought to himself.
Proklis focused on his surroundings... The sound of water dripping from the rag into the
bowl. The cold, wet cloth wiping over his skin. The tugging of the stitches—
The flutter of the flames… the light by which the elves cared for him. The smell of melting
beeswax. The blade scraping putrefaction from his wound—!
Proklis focused inwardly. Accept that you’re in pain. This is where you are. The wet cloth... the
smell of the fire... the dead flesh—
He clenched his jaw, turning his head away. He heard glass click against glass. Balathu’s voice
told him, “Breathe deep.”
Proklis gasped. The smell of spice and alcohol, so strong he could taste it, filled his lungs. He
felt his neck and shoulders relax, and he felt as if he were falling asl—…
53
Strike and Secure an Advantage are offensive.
Clash and Face Danger are defensive.
54
To Sojourn is to rest somewhere safe which can give many benefits such as recuperating,
calming stress, or even looking for the chance to Provide Aid…
…as Ironsworn oft do.
55
Proklis
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lago and Menna:
Father and mother.
Health Spirit Supply Retired Ironsworn.
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 Gwyn:
Wounded Older brother by 6
years. Now a knight.
Vows The Moon:
Binds her power to
Proklis.
The Moon: Epic
Elmhollow:
(Background vow)
Hunting camp in the
Deep Wilds.
Sutahe:
A skilled hunt leader.
Sutahe: Dangerous
All progress for this vow has been lost.
56
Proklis
Bind
Empowered
(Unique to Proklis)
Brawler Slayer
improvised weapon:
• (Background Combat Talent.)
57
Session 4: Deepwater
The next few days were spent in and out of delirium. His hosts always kept a wooden cup by
him with cold water. They fed him rice and brothy soups made with crushed beans, leafy
vegetables, onions, and salt. The family cat often slept curled up next to him.
Today, he woke with the young girl sitting on the edge of the hearth, watching him. She wore
a colorful dress with flowing, decorated sleeves and her mask looked like a squirrel’s wide-eyed
face. She cuddled a tiny, swaddled, sleeping elf. “Your hair is straight, but your beard is curly,”
she stated.
He smiled.
“The other human folk want to meet you,” she added.
Proklis sat up and drank the water by him.
“But Poppy won’t let them. He says you should recover more first.” She rocked the baby
cradled to her shoulder.
“Poppy?” Proklis asked.
“My dad?” She made it sound obvious.
“Oh.” Proklis sat with his elbows on his knees. All of his clothes had been ruined so they had
dressed him in a skirt that would have been ankle-length for an elf. It fell well past his feet.
“Not Poppy, the lady who makes honey cakes,” she corrected herself. “I don’t know her. Just
her cakes. What’s your name?”
“Proklis. What’s yours?”
“Gemmana. Want to hold Same?”
“Yes.”
Gemmana passed the baby into Proklis’ arms. The infant elf was so big Proklis could barely
wrap his arms around them. He cradled the baby on his lap, holding the child in the crook of his
arm, their head against his shoulder.
It was the first time Proklis had looked at an elf’s face. The baby had no bark over their face.
Their skin looked more like the inside of a fresh cut sapling. Proklis brushed the back of his
finger over the child’s cheek. Elven faces looked so much more humanoid than he’d expected.
The only difference was the slightly larger eyes.
“Why did you name them Same?” he asked.
“Because we look the same. I said so when they were born.” Gemmana leaned over to look at
the baby. Her curly, sky-blue hair fell in Proklis’ face. “Baba, Poppy, and I have been talking
about another name for them,” she went on. She turned to Proklis, her violet eyes peeping out
from behind the thick mask. “They called me Turtle for a long time. My parents did; not Same.”
She rested her chin on the human’s shoulder and ran a thin finger down her sibling’s round
forehead to their tiny nose.
Proklis hugged the sleeping baby.
58
The Ironsworn felt stronger each passing day. He began weaving baskets to pass the time.
Retenay and Valadin, the redwood elf with the rhinoceros mask, received old clothes from their
neighbor whose child had outgrown them. They made adjustments for Proklis’ human
proportions, which worked better than any of them had expected. The linen pants were soft from
being worn often, but sturdy and well kept. The shirt, however, was made of cotton! Proklis had
never worn anything so soft. Colorful thread adorned the collar and sleeves, and it flowed with
the summer wind.
Now able to attend more to his appearance, he plucked out his beard until his face and neck
were smooth, and he combed and secured his black hair back in a ponytail.
He ate at the table with the family. The height difference wasn’t too difficult. Gemmana
herself was only a few inches taller than him. The two teased one another. Since he kept his eyes
shut during the meal, she would steal bread off his plate and place it over his cup like a lid. He
made faces at her, and from the pauses between her giggles assumed she made faces back.
Retenay and Valadin laughed at their fun.
They had cared for him for so long that they had grown fond of him.
Proklis’s Sojourn:
Mend: Wounded cleared. +1 Health; 1/5.
Recuperate: +2 Health; 3/5 total.
Troublesome vow: Heal completely before using Bind progress 6/10.
!Action +2 Heart. Sojourn longer in Deepwater.
!Ask the Oracle: Elf Name

The Oracle:
Elf Names [90] Ereshki
This elven city, named Deepwater, was home to about 5,000 people. Humans were a
minority. Their politics followed a lottocracy rather than being ruled by an overseer or council of
elders. Most of the food and housing were socialized, but they also minted their own money, and
the citizens paid for amazing luxuries: skillfully prepared foods, beautiful clothing, gems, jewelry,
leather, and art and entertainment!
Ereshki, the lioness-masked elf who had comforted him the first night he’d arrived, visited
often throughout Proklis’ recovery. She told hilarious stories with a clear talent for weaving a
narrative. A farmer, like Valadin, she worked both a dangerous and monotonous job, yet she
always had a tale of a funny oddity that happened that day, or an awful mishap they foresaw and
fixed before—in her words—absolute disaster!
59
The other humans in Deepwater often came by, curious more than anything. They seemed a
bit disappointed at first, not realizing he wasn’t similar to them at all. They fully within elven
culture, so Proklis seemed foreign to them, not familiar like they had hoped.
In this part of the city, the cliff above shaded most everywhere, and Proklis loved sitting
outside, watching the late summer rains sweep over the lake, all the while carving fishing hooks,
or weaving baskets, or sewing. And though he had learned that elves were very social people, it
still surprised him when people would appear and sit with him, their own projects in hand along
with snacks and drinks.
He enthralled the small group with the tale of the bear attack and his life-threatening journey
to Deepwater, and the very next day those people brought more friends to the crafting circle and
told him to tell the story again. Soon everyone was telling stories, some they had experienced,
some they had heard, and some making up ghost stories.
They began asking questions about his travels before Deepwater, before Elmhollow, and he
began telling them about his life as an Ironsworn, the iron vows he had fulfilled, and his
childhood traveling with vow adopters, his parents.
People teased one another about the iron vows they had sworn in comparison. Swearing to
bring home bread for dinner. Swearing to clean out the hearth’s ashes. Swearing to their partner
to make their favorite cider. Many of them, their first kiss had been a vow.
The more Proklis healed, the more often he joined people on the docks to fish. People flocked
to the lakeside daily, collecting snails, cutting reeds, and picking up duck eggs.
As summer evenings passed, and the sun set faster each day, the heavy rains gave way to fast
winds. The fields and fruit trees were nearly ripe, and the farmers began talking about beets, and
cauliflower, and bok choy.
One evening, as the sun washed the sky with vibrant orange, Proklis stood on the edge of a
dock, gazing out over the lake. The people around him were finishing up trading what they had
collected—fish for eggs, snails for reeds—and in that moment Proklis felt content and
comfortable in the crowd. He knew the long, steep walk home wouldn’t cause him any pain.
Proklis held the loop of iron on which he swore every vow, pulling tight the leather cord
holding it around his neck. Cicadas rattled and sang as fluorescent beetles began flitting between
grasses. He looked up at the waterfall and up at the waning moon following the sun with the plan
to set soon after.

Recuperate: +2 Health; 5/5.
Dangerous vow: Heal completely before using Bind progress 10/10.
!Action Fulfill Your Vow.

The Oracle: Fulfill Your Vow result:
60
“Sutahe...” Proklis clasped the iron in his palm. “The moon’s power isn’t what you think. I
was nearly undone without it.” He looked into the sky, now blood orange and deepening. He let
his iron pendant drop from his hand to rest on his chest. It glowed, shining out silvery light as he
felt the Moon’s power pour through his heart. “I don’t think you understood… I am bound to
her, and that is who I am.”
Black feathers extended over his hands, down his arms. Ashen feathers covered his shoulders,
down his back. Tenuous shimmers of pale light fluttered over him, similar to the bright ripples
over the dark lake in front of him. Like a fine mist, the light drifted away as Proklis’
transformation completed. People turned in astonishment as the gleaming crane took flight on
black-tipped wings. Proklis skimmed the calm waters, his reflection shimmering beneath him.
He turned to the sky. The beat of his wings felt like stretching away an ache, one so deep within
him that he hadn’t even known it was there.
The last of the day’s warm air lifted him higher, over the terrace farms, above the city, to the
top of the cliff. He soared and landed on rocks by the waterfall.
Beneath the river’s waves, tiny fish glinted in the last of the light, more aglimmer from the
moon than the sun now. The cicadas throughout the woods, the glowing city below, and the
black, peaceful lake, he took them all in. Proklis looked into the sky as night claimed it entirely.
The crane dipped his shoulders and took flight again. He cut through the quickly cooling air
down into the basin, along the city’s edge, back to the shoals of the lake, outstretching to land
gently near the reeds. He walked through the cool water, drank, and splashed it over his back and
wings. He shook the droplets off the feathers on his head, then pulled himself back upright,
transforming to human again.
Bind Active:
Crane: +1 Heart
One evening, Proklis, Retenay, and Valadin stood on a balcony, taking in the night air and
gazing over the Deepwater lake.
“I am so indebted to you.” The Ironsworn’s heart ached at the thought of burdening this
family.
After a bit of a pause, Valadin asked, “What does that mean in human culture?”
Proklis considered. “It can mean many things. It could mean that I must repay you in
valuables or labor. It could mean that I should leave as soon as possible.”
“That one’s odd,” Retenay replied.
Proklis explained, “It’s so that I don’t burden your family any further.”
“You are no burden.” Retenay looked down at the human. “You are a joyful, respectful
person.”
Proklis smiled. “When one is indebted to another, what does that mean in elven culture?” he
asked.
61
“It can mean many things.” Retenay gazed off into the distance again. The stars above
glimmered, similar to the flicker of the braziers around the city.
“You could stay here. Join our family unit,” Valadin offered. “Become our son.”
Proklis was taken fully aback!
“If that does not feel right to you,” Valadin continued, “please don’t leave as soon as possible.
That is not what our family wants.”
Proklis blinked back heartfelt tears. He didn’t know how to decline. He never thought he’d be
offered adoption.
“Your offer to make me part of your family is something I never imagined would...” He
became speechless.
The two elves leaning on the railing looked over at him.
Now tears did drip from Proklis’ lashes.
He shook his head. “I’ve lived my entire life traveling,” he explained. “I’ve never lived
anywhere for more than two years.... I want to continue traveling.”
“Stay until you wish to go, or life long, or two years, or any time throughout and in between,”
they agreed.
“Thank you.” Proklis wiped his cheeks.
!Action +2 Heart +1 Bind. Forge a Bond with the elven family who cared for him for so long.
The Oracle: Forge a Bond result:

Proklis: +1 Spirit; 5/5.
!Action +2 Heart, +1 Bind, +1 Bond. Sojourn in Deepwater as autumn descends.

10 (6+2+1+1) vs. 4 and 4 Opportunity
Bond Forged
Elven Family:
Retenay, Valadin,
Gemmana, and baby
Same.
62
Swords were basically useless around here. Being no good for light hunting, and with no
dangers nearby, the only elves who knew any sword fighting were the ones whose trade regularly
took them far from Deepwater. Proklis sought them out to practice and review the basics. It
helped him regain his stamina, or rather reminded him how much stamina he’d lost. He also
made himself a new pack, promising his elven family it wasn’t a sign that he would soon leave.
He wanted to begin tracking again, preferably with a group and with someone a better shot than
he.
Gemmana wanted him to fulfill his dreams! So, she bought him a beautifully tooled leather
pouch for his belt.
“How did you afford this!” Proklis turned the fine leather over. The loops were studded, the
stitching impeccable, and the design on the front carefully tooled into the leather. It depicted a
beautiful, interlocking, geometric knot.
“Running!” she exclaimed. “See, there’s a mistake here.”
Proklis looked at the flaw in the dye on the back of the pouch.
“It’s cheaper when there’s a mistake,” she told him.
“Running?” Proklis pressed.
“Yeah! I figure if I’m going to run, I might as well run places people need me to run!” she
replied.
“You ran errands, but spent your money on me?” Proklis looked up at the young elf, touched.
“I love you!” she said and pulled him into a big hug.
Proklis squeezed. “Can I buy you something in return?”
“Really?!” she squeed.
“Yeah!” Proklis asked, “What do you want?”
!Ask the Oracle: Theme + Action

The Oracle:
Theme [53] Land
Action [26] Withdraw
She didn’t let go, but leaned away from him, dragging him into a one-sided embrace and
scratching the back of his head nervously. “There’s these boots.”
Proklis just let this happen. “I can buy you boots.”
“They’re really pretty. They have blue laces that go all the way up your shin. And they have
thick soles so you know they won’t wear out. And the leather is really soft inside,” she explained.
Proklis had no balance with his head still wrapped in her arms. “I can buy you boots!”
“I saw them when I kept going back to the leather tooler to see if I could afford something
good for you. They’re so pretty,” she told him.
“I can buy you boots,” Proklis assured her.
She stopped her nervous scratching on his head. Then, because clearly this gift was
everything she wanted and more, she pulled Proklis entirely on her lap and wrapped her arms
under his. Again, he just let this happen. She finally said what was making her so uncomfortable.
“They’re very expensive.”
63
Proklis pulled away just enough to cup his hands gently under the chin of her squirrel mask.
He looked right into the young elf’s eyes. “I can buy you boots.”
Gemmana pulled the wrought iron he always wore out from under his shirt and put both his
hands around it.
“Please buy me boots!” she begged.
He smiled at his little sister. “I vow to buy you boots.”
Sojourn Opportunity:
Plan: +2 Momentum; -3/10 total. Proklis is regaining his strength.
Provide Aid: +1 to swearing an Iron Vow.
!Action +2 Heart, +1 Bind, +1 Bond with Gemmana, +1 Provide Aid. Proklis Swears an Iron
Vow upon the heavenly iron, gifted to him by the Moon herself… to buy Gemmana boots.
.
The Oracle: Swear an Iron Vow result:
9 (4+2+1+1+1) vs. 5 and 10 Weak Hit
Vow
Buy Gemmana Boots: Troublesome
Every Milestone progresses the Vow by 3
Proklis and Ereshki leaned on the railing at the edge of the forum closest to the east terrace
farms. This area, so high on the cliff, overlooked much of the city, which stretched out below and
swept around the basin of the lake. Proklis held a baked fish on a slice of dense bread in one
hand, picking off the flaking flesh, trying to eat it before the juicy meat fell apart in his fingers.
Ereshki ate slowly, slipping morsels under her mask, as elves tended to do when they ate in
public.
“The thing is,” he continued around mouthfuls, “she’s still got a lot of growing to do. She’s
going to be too big for those boots in under a year.”
“Ah,” Ereshki nodded.
“So, the shop offered to make the legs of the boots adjustable so that she can cinch them up
well now, and let them loosen as she grows. Then it’s just the sole of the shoe that will have to be
replaced.” Proklis sort of combed his fingers over the fish, scooching the meat away from the
bones.
“And that will cost more,” Ereshki said, filling in the blanks.
64
Proklis let out a quick sigh. “Otherwise, it just feels like I’m buying her two-thirds of a pair of
boots. I want to pay for it all up front.”
“And how much would that be?” she asked. Proklis told her.
“Oh fuck me!” she exclaimed.
“Right?” Proklis said, making a face with lips tight and eyebrows high.
“Ugh, and it’s harvest season!” she groaned.
“Wait,” Proklis looked up at her. “Why is that a bad thing? Shouldn’t it be easier for me to
find work picking fruit or something?”
“There’s another difference, human,” she remarked about their culture. “Everyone helps with
the harvest. You get paid in not starving this winter.”
This time Proklis sighed heavily. Ereshki leaned so far over him that her shoulder was on his
head. Elves teased him like this for being short... or rather average for a human.
“Know anything about bats?” she asked.
“They’re small and dart around.” Proklis put his finger in her ear.
“Gah!” Ereshki jerked away and off him, releasing him from the teasing. She rubbed the
weird feeling out of her ear. “That’s about all there is to know. You leave them alone and they
pollinate things.” She explained, “We need someone to spelunk down into ((Hold on…))
!Ask the Oracle: Delve Site Name:

The Oracle:
Delve Site Name [67] [10]: Ashen Terror
((Really, M’Lady? You went straight for Ashen Terror?))
!Ask the Oracle: Delve Site Name?

The Oracle:
Delve Site Name [51] [00]: Silent Wrath ((No.))
Delve Site Name [89] [32]: Dreaded Torment ((Try again.))
Delve Site Name [75] [58]: Scarred Gloom ((Nope.))
Delve Site Name [55] [86]: Iron Madness ((Really??))
((Girl…))
Ereshki explained, “We need someone to spelunk down into the bat warrens. Something’s
been messing with the little guys. The hunter’s guild said they could lend a tracker, but caves
aren’t really the place for bows and spears.”
Proklis nodded. “So you’re thinking it’s a wild animal or something?”
“See, we’re really not sure.” She pointed towards the grand waterfall plummeting over the
cliff’s edge. “You can’t really see it from this angle, but the bat warrens are here in the basin. I
can’t imagine what sort of animal could get there. They’d have to creep through the city and
around the terraces, decide they didn’t like farm animals, and go for the caves.”
Proklis imagined there could be that exact kind of animal which might, but it just wasn’t
likely.
65
“The hunter’s guild told us to try the merchant guild to find someone good with close-range
weapons, but the merchant’s guild laughed us away. They said come back in winter.” Ereshki
looked down at the human. “That’s where you come in. You can track, and you can use a sword.”
Proklis only replied, “I can be good at close range.”
“You’re fucking hired.” Ereshki looked back out over the city, leaning on the railing. She
quickly stuffed a huge bite of bread into her mouth and replaced her mask before anyone could
notice.
Proklis pulled a fish bone out of his mouth. “It’s a paying job?” he pressed.
“This is livestock, not harvest,” she answered around her chewing. She finished the bite. “It
won’t be enough to buy you those solid gold boots, but it will get you a good chunk of the way
there. I’ll talk to the guild.”
Throughout the night Proklis stayed awake. He walked the steep streets, barren so late at
night, toward the docks. With no moon yet in the sky, and no braziers set over the waters, Proklis
used a small oil lamp to cut the darkness. He held his iron pendant. He didn’t want to leave the
city, but he wanted to be somewhere that he could do the least amount of damage. Things had
gone wrong before.
He walked out on one of the older docks. It stretched far into the middle of the lake. His
footsteps echoed between the wood and water. The lake lapped gently. The frogs rattled. Proklis
sat cross-legged on the creaking wood. He looked up at the sky and waited for the moon to rise.
The stars shifted slowly overhead… The amount that the horizon’s lights could move in only
a fraction of an hour seemed astonishing to him. Eventually, a barely crescent moon—yesterday
had been the third quarter moon—took to the sky.
Proklis focused on his surroundings. Listened to the lake’s nighttime sounds. Thought about
the feel of his clothes, their weight. Breathed in that scent of when summer becomes autumn.
And quieted his anxious heartbeats.
He let the Moon’s power rise out of him, gleaming out from the iron and twisting up, back
into the sky.
Soon he could hear the Moon and stars again.
Crane form relinquished; -1 Heart.
!Action +3 Wits. Bind the Moon’s power to iron.
The stars expressed deep emotion this night. Tonight, they had not fear nor joy... they
expressed terror and exuberance! Proklis felt the cosmos in his own pulse. He felt their elation,
obsession, and rage, and despair! Their fixation, agony, yearning, and devotion!
Proklis struggled to breathe as the intensity pressed on him.
Fervor! Rapture! Zealotry! Void!
Proklis sucked a strained breath! He tried to pull away. The sky reveled!
66
Lust! Ludicrosity! Depravity!
He tried to find his breath! His mind and the thoughts of the stars were like water colors
bleeding into one another! Proklis gripped the iron trinket, focusing on it—the shape, the
texture—!
The Ironsworn’s eyes snapped open as he gasped a full breath. He caught himself as he nearly
fell against the dock.
His thoughts were alone again....
He unclenched his hand and looked at the iron charm. Silver light faded from glowing bright
with the Moon’s power until it was still again.
Proklis stood. He found his balance. And he walked back into the city.

-2 Spirit; 3/5.

