Boldhome Heroes

Julian following his visit to the Temple of Orlanth to give thanks for his deliverance to the god and his intimate meeting with his lover, walks as if on clouds to his tavern of choice. He waits a moment holding the heavy door ring-handle and listens to the happy hubbub inside. He cannot really believe his deliverance - achieved not by his bravery or feat of arms but by the prayers and financial help of so many Boldhome Heroes. He feel a tear welling in his eye. It is not the wind and he roughly cuffs it away. He remembers He is home. In Boldhome, and enters the building.

He thanks old Jorl, the landlord, and orders a round for his friends. This raises a hearty cheer that, like the roaring fire warms the cockles of Julians heart!

“Thank you, good friends,” he says, “Yes, the news is true - I, Julian am back! Take your drinks in hand and I will tell you how I got away thanks to our greatest heroes…… (to be continued).

My benefactors include the incomparable Quatlu, Erik, Ivareena, Afur, Rufus and Harmeleenrios,

Julian, his whistle whetted undertakes to tell of his trial! He shudders and his eyes grow misty as he begins the cathartic and hopefully healing story of his recovery. Forgive the strange telling but Julian is not yet whole again, nor his tears at various points. His heart is strong and his mind fixed on returning the support of his ‘people’…

Listeners this is what happened as I recall the voices in my mind..

“ You are Mastakos, swift rider of the winds, the pathfinder who carries Orlanth and his companions across impossible distances. Or at least, you should be. You remember leaping into the myth, taking on Mastakos' role in the Arming of Orlanth. The chariot was there, gleaming with divine light, and you harnessed the winds to guide it. But now the winds are wrong. The path ahead is lost.

The Heroplane around you twists and churns like a storm you cannot outpace. The chariot bucks under your control, its reins slipping from your hands as roaring Chaos surges at your heels. This isn’t how the myth goes—something has gone awry. A sharp jolt throws you from the chariot, and you tumble into the void. Darkness closes in, suffused with faint whispers and mocking laughter. You are alone, unmoored from the myth, from the mortal world, from everything.

Ahead, you see it: a blazing fire, a sacred chariot illuminated by its flames. Around it, figures stand, their voices rising in unison as they chant your name. You recognize them—they are your kin, your comrades, your community. They reach toward you, their hands extending through the barrier between realms. Among them, you see Quatlu, the assistant priest who took up the role of the Seeker, and Harmeleenrios, her face full of anguish and determination. They call to you, their voices weaving a thread that pulls you closer.

The final steps are the hardest. The void seems to scream, tearing at your very soul. The shapes in the darkness howl and surge, desperate to drag you back. But then you feel it—the warmth of those hands, the power of Mastakos’ winds surging around you. The chariot shines brighter, and with one last, desperate leap, you grasp the outstretched hand of the Seeker.

The world explodes in light and sound. You are pulled free of the Heroplane, tumbling into the mortal world. The chants fade, replaced by cheers and weeping. You collapse to your knees, gasping, the weight of your ordeal bearing down on you. Everything feels distant—your limbs heavy, your thoughts scattered. But you are here. You are home.

The grounding ceremonies begin immediately. Warm hands guide you to a place of safety, where blessed relics touch your skin and sacred songs fill your ears. Food and drink are brought to you, their simple presence anchoring you to the earth. You feel the world slowly settling into place around you.

Later, as the great sacrifice is offered, you sit quietly among your kin. They tell you of their efforts, of how they re-enacted the myth to reach you, and how Mastakos’ power opened the way. You nod, but the Heroplane’s shadows still linger in your mind. You are not yet whole, but you are alive. For now, that is enough.”

And i was back in Boldhome.

Praises to all who helped recover me - I will never forget this.