Season 2 - The Tear

Steelhawk International – S02E25 : The Shape of Flesh to Come (Upper Tear Underground)

Chief Batu’s Personal Recount

Location:The Khazari Tunnel Network (beneath the Tear)
Tone: Dread: • Urgency • Unknown Consequences
Time Elapsed:Roughly 10–12 hours underground
We pressed forward from the mining chamber with Stonefist limping beside us. His foot was still raw from where the shackle had torn away. But none of us were whole when we left that place. The things we saw down there are still crawling behind my eyes. The air changed the moment we passed deeper into the Tear. The green crystals grew denser, more active. They pulsed like they had a pulse of their own — as if we were moving through the veins of some sleeping thing. I caught Cindella staring at them more than once, her fingers twitching. I knew the look. Recognition without understanding. The tunnels were long. We marched for hours without sunlight, our pace set to the drip of condensation and the occasional tremor underfoot. Eventually, the tunnels widened into a chamber that reeked of suffering: a Khazari mining site. We found goliaths — my kin — forced into labor beneath the fists of elemental overseers. Some had already collapsed. Their eyes were hollow. Their backs marked with more than just scars. We did what we had to. The elementals fell beneath steel, spell, and vengeance. When it was over, we freed the survivors, and I swore we’d burn this entire hole in the earth before we let the Khazari take another. We carried Stonefist between us and pushed on. That’s when we found the vats. They stood like grave markers — tall green crystal tubes, smooth and clear as polished glass. Inside each one, something floated. A humanoid shape. Not sleeping. Not dead. Changing. I saw one twitch. I saw the veins pulse in time with the crystals around us. No one needed to say it aloud — they were alive. And they were being transformed. A waterfall of the same green liquid poured nearby — not water, but something thicker. We followed the source. It smelled like old stone and burning metal. I watched Cindella take samples. She looked shaken, but sharp. She always is. Stonefist led us onward, deeper than he’d ever been. He thought he remembered the route to the Control Chamber. When we arrived, we knew we were in the right place. And so did the Khazari. They were already there — warriors stationed like sentries, and Signal Carvers working an elevated console platform. I don’t remember who moved first. All I remember is the sound — the way the crystals hummed as spells ignited across the chamber. We fought hard. Cindella vanished mid-battle — banished or displaced. She winked out like she’d been plucked by the gods, and for a second I thought we’d lost her. But she returned in time — bloody, bruised, and defiant. When it was over, the console still glowed. I approached with the others. It didn’t respond to voice or command, just the strange touch-pattern of the glyphs carved into its face. We didn’t know what we were doing, but we did it anyway. We pushed glyphs. The light brightened. The vats behind us surged with resonance. The room vibrated. A signal went out — we felt it. Not in the air, but in the bones. Then it stopped. We waited. Nothing came. So we moved on. Backtracking through the tunnels, we explored the other fork and found what I can only describe as an altar to resonance. A massive stone device with two green crystal spheres on either end, both glowing. In the center, a circular interface — like a compass or plotting ring — surrounded by pressable stone tabs. We pressed them. All of them. The moment the last one clicked, the machine began to descend. The floor trembled. And then a blast of green energy surged outward, lighting the walls with veins of power. It was raw. It was wrong. And it was too late to stop. We ran. There was one tunnel left — a narrow path filled with crystalline growth and vibrating pressure. I remember the sound it made. Like singing from somewhere behind the walls. A warning, or a welcome. We didn’t wait to find out. We made it through without another fight. I don’t know how. When we emerged, the sky was red-gold and falling fast into dusk. Camp Karakorum sat beneath us, not yet burning. The air was colder than I remembered. We hadn’t told anyone what we saw. We hadn’t shared what we touched. We hadn’t prepared for what’s next. But the enemy knows now. And what we woke down there — it knows us, too. The shape of flesh to come is no longer a threat. It is a promise. And it is waiting.

Steelhawk International – S02E25 : The Shape of Flesh to Come (Upper Tear Underground)