Proklis managed to keep it from being worse.
Bind with the Moon:

Bind Empowered. Proklis may choose a new form whenever he pleases.
Furthermore… fulfilling the vow to Sutahe gave Proklis +2 experience which can be used to
reveal his background combat talent:
Brawler
When Proklis is in (Upgraded Talent)
control of the battle • Proklis receives +2 when he
and doesn’t hold back, Strikes with deadly intent; he
he is as deadly inflicts 2 Harm on a Hit and he
unarmed as others takes -1 Momentum on a Weak
who wield weapons. Hit or Miss.
67
A large promenade wove along the edge of the cliffside and behind Deepwater’s incredible
waterfall. Proklis gazed over at the white waters cascading from the river high above. Just like
many of the roads through the city, the Deepwater architects had sculpted this pathway directly
into the cliff. Even the vaulted roof and intricate pillars were all still one with the natural rock.
Moss thrived on the finished stone, and ferns thrived in the crevices of the unfinished stone.
Proklis continued on past the waterfall, and into the open-air paths.
He wove through the northeastern side of the terrace farms, past the scores of elves needed to
harvest this field alone.
Ereshki waited for him near the bat warren with two packs. “Hey, Bare-face.”
“Oh no... Don’t call me that,” Proklis objected with a grimace. He pointed at the smaller pack.
“That for me?”
“Nope.” She tossed him the elven-sized pack. Going with the joke, he put it on, the straps so
loose the pack leaned back on him, throwing his balance entirely askew.
Ereshki chuckled and pulled it off of him and swung it onto her own back. Proklis grabbed
the strap of the smaller pack and hefted.
“Piss in shit!” The pack was easily twice as heavy! “What do you have in here? Rocks?”
Proklis uncinched the top. Two melon-sized rocks sat on top. Ereshki practically brayed with
laughter.
Her chuckles calming, she told him, “The guild gave us some supplies in case we spend all
day in there. I doubt we’ll need it.”
The two rocks thudded to the ground, and with his reasonable pack secured to his shoulders
and waist, Proklis shoved one of the rocks away with his heel. “Ready when you are.”
Delve
Bat Warren: Troublesome
Goal: What’s bothering the bats?
Domain: Theme: Area:
Cavern Unknown Low Risk
Delves are a far more dangerous challenge than either Journeys or violent Frays. The Oracle
has immense power here, and every step towards the goal becomes ever more treacherous.
68
The mouth of the bat warren was a crevice barely big enough for an elf to climb through, but
once their torches touched the darkness, they could see that the cavern stretched back quickly,
spread out and high. The cave itself was limestone and calcite rather than the chert which made
up most of Deepwater. Water wept down the walls and stalactites with red minerals. Thin, wavy
formations ran along the ceiling, dripping. The striations of minerals and odd pearly white stones
lent an eerie beauty to this dark, slippery passageway.
!Action +3 Wits. Delve the Depths carefully, seeking out the bats.
The Oracle: Delve the Depths result:

3 (0+3) vs. 5 and 3 Miss
Because Proklis has -2 Momentum the Oracle’s luck collapses, changing the Weak Hit to a
Miss.
((So that’s how it’s gonna be? Okay. Bring it.))
The uneven stone gently sloped downwards, rounded and slick. Soon the stalactites grew
closer and closer to the floor, and the passage wove narrow again. The cave never branched off;
only this tunnel leaned deeper and deeper into the earth. Ereshki often crouched to pass along
the wavy formations, and sometimes had to carefully slide between two stalagmites.
“What is that?” She stopped short and leaned, looking around a partial crevice, formed from
a cavern column merging into the limestone wall. Proklis crept up under her and peered over.
In the flickering light of the torch they slowly recognized the small brown lump. It was a
mangled bat. Dead, its stomach gouged, its viscera eaten, and its broken wings twisted beneath its
body.
Proklis swallowed, pulling back in disgust.
The Oracle:
Cavern Danger [37] …
The sound of dripping grew louder up ahead. The cavern opened up, giving way to reddish
calcite walls snaking back in both directions. A deep pool of water so still it was nearly invisible
stretched out before them. Shelf-like rock formations thinner than a blade lined the walls like
stone lily pads. There was no suitable path. Only water.
Ereshki took a deep breath with a barely audible groan. She took a cautious step in. “Ah, ah,
ah!” She gasped.
Proklis followed her. He hissed an intake of breath at the sudden shock of cold water. He
immediately began to shiver. Very unhappy with this turn of events, they waded in shin-deep.
69
But, as they traversed, the water became waist-deep for Proklis. Then it was waist-deep for
Ereshki, and therefore chest-deep for Proklis.
When Proklis felt the chill of the water on his collar bones, he said, “Ereshki.” She turned and
he handed her the torch.
“You’re going to be swimming soon,” she said. She wasn’t teasing.
The torchlight flickered and shadows leapt between tiny, dripping strands of calcite
formations. The uneven stone beneath their feet often formed rounded mounds. Proklis
struggled to be sure, but he wondered if some of those shadows between them were sunken, dead,
brown lumps.
The Oracle:
Cavern Danger [37] Underground lake
!Action +1 Edge: Face Danger: try to keep the torch above water.
Proklis now had to use his arms to move effectively through the numbing water. He clenched
his teeth from the cold so hard his jaw ached. Ereshki kept switching which hand held the torch,
her arms clearly becoming tired from keeping it so far above her head. Suddenly Proklis saw the
elf plunge and instant, absolute darkness blinded them. He heard a splash and Ereshki’s gasp. His
breaths seemed so loud. The lapping of the pool echoed.
He heard Ereshki’s movement in the water. “Proklis?! Proklis??”
“I’m here!” He treaded water. He jolted before realizing he had merely felt Ereshki reaching
out for him. They fumbled over one another’s arms before clasping hands.
“We were nearly to the other side,” she told him. “Are you okay continuing forward so we
can light another torch?”
A prickling rush of fear drained down his mind. He knew sulfur and lime torches were fine in
rain; they’d better be fine plunged into ice water as well.
“Yeah,” he breathed. Ereshki could hear his shivering in his words.
The Oracle: Keep the torch above water result:

5 (4+1) vs. 5 and 8 Miss
The gentle movement of water fluttered over his chest and along his arms. They kept their
hands clasped, and they both used their free hand to push through the water, Proklis treading
forward and Ereshki wading shoulder-deep. They moved slowly. Proklis felt numbness from the
cold rising all the way to his temples. His breath quivered between the effort of staying above
water and extremely harsh shivers. Ereshki pulled him along. He stroked at the water to stay in
pace with her; it would have been more awkward to fully lay flat and swim. The idea of losing his
grip on her terrified him.
Each movement made a gentle roll of current that chilled his muscles. Sometimes the toes of
his boots would touch some underwater calcium formation, but it would be gone just as quickly.
With nothing to his senses besides overlapping echoes, pressing cold, and the shared grip
70
between his and Ereshki’s hand, he struggled to glean any measure of distance. And purposefully
calming his fears made time difficult to estimate. Each stroke of water was a movement. Each
stroke of water was a moment. He breathed louder as much from the cold as the treading. Proklis
began to wonder if the length of the pool had been an optical illusion and that they hadn’t
actually been close to the other side at all. Echoes of lapping water filled the cavern. The darkness
seeped into them. With the flow of their movements pushing the water along, he nearly didn’t
notice when some of the swirls of motion brought little bumps of softness, and they were gone
just as quickly. “What the hell?” Ereshki murmured; Proklis heard her sloshing.
Now they felt small, soft bundles in the water every so often as they made their way forward.
Proklis felt one brush against his face and he instinctively kicked to jerk away. He continued on
with his eyes closed. Trying desperately to not think about it. In the depth of this oppressive
darkness, fears and imagination both became legitimate and impossi—
Ereshki screeched! Proklis instantly pushed forward and he too found the cavern shelf that
she’d bumped into. Her breaths were that of someone shocked but slowly calming. Right in front
of them the sound of water lapped over something solid. They both fumbled in the darkness, but
only with their free hands. Reaching out, climbing up, they realized they had in fact found the
other side.
The two of them pulled themselves out of the water, breathing heavily and shivering. Until
just then, neither of them had realized just how tightly they had clenched their hands together.
Their shaking breaths dominated their senses. He heard Ereshki’s pack slide from her back.
He put his arm around her in a shoulder hug for warmth. He could hear the cord of the pack
against the fabric, a few soft noises, then the hollow sound of wood against rock. He felt her lean
forward. He heard a sudden clack of stone and saw a spark of light!
Darkness.
The wood rolled quietly, and he felt her shift her weight.
Her whisper wavered low on her breath. “Please… Please…”
Two more quick clacks caused a flare in light, and she and Proklis both turned their eyes
away suddenly. She laughed in relief and returned his small hug.
-1 Supply; 2/5.
She held the torch up to reveal dozens of tiny, crumpled, mangled, brown balls strewn over
the cavern floor. Proklis turned. Dead bats bobbed gently on the pool’s surface. The water was
cloudy from the decomposing bodies that they had churned up.
Proklis put a quivering hand over his mouth.
Ereshki and he shook.
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer: Gather Information.
“What... killed them?” Ereshki peered over one of the furry bodies.
71
Moving awkwardly in his dripping clothes, Proklis examined a few of the bats without
touching them. Ereshki passed him the torch. The wings were broken and twisted, the necks
snapped. “They look like they just... crashed.”
But many of them were gory, partially torn into. The bite marks seemed very small.
“See how the...” Proklis pointed at the gruesome sight, trying to speak gingerly to not make it
worse, “...softest parts are the only places... eaten?”
Ereshki did not want to “see how.”
Proklis explained, “Whatever is eating them is a scavenger. There’s not something hunting
these bats. The bats are dying by crashing into the cave walls.”

7 (3+3+1) vs. 3 and 10 Weak Hit
Proklis: +1 Momentum Slayer, +1 Momentum Weak Hit; 0/10.
!Action +3 Wits: Delve the Depths: explore this side of the pool.
The Oracle:
Delve the Depths with Wits result [49]…
From here, the way forward was not so clear.

The bulbous stone continued back between stalagmites and ribbon-like walls. Drips could be
heard far ahead in the dark passages.
Ereshki followed the Ironsworn as he carefully made his way between corpses, examining the
different passage entrances. She watched as he assessed and planned.
As they crept near the back of the chamber, examining yet another passage entrance,
movement jarred Proklis back! One of the soft balls suddenly crawled away from another! Only
half a breath occurred in the time for that bat to look right at them and shoot off down the dark
passage. Breaths of terror heaving, he looked down at the half-eaten body of the mangled bat the
creature had left behind.
Proklis’ heart thundered. That split moment before the bat had darted away had been enough
to fully see the tiny creature’s eyes. They had not been the soft, large eyes of a night creature.
They had not been the blue-white eyes of a blind creature. They had been the speckled, milky-
white eyes of a dead creature.
Ereshki’s hand gripped Proklis’ shoulder as her other hand slid under her mask to hold her
mouth as she turned away is disgust. Proklis put his free hand over hers.
He turned to look up at her and asked for her honesty, “Should we turn back?”
“And do what?” she responded. “Cave in the entrance and hope for the best?”
Proklis didn’t have an answer.

The Oracle:
Delve the Depths with Wits [49] Mark Progress.
72
Delve progress 3/10. Area is low risk.
!Action +3 Wits: Delve further, looking for answers.
“I want to follow that bat,” Proklis ventured, lifting the torch forward to see down that
passage.
“I want a joint,” Ereshki retorted. Finding comfort in the joke, Proklis just smiled and shook
his head. After all this, he would join her.
He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. A deep breath... “Okay.”
He ducked through the crevice where the bat had flown, and she crawled through. They both
struggled to keep their balance on the slick limestone. The narrow passage sloped up. Ereshki
could brace herself against both walls, and twice kept Proklis from slipping down. They moved
carefully, the torch a constant danger in the thin space.
Ereshki felt her back touch the roof of the passage. “Does it narrow any more up ahead?”
“It gets steeper,” Proklis said, “but it widens out.”
The tunnel opened up above them. Proklis reached out and found a stalagmite he could
partially wrap his hand around, thumb down, to help push him up. He pulled himself out of the
passage into a different section of the cave. This cavern stretched high above them with massive
rock formations. They must have been growing for eons. Ereshki’s long arms reached out of the
hole, and she posted on her elbows to pull herself up. She got a knee beneath her as Proklis
turned, using the light to glance about the room.
“Well at least that will be easier going back down—” She stopped short when Proklis’ finger
snapped up to press against his lips. She stood fully out of the hole and followed his gaze.
Far off in the darkness, a dim glow, ruby-red, moved lightly back and forth in place with
slow, jerky motions.
Proklis inched towards it; Ereshki did not.
His eyes worked against the darkness, trying to parse what this could possibly be. The shape
seemed about the size of a sow. Nothing emitted the light, it just simply glowed. The variance in
shadow within it began to suggest an actual shape or form to this thing.
As he stared, the movement and the light slowly made sense…
The details of the translucent glow seemed to show a creature on all fours, the forward-most
part jerking with gnawing motions. He realized the two forward dark points were sunken eyes in
a skull. A tight, leathery maw, and mummified skin wrapped the face and withdrew from askew
teeth. The light along the body took the form of limp decomposing clothes, vertebrae visible
through the tightly drawn flesh, shriveled fingertips with long nails, and leathery skin clinging
tight to the human bones. The crouched body made of light undulated as the maw bit down
again and again as if trying to feed. But the teeth only passed through the twisted bat body lying
on the stone before it.
73
The Oracle:
Delve Opportunity [77] Take action against a denizen caught unaware.
!Action +1 Edge, +1 Opportunity to Take Action Now. Face Danger: Run.
Proklis’ breaths shuddered in his chest. He stepped back. He stared into this apparition of a
leathery corpse attempting to feed long after death.
“Go—” he breathed; Proklis darted back towards Ereshki! “Go! Go!”
She snatched his hand and ran far into the back of the cavern, Proklis barely able to keep up
with her long strides! She led them around the cord-like walls, deeper down one of the tunnels
until they splashed ankle deep into cold water. The passage had rounded into a dead end. They
stood there together, staring back at the way they’d come, their breaths stinging.

8 (6+1+1) vs. 2 and 9 Weak Hit
Proklis: -2 Spirit; 1/5.
!Action +2 Heart. Endure Stress.

“What the fuck was that?” Ereshki gasped.

“That was thaum!” Proklis told her.
“That was what?” Ereshki knew what thaum was—the natural energy that sorcerers used for
their corruptive spells—she just didn’t understand what an actual mummified corpse-ghost
champing at a dead bat had to do with it!
Proklis still quivered from the surge of fight or flight panic. “That ruby-crimson color,” he
explained. “That’s the color of thaum in its physical form.”
Ereshki drew back further towards the slick wall.
“What is going on here...” Proklis breathed.
Delve progress 6/10. This area is filled with Formidable dangers.
!Action +3 Wits. Delve, looking for answers.
The two carefully traversed the uneven, slick stone along the glistening, wet walls between
calcite formations and darkness. They saw nothing more than the occasional dead bat. But now,
Proklis knew what he was looking for.
74
He peered through different crevices, not ignoring the cavern’s roof and the many shadows
there. The two became steeped in the moments... tension and sunlessness dragging time into
unknowable lengths. Their waterskins had stayed sealed from their plunge in the cavern pool, but
their food had been ruined. And they both began to feel it.
Proklis found no hint of crystal formations, nor any further glow of thaum. They walked the
tunnels carefully. Following the wall to not get lost.
Then, finally, Proklis saw an anomaly: deep grey limestone lay behind reddish-tan and blue
calcite. It wasn’t slick.
He hesitantly reached out. His hand brushed over grainy stone. A different color, a different
texture, and not part of the cave with water where stone still lived and changed.
Proklis examined how the two different stones laid against one another. The curving, bubble-
like formations which they had constantly journeyed through so far looked as if it had crumbled
from erosion, revealing this wall behind it. Proklis followed the gap in flowstone along the wall,
and up ahead he noticed jagged edges like a break in the limestone wall.
Proklis lifted his torch inside the shattered section of the wall and froze.
Five mummified human bodies lay on the dry stone within. They wore faded cloaks of
intricate design, jewels on their shriveled fingers, and metal circlets around their heads. They had
been wealthy in life, and violent in death.
One lay like he’d died contorted in pain. An intricate dagger, buried to the hilt, remained
between his ribs and deep in his chest. Another lay curled, a dagger in his spine. One clutched a
similar dagger, seemingly peaceful compared to the rest. The fourth had fallen on his back, the
shriveled skin of his throat revealing a deep, wide gash. And the last lay in a fetal position. They
could still see on the wall above him preserved, bloody streaks where he had clawed at the stone.

Delve Progress 9/10. Extremely high risk.
!Action Locate Your Objective
Proklis backed away in terror. He couldn’t imagine any other scenario than a death pact
between corrupted sorcerers. In a harrowed whisper he told Ereshki, “We have to leave here.
Now.”
The Oracle: Locate Your Objective result:

They found the unforeseen.
!Action +1 Edge: Escape the Depths: run.
75
Suddenly the deep shadows and dark crevices around them became powerful, valid fear.
Ereshki fully ran behind Proklis’ desperate sprints, shielding her head as she ducked and wove
around rock formations. The torch he held destroyed her dark-vision and she had to trust Proklis
implicitly as they fled through the wet passageways. He turned, hand outstretched to help pull
her through as she ducked and scrambled over the narrowest points. She couldn’t be sure in the
darkness and streaking light of the moving torch, but his eyes seemed larger, and darker too, his
lashes near the corners curling upward.
She had heard the story of his transformation into a grey crane and her mind conjured what
if here and now—whether panic or actual strategy—he was transforming again.
Ereshki took the torch from him as he slid into the slippery hole in the cavern floor. He went
first to face anything down there before her.
They did not watch their step, running along the vast chamber at the bottom, but they
stopped short at the edge of the deep underground lake. He looked back at her, determination in
equal quantity with fear in his eyes.
“I can keep the torch above water!” Ereshki promised.
The Ironsworn reached up and put both hands on her arms. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Wh—w—” she stuttered, staring into his eyes that, without a doubt, were completely his
own.
“I will be fully me,” he assured her. He shook his head, “I. Will. Not. Hurt you.” He then took
the torch from her and urged her into the water.
Ereshki slid in, looking back multiple times in confusion, without even a guess as to what he
was about to do.
Proklis handed her the torch, and immediately dove into the murky lake!
Ereshki watched in horror as the Ironsworn’s skin turned bark-like and his body stretched as
tall as an elf! His head grew long and flat, his arms and legs became short, and a fat tail extended
far back behind him. He outstretched webbed claws to either side of him. Proklis’ eyes, now
sandy-green with a thin slit of a pupil, drifted up above the water’s surface. He blinked a third
eyelid at her. The crocodile turned his body towards the exit, but looked back at her, waiting.
Bind Active:
Crocodile: +1 Shadow
The brightest night they had ever experienced met them at the mouth of the cave. Proklis’
crocodile head flinched from the light, and he quickly reverted back into his human form. He lay
on the ground, gasping from running and swimming and fleeing. Cold-blooded creatures were
not suited for fast, prolonged movement.
Ereshki pulled him away from the mouth of the cave, crouching with her back pressed
against the familiar cliffside of Deepwater. Grabbing him up in her arms, and gasping nearly as
heavily as the human, she buried her masked face in his hair.
76
He heard her muffled words, “What the fuck is in there? What kind of fucking corruption is
melting into our home?”
Proklis turned and hugged her around the neck.
The Oracle: Escape the Depths result:

-1 Spirit; 0/5…
Unable to handle any more stress, it eats at his drive to push on: -1 Momentum; -1/10

4 (2+2) vs. 6 and 7 Miss
Proklis: -1 Momentum; -2/10…
Proklis’ mind rushed through everything he had seen. The ceremonial daggers, specifically
five bodies, the thaum ghost mindlessly trying to feed, the animated dead bats, the bloody
viscera, the many, many bodies.
He clutched Ereshki.
It could only be necromancy.
Debility: Shaken.
The empty streets of Deepwater at night seemed to glow brighter than ever before. The white
stone reflected full starlight. The waterfall seemed black in comparison.
They slowly made their way home, through the quiet south forum, along the empty alleys,
walking hand in hand for comfort.
Feeling crushing exhaustion, they reached Proklis’ home first. He turned to Ereshki. “Are you
okay?”
She looked down at him for a long moment. “Are you?”
He closed his eyes and hugged her tight. She gripped him, then went on home.
He pushed the door open and instantly heard gasps and breaths of elven blessings. He walked
into the candle light and immediately Retenay, Valadin, and Gemmana rushed to him. Without
change to his hollow-eyed expression of exhaustion, he found himself embraced on all sides, long
elven arms entwining around him. He leaned heavily on Retenay, not even lifting his arms. He
could not suppress a sob.
77
The Depths of Delves can be traversed with one of three strategies:
Carefully, with the risk of sluggish progress.
Quickly, with the risk of sudden danger.
Surreptitiously, with the risk of finding nothing helpful in order to avoid danger.
78
Slayers are Ironsworn who know the habits of beasts and horrors. They are the ones hired to
hunt and kill the deadliest creatures.
79
Proklis
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lago and Menna:
Father and mother.
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 Gwyn:
Shaken Older brother by 6
years. Now a knight.
Vows The Moon:
Binds her power to
Proklis.
The Moon: Epic
Elmhollow:
(Background vow)
Hunting camp in the
Deep Wilds.
Sutahe:
Sutahe: Dangerous
Do not activate Bind until 5/5 Health.
         
Fulfilled
Gemmana: Troublesome
Buy her boots.
  
80
Proklis
Bind
Empowered
(Unique to Proklis)
Brawler Slayer
improvised weapon:
• Proklis receives +1 to Secure • Proklis receives +1 when he
andAdvantage using +Iron in close Gathers Information by tracking a
• Proklis receives +2 when he Strikes
with deadly intent; he inflicts 2
Harm on a Hit and he takes -1
Momentum on a Weak Hit or
Miss.
81
Session 5: Depths
“Proklis?” Retenay’s voice gently woke him.

