1633 - 1 (Sacred Time) - Turn Report

[Puckohue]

Duels
With everyone in Boldhome in time for Sacred Time there was finally opportunity to settle a few grudges. The King’s Champion, Dargva, was to duel Baron Harold, and Erinestra was to duel Selena over Arng.

Baron Harold vs King’s Champion Dargva
All of Boldhome gathered in the Queen’s hall that autumn night, when the braziers burned bright and the stone pillars carried the echoes of sword and shield. At the Queen’s command, the Champion of the throne, Lady Dargva, stepped forward, her broadsword gleaming in the firelight. Against her stood Baron Harold of the Colymar, the cavalry’s warlord, summoned to account for his absence at the Autumn Feast.

The first exchange came swift. Harold’s blade crashed through her guard, bronze striking bronze with such force that Dargva staggered. Murmurs rippled through the gathered court as she found herself off balance. The Baron pressed hard, and his second strike cut home, a blow so sure that even the Champion’s poise faltered.

But Dargva was no weakling to crumble before two strokes. She answered with sudden ferocity, her blade slicing into Harold’s side. The crack of bronze and the hiss of his pain drew sharp breaths from those watching. The duel balanced on a knife’s edge.

Yet fortune shifted again. Dargva’s eagerness betrayed her—she lunged too swiftly, too recklessly. Harold turned her blows aside, each time twisting her out of stance, forcing her into positions where her strength could not serve her. Twice in succession she found herself checked, her own momentum undone, and whispers ran through the crowd: the Champion was faltering.

Then came Harold’s storm-born strike. His sword rose high and fell like thunder, smashing through her guard. The sound of it echoed across the chamber, and Dargva reeled, her strength visibly draining. Still she fought on, circling, her defiance plain for all to see. Their blades met in furious rhythm, sparks flying, neither giving ground. For a moment they were equals, locked in deadly measure.

But the end could not be delayed. Again Dargva pressed too far. Again Harold’s steadiness broke her defense. His final stroke fell like the wrath of Orlanth himself, and the King’s Champion dropped to one knee. Her sword sagged. Her hand lifted, not in attack, but in surrender.

The hall fell silent, the weight of the moment pressing upon all who witnessed it. Baron Harold, bloodied but unbowed, had bested the King’s own Champion. Dargva had yielded, and the matter was settled.

[Puckohue]

Erinestra vs Selena
All knew the cause. Selena, an initiate of Issaries, had entangled herself with Arng, beloved of Erinestra. Pride would not let the matter rest. Erinestra, Rune Lord of Issaries, Warlord of the Free Philosophers, and Initiate of Lhankor Mhy (her false beard a symbol of her binding oath) stepped forward to demand satisfaction.

The two women faced one another, each with a broadsword of bronze, the air between them hot with shame, fury, and the weight of honor.
The first strokes came harsh and fast. Erinestra’s sword-work bore the mark of a regimented life: precise, disciplined, each cut measured like the lines of a philosopher’s tablet. Selena, less trained but swift, answered with wild energy. The clash of their blades rang through the hall, scattering sparks across the stone floor.

For a time, neither gave ground. Erinestra pressed with the strength of command, her blows heavy with authority. Selena turned them aside, sometimes with skill, sometimes with the sheer luck of desperate instinct. Blood was drawn on both sides, each gasp from the crowd feeding the storm between them.

Then came the moment. Selena slipped inside her opponent’s guard and struck, her blade cutting deep. Erinestra staggered, bronze beard darkened with her own blood. Yet even as she fell, she lifted her voice, not to cry for mercy, but to call upon the gods.

“Lhankor Mhy! Issaries! Witness me!”

The hall grew still, the air heavy with the weight of prayer. The Rune Lord’s plea was heard. From the unseen world came the answering presence of Issaries, God of Exchange, the great Trader between realms. The killing stroke, meant to end Erinestra’s life in that instant, faltered. The blow did not land.

But the bargain was terrible. In that divine intervention, Issaries exacted a cost: every shred of Erinestra’s Power, every last ember of her soul’s strength, was taken in exchange. She crumpled where she stood, lifeless, her body fallen but her spirit carried away.

A silence deeper than mourning spread through the hall. Erinestra lay dead, not by Selena’s blade, but by the very god she had served. Her death was not defeat, yet neither was it victory. It was the ending of a life through the weight of divine commerce.