Watcher:Yordad
1. Druid | Zapp Arhen | @{P1} ADM | Riley
2. L10 Cleric | Cindella | BobRob
3. L10 Druid | Cassian | @P2 DM | iFAIL
4. L10 Warocerer | Yordad Eshome | AirDm | Bee
5. L8 Fighter | Caelrin Seavale | @‹§-P3-§› JoBro
6. L8 Bard | Lavendara Minty | @「«P2»」¡sᴉɹɥƆ
7. L11 Druid | Chorkva | @P:null Greatcloak
Yordad eshome
Rank: 2nd Tier adventuerer
Director, I'm having my familar send you this personally to save some time make sure to give nephew treats upon arrival. Last time, we entered the cave and gathered to discuss our next steps. With no other way forward, we decided to journey deeper inside. The cave walls were lined with volatile crystals—unstable, glowing things that pulsed faintly as we passed. After some investigation, we realized these crystals were connected to a few events from our past, something we believe is more of a coinceidence. We trekked for hours through the winding tunnels before stumbling upon a massive mining operation. To our shock, the miners were enslaved—forced into labor by what looked like the same rock elementals that had attacked the village. We knew we couldn’t let that stand, so we fought. Once the area was cleared, we pressed on. Eventually, we entered a chamber filled with massive test tubes. Each one held a giant of sorts, suspended in a glowing green liquid. They were changing—slowly, grotesquely. I believe they are being grown here. There was also a waterfall of the same green liquid nearby, and it appeared to be synthesized from the same crystals we’d seen earlier. Cindella takes some samples for later. That’s when the mayor told us we weren’t far from the control room. This was the deepest he’d ever been into the cave. We agreed we had to find that room—and hopefully do something about the tubes and whatever foul experiment was underway. The deeper we went, the more tubes we found. The subjects inside were still alive, and we could see the stages of their transformation getting more advanced the closer we got to the control room. It was horrifying to witness. Eventually, we entered a massive room filled with crystals. Something about it felt… unnatural, like something huge had ripped it open. At the end of the room, the ceiling split, forming two possible paths—one led toward a group of people, the othe r appeared empty. We chose the populated path and walked into a large fight. Chaos erupted. In the middle of the battle, Cindella was banished—taken out of the fight entirely. We managed to survive, but we were shaken. Luckily after some time has passed cindella returned seemingly unharmed. After regrouping, we decided to backtrack and try the other path. It led us to what seemed like a puzzle. It felt important, but at the time we couldn’t make much sense of it. So once again, we doubled back and chose a different route entirely. That final path turned out to be the true way out. We emerged from the cave—finally—back on the surface, and with a bit of time to spare.

Steelhawk International – Episode 24: “The Last Ride to Karakorum” (Upper Tear)

Watcher:Caasian
1. Zapp Arhen
2. MC Hammerstorm
3. ShadowGambit
4. Frakas Kegstone
5. Cassian
6. Yordad Eshome
Location: The Tear OPERATIVE REPORT: I’m writing this by the flicker of bioluminescent gems and the slow breath of exhausted horses, so excuse the mess. This one's for the record. We barely made it into the cave system with our hides intact. The Sky Rot Dragons were circling hard—wingbeats like thunder and their screeches tearing through the storm behind us. By sheer luck (or tight cave geometry), they couldn’t follow us in. Felt like a temporary reprieve, not salvation. We gathered ourselves in the entrance cavern. Soaked. Bleeding. Nerves wired tight. There was debate—press onward into the caves or double back into the storm and ride hard for Karakorum. Neither option was good. Both were urgent. But we made the call to delve deeper. Might find a shortcut, might find shelter, or better yet answers. Something useful. Someone mentioned mapping. I offered a simpler solution: mark the walls. Save our heads from getting turned around. With Frakas taking point in full plate and me holding the rear (herding the horses), we advanced slowly, deeper into the dark. That’s when we started noticing them. Fluxgems. Same vibrant green crystals the Goliaths had been mining months ago back when the Behemoth Brotherhood was still whole. They were everywhere. Embedded in the walls, flickering faintly, pulsing in sync with...something. The deeper we went, the more they seemed to hum. With Shadow’s help and a little time using my jeweler’s tools, we confirmed the ID. Fluxgems – naturally faceted or shaped into smooth hexes. Cool to the touch, but subtly vibrating. Magical, unstable, and possibly reactive to arcane influence. Yeah. Great stuff to find in a cavern where you're trying to not explode. After collecting a few samples, we pressed forward. We hit a fork. I scouted left using my owl. Tight passage. Might’ve worked for us, but the horses? No shot. So we took the right path. (Right choice. Haha. “Right.” I know. I hate me too.) Some of the group decided stealth was a good idea—can’t argue with that. Shadow dropped Invisibility on himself, MC, and Zapp. Yordad vanished into some kind of containment ring Zapp carried. Frakas and I led the horses, doing our best to keep the clinking to a minimum. Easier said than done. We reached a sharp drop—a large cavern, steep ledges. The gems down here were brighter, almost strobing in places. Pretty, but unsettling. Fortunately, Zapp can cast Feather Fall at-will, so the frontliners made the leap down. Problem: We had horses. Heavy ones. Solution: Giant Bat mode. I shifted, lashed ropes to the horses, and with Frakas lifting from below, I flew the beasts up one at a time to regroup with the others. A lot of the team wanted to leave them. I get it, but these animals are our only way to make it to Karakorum in time. So we put in the work. From there, the tunnels opened into something massive. A chamber filled with Fluxgem-encrusted pillars. We heard it before we saw it—whips cracking, pickaxes striking stone. Frakas peeked around the corner. There they were: Two Earth Elemental guards (we recognized the type—seen ‘em used before by the Behemoth Brotherhood). Dozens of Goliath slaves. An active mining operation, deep underground. We hesitated. Not because we didn’t want to help—but because these things are powerful, and we were already running on fumes. But then again...this is what we do. We rushed them. I shifted back into Giant Bat form, Zapp mounted on my back. Figured we’d work as the mobile healers while the rest engaged. Gotta play smart when your team is on the edge. The first elemental dove into the stone, reemerging dangerously close to our frontliners. The second climbed toward a mound of collected Fluxgems. Bad move. Zapp let loose with a Fireball. Big one. The mountain of gems resonated with the blast—lighting up like a beacon, pulsing wildly. Then it happened: The elemental merged with the Flux, twisted and reshaped by the detonation. It became something bigger. Something...wrong. Some kind of Flux-infused Earth elemental god-thing. Didn’t know what to call it. Didn’t matter. We threw everything we had at it and brought it down hard. When the dust settled, we freed the slaves. Frakas stabilized a dying Goliath with a mohawk—purple, faded but unmistakable. Mayor Stonefist. Leader of the Free Goliaths. A legend. We thought he was dead. He wasn’t. He looked at us like ghosts. Then said just two words: “Free them.” We did. He led us deeper through the caverns. We saw what was left behind—experiments. Goliaths in massive glass tubes. Warped. Mutilated. Changed. Stonefist didn’t say much. Just shook his head and said: “Too late for them. They’ve undergone transformation.” FINAL NOTES: We’re still underground. Still moving. But this isn’t just a detour anymore—it’s a reckoning. Whatever’s happening with these Fluxgems, it’s deeper than mining. Someone is using them to change people. Twist them. And Karakorum is still 14 hours away. We're not going to let it fall. Attached Samples: 3x Raw Fluxgem Shards (glowing), 1x Contaminated Shard (fire-scorched, unstable) Status: Mission Ongoing Next Steps: Continue forward, locate exit route, assess if passage allows for accelerated transport toward Karakorum. Stonefist remains guide. Threat level elevated. End Report. —Cassian