He opened his heavy eyes, looking straight up at the dogwood elf. Gemmana still slept
entirely atop him.
Valadin stood by the door, cradling Same, talking softly to someone outside.
Retenay simply told him, “You’ve been summoned.”
Bathed, combed, and dressed as formally as they could manage, Proklis stood in the Main
Forum where he presented respectfully to a jury of 18 elves. Ereshki, and the head of the hunter’s
guild, and the head of the farmer’s guild, and an elf he did not recognize all stood in a semicircle
to answer their summons. Valadin, Retenay, and Gemmana holding Same, all stood back in the
large crowd gathering at the court.
He and Ereshki recounted what they had seen, and testified that they could not accurately
create a map of the cavern, then testified they could each confidently lead a party back to where
they had found the mummified bodies.
The elf that Proklis did not know began to testify to the court that he believed their story
fully. The details were consistent with thaum avatars.
“They will start out looking like those ghostly forms, which these honored explorers
described,” he explained.
“They will be mindless and ravenous from death at first. But they could be possessing the
bats, driving them into crushing deaths, then possessing more bats to gorge on the bodies.” This
elf must have been some manner of scholar. “They need the flesh to reanimate their bodies. As
they feed, they will regain their wits and become more efficient in that goal. Time is of the
essence.”
He then began to describe the brute force they could use against the necromancers rather
than wasting time sending for a sorcerer who could fight magic with magic. He detailed how to
dissolve the skulls in acid, break apart the occult weapons and jewelry, and shatter the gemstones.
Proklis sighed inwardly, staring distantly at the intricate knotted designs carved into the jury
stands. He had seen enough... fought enough... to know exactly what this battle would be like.
The next line of questions regarded other solutions, including caving in the entrance.
And finally, the guild leaders each testified as to what skills their guild members could
reasonably bring forth regarding each proposed solution.
At last, they were all released and the jury left to deliberate.
Proklis ate lunch on a bench overlooking the lake. He took small bites, like the elves around
him.
He seriously wondered if he could find some time to himself so that he could transform back
into a crocodile and float among the reeds.
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By evening, the jury announced a decision had been made. Proklis and Ereshki were the only
ones formally summoned for it.
A massive crowd gathered, murmuring, pressing close together, filling in one another on the
morning’s proceedings.
The elves of the jury stood on the court platform. Proklis admired the beauty of 18 elves, all
garbed in formal clothes. One read from a wax tablet. “We have agreed that immediate action,
and decisive action, is in the interest of Deepwater and her citizens. Three citizens will be asked
to return to the cavern to destroy the necromancers before they gain power. If none reemerge
after two days’ time the entrance will be sealed. If some but not all return within two days, their
families may bring forward arguments for rescue to this same jury in interest of rapid action. By
lottery or proffer the first citizen shall be one of the two honored explorers standing here.”
“I shall—”
“I proff—” She looked down at him, and he up at her.
The Ironsworn, and dear friend, placed his hand on her arm. “I shall go.” Proklis pressed the
iron pendant hidden beneath his shirt against his chest.
The jury speaker replied formally, “Thank you for giving to your community. Next, by lottery
or proffer, the second citizen shall be a member of the hunting guild.”
Retenay stepped forward, still holding the hands of their husband and their daughter. “I have
conferred with my family. I proffer.”
“Thank you for giving to your community. The third citizen, by lottery or proffer,” he said,
“shall be a member of the farming guild.”
Shock struck Proklis’ heart! His eyes snapped up to beg Ereshki to stay silent!
“I proffer,” Ereshki said, her lioness mask gazing straight at the jury.
As the sun set Proklis told his elven family he wished to spend time with humans that night.
He suggested their family deserved privacy as well. They said they understood, but they did not.
Proklis walked along the slowly emptying streets, down towards the low western part of town.
He entered a tavern where humans tended to gather. Proklis ate at the long table where all the
patrons sat together, and listened to the gossip of what had been found in the bat warrens and
that they were sending people in to try to destroy it.
No one seemed to know Proklis was the human they gossiped about. He steered the
conversation towards more joyful topics.
Fun began to take reign, and they got drunk on barley beer and kuchikamizake, and in the
low light of the large candles tried to see who could toss roasted nuts into each other’s mouths
from farthest away.
The human folk here joked and playfully jostled one another. Proklis kissed a few of the
women. One pulled him in tight, his hand on the back of her neck, her arm over his shoulder and
beneath his shirt. Another, as they kissed, placed his hand on her thigh.
And Proklis kissed many of the young men. One pulled Proklis onto his lap, deeply,
passionately kissing him, and lifted his shirt up to gently run his nails down Proklis’ back.
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As it got late, they all shared a roast duck and a platter of potatoes to sober up, and then
Proklis left with two of the men. They three made love with one another again and again until
they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
!Action +2 Heart: Sojourn: a night of happiness and comfort.
Proklis, Ereshki, and Retenay gathered on the walkway beneath the waterfall as morning light
began to pour along the city.
Understandably, not many people wanted to go anywhere near the bat warrens. The only
ones there to give hugs and tearful farewells were their closest friends and, of course, Retenay’s
family.
“I will do everything I can to bring Retenay home to you,” Proklis promised Valadin. “I don’t
want you to lose them.”
He then turned to Gemmana. He placed his forehead against hers, over the sweet squirrel
mask. “I’ll come back to you,” he told her. “I swore to buy you boots, remember?”
Gemmana said nothing. She only cried.
As they turned to go, Proklis saw that the only people there to send off Ereshki were her
closest friends. It was then that he realized he had never heard her mention any family.
Finally, the three of them walked away, beneath the waterfall, and forward to the warrens.
The moment they entered the abandoned terrace farms and the crevice to the cave came into
view, Proklis felt all the joy and peace from the night before drain from him. He felt only
exhaustion.

Proklis: Spirit 0/5. -2 Momentum; -4/10.
Proklis closed his eyes. He put his hand over his chest. The iron torus pressed against his
heart. You chose this. Despair does not change your desire to help Deepwater… to protect the
people you care about. I won’t let it change my drive for it either. You have trained for so much of
your life, and fought so many battles. This is what it’s for. I want to help this place. I want to help
these people. I want this corruption gone!

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!Action +2 Heart. Swear an Iron Vow to destroy the 5 necromancers.

7 (5 +2) vs. 9 and 3 Weak Hit
Unspoken Vow
Slay the Five Necromancers: Extreme
Every Milestone progresses the Vow by ½ of a box.
Kindred Companion Kindred Companion

Retenay Ereshki:
• Skilled in Stealth: Proklis • Shield-Kin: Proklis receives a
receives a +1 from Retenay’s +1 if he and Ereshki Clash,
expertise. When he makes a Battle, or Face Danger against
move outside of combat, they an attack together.
will aid him.
• Bonded: Proklis receives a +1
if he Faces Desolation with
Retenay nearby.
Health Health
0 1 2 3 4 0 1 2 3 4
Retenay can help lead them along the caverns unnoticed, and they are
such a comforting presence to Proklis that they could truly save him
from succumbing to the horrors here.
Ereshki …simply doesn’t back down from a fight.
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Proklis was not afraid that Retenay had volunteered feeling they needed to protect him. They
had been discussing with Valadin about wanting to help eradicate the corruption from the
moment they heard from Proklis what had happened here.
But Ereshki, he couldn’t read.
As they approached the warrens, they joined Ukames, the scholar from the day before and
the only other person brave enough to come this close. He stood by three cautiously sealed vats.
Each one was large enough that the contents could fill a milk pail with some to spare. “I’ve
synthesized the acid you’ll need.”
“So much!” Retenay said, clearly taken aback.
“I made you only a little extra from how much I expect it will take,” he assured them.
Retenay seemed to have nothing to say, so they simply said, “Thank you.”
The three of them each took one and made room in their packs, which were now so
overloaded that they couldn’t fully cinch them closed.
Together, they each had enough supplies for two days, including enough torches, rushlights,
and candles that they wouldn’t have to fear being left in the dark even if they became separated.
They also each had a small raft to keep their packs out of the water. And on their belts, they each
carried a small war hammer.
The three of them paused for a moment outside the crevice that gave entrance to the warrens.
Retenay gave Proklis’ hand a reassuring squeeze, and then journeyed in.
The elves ducked through the first passages, avoiding the calcite formations dripping from
the cavern roof. Proklis slid his hand along the wall for support. But at the underground lake they
realized they hadn’t planned for the weight of the acid vats when they made the rafts. The three
circular, reed rafts were really only large enough and buoyant enough to hold the packs to begin
with. Knowing the vats would be far too heavy, they instead emptied their supplies to carefully
arranged them on the rafts. They kept the vats in their packs to carry across. Proklis however
would not be able to swim with that much extra weight, so Ereshki carried his vat, too. Nor could
he transform for this task. He had to help push the three rafts.
They made it to the other side without incident, shivering, miserable, and determined. But
also knowing that now the danger truly began.
Delve
Corrupted Bat Warren: Formidable
Every successful waypoint progresses the Delve by 1
and increases the Area’s Risk.
Cavern Corrupted Low Risk
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!Action +2 Shadow, +1 Bind, +1 Retenay’s Expertise. Delve: stay hidden; begin searching.
The Oracle:
Delve the Depths with Shadow [89]…
Though the number of dead bats was atrocious, they saw nothing else truly horrific as they
made their way to, and then climbed up, the tight passage that he and Ereshki had found before.
Through the hole, they saw no crimson apparition nor possessed bats. The three of them
carefully searched the area, finding eviscerated lumps, but nothing more.
Ereshki held her torch up, leaning to look down one of the passages. “It was this way, right?”
Proklis’ recollection agreed. Retenay took the lead.
They all crept down the path.
The dripping walls echoed louder than their steps.
The black shadows moved with the torches.
Time melded into itself.
Retenay stopped and drew back. They motioned for Proklis to look. Not far away, they could
see a death-eyed bat feeding.
The three of them delayed a moment, observing. It didn’t take long before the creature ripped
off a chunk of viscera and held it in its mouth. The possessed beast flew off, trailing gore.
In hushed tones, Proklis told the others, “Let’s follow that bat.” Retenay nodded.

10 (6+2+1+1) vs. 4 and 8 Strong Hit
The Oracle:
Delve Opportunity [89] Locate an interesting or helpful object.
Strong Hits when Delving the Depths always provide an Opportunity, in this case, a trail of
gore leading them in the right direction.
Delve progress: 1/10. Low risk.
!Action +3 wits, +1 Opportunity, + 1 Slayer: Gather Information: follow.
The slick, uneven floor didn’t hinder his or Retenay’s tracking at all. The pale-blue calcite
stone in fact contrasted the drips of blood incredibly well.
Their group moved through the darkness by the light of only one rushlight torch. The path
opened slightly ahead.
Retenay drew back in sudden but silent fear. Proklis crept beneath their arm and stared into
the cavern’s shadows.
A leathery human body lay on the cavern floor, head back and toothy maw open. Proklis
knew they hadn’t yet gotten particularly close to the death-pact crypt where they had found this
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necromancer two days before. The gorged bat wriggled inside the mummified sorcerer’s dry
mouth, stuffing chunks of flesh down his throat. The necromancers now must have been
managing some amount of mobility.
With a shocking crunch, brown teeth snapped into the bat! A light crimson glow lit the dried
flesh as it chewed. The light grew brighter in the sorcerer’s eye sockets. The necromancer ground
his teeth, gulping the bony wings into his mouth.
Unsure if or how this undead man might move, Proklis stood between his two companions
and gestured them in. They leaned close enough to feel his breath as he whispered, “Retenay take
the left. Ereshki, keep your back to the passage. I’m going to use the darkness to our advantage.”
Proklis crept around the corner and melded into the absolute shadows therein.

10 (5+3+1+1) vs. 2 and 10 Weak Hit
Proklis: +1 Momentum for Slayer, +1 Momentum for Gather Information Weak Hit.
Proklis’ Momentum is 0/10: high enough to not risk negative momentum to cause his luck
to collapse, but just on the cusp of it.
!Action +1 Shadow, +1 Bind Shadow, +1 Retenay’s Expertise… Enter the Fray.
The necromancer’s knees lifted straight up! He let his body drag forward with the movement.
The legs seemed to have some unnatural balance on the bone-bare ankles. Next, his torso
crunched into place with the sound of his spine breaking and realigning.
His arms and head lolled lifeless, eyes thaum-red.
A large rock crept from the shadows behind the bone-and-leather, undead sorcerer.
The neck cracked forward, jaw slack, seemingly oblivious to the low flickering of the far-off
torchlight. The sorcerer took an unsteady step forward, arms still hanging lifeless. He did not
notice that the light of his thaum glinted off a long, flat maw of sharp teeth which crept up
behind him…
!Action +2 Iron, +2 Brawler: Strike!
Proklis’ reptilian eyes flashed in the lapping torchlight; his massive jaw gaped, twisted, and
snapped violently on the undead! The crocodile dragged the necromancer to the ground!

8 (5+1+1+1) vs. 9 and 5 Weak Hit
Proklis takes initiative.
Foe: The first necromancer.

Formidable. (Inflicts -3 Health per Harm.)
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Bones splintered and joints snapped and they felt the cavern floor rumble before they realized
the necromancer wailed with an unnaturally deep tone.
Proklis dragged the leathery sorcerer towards Retenay and Ereshki, and they rushed forward,
raising their hammers. The two slammed their weapons down upon the undead’s chest and head!
Team inflicts 3 Harm; battle progress 3/10.
!Action +2 Iron, +2 Brawler: Strike!
Flakes of flesh and shards of bones flew. Clamped helplessly in Proklis’ maw, the
necromancer could only rumble as his body chipped and broke. But deep in the undead’s chest, a
crimson glow burned. A bright ruby red shone through the crisp skin! Proklis released the body!
For one instant, the light of the thaum went entirely out...

6 (2+2+2) vs. 9 and 6 Miss
A blazing explosion of light blasted them away! The elves crashed against the stone walls, and
Proklis snarled a hiss from his reptilian throat!
Pain burned on them, shock blinded them, and they scrambled to regroup.
Proklis: -1 Momentum (Brawler Miss); -1/10.

Proklis: -1 Health; 4/5.
Ereshki: -1 Health; 3/4.
Retenay: -1 Health; 3/4.
Foe has initiative.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Kindred Shield-Kin. Clash!
The sorcerer’s roar shook around them in a tone far lower than any human could possibly
bellow.
Retenay regained their feet, Proklis lunged, and the undead creature lashed into Ereshki,
clawing ahold of her. With both hands Ereshki smashed her war hammer down, shattering the
necromancer’s arm into shards!

Ereshki: Inflicts +2 Harm; battle progress 5/10.
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The undead’s remaining hand grasped the lioness mask, claw-like fingers digging a grip
around the sides and into the eyeholes. Ereshki cried out in terror!
The burning thaum-red glow in necromancer’s eyes faded and grew in intensity within his
mouth. They all felt the necromancer’s thunderous tone rumbling deep in their bones. The
crimson light in the sorcerer’s mouth deepened, and as it dimmed, thaum-hued light began to
shine from inside Ereshki’s mask.
Not Proklis, nor Retenay, nor Ereshki herself had ever heard her scream like this harrowed
scream now.
!Action +2 Iron, +2 Brawl, +1 Turn the Tide. Strike.
From the depth of the shadows a crocodile maw lunged from the side, his jaw slipping
between the elf and the sorcerer, and snapping down with deadly force.
Proklis slammed the necromancer to the ground, striking the rock hard, and Retenay’s
hammer shattered the mummified head.
The Oracle: Turn the Tide Strike result:

Proklis: inflicts +3 Harm; battle progress 8/10.

Ereshki sat collapsed against the slick cave wall, sucking in hyperventilating gasps! Dull
images blurred across her sight, rushing to her. She no longer saw the blood-red thaum through
her eyes.
“Ereshki! Ereshki!” Proklis’ voice seemed near. She felt a hand on the back of her neck.
Retenay gently pulled the war hammer from Ereshki’s trembling grip.
In the darkness, Proklis could see nothing within the lioness mask’s eyes. She still only sucked
gasping breaths. Her hand quickly grasped his collar, and he felt himself pulled to the side as her
arm dragged heavily but her grip clung tight.
Retenay knelt by the Ironsworn, who was human again, and stroked Ereshki’s hair.
Her gasps fell into sobs, and the two gathered her in their arms.
Proklis: Spirit 0/5. Already near despair, he suffers this stress in -2 Momentum; -2/10.
!Action +2 Heart: Endure Stress.

5(3+2) vs. 5 and 4 Weak Hit
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
Ereshki rested, sitting with her arms curled around her pack while Retenay and the
Ironsworn set to the task of destroying the necromancer’s remains: the broken skull into the vat,
and the rings and circlet and occult adornments in a pile. One by one they smashed the gems
with their war hammers, breaking them into shards and dust. The ceremonial dagger itself they
struck at until the gems were crushed, and the crossguard broke from the tang, and the pommel
snapped off the hilt.
Proklis knelt by Ereshki again.
“I’m fine.” She released the pack from her tense grip.
He began assuringly, “If—”
“I’m fine.” Ereshki stood, slipping her arms into the pack’s straps. “We should still check out
the room where we found them first. Maybe they haven’t all risen yet.”
Proklis stood with her, looking up at her. He nodded.
!Action +3 Wits: Delve: Return to the death-pact chamber.

Reveal an Opportunity.
Delve Progress 2/10. Area is low risk…
The Oracle:
Delve Opportunity [45]…
They retraced their steps, not willing to trust their sense of direction in these caverns. Proklis
and Ereshki both remembered the way, and soon they recognized the flowstone wall and began
following it around the familiar bend.
Ahead, they spotted the crevice of limestone entirely free of calcite. The team slowed and
carefully crept forward, steadying themselves on the slick floor with hands against slick walls.
Proklis leaned against the wall near the crevice. He gradually looked in.
Between the shadows of the flickering light, he saw desiccated scraps of robes. There were
now streaks in the dust along the floor, and fragments of human bones. The Ironsworn leaned
further in, looking towards the back wall.
He heard a low, weak rumble similar to that which the other necromancer had made. Proklis
saw thaum begin to glow in the farthest section of the room. Two spots shone out from the dark,
one brighter than the other; the dimmer one looked like an eye.
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The necromancer did not move. As Proklis lifted the torch, he saw a partial body: pelvis
crushed, one arm ending at the elbow, and most of the flesh scraped from his face.
The necromancer’s mandible slackened as it wailed aggressively at the sight of him!
Proklis pulled back.
“I don’t know what happened,” he whispered to the others, “but this one is half broken. He
can see me, though. He can see the light.”
“Don’t underestimate it,” Retenay advised. Proklis nodded agreement.
“I don’t know if it can move,” he said. “We will have to enter in defensively.” They three set
down their packs, and Proklis considered a plan.
Delve Opportunity [45] An aspect of the nature of this place is revealed.
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer; Secure an Advantage against this half-destroyed necromancer.

7 (2+3+1) vs. 4 and 4 Opportunity…
“First, we throw in a torch. He already knows we’re here; stealth is not an option. Then we
move in slowly.” Proklis drew a deep and determined breath. He felt his heart beating atop his
fear, staying it, holding it at bay as his internal strength held him steady. He could feel it in his
heavy exhale.
Proklis’ piercing gaze met the hollow sorcerer’s thaum-filled eyes. The Ironsworn tossed the
torch through the crevice, the wood tocking on the dusty floor. As expected, the necromancer
slowly recoiled from the fire, growling. Proklis resolutely climbed into the chamber. He pulled
his hammer from his belt, decisively unwilling to underestimate this creature. He stood guard as
Retenay and then Ereshki followed him in.
The two elves behind him took their hammers off their belts, and prepared.
Proklis took a step forward...
The Oracle’s luck collapses.

7 (2+3+1) vs. 4 and 4 Opportunity
Crimson light flared throughout the room; bellowing shook their bones as a high-pitched
wail wracked their ears; the shattered corpse clawed like a spider across the floor, catching ablaze
in the torch, and climbed Proklis’ chest, bursting thaum into the Ironsworn’s throat! Proklis
gripped the undead’s neck, reeling back until his shoulders slammed into the wall. Retenay pried
at the necromancer’s bony hands. Ereshki ripped the blazing fabric off of the sorcerer.
Proklis felt searing pain like crackling hot oil pouring into his eyes. His nails clawed into the
flaking flesh on the beast’s face. His back arched and his head tilted back. Proklis screamed his
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entire chest free of air! He became blinded to everything except the red thaum. He couldn’t
breathe! He couldn’t find his way out! He couldn’t—!
Retenay ripped the leathery corpse off Proklis, the body falling with a hollow clatter of dry
bones.
“Proklis! Look—look at me, Proklis!” Ereshki took his shoulders and head in her hands, his
solid form gripped in silent pain. His wide eyes stared at the ceiling. His mouth gaped wide as if
screaming, but his body moved no air.
Foe: half-destroyed necromancer.

Dangerous.
!Action +2 Heart: Enter the Fray: face a half-destroyed necromancer.

!Action +2 Iron…
Expressionless, his head snapped to look at her, his pupils thaum-red.