Selena stood, her sword lowered, face pale. The onlookers whispered: Issaries himself had claimed Erinestra in her final moment, not for betrayal, not for dishonor, but as part of a bargain too vast for mortals to grasp.

And so ended the duel, one by sword, the other by god.

[Puckohue]

Titles and Ranks
King Argrath decided to bestow Julian with the title of Baron. He, Garoor, Grumbold and Torben are invited to receive their new titles at the Royal Spring Feast in week 4 of 1633 - 2 (Early Sea Season).

Grumbold bought the rank of Warlord of the Royal Foot Guards.

Cult Ranks
Baroness Ivarenna used her influence as Aide to the City Administrator to convince fellow Balmyr members Derdtar, Assistant Priest of Ernalda, and Heortildes, Rune Lord of Ernalda, to resign.

Baroness Ivarenna was promoted to Assistant Priestess of Ernalda. Torben used his influence as Aide to City Ring Member Drighten Erik to convince Rune Lord Kaltar of the Balmyr to promote him to God-talker of Lhankor Mhy. Kaltar is further swayed by the Harmony Rune invoked by Baroness Ivarenna, and grants Torben his promotion.

Drighten Erik used his influence to make High Priestess Teganeth promote him to Chief Priest of Orlanth. His now vacant position as assistant priest was quickly filled by Baroness Ivarenna.

Money Matters
Erinestra’s death meant her warehouse closed, leaving several citizens without a designated shop.

Bvt Warchiefs Barons Afur and Torben engaged in conspicuous consumption. Afur also became a regular at The Storm Cloud.

Baron Torben repaid a debt to the moneylenders.

Heroquests
Two groups formed and, after preparatory ceremonies in the temples, left Boldhome to enter the God Time.

The first, consisting of Assistant Priest Erik, Rune Lord/Assistant Rune Lord Ivarenna, God-talker Harold, and Initiates Ararg and Selena, had decided to perform the Hill of Gold quest.

The second, consisting of Assistant Priest/Lay Member Garoor and Rune Lord Rufus, prepared for the Orlanth and Aroka quest.

[Puckohue]

Week 1
Assistant Priest Quatlu and Rune Lord Julian devoted themselves to cult studies at the temple of Orlanth.

At the temple of Orlanth, Brystan, Grumbold with Oneldna, Baron Afur with Sod, and Baron Torben participated in a ceremony led by High Priestess Teganeth. Grumbold showed conspicuous piety.

Baron Torben was provoked by the status of Grumbold, and challenged him to a duel. It was a quick affair, with Torben almost immediately landing a definite hit after which Grumbold surrendered.

Week 2
Baron Torben spent the week participating in the Sacred Time ceremonies at the Temple of Uleria.

Quatlu and Julian continued their cult studies at the temple of Orlanth.

Baron Afur with Sod participated in a ceremony led by High Priestess Teganeth of Ernalda, showing conspicuous piety. Brystan participated in a ceremony at the temple of Storm Bull, toadying to the Rune Lord. Grumbold brought Oneldna to the temple of Issaries where they participated in a ceremony led by High Priestess Mormelynn.

Week 3
Assistant Priest Qualtu brought Darra to the temple of Orlanth where he led a Sacred Time ceremony showing conspicuous piety. Rune Lord Julian with Harmeleenrios were among the participants.

Baron Torben participated in a ceremony at the temple of Lhankor Mhy showing conspicuous piety.

Rune Lord Baron Afur studied the Harmony Rune at the temple of Ernalda, while Brystan and Grumbold devoted themselves to cult studies at their respective temples.

Week 4
Brystan and Grumbold continued their cult studies at their temples while God-talker Baron Torben studied Homeland Lore at the temple of Lhankor Mhy.

Afur brought Sod to the temple of Issaries where they participated in a ceremony led by Chief Priestess Erinynn.

Quatlu and Julian practiced their weapons at the temple of Orlanth.

[Puckohue]

The Hill of Gold
Hear now, you children of storm and stone—
of the winter winds that beat against the mountain gates,
of thunder that sang in Boldhome’s halls,
when the Hill of Gold burned again in Sacred Time.

The Call of the Storm
When the new year’s snows were yet unmelting,
and the clouds hung low with the breath of gods,
the Chief Priest Erik, storm-marked and fearless,
raised his hand before the altar of Orlanth Rex.

