Session 10: Orian’s Dream, and signs of the Frostweaver

The morning light filtered softly through the trees surrounding the lodge, casting a warm glow over the clearing. The lodge had seen the departure of many after their meetings. The survivors from Krezko had moved on, some heading south to Waylan , others returning to Sevgorod.   Only this core group remained: the PCs, Ren Jorik, his daughter Elara, Tashi the Skald, and Yanla, who had not yet taken her leave. The crisp air and vibrant colors of autumn leaves created an almost peaceful atmosphere, if not for the underlying tension of their dire circumstances.   However, this fleeting sense of tranquility was soon shattered when Orian failed to emerge from his bedroll. Concerned, the group found him flinching and muttering in his sleep, his brow damp with cold sweat. As they investigated, they were drawn into Orian’s harrowing nightmare.   Orian’s dream was a stark contrast to the lodge's serenity. He found himself shackled in a dimly lit, cold cell, the sound of a rat’s chittering and the slow drip of water echoing in the oppressive silence. Before him, in the shadows, stood Inquisitor Ilarik, his eyes boring into Orian’s mind.   And he just stood there and stared for many long minutes before finally speaking.   "Time is on my side, little sparrow," Ilarik taunted. "Little sparrow with tiny bones I might crunch. But no, no. I'd rather find out what my little bird has to share with me."   Orian struggled against the invasive force of Ilarik's presence, feeling his memories pried open.   In the psychic battle that ensued, Orian managed to keep their location a secret, but Ilarik gleaned the name “Sevgorod” from his mind. The experience was agonizing, each revelation draining Orian's willpower.   When Orian finally awoke from the trance, he was visibly shaken. The lingering presence in his mind was unsettling. But despite the ordeal, he felt a strange awakening within him, a potential as of yet untapped. (For now, he was left with the Broken Condition).   Seeing Orian’s weakened state, Ren suggested delaying their departure. "Since Orian needs time to recover from this sudden ordeal, I suggest we not set out just yet," Ren proposed. "We’re not under immediate pursuit, and I was expecting a visit from Dagrun, one of my suppliers, for what was to be the Walen festival. He’s a forest hermit and explorer, and he might not have heard about what happened in Krezko."   Ren explained that Dagrun, an escaped miner from Sevgorod turned recluse, often brought valuable supplies. "He’s got good stuff," Ren said. "Dagrun’s Finest—moonshine with herbs, smoked meat, and sometimes, boom powder. Could be useful."   The group agreed to Ren’s suggestion, deciding to stay and prepare for the journey ahead. They gathered the available supplies at the lodge, including preserved provisions, basic tools, and a couple of tents. Yanla provided guidance for their impending travels, warning them of the dangers they would face as they moved north.   "As you move north," she said, "the forest will grow denser and more ancient. Aberrations roam freely here, and you are just as much a meal to them as they are to you."   Yanla also described the challenges of traveling further north into the inhospitable terrain of her homeland, filled with twisting, frozen bogs. She promised to stay near until their paths diverged, with the group heading towards Rostova and her continuing to the House of Bones.   The PCs carefully reviewed their supplies and planned for the journey, aware that they would need robust shelter and winter clothing as they ventured into the deep wilderness.   While preparations were underway, Tonibore decided to explore the forest and follow the signs of the Aberration he had been tracking (Session 9).   Venturing deeper into the dense woods, he came upon the nearly invisible strands of a Frostweaver Spider's web. His keen senses allowed him to spot the webbing before becoming ensnared, but mapping out the extent of its territory proved more challenging.   In the process of trying to determine the spider’s hunting range, Tonibore got caught on one of the web’s viscous strands. The sticky filament clung to his skin, and despite his efforts to free himself, he was forced to carve his way out with a knife, leaving a bloody chunk of skin behind.   Upon his return, this encounter, combined with Rolandus' still healing wounds from their first session's brutal fight, led the group to decide on several more days of rest to recover fully.   A few days later, the tranquil silence of the lodge was broken by the sound of knuckles rapping on wood. Outside stood Dagrun, a rugged, bearded man in buckskins, accompanied by two enormous goats laden with packs. He looked every bit the reclusive hermit Ren had described.   “Hail, Ren,” Dagrun greeted. “I saw smoke in the direction of Krezko. I thought the festival must have started early, but then I saw the carrion birds. I can see it darkening all of your faces... no need to tell me.”   Dagrun continued, “I’ve still got the festival supplies if you need them—smoked meat, herbs, and a fresh batch of Dagrun’s Finest. And a few flasks of boom powder for those who might need a bit more… fire for those that brought it to you.”   The PCs engaged in bartering with Dagrun. Beyond the basic goods Ren had already paid for, they managed to secure some additional herbal supplies. Zenscha, demonstrating her remarkable crafting skills, turned Dagrun’s poorly cured furs into excellent winter clothing for the group, ensuring they were better prepared for the harsh conditions they would face.   With Dagrun’s supplies secured and the group well-rested, they gathered for their final preparations. The prospect of hunting the Frostweaver Spider, especially for its anesthetic and paralytic properties, was particularly enticing to Rolandus, both for medicinal and combat purposes.   Yanla prepared to take her leave, offering a few final words. “This is where our paths part for now,” she said. “I will continue to watch over you when I can from a distance until our paths truly diverge. Stay vigilant and trust in your strength to carry you to your final resting place.”