The Ironsworn tackled Ereshki to the ground, roaring the necromancer’s unnatural bass
rumble. Ereshki screamed, bringing her arm up, shielding her face with her hammer. With his
hands and knees atop her chest, Proklis lifted his hammer above his head and slammed it down.
Trapped beneath his weight, the terrified elf instinctively brought the wider side of her weapon
up like a shield. The force clashed, and came down on Ereshki’s shoulder. She wailed.
The Oracle: …Clash against Ereshki result:

7 (5+2) vs. 10 and 1Weak Hit
Ereshki takes one harm: -2 Health; 1/4.
!Action +2 Heart. Ereshki Endures Harm!
The Oracle: Companion Endure Harm result:

Retenay gripped Proklis from behind and flung him off her! He hit the floor and his hammer
slid away. He writhed for a moment, long enough for the two elves to put distance between him
and them.
Ereshki’s left arm hung limp at her side, her shoulder in horrific pain. They stared at him.
The necromancer’s groan quaked from Proklis’ throat. The Ironsworn pushed himself to his
hands and knees. His teeth were gritted tight. He heaved heavy, unearthly growls.
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!Action +0. Retenay: Strike!
Retenay sprinted for the limp pile of bones, and brought their hammer high! They crashed it
down, obliterating the skull into flying chunks!

Retenay inflicts +2 Harm! Battle progress 4/10.
Ereshki rushed for Proklis’ hammer where it lay between them and threw it to the other side
of the room. She grabbed him from behind as he twisted and faltered to his feet.
!Action +2 Iron, +2 Brawler: Strike with deadly intent.

Ereshki hugged her good arm around him, trying desperately to gain a grip on his arm or
wrist or anything as he struggled against her! “Proklis! Please! Come back!” she cried.
Proklis clasped one hand over his other fist and jabbed his elbow deep into Ereshki’s thigh,
making her drop her weight off it, and his elbow slammed into her ribs, and then finally into her
diaphragm. She doubled over, her breath stunned and burning inside her. In exactly the same
ways she had seen him grapple for sport, the Ironsworn wove from under her shoulders and
locked her around the head! She heard his grunt of violent breath as he struck his forearm into
the already excruciating pain in her shoulder! Ereshki cried out with a wail indistinguishable
from defeat and he bashed her into the floor!
Proklis inflicts +4 Harm.

Ereshki would have taken 4 Harm… but she had only 1 Health left; now 0/4.
!Action +2 Heart: Ereshki: Companion Endure Harm… with 0/4 Health.

There is a strong possibility Proklis has murdered Ereshki…
Ereshki lay where she fell. Her hand tried to grip; her fingers slid through the dust just a bit.
She wheezed weakly...
Dust floated in the air from the struggle. The Ironsworn panted there on his hands and knees,
red eyes darting. His gasping breaths seemed drawn in jagged rasps, as if they were breaking
inside his lungs. Proklis fell to the floor, but his claw-tight hand pushed him upright again.
Behind him, he did not see Retenay dragging a pack into the chamber. The vat’s cork popped
with the pressure of the partially used acid, and as he got to his knees, he could hear splashes just
before—
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!Action +1 Turn the Tide of battle. Retenay: Strike.
Proklis’ actual self fell into the pain of his own body again! His nails dug into his chest, back
arched, and wide eyes staring straight at the ceiling through crimson thaum! He gripped at his
heart while his own, real voice screamed in excruciation! His voice tore with his cries of agony as
the necromancer’s skull bubbled and sizzled in the vat of acid.
Proklis scrambled to his feet, unable to breathe, clutching his chest with both hands—the
blinding red light fading, he could grip control over his body again, stumbling away from the two
elves—he pressed his back against the wall, struggling to keep as far from them as possible.
Proklis sucked a single breath!

!Action: Retenay: End the Fight!
Retenay smashed their hammer down on the mummy’s withered hand, shattering his rings!
Proklis collapsed, his chest slamming against the ground! Retenay smashed the metal circlet, the
shards flying! Proklis cried out, curling into a ball. Retenay ground their hammer against the
gemmed dagger until the final jewel cracked. Proklis’ whole body flinched.
He suffered a few breaths... rolling onto his back... quaking...

Retenay scrambled over to Ereshki, checking her throat and head for blood. She seemed fully
aware, but moaned.
“M—” Ereshki cringed. She didn’t seem to be bleeding.
“What sort of pain do you feel?” Retenay asked.
“My shoulder...” Her eyes gripped tight. “It hurts... so much...”
Across the room, Proklis pushed himself off the floor.
“Did you hit your head?” they urged.
“Yes...” Ereshki rolled, and Retenay helped her to sit up. “Really hard.”
Proklis shook. He couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. His mind refused to accept
what he’d done. He looked over toward the other two... Proklis stood. He backed as far away as
possible, and pressed his back against the wall.
“Do you think you lost consciousness at any point?” Retenay demanded.
“No....” Ereshki lay against the hunter, and heaved a breath of pain. “He dislocated my
shoulder.”
Retenay helped Ereshki sit up comfortably, and gently examined the joint. They put one hand
on Ereshki’s shoulder blade, and held her wrist gently in their other hand.
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“Relax... relax... relax...” Retenay guided her.
Proklis buried his face in his hands at the sound of Ereshki’s wail of pain and the loud pop of
her joint. He felt such powerful shame that he hoped it would kill him.
The Oracle: Companion Endure Harm result:

Ereshki survived, but just barely.
!Action +3 Wits: Heal.

Ereshki stifled sobs as Retenay wrapped a bandage tightly over her shoulder. They then tied a
sling over her strong shoulder so Ereshki could rest the weight of her arm.
Retenay shook their head as they checked the young woman for other wounds. “If you want
to regain full strength and mobility of that arm, you’d better use it only in the direst of
situations.”
Ereshki nodded.
Proklis realized she wouldn’t be able to carry her pack! They would need to get her out of
here and they would have to redistribute the weight of her pack!
Proklis: +1 Momentum (From Retenay Turning the Tide and saving them all); -4/10.
He stepped forward—
Retenay looked over their shoulder at Proklis and he stopped dead in his tracks.
In the completely still light of the room, behind their mask’s eyes, Proklis saw a look unlike
any anyone had ever given him before.
Just as Bonds can be forged, so too can they be tested.
!Action +2 Heart.... Test Your Bond.
The Oracle: Test Your Bond result:

If Proklis can make amends…
Their eyes locked to his with unwavering resolve. Their gaze became a fortress. The exact
kind of gaze of the oppressed when they suddenly fought back.
96
The Oracle: Test Your Bond result:
Proklis: Momentum -4/10 cancels the Oracle’s gift…
2 (+2) vs 6 and 3 Miss
“Leave.”
Proklis’ heart deadened. Sorrow drained down him. His lips parted... but what had he to say?
Ereshki refused to look his way. Sitting there, she held herself like she had never once felt fear
and, if he came even close to her, she would prove it.
Retenay, however, looked at him, wanting him to see that they knew fear very well. And that
he did not frighten them. “Leave.”
97
Kindred Companion Kindred Companion
Retenay Ereshki:
• Skilled in Stealth: Proklis • Shield-Kin: Proklis receives a
receives a +1 from Retenay’s +1 if he and Ereshki Clash,
expertise. When he makes a Battle, or Face Danger against
move outside of combat, they an attack together.
will aid him.
• Bonded: Proklis receives a +1
if he Faces Desolation with
Retenay nearby.
Health Health
0 1 2 3 4 0 1 2 3 4
Companions lost…
98
Bond
Elven Family:
Sutahe, Valadin, Gemmana, and baby Same. They took
Proklis in and cared for him when his life hung by a
thread. He never meant to betray them.
Bond lost…
99
Proklis
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lago and Menna:
Father and mother.
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 Gwyn:
Shaken Older brother.
The Moon:
Vows Binds.
Elmhollow:
The Moon: Epic Hunting camp in the
(Background vow) Deep Wilds.
Sutahe:
Buy her boots.
  
Unspoken Vow: Extreme
Slay the five necromancers.
  ×
Delve
Cavern Corrupted Low Risk
 
100
Proklis
Bind
Active: +1 Shadow
(Unique to Proklis)
Brawler Slayer
improvised weapon:
grappling, clawing, or biting). On an Advantage as he readies himself
for a fight against them. He gets +1
a Hit he inflicts +1 Harm.
Momentum on a Hit.
• Proklis receives +2 when he
Strikes with deadly intent; he
inflicts 2 Harm on a Hit and he
takes -1 Momentum on a Weak
Hit or Miss.
101
Session 6: The Moon’s Vow
!Action +2 Supply: …leave.
Make Camp

One of the slick rocks, far back in the blackness of the deep cavern, breathed.
A crocodile lay among the stalagmites listening to the cave dripping.
Proklis imagined the elves... wondering how they would seal up the entrance.
He knew Retenay had ordered him to leave the caverns... not just them...
...but also them.
He knew they would not want him to stay behind, to be buried alive...
He knew he had time...
Time to choose...
He thought about his dire need to make things right!
And he rejected it...
No one was asking for, and no one would be pleased with, some ridiculous sacrifice... some
noble great act...
He thought about his parents... his real parents.
He would need to see a map again... but he couldn’t be more than a two- or three-week
journey from their home.
The crocodile blinked slowly...
He thought about his vow to Gemmana... to buy her those boots...
...He imagined time on the streets... scraping together enough money for.... A girl who would
no longer want a gift from him.
And he thought of his vow the day before.
He hadn’t said it aloud. No one would know he had forsaken it.
He could leave... undertake another journey... alone... as winter approached... three weeks of
travel to collapse at his mother’s feet, begging her to adopt his vow...
A vow he had not spoken... thus, his parents would use kind words, gently assure him, and
say that an unspoken vow was not a true vow that must be kept.
And he thought about the iron on which he had sworn.
Long ago, when the crane avatar of the Moon had placed that iron in his hands, his vow then
was never spoken. Yet... it had grown inside him ever since. He had chosen it, and lived by it,
self-assured by what it came to mean for him. Who he had chosen to become. He could not
102
imagine being any other way, or what could have been if this... love of who he was wasn’t within
him.
The shadows of the rocks shifted as Proklis stood, the crocodile transforming into human.
Proklis’ dark eyes flashed in the candle light. He held his every vow within his heart…
And he wanted those necromancers dead.
Focus: +1 Momentum; -3/10.
Within his pack he carried food, water, torches, candles, bandages, and a weighty vat of acid.
Around his neck, Proklis carried his iron charm, emptied of the Moon’s blessing. He marked
torch ash through the caves as he trekked. Without Retenay’s help, his tactics had to change.
He strode purposefully through the tunnels with no more patience for stealth. In this
darkness, in this desperation, in this wrathful determination, he had relinquished his crocodile
form... and waited to hear the Moon. He would have no warning... But it would be his only way
of telling time and knowing when he had one more day before the cave was collapsed and he
would be swallowed forever.
He followed blood. He followed dripped gore. Without pause, without second guess, he
seethed.
Bind:
Crocodile form relinquished; -1 Shadow.
Bind inactive. The Moon must give him power once again if he wishes to transform.
!Action +3 Wits: Delve and don’t get lost.

Such middling results within a Delve could be advantageous, or disastrous.
The Oracle:
Delve the Depths with Wits [66]…
In the darkness, in the void with only feint rims of agonizing thaum light, the necromancer
stalked, feeding, chewing, beginning to grasp thought. During years of death and still now with
no heartbeat, it had no memory of being human. Crimson light among the gore brightened
immensely as from the cavernous void a yellow flame blazed.
Proklis rounded a column where stalactite met stalagmite, from behind the splattering stone.
He gripped his torch harshly and flung it the moment the necromancer fell into view! The coal
lodged into the necromancer’s crumbling chest cavity. The creature burst into flame!
103
Delve the Depths with Wits [66] Find an Opportunity.
Foe: The Third Necromancer.

Dangerous.
!Action +2 Heart +1 Opportunity: Enter the Motherfucking Fray!
Without ever a change in his stride, Proklis continued to close the distance.
Screeching, rumbling, and clawing, the corpse rushed down upon him! Proklis snatched its
wrist, wrenched the bony arm. Fire blazed up the corpse, and Proklis slammed his elbow down
into the necromancer’s leathery shoulder. The bone snapped clean off the skeletal sorcerer and
Proklis smashed the entire arm against the cavern wall.

8 (5+2+1) vs. 10 and 1 Weak Hit
Proklis: +1 Momentum (Opportunity Hit), +2 (Enter the Fray Hit); 0/10 total.

Battle: 4/10.
Steady, Proklis turned to glare down upon the necromancer again, the moment seeming to
slow as the creature flailed for its balance while engulfed in flame. And through its changing
position, the opportunity Proklis wanted became clear.
!Action +2 Iron, +2 Brawl. Strike.
The necromancer’s legs bent forward, its shoulders backwards and its skull screeching
towards the roof of the cave! Proklis dug his fingers into the glowing, leathery eye sockets and
kicked out the mummy’s spine!

Battle: 10/10.
104
!Action: End the Fight.

Proklis smashed the leathery skull into the cold stone; the head split open, and the jaw
shattered.
He stood there a moment. Flame surged straight up from the broken torso, filling the cavern
with overwhelming light and greasy smoke. The disembodied head no longer glowed. Proklis
fought the shuddering in his breath. He quieted his soul’s ache and brought his focus back.
The Ironsworn tipped the burning corpse into the trickle of the cave’s water, if not to cease
the smoke then at least to cease the smell. He pulled the urn of acid from his pack and
unwrapped the jar. He cut open the wax that kept it sealed.
Proklis struggled with the mummified head. He pulled at the crack, trying to break it in half,
but some of the flesh was more than just leathery... it was similar to jerky.
Proklis used his hammer to help him break it apart.
With a disgusted grimace, he looked at the flesh. Striations marked parts of the meat. Proklis
scowled. He turned the chunk of head over in his hand. Around the eye socket some of the
muscle seemed to have begun rehydrating. But the striated marks along the forehead looked
somewhat like animal bites.
Proklis brought the flesh closer to the torch. The bites were much larger than a bat’s. They
were more the size of a fox, though not nearly as sharp. It almost looked like a ruminant’s bite...
like something with incisors... but the mark on the edge was that of a canine—
Proklis nearly threw the chunk of corpse when he realized what had gnawed on it!
Those were human bite marks. The necromancers had been gnawing on each other!
Proklis shoved the pieces of head into the vat. It explained so much! Why the one
necromancer in the chamber, the one when he— why it had been partially destroyed!
Why some moved better than others... Why some fought more powerfully than others!
Proklis cringed at the mental image of it. They cannibalized one another to gain an edge towards
full reincarnation.
Proklis ground the gems into dust, realizing now that his race against time was not
necessarily to get out before he was walled in.
!Action +3 Wits. Delve: search everywhere.

The Oracle:
105
Proklis washed his hands in one of the many trickling waterfalls of these underground
springs. It had been ages since he ate.
He pulled a hunk of hard bread out of his pack, and a pouch of roasted nuts and dried
berries. He cut small slices of smoked sausage and had his mini feast. He stared resentfully at the
dried blueberries as he popped them into this mouth one at a time. “At some point I’m going to
have to shit in this cave, aren’t I?”
Delve the Depths with Wits [15] Mark Progress and Reveal a Danger.
Delve Progress 3/10. The Delve is now more Dangerous.
The Oracle:
Delve Danger [86] A resource is diminished.
The vat of acid eats away at the skull…
!Action +3 Wits: Delve: search on.

5 (2+3) vs. 10 and 6 Miss…
Proklis walked along the wall of a chamber so vast he could not see the other sides. Out in the
relentless darkness, no thaum glowed. He watched for it.
He looked up into the cavern ceiling, so high it was invisible in the gloom. It seemed odd how
he hadn’t really found any living bats. He saw the guano, and he knew they were up there
somewhere. The little beasties were just good at hiding, and very silent. They had such big ears.
Maybe all they needed was to hear each other breathe.
!Action +3 Wits: Bind…

5 (2+3) vs. 10 and 7 Miss
!Ask the Oracle: Mystic Backlash

The Oracle: …
He knew them most from seeing them during dusk, in moments when they suddenly darted
down and then were gone even more quickly.
More silent than owls, they seemed to hunt the air itself, dashing between trees like a branch
that never actually falls.
106
No breeze flowed here like breeze flowed out there. Here they slept. A place of comfort. Their
home here invaded. Violated.
Proklis moved along far below them, holding a horribly pungent light. He crawled so slowly...
like how a fat moth flutters.
Humans were a lot like moths actually... their strange love of light and all...
And this one seemed particularly devoted to the Moon.
He wasn’t wanted here in this home for bats. He belonged to the Moon. Bats belonged to the
liminal space between night and day. The Moon belonged to both the Night and Day...
The stars often spoke with the bats. The brightest ones at least.
There is one star so near the sun that it shines at both dawn and dusk. When it transits the
sun they both find laughter and joy! They are close to one another, those two...
The Moon is companion to the Sun and the Stars and spends equal time with both. But
through the whole day the Sun sings so loud that the Moon cannot be heard. But through the
night she herself overpowers all the Stars. And that is why she is so lonely. That is why I speak to
you, little one...
That is why I give you gifts and listen to your wishes.
You cannot seem to hear me when I speak to you during the day. The Sun sings so loud.
And I just want you to know that you are fun, and you are caring.
I saw Ereshki and Retenay. They are safe.
I ask you—will you listen to me?—You attacked her, but I love her.
She is fun and she is caring. But she does not talk to me like you do.
I will miss her when you leave...
I ask you—will you listen?—find a friend. Stop traveling alone...
Proklis felt his breath, cool in his chest, as if waking...
Will you listen—will you vow?—I ask you... stop traveling alone...
Proklis pressed his iron pendant against his heart....
I ask you......—will you vow......
Background Vow: Obey the Moon.
!Action +2 Heart, +1 Bond with the Moon. Swear an Iron Vow.
Proklis’ eyes gently opened about the same time that his torch clattered to the stone, rolling a
bit away, hissing along the slick calcite. Proklis drew a fuller breath, waking... And he looked
down at where his hand pressed the charm against his chest. He drew his hand away, the moon’s
light glowing through his shirt. It gently faded...
Proklis blinked and clutched the pendant. “Yes, I vow...” he breathed.
107
7(4+2+1) vs. 3 and 8 Weak Hit

The Oracle:
Mystic Backlash [85] The ritual reveals a surprising truth.
Bind With the Moon:

Bind Empowered.
Vow
Find a Travel Companion: Troublesome
Every Milestone progresses the Vow by 3
!Action +3 Wits: Delve: search.
Tracking in these caves was an exercise in finding anything that was. Not. Rock.
The blue calcite stone usually appeared in rounded, uneven bumps, or were themselves pea-
sized pebbles. Yet the flowstone down the walls, the stalactites and stalagmites and columns and
dripping straws, were all the same tan limestone. The water itself seemed fresh and safe. It was,
after all, just spring water that hadn’t yet found the surface.
Proklis knelt by one such spring raining out of a hollow rock formation. He drank and filled
his waterskin. He untied his hair and rubbed his wet hands over his face and along his scalp, his
fingers catching on tangles. He pulled his hair back again.
This darkness was starting to get to him. He thought about how he had one more day to hunt
down and slay two constantly empowering, corrupted sorcerers. And then he thought maybe he
wouldn’t bother to hurry.
Proklis flinched, angry at himself for that thought.
He drew a deep breath, and stood. He had made sweeps over the explored parts of the cave
multiple times now, checking if the necromancers were making their way towards the
underground lake. He had, as of yet, found nothing.
Proklis climbed over a jagged set of stalagmites, careful with how his heavy pack affected his
balance. He explored the other side of this room, journeying down a new path... And he never
stopped admiring the beauty of these caves, feeling sorrow for the corruption here wi—
He saw blood on the wall.
108
The Oracle:
Delve Opportunity [82] Opportunity to hunt.
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer, +1 Opportunity. Gather Information.
Proklis lowered his torch, searching the darkness for hints of red glow. Nothing.
The Ironsworn lifted the light again and inspected the streak of blood.
Unless a necromancer was dragging a bat body across the wall... He peered at the shape. The
streak was from a human hand. So, unless a necromancer had covered his hand in blood...
Proklis looked down the passage. The streak was too continuous. This mark had been left by a
bleeding hand. Proklis ventured further down the passage. More spots of blood dotted the cavern
walls ahead.
So, one had regained enough of his body to bleed.

Proklis: +1 Momentum (Slayer), +2 Momentum (Gather Information); Momentum 4/10.
Delve Progress 4/10.
Bind Active:
… +1 Iron
Proklis found his instincts focus in preparation for a fight. He didn’t bother to resist it, to
control his urge to transform. Slowly, his sight changed. The blackness deep along the stone
corridor began to fade to grey; panther eyes could see through the dark farther. The light of the
torch grew harsher in his peripheral vision. He felt his eyes change shape... he felt his nose flatten
and whiskers grow. He needed the torch still... he had to keep his human hands, to stay upright.
But he let his teeth become fangs.
Ahead—Proklis lowered his torch... Ahead he saw the brightest glow of thaum he had seen
yet.
Limping... his bones not fitting together quite right... wearing the ragged, desiccated remains
of thaum-rune robes... a man crept towards the torchlight...
His bulging eyes had no lids; the stringy muscle of his sockets gripped his veiny eyeballs
which twitched every time his gaze shifted. Skin had begun to grow back in web-like patches,
similar to that of deep burn scars. The necromancer trod heavily towards the yellow light. He
stared at the still flames rising off the coals of a torch which lay abandoned on the cavern floor.
The muscle stretching over his jaw clenched and dropped.
109
His chest actually moved as he breathed... head twisting to the side as he gazed into the fire...
curious... or confused...
A deep growl rumbled in the shadows behind the sorcerer. Small, bright yellow eyes shone
through the darkness. Black as the cave, the curves and glint of a panther’s face and thin
shoulders slinked forward. The massive cat snarled...
The necromancer twisted, looking back at the beast. Corrupted thaum pulsated through his
oozing flesh.
Proklis bellowed a wildly screaming roar; his white fangs gleamed more starkly than anything
else throughout this endless darkness!
The necromancer squared against him with his own throaty roar.
Proklis’ feline cry overpowered his, echoing throughout the caverns!
!Action +2 Heart, +1 Slayer: Secure an Advantage with a thunderous battle cry.
The sorcerer strained, lifting his shaking arms, his upturned hands bleeding with the effort!
His screeching maw tilted towards the ceiling, and thousands of tiny bones and bat skulls
clattered against one another, coming together in a writhing mass to create a new shape of some
bear-sized, skeletal horror. The sorcerer didn’t even cringe.