He called for companions to walk the God Path,
to tread where the King of Storms once strode.
And four answered his call:

Ivarenna, the Voice of the Wind,
whose prayers could calm the sky itself;

Harold, young god-talker, bright-eyed and bold,
whose words carried the ring of bronze;

Ararg, of noble blood and restless pride,
bearing the sword of his ancestors;

and Selena, daughter of trade and wisdom,
whose tongue could weave peace between lightning and flame.

These five stood before the Storm Rune,
their breath joining the wind’s own song,
and the gates of myth opened wide before them.

The Bright God Broken
Down they strode into the godtime,
where every step is echo and omen.
There upon the snowy plain waited Yelmalio,
the Bright God of the High Sun,
his armor a glare of gold,
his eyes unblinking and proud.

Erik spoke no words—
for between storm and sun there is no need for speech.
Lightning leapt from his hand,
and thunder roared in answer.

The Bright God’s spear shattered,
his shield splintered like dawn’s own glass.
He fell bleeding into the snow,
and Orlanth took the Golden Armor,
the Lightning Spear, and the right to stride as king.

The bards say that the wind itself knelt that day,
and the hill began to sing.

The Winter Palace
Then the questers climbed higher,
to the Palace of Inora, the Ice Maiden,
who rules from a hall of frozen breath.

Erik—now Orlanth entire—
entered roaring, his voice shaking frost from the rafters.
He showed her the Lightning Spear,
gift and boast in one.

Inora smiled, and her smile was winter itself.
She kissed him once, and refused him thrice,
saying, “Your breath is too fierce for my peace.”

Then the storm broke within him.
His rage split the ice,
and the wind carried the echo of his fury
through the mountains for seven days.

Yet even in wrath, Ivarenna held the prayer,
keeping the tale from shattering.
And though Ararg stumbled in his part,
his shadow lost in the gale,
the others held the storm true.

The Dark God and the Storm
High upon the Hill of Gold,
the Dark God came—Zorak Zoran,
scarred, burned, eater of flame.

He bellowed the Hell Roar,
and the sky itself trembled.
But Erik caught that roar in his hand
and spun it ‘round until it sang of submission.
Lightning answered fire;
storm broke shadow;
and the Dark God was hurled from the tale,
his rage swallowed by thunder.

Harold’s young voice carried the rites of victory,
while Selena bound the moment in holy exchange,
sealing wind and fire in accord.

The Summit and the Dawn
At last they reached the summit,
where Chaos had crept unseen,
gnawing the gold and drinking the snow.

There Erik, storm-hearted,
raised the Lightning Spear high
and smote the filth until the sky cleared.

Selena called the laws of harmony,
and the winds obeyed.
The hill shone bright once more,
pure as the morning after storm.

And Orlanth looked upon the wounded world
and swore again to make it whole.

The Return
When the questers awoke in Boldhome’s temple,
the air still crackled with stormlight.
The people knelt; the priests wept.
They had walked the god’s path and returned alive.

Erik, the Chief Priest, stood crowned in wind,
his courage now part of the storm’s own memory.
Selena bore treasures of gold and wonder,
enough to fill two king’s coffers.
Ivarenna’s prayers shone brighter than before.
Harold spoke new words of Orlanth’s glory.
And Ararg, though fallen,
was marked by the wind’s hard mercy—
for even the storm remembers those who stumble beneath it.

The Song of the Hill of Gold
So the bards sing:
of thunder upon snow,
of pride broken and strength renewed,
of love denied and storm triumphant.

They sing of Erik Stormvoice,
who smote the Bright God and the Dark,
and brought the Hill of Gold blazing into Sacred Time once more.

They sing of Selena Goldtongue,
whose bargains bound the winds themselves.

They sing of Ivarenna Wind-Sister,
who steadied the storm’s hand.

They sing of Harold the Clear,
whose words carried the breath of dawn.

And they whisper still of Ararg,
who walked into the gale and returned—
humbled, but unbroken.

For so long as the storm blows over Sartar,
and the snows fall upon Kero Fin’s crown,
the Hill of Gold will gleam in the hearts of Orlanth’s children—
and the tale of that Sacred Time
will be sung wherever thunder answers prayer.

[Puckohue]

Orlanth and Aroka
Hear now, children of storm and sky,
of the season when thunder spoke in two voices,
and the dragon beneath the world woke screaming.
Hear the Song of Orlanth and Aroka,
as the bards of Boldhome sing it still.

The Calling of the Storm
It was Sacred Time, when every breath of wind
is also a prayer.
The temples of Orlanth thundered with drums,
and before the great altar stood Baron Rufus,
Rune Lord of the Storm,
his hand raised to the sky,
his heart already half in the God World.