5 (2+2+1) vs. 10 and 5 Miss
Foe: Half-Regenerated Necromancer.

Formidable. (-3 Health per Harm.)
!Action +2 Heart. Enter the Fray.

!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind. Clash!

Proklis’ failed attempt to Secure an Advantage cost him any advantage at all... The Clash result
will cost him more.
Proklis pounced through the swarm of bones, the tiny bat teeth unable to penetrate his thick
fur! Proklis’ claws hooked into the necromancer’s chest and the force of the leap drove them both
to the ground! He ripped at the half-corpse, but the pile of bat bones wrapped around him and
dragged him off. Proklis roared as the tiny bones ground into his joints, straining his muscles as
it bent his body into pressure holds!
110
Foe: Skeletal Horror.
Troublesome.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind. Clash.

Proklis inflicts 1 Harm to the necromancer; necromancer battle progress 1/10.

Proklis takes 1 Harm from Skeletal Horror. -1 Health; 4/5.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind: Endure Harm.

Press on.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind: Clash.
Proklis’ tail whipped to allow him to roll, his agile cat body smashing the tiny bones against
the stone; he wriggled out. Proklis leapt away and slid on his four paws, facing the necromancer
just as a burst of deep ruby thaum overwhelmed his eyes!

8 (5+3) vs. 10 and 9 Miss
!Action +3 Wits: Face Danger by using the terrain.
He dodged away as his sight returned. And in that lull, the necromancer took control. Fleshy
pieces of bat bodies entwined with one another, squishing and twisting into yet another horror.
Proklis’ small feline eyes darted from one to the next, now outnumbered three-to-one.
Proklis backed away, down the passage, knowing the terrain was his only advantage. He had
to keep them lined up or they would surround—

4 (1+3) vs. 5 and 6 Miss
111
Animated by corrupted thaum and slave to fewer laws of nature, the two horrors scrambled
onto the cavern walls, encircling him from above!
Proklis snarled. Absolutely fucking not! The panther lunged!
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind, +2 Brawler, +1 Turn the Fucking Tide! Strike!!
The Oracle: Turn the Tide Strike result:

9 (3+2+1+2+1) vs. 5 and 4 Strong Hit
Fetid thaum poured in globs from above as the panther threaded through, untouched by the
gore. Claws out, eyes dire, Proklis’ maw clamped into the necromancer’s throat! The sorcerer
slammed into a calcite column, and Proklis stayed atop him by piercing his hind claws into the
tough belly muscles. The razor points dragged down deep enough that he hit the pelvis bone!
Proklis ripped his teeth free along with the corpse’s larynx, and wrenched the necromancer down
to the ground with him!
Proklis inflicts +1 Harm (Strike), +1 Harm (Brawler), +1 Harm (Turn the Tide Strong Hit).
Proklis inflicts 3 Harm total.
Half-regenerated necromancer battle progress 4/10.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind, +2 Brawler. Strike!
The roaring necromancer collapsed atop the panther, who bit and clawed from below! His
forepaws tore into the shoulder muscles, gashing long streaks, as his hind paws opened the
stomach cavity, kicking and ripping at the viscera! From above them, the flesh-and-bone minions
slumped down like a falling wave. The cat wriggled beneath the sorcerer’s corpse as animal gore
seeped over him from all sides! He pushed free from beneath them all and leapt back from the
writhing pile of death.

7 (2+2+1+2) vs. 1 and 9 Weak Hit
Proklis inflicts 2 Harm; necromancer battle progress 6/10.

Proklis: -1 momentum (Brawler’s Weak Hit); 0/10.
Skeletal Horror and Fleshy Horror mesh into one foe:

Foe: Combined Horror.
Dangerous.
112
As one complete creature of oozing gore, the three surged above him like a wall of flowing
carrion! Proklis’ ears flattened.
!Action +1 Edge: Face Danger: react fast.
The reeking pieces of corpse slammed down on him, smothering the torch. Proklis struggled
in the pile of scratching and biting darkness!
In the heavy mass of wriggling bones, Proklis slashed and kicked, feeling the tiny bones and
flesh all around him. They moved in unison and began to tear and scathe him! He felt them press
against his joints as if trying to break them off his body! They gashed and scraped through his
skin!

6 (5+1) vs. 10 and 6 Miss
Proklis takes 1 Harm from dangerous foe. -2 Health; 2/5.
Proklis: -1 Supply; 1/5. The torch is smothered.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind. Endure Harm

He thrashed and swiped and kicked, every desperate flail splashing the corpses away from
one another, disconnecting them from the thaum that held them as one. The necromancer would
have to raise them again if Proklis could take this chance to scatter them! But they pressed upon
him, flowing against him as quickly as he kicked them away. Their bones wrenched into him,
pushing into his muscles, making every movement its own battle—and a painful one.
Desperately, instinctively, he turned his feline limbs away from the pressure and allowed them to
bend and transform into human shape again! Proklis struggled in the mass of rot.

6 (1+3+1+2) vs. 10 and 1 Weak Hit
The Oracle gives him only 1 luck; Proklis is beat out of his Bind form.
Proklis inflicts 2 Harm on combined horrors; Battle Progress 4/10.

Proklis suffers 1 Harm; -2 Health; 0/5.
113
!Action +2 Iron: Endure the pain.
Proklis arched his back and rotated to pour the weight off his core. He got an arm up, barely
able to steal breaths under the crushing mass. The bones and claws and teeth scraped and
battered him, pushing his limbs against their joints, crawling around him and inflicting muscle-
tearing pressure. Proklis tore at the gore, trying to throw it off him. Burning torment intensified
in his shoulder, his thigh, his thumb as the bones tried to break his joints apart! The weight
shifted atop him and pressed on his chest, then on his throat!

3 (1+2) vs. 5 and 3 Miss
He can’t handle any more Harm, and he failed to Endure the pain… Proklis is suffocating.
!Ask the Oracle: Does Proklis Face Death?

The Oracle:
Proklis’ Fate…
From the depths of the slime and fetid gore, the sorcerer grasped Proklis by the shirt and
clawed his way up onto the Ironsworn’s chest. The bat bodies pressed Proklis down,
immobilizing him! The sorcerer-corpse grasped him by the throat, his half-regenerated fingers
squishing and bleeding with the strain. Thaum glowed in the pitch blackness and Proklis looked
up into the maw of brown teeth!
Crimson light began to shine deep within the sorcerer’s throat.
!Action +2 Iron: fight or die. Clash.
Proklis’ knee slammed up, scattering bat bodies from atop him! He twisted his shoulder until
he could bend his arm. His elbow bashed into the necromancer’s head. He knew he had this one
chance! The risen bats already poured back over him, crushing him, trying to drag him back
down. In the light of crackling thaum, Proklis grabbed the sorcerer by the side of the head and
with all the force of fearing his own assured death, he smashed the skull into the cavern floor.
Proklis’ Fate [67] Battered but still fighting.

Proklis inflicts 2 Harm to half-regenerated necromancer; battle progress 8/10.

114
!Action: finish off the necromancer.

!Action +2 Iron: fight off the risen horrors! Strike!
!Action +2 Iron: fight off the excruciation! Endure Harm!
The light of the necromancer’s thaum vanished, and darkness afflicted his senses. He
struggled in the pile of dead slop! He had no weapon. No claws. He heard his own desperate
gasps, and the squishing and peeling of raw meat against raw meet. The gore piled onto his chest,
then his throat. His lungs burned. The thaum-corrupted bodies pinned him against the cold
stone! The clammy flesh wriggled and squeezed. He felt his temples growing hot as his body
began to suffer from no air. Proklis fought and tried to thrash. The tiny bones ground again and
again into his joints! The pressure in his burning lungs matched the pressure in his burning
sinew. He struggled to move. Then he found himself struggling less... and less...
And finally...

His -2 Momentum cancels the Oracle’s luck. Pointless… excruciating and excruciating still.
2 (2) vs. 4 and 4 Complication

Proklis’ -2 Momentum cancels the Oracle’s luck… Ah. Hope and then dire.
2 (2) vs. 3 and 9 Miss
And now Proklis is in a grave situation. His fate is in the hands of the Oracle.
!Ask the Oracle: Does Proklis Face Death?
The mound of bones and gore shifted... rolling off of the two bodies... the one of its master
rendered powerless... the other of the Ironsworn...
No glow of thaum remained in the necromancer, once again reduced to death, once again
forced to begin regeneration from nothing. The bones and flesh, now risen, moved about on their
own: just another night crawler.
The undead mass scraped and bled, wandering sluggishly without a master.
The sound faded... the cavern’s continuous dripping became the dominant sound...
115
Proklis opened his eyes to absolute darkness. He struggled to keep his breath quiet.
The Oracle:
Proklis’ Fate [39] Proklis is reeling. If he doesn’t stop fighting, he will Face Death.
!Action +2 Shadow: Stop. Fighting.

The Oracle: Compel result:
3(1+2) vs. 2 and 3 Weak Hit
The horrors thought their blood-task was finished. Battle fled.
He gulped and tried to move. He managed to shift his weight just enough to take some
pressure off his wrenched joints. His hand sought out his surroundings in the blackness. The
necromancer’s corpse squished under his nails. Proklis groaned in disgust and rolled away. He
curled in on the pain from the absolute beating he just took.
And there was one necromancer yet to go.
Suppressing stiff gasps, Proklis rolled to his side and tried slowly to sit up. His lungs still
burned; his aching diaphragm struggled to help. “F-fucking hell...” Carefully he tried to get to his
feet. “A-ah! Ow!”
Playing dead had worked. But there had been horrific moments where he believed it would
not have been fake for long.
Dizzy, battered, and entirely disoriented in the unremitting darkness, Proklis returned to his
knees. He felt around, his hands running over slick stone, gooey softness, flowstone, lumpy
calcite formations, into a cold puddle, and finally to his pack. Proklis gasped a sigh of relief.
With shaking hands he pulled his last torch from his bag and struck the flint and steel. On the
second strike a small ember glowed. On the third strike, another ember, and a sulphureous flame
flared between the two.
Proklis instantly turned his attention back to the necromancer. The Ironsworn heaved a few
breaths, watching, ready with the torch if it so much as flinched. Its eyeballs remained pitched,
jaw and body slack.
Proklis snatched the hammer off his pack and without hesitation slammed it down into the
temple of the skull which caved with a wet crack!
Proklis’ stomach instantly rolled and he looked away! Of all the gruesome fights he’d seen, of
all the beasts he’d disemboweled with his own claws, that had to be the most violent thing he’d
ever done.
Blood and brain oozed out around the hammer’s edge. There was something so different
about it. Because the necromancer was human... or at least looked human. The muscles and flesh
and blood and brains were so much worse than just cracking open a dry, mummified skull.
Proklis cringed. And the eyes...
He looked over his shoulder at the vat, then back at the sorcerer’s stringy body. He steadied
his stomach.
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The bone crunched! Proklis struck again. The skull cracked! He closed his eyes. His fingertips
reached into the soft flesh, the brains easily slipping and separating to allow him in. He
wrenched. He felt the wettest split as much as he heard it.
“Guh!” Proklis heaved, barely willing to take a breath. He shook in disgust. But the skull was
in two. From his belt he took the small knife that he knew he would never again use for cutting
rations, and sawed the bone free of the muscle and skin still clinging to the face.
Proklis opened the vat, and without looking dropped the piece of head in, but he was not
prepared for the smell of acid on fresh flesh!
Proklis jerked away, pressing his arm against his nose and mouth!
And he had one necromancer yet to go.
Proklis allowed himself to be disgusted. He continued breaking and severing in order to get
the full head into the vat.
Of course you’re disgusted! He shouted within himself. It would be awful if you weren’t! Of
course what you’re doing is horrific! It’s horrific and it’s necessary.
There were still brains on the hammer while Proklis shattered and ground up the sorcerer’s
jewels. He reasoned, Maybe you will have nightmares about this! Good! Take that as a sign that
you didn’t do this to be a monster!
Proklis found another rock formation that splattered clean water. He washed his hands, and
washed his hammer, and washed his hands, and washed beneath his nails, and took off his shirt,
and washed and washed and washed!
Proklis sat in the dim light, elbows on knees, hands on head, far back and staring across at the
vat and his pack and a decapitated human corpse.
The torch laying on the stone burned straight up in the perfectly still air. The shadows
streaked in every direction, and Proklis stared unblinking for so long that the light caused lasting
tints when he looked away.
The vat was completely full from...—He steeled his stomach again—the two skulls added to it.
Three vats. They had been given three vats.
The first two necromancers had gone into Retenay’s. The next two into this one.
He remembered the scholar who had synthesized the acid saying he had given them only a
little more than they needed.
Proklis ducked his head.
The acid had stopped sizzling. And he now knew night crawlers roamed the caves. Proklis
ran his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh. He folded his hands in front of his face and
looked at the vat again.
“Okay.” His mind turned. Retenay and Ereshki had left the caves, that much he knew. But
with her dislocated shoulder she would not have been able to carry a pack. Retenay would have
lightened their own pack as much as possible to only carry what was absolutely necessary. Proklis
was as much of a survivalist as they were. He imagined himself in their position; what would he
have left behind? The vat, for sure. Not the water or the first aid. Probably would have left the
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food behind since between them they could have easily found their way back. But would he take
all the extra torches or the candles? Now that was a toss-up.
!Action +2 Iron: Proklis has spent a little time resting. Heal.

“Okay.” Proklis stood and immediately groaned from the unbelievable stiffness that had set
in throughout his body. He took a few limping steps. “Walk it off. Walk it off, Proklis.”
He grunted as he picked up his extremely light pack. Two candlesticks clacked in there. He
had water, the hammer of course, and that gory knife which he hoped to leave behind when this
was all done.
Proklis: +2 Health; 2/5.

Proklis: -1 Supplies; 0/5.
Debility: Unprepared: There is nothing in these caves that can help except for whatever Ereshki
and Retenay left behind.
!Action +3 Wits: Delve.

Delve progress 5/10. The Area’s Risk is increasing. Here it’s Dangerous, sometimes Formidable.
The Oracle:
Delve Opportunity [77]…
Proklis followed the ash marks he had set upon the walls. Having always streaked them to his
right when exploring deeper, now he simply kept them to his left to find his way out. It was a
method he’d learned very long ago, one that he had used a dozen times in stone deserts and in
long-dead river canyons. But there had always been those moments of being lost, worrying, and
trusting that his past self hadn’t fucked up. And then he would recognize his path again.
He remembered a few notable times where he’d gotten himself so embarrassingly lost that he
finally just climbed straight up somewhere to get a look at the terrain. Usually, he could find a
tree he could squirrel his way up, but at least twice he just clambered up an entire cliff face.
Proklis rounded a column that had melded with flowstone. That would not work here.
He caught sight of movement far away.
Delve Opportunity [77] Someone, or something is here.
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It clattered like bones and shied from the light. Proklis waved the torch forward and the night
crawler withdrew.
He recognized it as the one that had tried to crush him. He looked down the path he had been
following, then back at the night crawler with an annoyed gaze. He could keep going. Without its
master, it clearly feared the light. But...
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer, +1 Opportunity: Secure an Advantage: assess the beast.

7 (3+3+1+1) vs. 1 and 10 Weak Hit
Proklis: +1 Momentum (Opportunity Hit), +1 Momentum (Slayer Hit), +1 Momentum (Secure

an Advantage Weak Hit); 0/10 total.
The smell of this night crawler was unique. This thing wasn’t fleshless. Proklis could smell the
grease from the decaying skin. He calmly leaned his torch against a dry spot, and slipped his pack
from his shoulder. He picked one of the candles out of it and lit the wick on the torch.
“I kind of feel sorry for you,” Proklis lied, and then shoved the entire candle deep into the
glob!
!Action +3 Wits: Battle quick, and smart.
The greasy meat burst into flames! Proklis ducked away from the sudden blaze, the heat and
light burning far more powerfully than he expected! The night crawler screeched in a ghostly
wail, folding in upon itself, unable to put out the flames as more meat became exposed to the air.
The tiny bat bones within the fire cracked from the heat, including every skull. They snapped and
burst, leathery wings fanning the fire.
Proklis backed away in horror, covering his mouth, choking back tears. He couldn’t look
away. The little bat bodies... the melting oil... the tiny teeth in the cracking skulls... the little furry
bundles that didn’t ask for this.
Tears dripped from Proklis’ eyes. No... that was the most violent thing Proklis had ever done.
The Oracle: Battle result:

Proklis: 0/5 Spirit. He suffers the Stress in -1 Momentum; -1/10.
“They were already dead,” Proklis sobbed to himself. “You didn’t kill the bats. You killed a
night crawler. They were already dead.”
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Proklis: +1 Momentum (Strong Hit Endure Stress); 0/10.

Proklis is still pained by the Debility: Shaken with 0/5 Spirit. Proklis struggles to push on.
The caves stretched back for hours. In retracing his steps, he realized just how far he’d
explored.
Proklis’ head stung. He had barely slept. He was hungry.
The most familiar portion of the caves, the part nearer the entrance, did not give him the
relief of assuredly knowing his way out like he’d assumed it would. He began to shake. Every
specifically recognizable formation created a new, jagged piece of fear in him. He began down the
corridor that would lead to the chamber where... where the sorcerers had created their death
pact... where they had first realized... where...
Proklis swallowed back fear. He pressed his shaking shoulders against the cold wall.
“Why am I doing this?” he sputtered. “Why am I in here? Is this really so important to me? Is
it really worth anything to me?”
He covered his face, quivering. He felt like he couldn’t breathe! “They’re becoming extremely
powerful! It could take weeks to get anyone here who could eradicate them! In just one day
they’ve... I can’t... I...”
Proklis gasped, his head reeling! He curled against himself, sliding down the wall, burying his
face in his hand. “I don’t want to die in here! I don’t want to—I just—I want to see the sky! I want
to see the sky once more!”
Proklis wept, holding that wish inside him. “I just want to see the sky once more...”
Proklis: Spirit 0/5.

-2 Momentum; -2/10.

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Proklis
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lago and Menna:
Father and mother.
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 Gwyn:
Shaken Unprepared Older brother.
The Moon:
Vows Binds.
Elmhollow:
The Moon: Epic Hunting camp in the
Obey the Moon Deep Wilds.
Sutahe:
Buy her boots.
  
    
The Moon: Troublesome
Find a travel companion.
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Proklis
Delve
Every successful waypoint progresses the Delve by 1/2
And increases the Area’s Risk.
Cavern Corrupted Dangerous
    
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Proklis
Bind
Active: +1 Shadow
(Unique to Proklis)
Brawler Slayer
improvised weapon:
grappling, clawing, or biting). On an Advantage as he readies himself
a Hit he inflicts +1 Harm.
Momentum on a Hit.
• Proklis receives +2 when he
Hit or Miss.
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Session 7: The Final Necromancer
Proklis had cried himself to exhaustion. He trudged up along the crack in the wall. The light
tan pack, set off by the darker stone, sat abandoned nearby. He knelt and uncinched Ereshki’s
pack. The vat of acid had remained intact. Wrapped in wax paper, Proklis found hard bread and
cheese. One torch, one candle. No bandages. No sutures. Nearby, the war hammer lay, its metal
glistening as much as the wet stone. Proklis let his fingertips barely touch it.
He looked back at the bag and swallowed. He took the few things left that he carried and
nestled them in, and then folded up his own pack and tucked that in as well. Proklis hefted the
supplies onto his shoulders and picked up the torch again. He’d never felt quite this dead inside.
He didn’t want to look into the chamber. He didn’t. He couldn’t feel anything more powerful
than his desire to back away from that room. He didn’t want to look! But, he asked himself, are
you willing to look? You don’t have to want to. You just have to be willing to.
Proklis lifted the torch into the death-pact chamber. The vat Retenay had used still sat within.
The dust patterns showed the struggle they’d had within. The burnt scraps of cloth. A stick of
charcoal that had been a torch. And nothing else except the memory of how that room had
looked though thaum-red eyes.
Now, Proklis had a hard time turning his back to it. He shook.
!Action +3 Wits. Delve: search.

The Oracle:
!Action +2 Heart. Endure Stress…
He did not know how long he wandered.

Proklis hadn’t rested in so long. He hurt. He was so hungry.
The Ironsworn did not light a new torch when the one he held began to die. Instead, he sat
and touched a candle to the last of the flame. Proklis set the candle before him, and laid down the
glowing ember at the end of the spent stick. He ate. And all he wanted was to lie down.
Proklis laid on his side and watched the perfectly still flame. He didn’t have time to sleep. He
just wanted a moment to rest. He watched the candle wax warm and build up on itself. He waited
for it to spill. The thin wall around the wick grew more and more transparent on one side,
seeming to be ready to give at any moment. But Proklis never saw it happen, because—
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You are not alone.
I cannot see you—can you hear me?
There is worry, there is fret. I feel worry, I feel fret. But you are not alone.
Perhaps one day you will not be alone for longer than this.
I must go. I am falling away from you.
Proklis woke to the Moon’s glow within his iron pendant. The candle in front of him was a
cold puddle of wax. As the Moon’s glow faded into the iron. Proklis frantically grabbed his last
torch and rapidly struck the steel against the flint. “No! No!!”
The torch flared and Proklis scrambled to his feet. “No!!”
But the Moon had spoken to him. It was the third day. He had fallen asleep. Proklis quivered;
he was blocked in. The elves by now would have buried him alive.
Despair flooded over the young man. His mind raced to thoughts of his mother, his father,
his brother, everyone he would never see again! He would starve in this darkness! He would
starve long after his every supply of light gave out! He imagined sitting in void, waiting for death.
He couldn’t imagine waiting hours in absolute blackness. Two weeks to starve! Two weeks in
nothingness! And then he imagined the necromancer still alive within these caves. He realized
the necromancer would kill him first. It would eat him, and the four bodies of the other sorcerers,
and his power would grow until his corrupted thaum seeped into the wilds, raising the dead.
Proklis felt himself blanch. And he would be one of those risen dead.
“No! NO!!” Proklis threw back his head, and as he screamed his teeth became fangs, and his
cry became a panther’s roar.
“I will die in here!” he screamed, “But I will not be made a slave!!”

When he Delved with Wits…
The Oracle:
Delve the Depths [39] Mark Progress and Reveal a Danger.
With that Progress…
!Action +0 Supply. Make Camp.

+1 Momentum (focus); -1/10.
+1 Health (recuperate); 3/5.
With that Danger…
The Oracle:
Delve Danger [77] Confront a harrowing situation.
He didn’t make it out in time.
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!Action +3 Wits. Listen to the Moon… Bind.
Proklis: Spirit 0/5.
-2 Momentum (Bind Weak Hit); -3/10.

Delve progress 6/10. Area Risk: Formidable.
!Action +3 Wits. Delve.
The Oracle:
Proklis tossed his torch into the death-pact room, this time with rage. He climbed over the
crack in the wall and slid into the miserable, putrid chamber! Proklis picked up the torch and
searched. After walking so far away, he had turned right back around and come here. Those
necromancers had walled themselves into a dry cave. They had mummified. They must have
been sealed away from the flowing waters of the bat warrens. Proklis turned around. What exit
had they sealed?
He examined the wall where streaks of blood had dried from long ago. One of the
necromancers had had second thoughts after being entombed alive. He had clawed at the wall as
if desperate for escape.
Proklis ran his hand along there, searching for seams in the rock. They must have had an
escape plan. It would not have been a physical one. It would be something where they had to
combine their magic. Or rather eat one another to absorb enough magic.
He scraped his boot over the floor, looking for runes, or alchemical symbols, or geometric
absurdity, or whatever these fuckers used.
He looked up.
There, in the very center of the ceiling, he saw a perfectly pentagonal hole, five small runes
carved at each point.
“Found you.”
Proklis walked in a circle, staring up at the hole from every angle. It was not meant for a
human to escape through. So high in the ceiling, it was a one-way entrance to a tomb.
Glaring up at the hole, Proklis paced like the panther within him. Could he follow the
necromancer out? Had he already escaped? If Proklis let him regain enough power to unseal the
exit, would he be able to defeat the sorcerer afterwards? If he waited for that opportunity, would
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he be out of light, hungry, too weak to win that fight? If he returned to the warren entrance and
screamed and banged his hammer, would the elves hear him and dig him out?
Proklis sat back against the wall, elbows on knees, glowering at the hole above. He rested.
Every option felt like an incalculable gamble.
He drank from his waterskin. Shaking his head. Pissed.
The Oracle: Delve result:

The Oracle:
Depths Opportunity [9] A hidden path is revealed.
Delve progress 7/10. This area is Extremely dangerous.
!Action Locate Your Objective for the Bat Warrens.

The Oracle: Locate Your Objective result:
!Action +2 Iron. Rest. Heal.

“Enough,” the Ironsworn growled. He decided, If he’s escaped, I follow him out, rally forces,
and hunt him down. If not... we’ll see who walks away and who spends eternity as a pile of bones.
Proklis tossed the empty waterskin aside. He was as rested and fed as he was ever going to be.
Proklis: +2 Health; 5/5. -1 Momentum; -4/10.
Proklis didn’t bother putting his pack with the vat in it back on. There was no way he’d be
able to get it up there. He would leave it here and drag the body back to it if he had to. Proklis
grabbed the last candle from the bag. With the torch and wax both in hand, he thought to
himself, I chose this.
With a final glance back at the scar in the wall that led back into the familiar caverns, Proklis
let his teeth transform into a panther’s maw. He placed the torch and the candle his mouth and
clenched them there.
Black fur rippled over the Ironsworn’s body. His hands rounded into paws, his hind legs
gained lithe power, his tail curled out into blessed balance, and his kitty ears flicked. Proklis
bounded up through the pentagonal hole.
Bind Active:
Panther: +1 Iron.
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The chamber he’d leapt into looked to be just more cave, only here the stone lay dry and
ashen.
The rock formations had long stopped growing. They seemed so dull compared to the
glistening caverns before. Here the stone had cracked with the slowly shifting earth. It felt
deathlike.
Proklis gently set the candle down, letting it slip from his maw while still holding the torch. It
rolled a bit around the fatter end, but it nestled into the curve of the stone and he saw it would
not move farther. Proklis tilted his head just enough to bring the torch to the candle. Proklis
flattened his panther ears; he could feel the heat on his head, but not close enough to get singed.
The wax melted away near what was meant to be the candle top until finally the sideways wick
caught and held its own yellow flame.
After he’d defeated the necromancer—and inwardly he dryly laughed at acting like he
would—he could drag the body back until he saw this light. For now, he would just try to
memorize the path.
Sure, he thought, memorize it to follow it back in the pitch black. Easy. The panther snorted,
making the torch flutter. Why bother making a better plan? He didn’t believe he’d need it.
This cave did not have the twisting passages of the bat warrens. It simply withdrew back into
seemingly unending shadow. The panther picked up the pace; no use for stealth when carrying a
torch. His ears curved to the side, then forward again, searching for any sound or even an echo.
There were none.
He watched the stone ahead and as it passed beneath his paws. Just solid rock. No dust, no
dirt, nothing he could track, no clue if anyone, sorcerer or no, had ever come this way.
At last, the passage emptied into a massive chamber. The dry rock hung down and jutted up
like cave formations, yet they crumbled and the striations were long dulled. Deep and throughout
this cavern no water trickled or dripped. The cave here had dried up and died long ago.
The light in his mouth made streaks of shadows which rotated quickly around the rubble as
he trotted forward.
This torch smells much more like tar than the others, Proklis noted. He hadn’t really noticed
until then. The panther slowed.
That wasn’t the smell of his own torch.
!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer, +1 Opportunity. Gather Information.
Proklis’ ears flattened and he instinctively crouched. Either someone else was here, or the
final sorcerer had gained enough awareness to light a torch or brazier of his own.
Proklis felt his pulse quicken. He dropped his light from his teeth and began to creep along
the shadows...
Absolutely no airflow passed through this cave. He could not follow the scent like tracking
with the wind. Proklis relied purely on whether the smell of the tar and smoke grew stronger. He
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searched the far reaches of the cave, looking for some necessary passage. But his feline eyes were
beginning to reach their limit in this low light. He looked back at the distant glow of the torch,
then into the darkness again. Just a little farther, he decided.
Proklis kept close to the cavern wall, following the curve of the stone. The smell flooded his
sinuses and started to become unbearable. Yet soon, he began to see the glow ahead.
Proklis crouched. He stalked the yellow light.

6 (1+3+1+1) vs. 5 and 9 Weak Hit
Proklis: +1 Momentum (Weak Hit), +1 (Slayer); -2/10.
As he watched, creeping through the darkness, a deep crimson glow began to overpower the
brazier’s hue. He could see now the outline of a straight edge to the shine towards his left. A
doorway was set into the cave wall. Proklis continued closer and gazed inside.
A massive room lay before him, so long that he could sprint the length and easily gain decent
speed. The wall with the doorway was straight, carved stone, as were the two long walls to either
side. The floor and extremely high ceiling were uneven but overall flat. The final wall was a
shallow, unfinished, alcove.
And there at the far end of the room, facing away from the door, the final necromancer stood.
He wore faded, desiccated robes, and his skin had nearly covered all his muscles in pink and
white flesh. Except for one hand. No skin, nor muscle, nor sinew covered his right hand. He
moved it naturally with bone and thaum alone.
And beyond the sorcerer, back in the alcove, something enormous held the necromancer’s
full focus. It looked like the petrified bones of some unknown creature. Proklis stared, unable to
quite understand what this massive thing could be. The skeleton lay like a horse, though much
larger in size than one. Huge claws extended from long paw-like bones, with an enormous claw
on the back of each wrist. It had hardly any tail, and the creature’s backbone did not seem to
allow much bend, more similar to a ruminant’s than a cat. Likewise, the spine extending up along
the neck curved into a regal, if nightmarish, skull: large eye sockets, long jaw, three rows of
jagged teeth; yet the most notable feature grew from the skeleton’s forehead. A single twisting
horn adorned this eldritch horror.
Proklis’ stomach soured; he felt just slightly dizzy. He consciously stopped holding his breath.
Now, Proklis, he told himself. Now.
!Action +1 Shadow, +1 Slayer. Secure an Advantage.
Low and silent, Proklis crept along the length of the room. The sorcerer just stood there in a
miasma of thaum. Proklis couldn’t see what was happening to the petrified horror, and instead
kept his focus on his prey. His tail tested his balance, waiting for when he felt confident that his
pounce would strike deep—
For a blink of a moment the necromancer’s ruby glow vanished.
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Immense pressure struck Proklis with a blinding flash of thaum! The panther slammed back,
sliding along the stone on his side. The cat twisted his tail and clawed his way upright.
Whips of white and crimson thaum lashed through the air. The glare filled the room as the
necromancer turned to look at Proklis.
Still with no eyelids or lips, the sorcerer’s head tilted in confusion, staring with bulging eyes at
him. The necromancer rumbled a deep growl.
Proklis’ roar echoed!

Proklis: +1 Momentum (Slayer), +1 (Weak Hit); 0/10.
The Final Necromancer

Extreme
Inflicts -4 Health per Harm.
When taking Harm: 1 Harm fills only ½ of a box.
!Action +3 Wits. Enter the Fray.
A whip of white light lashed out.

Proklis sprang into the air, furling to dodge to the side, but this form was not as agile as it was
powerful. The magic struck him and flung him even farther away. The panther slammed into the
uneven floor. He rolled to his feet without stopping to regain the breath knocked from him.

7 (4+3) vs. 7 and 8 Miss
Proklis is too far away to attack.
!Action +1 Edge. Face Danger.
The panther found himself backing away from the lashing magic, unable to find an
opportunity to move in. He had been forced to the far end of the room; the necromancer filled
the entire length of the chamber with streaks of crimson and purple thaum, and lashing, white
whips of light!
The necromancer turned away, back to his petrified beast, thinking little of the cat and letting
his magic passively protect him.
Proklis ducked as light lashed overhead. He snarled, and wove to avoid the next. The panther
leapt over the thrashing magic, and ducked in. He sprang through the moments between whips!
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Daring the length of the room, he bounded over the white thaum as it curled and whipped
against the floor. He ducked as the next rope of light cracked in the air. Proklis closed the
distance, and leapt! The Ironsworn roared with claws splayed!

Proklis’ claws dug into the necromancer’s back! His tail whipped around, throwing his body
weight to the side to drag deep gashes down the sorcerer’s arm as he whipped in between the
necromancer and his skeletal beast. Proklis’ hind legs coiled with the landing and the panther
sprang up immediately. With an unyielding roar, Proklis’ claws hooked into the sorcerer’s chest
and the pounce pushed him to his back with a horrific crack of bone!

Proklis inflicted 2 Harm but… battle progress 1/10.
Foe has initiative; he is in control of the flow of battle.
The thaum and lashing light sparked into nothingness! Fully atop the necromancer, Proklis’
claws split deep gashes through the sorcerer’s torso. Blood too liquid and blood too gelled
splattered over the desiccated clothes and Proklis’ paws! He sank his teeth into the necromancer’s
neck and shoulder, thaum and sallow ichor gushing out.
Seemingly without pain, the necromancer grabbed the panther’s neck and face; he stretched
his flesh-pink maw, revealing withered, black gums and clay-colored teeth. The ruby shine
flickered and intensified deep in his throat. But Proklis knew this game.
The Ironsworn bashed his paw over the sorcerer’s jaw! His claws raked red gashes through
the thin skin and wiry muscle, which ripped and hung off the bone.

Proklis inflicts 2 Harm; battle progress 2/10.
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Proklis ducked away. He felt no pain in his eyes, nor disconnection from his core. The
necromancer’s knees lifted, then his spine arched up until his shoulders followed upright, and
finally his gory head. Proklis prowled in an arc around him.
The necromancer stared at Proklis. “Khov lobukh av ses.”
Proklis didn’t recognize the language, but he knew the necromancer addressed him. The way
he looked at him, the way he’d said it, Proklis understood that the sorcerer knew he was no mere
cat. He prowled back the other way, ready.
The sorcerer’s neck cracked as he tilted his head a bit too far to look back over his shoulder at
the fossilized horror. “Thas.”
He looked to Proklis again, his muscles clenching into a horrific attempt at a smile. “Bas ech
baliyaq.”
It didn’t sound like any incantation. It sounded like a threat.
The sorcerer yanked his dagger from a sheath beneath his crumbling clothes, and Proklis
bounded back in defense, never taking his eyes from his foe. The undead man shouted to the
high ceiling with the familiar piercing wail and rumble so low it shook the stone, and he plunged
the blade beneath his own ribs!
Proklis crouched and snarled, his ears flat against his head. He took a step back, unsure what
to expect. The sorcerer vomited thaum, then looked at him and laughed.
Behind the necromancer, a hollow clatter shifted against the stone. The skeletal eldritch
cracked as it swayed its head. Proklis recoiled, then roared his panther cry! The horned creature
leaned, reached out a wide stance, and rose to its claws. The skeleton shook the dust from its
bones. Proklis didn’t hesitate.
The panther dashed and leapt onto the creature’s shoulder blade, and clamped his teeth into
the vertebrae just behind its skull! Pain shoved into his paws as his claws raked petrified bone; his
jaw flared with pain as his teeth bit into rock! The skeletal beast reared and tossed back its head.
Proklis released his grip. He stretched and turned midair, and landed facing the necromancer
and his pet. He panted for a moment. This just got a lot more complicated.
The petrified beast turned towards him; he stared up into its maw and the rows of razor teeth.
The panther darted his gaze back to the necromancer, then pounced! The sorcerer roared his
own rumbling challenge!
Proklis’ teeth latched onto the sorcerer’s throat. The panther twisted his head; the windpipe
ripped away from the spine, and tore the skin open all the way to the collarbone. The panther
landed and growled. The larynx hung free with blood seeping rather than flowing from the
wound. Proklis’ nerves fell as the heat of terror drained through his mind. He stared at what
would likely be his own night crawler future.
Eldritch, razor teeth gnashed towards the panther, who bounded away from the skeleton. He
slid along the stone then leapt, his fangs sinking into the stringy meat of the sorcerer’s arm,
which squished too easily; his teeth sank so deep they scraped down the bone as Proklis tore the
132
loose flesh away! The meat hung over the elbow, laying bare the bone and tendon beneath. The
necromancer turned his un-lidded glare upon the panther. The petrified beast charged.

Proklis inflicts 3 Harm; battle progress 3/10. Proklis has taken back control of the fight.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind, +2 Brawler, Strike.
In the heartbeat between gallops, Proklis saw the beast’s broad stance. He leapt between the
clacking claws and slid between its legs. With a coil and pounce, Proklis’ maw clenched into the
necromancer’s side! The skeletal pet turned.
Flaring thaum burst all around him and the panther fell away. It flowed from the sorcerer like
a gale of fire. Proklis braced himself as the pressure passed over him, ears back and snarl bared.
The thaum burned Proklis, but fuck the pain! He lunged and his fangs tore the flesh from the
sorcerer’s calf!

10 (6+2+1+2) vs. 6 and 1 Strong Hit.
The action score was greater than 10, and has been adjusted to 10.
Proklis inflicts 3 Harm; battle progress 5/10. Proklis retains initiative.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind, +2 Brawl. Strike!
Ruby, crimson, and rancid wine red thaum sparked in the air, flaring like popping embers!
The necromancer wailed his rage to the ceiling.
Proklis could claw and tear bone from joint, but he knew that at some point he would need to
break that skull, or this would never end.
The skeletal beast champed at him and the panther batted the maw away, his claws
screeching on the petrified jaw. He ran beneath the creature again and pounced! He jumped
against the sorcerer and drove him onto his back, slamming his foe’s skull into the stone on
impact. Thaum-sparking hands grabbed for him, but the cat leapt aside. The necromancer’s legs
rose first, and as his spine began to arch and leave the floor, Proklis pounced on his chest,
bashing the sorcerer’s head down again! He heard a crack.

!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind, +2 Brawl. Strike!!
133
Proklis would not yield. He did not want to let up! The thaum singed him, the necromancer
roared, but Proklis had no other recourse. Another burst of thaum burned the air, but Proklis let
it rage over him. If he could end this, if he could actually stop this man from—
Petrified claws ripped down Proklis’ back. Blood flowed into his fur, and razor teeth closed
around his upper body, sinking deep into his muscles as he felt himself yanked into the air. Then,
a glimpse of the stone wall before—
The eldritch beast smashed the panther against the unfinished rock. It let him fall from its
maw.
A ringing din of pain deafened the Ironsworn. He sucked in cold pants of air. He tried to get
a paw beneath himself, but it only slid over the floor. The panther writhed.
Rows of teeth bit into Proklis again and picked him up. His blood dripped. He had so little
breath. The beast reared and flung the panther into the wall! He slumped to the ground, lying on
his bleeding back, dazed into near unconsciousness.

8 (3+2+1+2) vs. 8 and 10 Miss
Proklis takes 1 Harm. -4 Health; 1/5.
The necromancer stood in a pool of his own gelling blood, rumbling a laugh so unnaturally
bass it could barely be heard.
Proklis tensed, then tried to stand. He collapsed.
The petrified creature whinnied a ghostly wail, pawing at the ground and shaking its head.
The panther fought to get up. His shoulders did not want to take the weight; the muscles in
his legs spasmed with the effort. He got himself upright, his balance returning. The cat hacked
and blood splattered to the stone floor.
“Laushcho,” the sorcerer mocked.
Proklis lifted his dull eyes to the man. The skeletal, horse-like beast towered over the panther.
It blocked his path to the sorcerer, cornering him against the wall. Panting, Proklis looked up at
it. It stamped and wove in anticipation.
The necromancer’s next word was a command: “Yuskt.”
The beast reared! Proklis threw his weight to his hind legs, and splayed his claws and maw
against the night crawler’s attack!

6 (4+2) vs. 2 and 4 Strong Hit!
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind. Secure an Advantage with forceful defense!
134
Proklis’ claws struck the petrified creature across the skull, leaving white scratches and
batting the maw away. But he could simply do nothing fighting moving rock. The creature
reared, but Proklis’ heart hurt from this strain, and he could not dodge fast enough. The beast
struck Proklis and crushed him against the ground! It raked its claws over the top of his head,
splitting one of his ears in two. The panther roared in pain. He twisted free, gasping, and hacking.
The necromancer backed away. With his pet set to torment this enraging pest, he simply put
the length of the room between them to watch.
Proklis stayed on his feet, but he watched his final chance to end this fight backing away. He
snarled. One last pounce could end this. He clenched his teeth and bolted, letting the pain wreak
havoc through him as he sprinted under the beast’s legs. His haunches and forelimbs struck
heavily to gain speed. His lungs could not help him.
He heard the ghostly whinny and the galloping clatter of bones behind him, but he didn’t
turn and he didn’t slow! The necromancer recoiled with a look of bitter rage in his lidless eyes;
Proklis coiled and pounced!
He never made it to the necromancer. The panther’s eyes widened. His body fell limp.
Blood began to pour between his pointed teeth...
Proklis felt himself slacken into his human form; his feline face returned to his own. His head
tilted back, his throat struggling to gulp...
He hung in the air, and his shaking hand lifted to the point in his chest above where the
petrified eldritch beast had punctured its horn deep through his back.
Proklis’ excruciated gaze turned downward at the necromancer. The Ironsworn gritted his
teeth, fully unable to breathe. He sputtered through intense strain.
The necromancer grabbed Proklis by the collar and brought his brown teeth near.
Proklis’ lungs pressed against the wound... My name is Proklis. No matter what you do to me,
you will not take that away.
But... “P—” and a droplet of blood was all he could manage to say.
Proklis’ hand slipped to his side, limp. The necromancer jerked him forward, ripping him
from the creature’s horn with a gush of blood.

6 (3+2+1) vs. 7 and 7 Complication
Proklis takes 1 Harm: -1 Health; 0/5. -3 Momentum; -4/10.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind. Endure Harm.