Beside him stood Garoor,
a man of the Bull, sworn to the Storm’s brother—
his eyes fierce, his blood hot with hatred of Chaos.
Though of another path, he stood shoulder to shoulder with Rufus,
for both served the storm,
and both longed to make the winds sing again.

“Let us walk the path of our god,” said Rufus,
“and face the Blue Dragon, that the rain may return.”

And the winds answered yes.

The Journey Into the Myth
They stepped from Boldhome’s stone halls
into the swirling heart of the Hero Plane,
where the sky rolls and folds like surf,
and each gust bears an echo of creation.

You feel the six winds gather—
one for courage, one for cunning,
one for wrath, one for mercy,
one for laughter, and one for the quiet between thunderclaps.

Rufus eats Splendourbread and drinks Soma,
his veins filling with light.
He prays to Kolat, Windfather,
and the spirits of air coil around his shoulders like kin.

Garoor bellows a Storm Bull’s prayer—
his words crack the clouds—
but the wind seems to twist from him,
unwilling or unready.
Still, he walks beside the Rune Lord,
his axe humming like a trapped tempest.

The Lair of the Blue Dragon
At last they come to the lair of Aroka,
whose scales are rivers, whose breath is death,
whose eyes are frozen suns.

The dragon sleeps in its pit of azure mist,
its breathing the rhythm of drought.
Its dreams keep the rains from the world.

Rufus stands before it and calls:
“Wake, serpent of silence!
Orlanth has come for your hoarded water!”

But Aroka hides,
folded within itself,
its voice a whisper that could kill.

So Rufus opens the bag of storms,
and from it releases the Darkwind,
the howl of the lost, the moan of the murdered.
It rolls into the pit, carrying despair and shadow.
The Dragon shudders,
then rises, vast and shining,
its wings blotting out the sky.

The Battle of Sky and Storm
The Blue Dragon opens its eyes—
lightning turns to stone beneath that gaze.
Rufus releases the Four Winds,
and each flings a weapon:
a stone, a spear, a cry, a sigh.
They strike the eyes of Aroka,
and the monster roars blind.

Its tongues lash out—
great rivers of muscle and venom,
but Rufus calls the Upper Wind,
and it burns the tongues to ash.

Then the Dragon breathes its Destroying Breath,
a storm that kills spirit as well as flesh.
But Rufus, son of thunder,
is ready.
He traps the breath in his Bag of Winds,
twists it closed,
and casts it away,
where it bursts into rain over the parched land.

Now the air trembles.
The storm has won its place in the world again.

Rufus leaps,
his sword a bolt of flint,
his shield shining like dawn.
He strikes the dragon’s heart.
He tears the beast apart.

Water gushes forth,
and from its belly rises Heler,
the Rain God, weeping and laughing.

The Gifts of the Dragon
Rufus kneels in the flood of victory.
From the dragon’s heart he takes burning jewels—
each one a frozen thunderclap.
From its sinews he takes cords stronger than iron,
and from its tooth a blade that can scar adamant.

Garoor stands beside him,
drenched in blood and rain,
his face marked by awe and shame both.
He had faltered—
his part in the tale misstruck—
but the storm had mercy,
and the Bull still watches.

The world breathes again.
The clouds burst open.
Rain falls on the hills of Sartar.

The Return to Boldhome
When the questers return,
the people of Boldhome see the rain before they see the men.
The smell of thunder precedes them;
their steps leave ripples in the air.

Rufus strides into the temple of Orlanth,
his sword humming,
his eyes bright as lightning.
Behind him, Garoor walks proud,
scarred but smiling.

Priests and god-talkers kneel.
The king himself rises to greet them.

They bring with them the jewels of Aroka,
treasure worth more than gold—
and the memory of victory carved into the bones of the world.

So sing the bards:

Of Rufus Stormhand, who struck down the Blue Dragon,
who freed Heler and broke the drought;
who brought back jewels of thunder and the laughter of rain.

Of Garoor the Bull,
who faltered but lived,
and whose roar still echoes in the wind’s low growl.

And of the storm itself,
which forever dances between mercy and might,
between drought and flood,
between death and thunder’s rebirth.

And they say that when the first rains of Sea Season fall,
you can still hear the echo of that Sacred Time—
the sound of a dragon screaming,
and Orlanth laughing as the sky breaks open once more.