5 (2+2+1) vs. 8 and 9 Miss
Debility: Wounded.
135
Proklis slumped, hanging off the ground in the necromancer’s clutches. Blood streamed from
the wound and filled his lung. He stared into the bulging eyes of the sadistic, thaum-corrupted
man. The portion of his face that still remained lifted his jaw wide. Ruby-red thaum started to
glow bright in his throat. And pain began to pour over the Ironsworn. Proklis gripped the
sorcerer’s wrist, crackling agony within his eyes; his scream was only blood!
An arrow ablaze struck straight through the necromancer’s eye until the tip hit the back of his
skull.
Proklis fell back onto the cold stone with a splatter.
The sorcerer stumbled back as the staccato of bow strings rang in the air. Flaming arrows
gouged into his chest!
Proklis heard shouts of battle orders, but one voice came immediately closer.
“Proklis! Proklis, I’m here!” Ereshki fell to her knees with a skid to lean over him. She laid a
hand on his chest then face, staring at the streaming blood. “I’m here! You’re not alone.”
He could hear elves in battle around him, and the eldritch fossil’s banshee cry, and the flashes
of crimson thaum.
Proklis gritted his teeth and choked on his pain. Blood sputtered from his lips.
“Proklis, I need you to look at me!” Ereshki turned his face so his eyes met hers. “Don’t look
away!”
Unbelieving, he watched her pull her wooden lioness mask away.
Proklis gazed up. Ereshki’s dark green face matched her eyes. She gazed at him, blinking back
panicked tears. Her large, almond-shaped eyes had no crease between them and her thin, black
eyebrows. Her upper lip was much fuller than her lower lip, and the bridge of her nose lay flatter
than most.
Proklis lifted his hand as she set her mask on his chest. The back of his fingers came so near
her cheek.
He could not think of a better final sight.
Ereshki put her fingers beneath his and laid her cheek against them. Her face was smooth,
more like human skin than bark. She closed her eyes and kissed his knuckles.
“I’m here with you.”
A pale tan light shone on his chest, glowing bright enough that she looked away. As it
dimmed, her large eyes blinked down at him and she picked up the wood she’d laid there. It was
no longer a mask carved into a lioness... it had transformed into rough, silvery bark, curved as if
it had been pulled from the trunk of a tree. Proklis watched in disbelief as Ereshki quickly laid it
over his face.
Powerful, silvery light shone over the mask! The bark began to transform and smooth out
around the edges. It formed a perfect curve, and the wood felt cool against his skin as the interior
melded and became form-fitting to his forehead, nose, and cheeks. The wooden mask became a
perfect circle, just slightly convex. It was the shape and color of the moon...
Proklis gasped! His lungs filled with breath. His blood pumped strong. His pain washed away,
and his harrowed soul grew warm again.
Proklis heaved heavy breaths, sitting up. He looked at Ereshki through the mask, stunned.
Ereshki stood, reached out her arm, and pulled Proklis to his feet.
136
Proklis’ Health 5/5, Spirit 5/5, Momentum 2/10.
Debility Cleared: Wounded.
Debility Cleared: Shaken.
Ereshki
Momentum
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Health Spirit Supply

0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5
!Action +1 Heart. Ereshki Enters the Fray.
Proklis looked out at the group of elves fighting the eldritch and sorcerer. Valadin and
Retenay fought side-by-side.
The elven hunters focused their efforts on crushing the eldritch, now nearly demolished.
Proklis let his hands transform into panther paws.
The Oracle: Ereshki Enters the Fray result:

Ereshki takes the offensive.
!Action +2 Iron, +1 Bind, +2 Brawler, +1 Turn the Tide. Proklis: Strike!
Proklis sprinted for the necromancer, pushing himself faster, black fur spreading down his
body, the elven mask upon his face glowing and melding into his feline features with the
transformation! He leapt, fully formed, reaching out to latch onto this immortality-hungry sadist.
137
Proklis’ fangs crunched into the exposed vertebrae of his throat, knocking him back,
slamming him into the ground. He leapt off again, away from the flames rising from the arrows
still stuck in him!
The Oracle: Proklis Turn the Tide Strike result:

9 (3+2+1+2+1) vs. 3 and 1 Strong Hit
!Action +3 Iron. Ereshki: Strike!
!Action Ereshki: End the Fight!!
Gory-red thaum burst from the sorcerer’s core! His screech pierced and rumbled, and he
stood, though broken and burning. In rage, he bellowed and roared, realizing everything he’d
done was breaking apart before him. And while Proklis braced against the torrent of thaum, he
saw a maskless elf leap into the epicenter, war hammer high!
Her iron weapon cracked against his skull, splitting it down the middle of his forehead. The
necromancer slumped back against the wall. The panther stared in astonishment as she grabbed
the necromancer by the shoulder and shoved him against the rock, despite the flames, despite the
thaum! She brought her hammer back again, and buried it into the sorcerer’s skull.
The Oracle: Ereshki Strike result:

Ereshki inflicts 3 Harm; battle progress 9/10.
The Oracle: End the Fight against The Final Necromancer result:
The flaring thaum vanished.

Ereshki pulled away, gasping, stumbling back. Her hammer stayed lodged in the
necromancer’s skull while he fell, nothing more than a pile of burning meat.
Ereshki: -2 spirit; 1/5.
138
The Final Necromancer
Extreme
Inflicts -4 Health per Harm.
When taking Harm: 1 Harm fills only ½ of a box.
         X
Defeated
!Action +1 Heart. Ereshki: Endure Stress.

She tries to endure.
Proklis stood, letting his panther form fade away. The moon-grey mask that had disappeared
into his panther transformation with him returned once again as the perfect circle of the moon.
Ereshki took a step back, staring at the mutilated corpse; she looked over to Proklis, her eyes
wide. He lifted his palm, towards her.
Tears streamed down Ereshki’s face! She embraced Proklis and held him tight.
The sound of crumbling stone clattered behind them: the elves broke the unicorn beast to
pieces. Retenay and Valadin cried out Proklis’ name and rushed to his side. He turned to them.
They threw their arms around him, kneeling to be closer to his height. Retenay kept reaching
beneath their mask to wipe their tears.
“Love,” Valadin said to get his spouse’s attention. They looked up and saw him gesturing to
the mask on Proklis’ face.
Retenay laughed like a proud parent and removed their dogwood flower mask. They wiped
the tears away freely from their large round eyes. They had a sap-green complexion, thick
eyebrows, thin lips, and a round nose. They smiled and laughed in relief.
!Action +2 Heart. Forge a Bond with Elven Family.

Bond Renewed
Elven Family
139
The other three elves, hunters each of them, had set to breaking the necromancer’s jewels,
and dealing with his skull. Retenay and Valadin stood, holding one another and glancing back at
the exit, very ready to leave this place. Proklis noticed Ereshki staring at the corpse again. She was
falling into herself at the sight of her first kill. The sorcerer had been human, after all. Proklis
reached out and touched her hand. She jumped, then laughed weakly, hiding away behind a
smile.
“That’s mine.” She plucked the mask from his face. Silver light immediately shone from the
wood, and transformed into bright tan as she placed her mask back on. It was a lioness once
again.
Silent with exhaustion, but without wound or pain, Proklis walked with them through
dripping, twisted darkness.
At the entrance to the warrens Proklis stepped back out into daylight, though filtered as it
was through billowing thunder clouds. The sheets of rain soaked him through and he smiled so
gratefully to the sky and wind. His tears were warm as they ran with the cool rain.
!Action Proklis: Fulfill Your Vow…
140
The Oracle:
The Unspoken Vow

Slay the Five Necromancers: Extreme
        
Fulfilled
141
Proklis
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lago and Menna:
Father and mother.
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 Older brother.
The Moon:
Bind.
Vows Elmhollow:
Hunting camp in the
The Moon: Epic Deep Wilds.
Obey the Moon Sutahe:
Elven Family:
Retenay, Valadin,
Gemmana, and Same.
Buy her boots.
  
Fulfilled
Delve
Corrupted Bat Warren
Cavern Corrupted Extreme Risk
Objective Located
142
Proklis
Experience:    
Bind
Active: +1 Iron
(Unique to Proklis)
Brawler Slayer
improvised weapon:
• Proklis receives a +1 to Secure an • Proklis receives a +1 when he
grappling, or clawing). On a Hit an Advantage as he readies himself
he inflicts +1 Harm.
Momentum on a Hit.
• Proklis receives a +2 when he
Hit or Miss.
143
Session 8: Forge a Bond
The elves explained to him that they had not meant to leave him behind. They had assumed
that after leaving the cave he had gone to be among humans, but when no one had seen him for
over a day, they realized no one had seen him come from the caves either. They made their case
to the jury who allowed the cave to be unblocked, and went in after him and the last three
necromancers. They had followed Proklis’ ash marks on the walls, found the two necromancers
he’d slain, and eventually tracked him to that final battle. When they saw him, they first thought
they had been too late.
Late into the following night, the hour closer to dawn than it was to dusk, Proklis and Ereshki
sat on the end of one of the larger stone piers. The wind lapped the dark waters against their bare
legs dangling in. Above them black clouds moved across the sky, revealing the stars and moon
between them as they passed.
“Can you turn into any animal?” That was how Ereshki broke the peaceful silence.
Proklis laughed, somewhat embarrassed by the question, though he didn’t know why he
should be. “No. Only five.”
“Disappointing,” she joked, nudging his shoulder with hers.
He elbowed her.
“What five, then?” she asked him, interested.
“Panther,” he began.
“Of course,” she spoke between his words.
“Crane, crocodile, gazelle, and red panda,” Proklis listed.
Ereshki exclaimed, “You can turn into a red panda and you don’t spend all day every day as
one?!”
Proklis laughed.
“I need to see this! I need to see!” Ereshki demanded in glee.
“No! I’m not relinquishing my panther just to be cute for you!” He pulled away playfully
from her as she lightly shook his shoulders in emphasis.
Ereshki laid her arm around his neck and looked back over the water. “You’re always cute.”
Proklis smiled at the teasing compliment.
“What about you?” he continued on. “Why a lioness?”
“I don’t know,” she dismissed. “Probably because I do all the work around here.”
“You don’t choose the shape?” Proklis asked.
“No, it chooses you,” she explained. “It’s sort of a joke that people say ‘I don’t understand
why!’ but everyone around them does.”
Proklis couldn’t hold back his laughter. He suppressed his chuckle before he fully laughed.
“What?” she demanded, looking down at him indignantly.
He understood why.
Proklis just let his laughter die down without explaining.
“Fucker,” she teased and let it lie.
144
He gazed out over the lake, watching the iridescent beetles dance along the water. “What,” he
began hesitantly, “happened to me? When you took your mask off and laid it on me?”
She paused a bit, seeming unsure how to best explain. Finally, Ereshki reached up and took
her mask off. It didn’t glow or change shape: she wasn’t offering it to him. Proklis looked at the
subtle embellishments in the wood, and then looked up at her face.
“It’s elderwood,” she said. “There are four species. It binds to your soul... making you
stronger, or happier. But it only works for elves, or for people who have gazed long enough at an
elf’s face.”
She met his eyes for a moment, then placed her mask back over her face.
In the darkness, he could not see her eyes beneath the lioness’ eyes.
Proklis took it all in for a moment. “But the infants. They don’t wear masks.”
“They haven’t grown into their magic yet,” she explained. She chuckled, “Can you imagine
trying to keep one on those little spit-up beans? They would constantly throw it around!”
Proklis laughed at the mental image. Yes, Same would absolutely try to make him play fetch.
The night’s breeze was gentle, and Proklis savored it.
“You can have one of your own now,” she told him. “Elderwood will always bind to your soul
from here on out.”
Proklis leaned against her in that way they often did when jokingly trying to push the other
off balance. She poked his head.
“I think I’d like one of the ones that makes you happier.”
Over the next few days, in any time of silence, Proklis thought about that night. It churned
inside him in a way that made him both worry and wonder.
Finally, he could not take the uncertainty any longer, and he sat down with Retenay to ask
about elven norms. He described to them his friendship with Ereshki. He then explained that
since she had gifted him the ability to bind with elderwood, since the physical and emotional
shared experiences in the caves, their friendship had grown closer, more comfortable... more
affectionate.
Retenay listened while he explained their interactions, their teasing, their habits of touch.
“That’s not necessarily romantic,” they told him, and then simply said to ask Ereshki.
He only looked away.
It wasn’t that Proklis was any less attracted to women. He found himself drawn to genders
similar and dissimilar to himself; he just found the power dynamic harder to navigate. But truly,
that wasn’t what bothered him now. The thing was... that he was human.
145
Proklis didn’t know how to feel about being paid for his traumatizing experience fighting the
necromancers. It had, technically, been a civil service. He shook his head, deciding that some
strange things just weren’t worth questioning. He had boots to buy.
Vow to buy Gemmana boots progress 9/10.
!Action Fulfill Your Vow to Buy Gemmana Boots

The Oracle: Fulfill Your Vow result:
“Hey Gemmaaana.” Proklis walked into the house.

“I’m busy!” she replied.
“No, you’re not,” he said.
She glared up from the plaits she was failing to braid into her extremely curly hair. “Whaat?”
Proklis took what he was holding out from behind his back, then, despite his grin, flinched
heavily at the girl’s squeal of joy! She didn’t stop running to him until her arms were tight around
his torso. “Houf!” he groaned as he felt his feet rise off the ground in her hug of pure excitement!
“I love them! I love them! I love you! Thank you!!” She squeezed him side to side and he
hugged back, boots still in hand.
She then set to adjusting the bright blue laces to fit her perfectly around the ankle and calf
while Proklis braided her hair.
Fall had not yet become cooler. As did nearly all the town, Proklis spent his days helping with
the harvest. He was asked to work alongside the young elves. While he knew it was because he
stood about as tall as an elven tween, and that he was no farmer, it still felt like they were
underestimating him. He had so much more dexterity and strength and basic know-how than the
young-uns.
One day, after working long hours on the eastern terrace, he saw Ereshki flop down on one of
the stone field walls, looking off across the massive basin and up at the horizon set ablaze by
evening.
Proklis wandered over and sat next to her with a heavy sigh of grateful rest. Without turning
from the streaking sunset, she lifted a hand and scratched the top of his head.
But then she rested her elbows on her legs and both hands between her knees. Concern
flowed through Proklis’ chest. It was an incredibly withdrawn posture for an elf.
“Why did you stay!” Her voice sounded so upset and annoyed.
“What? I stay a lot of places!” Proklis defended, bewildered.
She looked off towards the bat warrens that were now cleared of death and corruption. The
hope was that the bats could flourish again someday.
“You are a really stupid Ironsworn!” she accused.
“I mean, I won’t disa—” Proklis tried to jest, but she interrupted him.
146
“You made no vow! The jury made no demand that you kill the necromancers or die trying!”
she exclaimed.
“I...” He realized she was genuinely upset with him.
“You stayed in there and hunted those sadists down by yourself!” She did not make it sound
impressive.
“I am a stupid Ironsworn,” Proklis told her. He looked at her in earnest. “I don’t do this for
the money or fame. I didn’t make any vow to the jury or city... I didn’t have to.” Ereshki put her
hands beneath her mask, pushing it to the top of her head as she pressed her face into her palms.
Proklis put his hand on her back.
“Asshole!” she said, but leaned towards him. “Making me feel like shit going off to die
because of me!”
“Ereshki!” Proklis immediately put his hand on her arm, “No! No, I didn’t stay because I...”
He swallowed, looking up and away to fight back tears. “I didn’t stay because I attacked you. I’d
made a vow... for myself to stop those sorcerers from continuing to corrupt and grow more
powerful!”
“Fuck you,” she said, more sad than angry. She seemed to finally be releasing her own trauma
from that event.
“Fuck me,” Proklis shrugged.
She hugged him tight. “You’re so stupid.”
“I’m stupid,” he jokingly agreed. The hug didn’t let up. “I’m sorry, Ereshki. I’m sorry...”
Proklis suddenly felt intense guilt welling within him. “I’m sorry!” he suddenly sobbed. “I’m
sorry! I’m so sorry! Why are you even around me?” he sobbed. “No woman should ever go near
any man who’s ever hurt her! Ever!”
Ereshki leaned over him and hid her face in his hair, holding him tight. She stroked his hair
back and behind his ear.
They stayed like that, holding one another, facing the reality of their experience. Finally, she
pulled away, lifting her mask from her brow and slipping it back to rest on her face. She looked
away for a moment with a sniff and that small breath that comes at the end of a short cry.
Ereshki sighed. “I’ve thought a lot about free will in my life.”
Proklis didn’t understand. Most men didn’t understand the kinds of questions of free will
that women were often forced to think about.
“Staying silent,” she said. “Feeling like you have no choice. Being forced to choose between
only horrific options.”
Proklis’ eyes widened. Now he understood.
“I think sometimes,” she continued, “if someone forces a person to do something horrific to
another person, are they a victim or a perpetrator? If they have had their choices taken from
them... if they are forced to harm someone else... Have they then...” Ereshki couldn’t seem to
speak any further on it.
They sat in silence. Proklis just tried to be there with her.
Without looking at him, Ereshki asked, “May I hold your hand for a moment?”
“Yes.”
147

!Action +2 Heart. Proklis: Sojourn.

4 (2+2) vs. 8 and 5 Miss
The most joyful part of each day was the evening meal. He’d become really skilled at eating
with his eyes closed but, now that he didn’t have to, he felt fully connected to the family, and that
brought him true happiness. Retenay and Valadin reminded him of their offer to officially adopt
him. They said this while Gemmana was away so that she couldn’t bombard him with begging
pressure to say yes. And he declined again. Because, when the weather began to feel crisp and the
granaries one by one reached the top, Proklis thought every day about his parents and his
brother. The coming winter would be his fifth away from them.
In his travels alone, so far, he had never stayed in one place so long as he had in Deepwater.
He spent time with the humans there now and again. But as they got to know him, he
struggled to make lasting friendships. They joked that he was both too human and way too
familiar with elves. Proklis was horrified when they began to tease him with accusations that he
wanted to marry Gemmana when she grew up. He quickly learned that relationships—at least
open ones—between humans and elves were not common. When they brayed with laughter at
the jokes that an elven man would break a human woman, when they roared in drunken hilarity
about how could a man ever be pleased by a woman he could fully crawl inside of, Proklis got up
and left, and never went back.
He never heard the jokes they then made about him.
Proklis began to feel lonely in a crowded city. The elves were affectionate, but also tended to
be more serious around him. He struggled to join in on the levity they had with one another.
Gemmana fully accepted him, loved him, and told people he was her older brother. But
they’d laugh, saying what an adorable little girl with a tone far too condescending for a young
lady who was beginning to become a young woman.
Proklis sometimes found himself wondering random thoughts, like if his parents had enough
firewood to last the winter.
He once paused to look at a map for sale for so long that the shop-keep told him to buy it or
move on.
Only Ereshki could fully make him forget all that.
He decided to spend more time with her and her friends. It was fun at first. They seemed to
like him a lot, constantly touching his hair, asking if they could play with it, and soon joking
about how Ironsworn are the sexiest men, and then talking about his chest and shoulders and the
iron charm he always wore strung around his neck. Ereshki looked uncomfortable with all this,
but didn’t say anything.
148
By late fall, he had made his decision.

Gemmana took the news surprisingly well. She said she always knew he was going to leave to
be a hero somewhere else. And he knew from her hug how much she was going to miss him.
Ereshki’s immediate response was to call him a nard and laugh that she couldn’t believe he
was leaving her!
That next day’s open-air market was unusually crowded. The clear blue sky and crisp wind
had brought many people out to enjoy autumn and to shop. Proklis didn’t have much money left
and he found himself struggling to balance it between buying decent gear and buying decent
provisions; he had to turn all his money into goods. Coin was useless once he left Deepwater, and
he would need to barter for more food along the long journey. But he felt confident in his planed
route and that he would be able to resupply at the towns along the way. It would take him two
weeks at a light pace, but he guessed he would very likely beat the snow. There would only be a
few stretches where he’d have to spend nights in the woods.
At an excess grain stall, the shop tender handed over a small sack of dried beans to Proklis.
“Two,” she said. He paid, and then looked around for where Ereshki had gone off to.
He finally spotted her by a leather worker’s stand.
She held an oval cut of leather dyed a deep forest green. It had intricately tooled designs that
crisscrossed in geometric harmony. A long wooden hairpin lay pierced between the two sides of
the oval. Proklis recognized it as a kind of hair trinket women would use to collect their hair
back.
“I can go as low as sixty-three,” the leather worker told her.
“No. I just don’t have the money right now.” Ereshki laid the hairpiece down. Proklis
overheard her say, “Do you plan to continue making ones like this?” The leather worker said she
did. “I’ll come back in spring then.” Ereshki turned away and saw Proklis. “Hey there, panda-
butt! You ready?”
“Almost,” Proklis replied. He thought about those bartering goods.
“Good, because I’m famished!” Ereshki stretched a bit to look over the crowd. “Ooh! Peanuts
and kimchi! Want some?”
“So much,” Proklis said. Once she’d left him there to go get in line for lunch, he turned to the
leather worker. “Did I hear you say you could go as low as sixty-three for this piece here?”
The night before he planned to leave, Retenay and Valadin threw a small party in his honor.
Some of the people he knew well, and he was grateful for a chance to really say goodbye. Some of
the people he barely knew, and they honestly only knew him as the panther who slayed
necromancers. And some of the people there just loved a good get-together.
149
When the night became late and the food and drink made people grow sleepy, Ereshki poked
Proklis over and over to guide him away from the party and to the other side of the street where
the balcony overlooked the city and lake.
“I got you a parting gift,” she told him.
Proklis laughed, “I got one for you!”
“What!” Ereshki laughed. “That’s not how this works!”
“It is with humans,” he told her.
He took the hairpiece out of his pocket and gave it to her.
Ereshki took it and brushed her thumb over the design. “You spy,” she said with true heartfelt
appreciation in her voice.
She unwound the vines she used to keep back her hair, and gathered it back behind her neck.
She laid the leather over and secured it there with the wooden pin. Proklis smiled up at her as she
ran her fingers over the leather and hairpin again.
“I got you something better,” she teased.
Ereshki reached into a satchel by her side and Proklis’ eyes grew astonished at what she
pulled out.
“It’s ghostwood,” she said. She held out a beautiful, smooth, oiled piece of elderwood. The
grain curved with variety in its striations. A metal chain hung from both sides. “It’s one of the
ones that makes you happier.”
She handed it to him and it immediately shined bright silver and transformed into the shape
of the full moon with a perfect replication of the moon’s dark markings and thin white streaks.
“I...” Proklis held it, his heart beating so fast he could hardly quiet it.
“The chain,” she lifted it in her fingers, “is iron. I thought it suited you.”
Proklis placed it on his face. It felt so… true to him. Ereshki helped him secure the chain.
“I’m going to miss you.” The tears behind her voice nearly brought tears to his eyes.
She hugged him quickly, then released him with a swat to the shoulder. “You gotta go get
some sleep! Rumor has it tomorrow you’re gonna stuff a bunch of junk in a bag and carry it all
day. Weirdo.”
He chuckled, looking up into her mask through his own.
“Go,” she encouraged. “I’ll be there to see you off tomorrow.”
Proklis nodded and began back to the house. But after a moment, he found himself not
walking any further. His thoughts worried... and wondered. And he realized if it meant enough to
him that he had to stop himself from walking away...
Proklis turned. “Do you want to come with me?”
!Action +2 Heart. Proklis: Forge a Bond.

Ereshki just stood there. He could not know the panic she suddenly felt: the fear, the relief,
the hesitation, the drive.
“Yes.”
150
Wearing Ghostwood reduces stress.
Masked:
Bond Forged Ghostwood
Shadow and Spirit
Ereshki: • Proklis receives a +1 to
Proklis’ closest friend, Shadow and Spirit when he
now travel companion. wears the mask unless The
Oracle gives the Ironsworn
1 luck for that action,
regardless of the vs. result.
Her next day felt quicker than few others she had ever known. Proklis promised her that if
she had to or wanted to return to Deepwater, he would not make her undertake that journey
alone. And so, Ereshki prepared to leave the only true home she’d ever known, alongside an
Ironsworn.
She had never wanted much by way of possessions to begin with, but Ereshki was somewhat
surprised at how little she felt she absolutely had to take with her and how little regret she felt
leaving the rest behind.
After an amazing dinner with her closest friends and many heartfelt goodbyes, she told them
to scavenge what they wanted from her belongings. And they told her Proklis was hot and that
she should fuck him.
Completely unamused, she simply said, “Goodbye.”
They laughed, they hugged her, and she walked away.
Only one day after he had originally planned to leave, Proklis and Ereshki stood above the
north-west entrance to Deepwater.
They looked back at the city carved from white stone and the shining spray where river
became waterfall. It was barely dawn and the morning still cast gentle shadows over it all.
“I’m so ready for a change,” Ereshki said.
Proklis smirked up at her. “And you chose to hike?”
151
152
153
Proklis
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lago and Menna:
Father and mother.
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 Older brother.
The Moon:
Bind.
Vows Elmhollow:
Hunting camp in the
The Moon: Epic Deep Wilds.
Obey the Moon Sutahe:
Elven Family:
Retenay, Valadin,
Gemmana, and Same.
Buy her boots
Ereshki:
         Closest friend.
Fulfilled
Find a travel companion
  
154
Proklis
Experience:  
Bind
Active: +1 Iron
(Unique to Proklis)
power. On a Strong Hit, Bind is empowered and ready to be activated.
On a Weak Hit, Bind is empowered but Proklis suffers -2 Stress. The
Moon does not need to be visible, only overhead.
• If Bind is Active: Proklis may choose to activate Bind any time while
it is empowered. On activation he receives +1 to either Edge, Heart,
Iron, Shadow, or Wits. Once chosen it cannot be changed until Bind is
Oracle gives the Ironsworn only 1 luck for that action, regardless of the
vs. result, the magic is taken from him; it is relinquished.
• Relinquishing: Proklis may choose to relinquish the Moon’s power at
any time, but he will be forced to Bind again at the soonest
opportunity.
Brawler Slayer Masked: Ghostwood

When unarmed or fighting with an Shadow and Spirit
improvised weapon:
• Proklis receives a +1 to Secure an • Proklis receives a +1 when he • Proklis receives a +1 to Shadow
Advantage using +Iron in close Gathers Information by tracking a and Spirit when he wears the
quarters fights (such as punching, beast or horror, and when Securing mask unless The Oracle gives
grappling, clawing, or biting). On an Advantage as he readies himself the Ironsworn 1 luck for that
a Hit he inflicts +1 Harm. for a fight against them. He gets +1 action, regardless of the vs.
• Proklis receives a +2 when he Momentum on a Hit. result.
Hit or Miss.
155
Ereshki
Momentum Bonds
-6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Deepwater:
The only home she
Health Spirit Supply has ever known.
0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5 0 1 2 3 4 5
+1 Heart: She knows she has to manage on her own.

+1 Wits: She knows about farming but that’s about it.
+2 Shadow: She can spot a lie, and she can tell a tall tale.
+2 Edge: She has precise control over her movements.
+3 Iron: She is an 8’6”, 417-pound farmer.
156
Ereshki
Masked: Storyweaver Combat Talent

Thunderwood
Edge and Health
• Ereshki receives a +1 to • Ereshki receives a +1 if she • (Untapped Potential)
Edge and Health when she uses storytelling, songs, or
wears the mask unless The similar entertainment to
Oracle gives 1 luck for that Secure an Advantage,
action, regardless of the vs. Compel, or Forge a Bond,
result. and +1 momentum on a Hit.
Thunderwood enhances People love her for her stories. She’s strong and coordinated.
her agility. She only needs to unleash it.
157
Adventure Statistics
Vows
Kendalanu: Troublesome
Protect Kinzura and return him to Elmhollow.
Well, they found harrow spiders.   
Slay the harrow spiders for their venom.      
Return Kinzura safely back to Elmhollow.         
Fulfilled
Sutahe: Dangerous
Don’t activate Bind until fully healed.
Sojourn at Elmhollow. +2 Health.    
Night crawler attack. -1 Health.  
Exhaustion. -1 Health.
A good meal. +1 Health.  

Bear. -1 Health. Wounded.
Elven aid. +3 Health.      

Make some baskets while that leg heals.
     
Debility Wounded cleared.
Rest at Deepwater. +2 Health.          
Fulfilled
I
Vows
Buy that sweet lady some boots!
Find out what’s bothering the bats. Cry.
  
Get paid.
Defeat 5 necromancers and die trying.
     
It’s a civil service. Get paid.
Buy boots! Stan Gemmana.         
Fulfilled
The Moon: Epic

Obey the Moon.
(No progress yet.)

Find a travel companion.
Ereshki will travel with Proklis to
  
Cherrybeck.
II
The Unspoken Vow: Extreme
Progress increased by two hatch marks for each waypoint.
4 hatch marks, which make a star, is a full box.
Track down the first necromancer. 
Discover the necromancers are mobile

and can possess people.
Kill the first necromancer.  
Track down the second necromancer.  
Kill the second necromancer.   
Endure the horrors of the bat warrens.   
Track down the third necromancer.    
Kill the third necromancer.    
Discover the necromancers are increasing
    
in power exponentially.
Track down the fourth necromancer.     
Discover the necromancers are now
     
powerful enough to summon undead.
Kill the fourth necromancer.      
Endure the horrors of the bat warrens.       
Resupply the acid needed to destroy the
      
necromancers’ skulls.
Successfully navigate the bat warrens:
       
delve complete.
Track the final necromancer.        
Discover the necromancer’s ultimate goal
        
of summoning the unicorn beast.
Kill the final necromancer.         
III
Fulfilled
Bonds Forged
Proklis
The elven hunting camp where he fought alongside Sutahe
and her team for many weeks. The camp is near a nest of
harrow spiders that is slowly spreading. Proklis helped
Elmhollow
them kill an elder beast called a harrow empress. Now
every hunting party that spends time there tell the story of
the Ironsworn who fought as a panther.
An elven huntress who leads hunting parties. She is a calm
and caring person. She has the bark of a sycamore, green
Sutahe
hair, and wears a mask carved of ghostwood in the shape
of a moth.
Retenay, Valadin, Gemmana, and baby Same. This family
cared for Proklis when his life hung by a thread. They
found him a joy and wonderful to have in their lives. They
offered to adopt him into their family unit, but Proklis told
Elven Family
them he couldn’t imagine his life where he didn’t wander.
This bond was severed when Proklis’ mind was overtaken
by a corrupted sorcerer and he beat Ereshki nearly to
death.
Retenay and Valadin beseeched the elven jury to send a
search party back into the bat warrens to look for Proklis
and slay the remaining necromancers. They found Proklis
Elven Family
dying at the hands of the last necromancer. His life was
(Renewed) saved, the necromancer was defeated, and they realized
they could forgive him for a tragedy that wasn’t truly his
fault.
Proklis’ best friend. Together they delved the bat warrens,
ignorant of what lie waiting. Together they faced down
corrupted sorcerers, and their friendship nearly perished.
But she came to his aid, and saved his life when she
Ereshki
allowed him to look upon her face, thus gifting him the
ability to bond with Elderwood. As a parting gift, she gave
him a ghostwood mask, but when he asked her to come
with him, they didn’t part after all.
IV
Assets Purchased
Proklis
Brawler Masked: Ghostwood
When unarmed or fighting with an Shadow and Spirit
improvised weapon:
• Proklis receives a +2 when he • Proklis receives a +1 to Shadow
Strikes with deadly intent; he and Spirit when he wears the
inflicts 2 Harm on a Hit and he mask unless The Oracle gives
takes -1 Momentum on a Weak the Ironsworn a 1 for that
Hit or Miss. action, regardless of the vs.
result.
V
Journeys
Journey: Troublesome
Journey somewhere new
A place for a good meal.   
Broken, battered, and hoping for a
     
miracle…
VI
Delves
Bat Warren: Troublesome

What’s bothering the bats?
Cavern Unknown Low to Extreme Risk

Slay the five necromancers
Cavern Corrupted Low to Extreme Risk
VII
Combat
Harrow Spiders Troublesome 10 vs. 4 and 3 Strong Hit
Harrow
Fearsome 8 vs. 1 and 8 Weak Hit
Empress
Horde of
Dangerous 10 vs. 5 and 4 Strong Hit
Harrow Spiders
3/10 Battle progress.
Scared Bear Fearsome Battle fled.
The First
Necromancer
The Second
Dangerous 10 vs. 5 and 3 Strong Hit
Necromancer
The Third
Dangerous 10 vs. 10 and 6 Weak Hit
Necromancer
The Fourth
Necromancer
Combined 4/10 Battle progress.

Dangerous
Horrors Battle fled.
The Final
Extreme 9 vs. 8 and 6 Strong Hit
Necromancer
VIII
Roll Stats:
Proklis Expected Odds:
Strong Hits 50 (29%) 27.% - 38.7%
Opportunities 3 (2%) 5.5% - 6.5%
Weak Hits 75 (43%) 34.7% - 43.7%
Misses 36 (21%) 11.7% - 18.7%

Complications 9 (5%) 3.5% - 4.5%
Ereshki Expected Odds:

1 (33%) (action) 27.7%
Strong Hits
1 (33%) (end a fight) 64%
Opportunities 0 5.5% - 6.5%
Weak Hits 1 (33%) 39.7%
Misses 0 11.7% - 18.7%
Complications 0 3.5% - 4.5%
Retenay (Deity on Earth) Expected Odds:
Strong Hits 1 (33%) 6.7%
Opportunities 1 (33%) 2.5%
Weak Hits 1 (33%) 31.7%
Misses 0 51.7%
Complications 0 7.5%
IX
Next Adventure…
Proklis addressed the woman sitting there watching the bloody match. “Are you Rhian?”
She didn’t turn to look at him. “Not unless you’re buying; the bracket’s basically done.” She didn’t
take her eyes from the fight but sat back with her arms crossed.
“I’m Menna’s son.” Proklis ignored the men beating the shit out of each other.
Rhian took her eyes from the massive fighters to give him an annoyed look, but then burst out
laughing. “Oh... Oh, poor kid.” She looked him up and down. “Your momma talked you up so much. Are
you seriously an Ironsworn?”
Average height, average weight, average build... Proklis gave her an irked tilt of the head. “I am.”
“Cute.” She turned back to the fight, but it was over; one of them gushed blood from the two-inch
split down his lip. “Well, it sucks that you’re so late. I would have enjoyed watching someone put an
Ironsworn in his place.” Proklis looked at the set of stones laid out on the table. There were still 3 matches
left. She then gave him a pitying look, “And don’t you start peacocking with that ‘I’ll fight the victor!’
bullshit. No jumping the bracket.”
Proklis said, “I’ll fight you.”
Rhian turned slowly, her eyebrows very raised. She didn’t even bother watching the next circle be
drawn. She looked at him squarely. She did want to see an Ironsworn put in his place.
Someone yelled, “Fanir! You’re next!”
“Shut up.” Rhian stood up. “I’m next.” She looked back at Proklis with a condescending smile, “But
we’re fighting with weapons.”
Proklis inwardly sighed and pulled off his shirt. The men grumbled amongst themselves but then
chuckled when they saw Proklis. They didn’t even bother putting down bets.
Rhian walked over to the circle which had been traced and retraced over and over that night. With the
toe of her boot, she drew half the circle, then a man who must have been her travel companion held out a
long sheath, and Rhian drew out a fucking feder! Proklis inwardly cursed. Rhian rolled the two-handed
sword with her dominant hand before holding it in both and looked at him, mockingly sweetly. Proklis
walked forward and traced the other half of the circle.
Rhian waited for a moment until she realized he wasn’t drawing any weapon. “What, did you leave
your garden trowel at home?”
Proklis lowered his stance and put his fists in front of his face.
Rhian’s sword drooped, “You’re kidding?” But Proklis noticed she didn’t relax her back or take her
feet from their fighting position. He recognized that guard. It was a feint.
Proklis gave her a matter of fact, tight-lipped expression. “Set the rules.”
!Action +2 Heart. Draw the Circle.

The Oracle:
Proklis enters the fight unarmed: +1 Momentum; 3/10.
Rhian practically laughed when she said, “First blood?”

Proklis nodded.
X
“Don’t be mad if you lose an arm,” she jeered.
Proklis took a few steps, following the curve of the circle. Rhian didn’t move. Now he knew it was a
feint. From straight on, that sword only had three directions it could go. But if she let him come at her
from the side, it had one: an over the head strike that could kill him... He took another step; she didn’t
move. ...And apparently, she was willing to. He looked at her stance, her height, the length of her sword.
He stepped just into her range.

The Oracle:
Rhian twisted her sword up over her head to bring the blade down towards him! Proklis rushed aside,
but she took a triangle step to keep him where she wanted and slashed diagonally from above; Proklis
jerked back, keeping out of her range. Her sword lashed back up, as she laughed, “First blood could be
splitting your skull!” She used her thumb to support the flat of her blade as it circled over her head,
forcing him to duck! But he knew if that’s what she wanted, then the next attack would come from below.
He pulled away from the low diagonal cut, keeping his stance quick and steady as he stayed just out of her
reach.
“Keep running and first blood will be the blisters on your feet!” Rhian mocked.
Swinging a longsword takes a lot more effort than not getting hit. Proklis watched her movements: the
way she changed guards, the lack of fluidity. She clearly favored keeping her sword high, near her head.

The Oracle:
7 (4+3) vs. 9 and 10 Miss
Proklis rushed in, but she reacted fast! Rhian jerked her sword back up and switched to a low cut.
Proklis leapt and dove over the sword to keep it from splitting open his stomach! He rolled and managed
to follow through until he had his feet under him. But now he had his back to a weaponsmith and her
sword.
Proklis: -2 Momentum; 0/10
In a heartbeat, he realized she had her back to him, too…. with a heavy blade. Proklis swept around,
taking a blind punch for her!

The Oracle:
Proklis’ fist connected with the back of her ribs. Rhian groaned more in irritation than pain, but he
didn’t hesitate. He hooked his elbow underneath her dominant arm, pulling up until he could reach
around to the back of her head. But she didn’t drop her sword; Rhian slammed the hilt into his upper ribs.
Proklis gritted his teeth against the pain, and quickly began punching her lower back. She would not be
XI
able to support the weight of that sword if he could bruise her enough. He needed to disarm her! The hilt
bashed against his rib again. Proklis flinched but didn’t want to lose this advantage! She jabbed again and
then again, each time the pain feeling like it was doubling! And he realized—too late—that this was no
advantage at all.
“HAAH!” Proklis felt sharp pain jolt through his rib! He released her and drew back.
Rhian circled around, laughing not out of relief, but with a sadistic tone.
Proklis inflicts 1 Harm, and takes 1 Harm. -3 Health; 2/5.
The Oracle:
Rhian kicked his stomach and Proklis doubled without a scream.

He tried to gasp around the pain. She brought her boot to his shoulder and shoved him back to the
ground. She had every opportunity to give him a quick cut of her sword, or even kill him if that was truly
what she wanted. But instead, she just picked her boot off the ground and placed it on his chest. Rhian
pushed down gently.
Proklis’ excruciated scream echoed through the town square! Everyone now knew his rib was broken.
Rhian exclaimed to the group, “First blood could be his splintered ribs through his skin!” Laughter
rumbled among the men. Rhian pressed down, and Proklis felt his mind ablaze with pain! And beyond
the sound of his cries, Proklis was nearly sure he heard Ereshki yell, “Proklis, yield!”

The Oracle:
She raised her foot to stomp down on his chest—to break his chest—and he realized she had every
intention to kill him.
Terrified, Proklis rolled and her foot slammed into the ground! He scrambled away from her, his
every breath sending shards of pain through him. Rhian tossed her sword aside and walked towards him.
Proklis gasped. “I yie—!”
Rhian’s fist swung at his eyes!
!Action +2 Heart. Face Danger.
XII
About the Author:
I’ve been a writer my entire life, but never have I written anything as quickly as this work.
When I sat down to play Ironsworn I didn’t intend to write a book; I figure that’s a pretty
common sentiment. Yes, it’s because of the game, yes it’s because of the novelty, but at
the same time I can’t deny the fact that Proklis is a peculiar character. He has a calm
heroism which is, simply, being a good person. The fact that it’s both his greatest quality
as well as his greatest flaw has made him the most uplifting character I have ever spent
time with. My depression has never been so thoroughly subdued as when his spirit is 5/5.
I myself feel self-fulfilled knowing that if I created him, that must mean that his qualities
lie somewhere within me.
XIII
XIV

Ironsworn - The Unspoken Vow

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Copyright ©2021 Margot Hutton licensed under Creative Commons

This work is based on Ironsworn

This work is created with the use of

Map by Ben Hooley

Images by Matthew Wetherbee.

Ironsworn: The Unspoken Vow

With all my heart, please enjoy.

Session 0: The Ironlands 1

Session 1: The Deep Wilds 2

Session 2: Battle of the Harrow Empress 14

Session 3: Formidable Foe 34

Session 6: The Moon’s Vow 102

Session 7: The Final Necromancer 124

Session 8: Forge a Bond 144

!Ask the Oracle: Elf Names

((What is our goal?))

!Ask the Oracle: Action + Theme

((And are we in a good position?))

!Action +3 Wits. Bind with the Moon’s power.

((Thank you, M’Lady. Shall we begin?))

!Action +2 Heart. Swear an Iron Vow.

!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer. Gather Information…

The Oracle: Gather Information result:

!Action +3 Wits. Ambushed: Enter the Fray!

Foe: A group of 3 harrow spiders.

The Oracle: Strike result:

!Action +2 Iron. Face Danger with forceful defense.

The Oracle: Face Danger result:

!Action +4 Health. Endure Harm. Just press on. Please!

The Oracle: Face Danger result:

!Action +2 Iron. Strike!

The Oracle: Strike result:

!Action End the Fight.

Foe: A group of 3 harrow spiders.

Vow progress 6/10: Harrow spiders slain.

The Oracle: Secure an Advantage result:

!Action +3 Wits. Face Danger.

The Oracle: Face Danger result:

!Ask the Oracle: Settlement Trouble

Three Harrow Spiders: Troublesome

Then the Oracle challenges it.

The result drives the story.

!Action +2 Iron. Tolerate the pain; Heal.

!Action +3 Wits, +1 Slayer. Secure an Advantage.

The Oracle: Secure an Advantage result:

Proklis’ Momentum burns away the Oracle’s challenge.

The Oracle: Enter the Fray result:

Proklis’ Momentum smolders down to 2/10.

Foe: Harrow Empress.

!Action +2 Iron. Strike in unison with the elves.

The Oracle: Strike result:

Foe: Horde of harrow spiders.

!Action +2 Iron. Clash against the empress.

The Oracle: Clash result:

!Action +3 Wits. Face Danger with insight and expertise.

The Oracle: Face Danger result:

!Action +2 Iron. Clash with the horde of spiders!

The Oracle: Clash result:

Proklis and Kinzura inflict 3 Harm to the spider horde; 6/10.

!Action +2 Iron. Strike at the empress!

The Oracle: Strike result:

The Oracle: Face Danger result:

!Action +2 Iron. Clash!