S02E23: Steelhawk International – “Two Days to Burn” (The Tear)

Watcher:Yordad
1. Lvl 9 Cleric Tanlin "Tanline" Palespark Gator
2. L8 Paladin “Holy Cow” Tucker DMFifthRace
3. L10 Druid Cleric “How is she still T2?!” Cindella BobRob
4. Lvl 8 sorlock crazy “sane” earl williebeast
5. Lvl 9 Warocerer Yordad “Got milk?” Eshome AirDm | Bee
6. Lvl 7 Sentinel "He has Feet" @{P1} BongoLizard
Director, Here’s the breakdown so far. We’re about a day and a half out from Camp Karakorum. We’re down to three horses, but everyone’s still breathing (minus the corpse we found, I’ll get to that). We started the morning by checking our inventory. Pretty lean at this point, but nothing dire. Spirits were decent, despite the constant rain—which, by the way, hasn’t stopped for a solid day. Tuff Cookie made a move toward some local carabou—big antlered types hanging out just off the trail. Started chatting them up for support. Took a minute, but his silver tongue eventually warmed them up. Things got tense for a moment when the younger buck pushed back, clearly not into the idea. That’s when Crazy Earl steps in and does Crazy Earl things—wins him over with some raccoon meat. Can’t make this stuff up. The two of them sweetened the deal by pitching the idea of the elk becoming breeding stock at Karakorum. Yeah. Full-on livestock recruitment drive. Tuff also offered to build them stone shelters for weather protection, which got their attention. Aether backed him up, promised to keep them dry on the journey. Aether also prepped some kind of scent-masking trick. Can’t say how well it worked, but it didn’t hurt. We pushed forward for about an hour before the sky dropped even harder and then—of course—ambush. Two dragon riders came at us hard, their mounts twisted and not quite natural. Ugly things, sharp movements, like they were spliced with something. We held our ground and managed to put them down, but it wasn’t clean. Right after, more dragon screeches echoed nearby—backup inbound. Aether spotted a cave and made the call to shelter there. Good call. Once inside, Chorkva and I did a quick sweep. Found a dead body, probably two weeks old, slumped near the back. Didn’t get much time to inspect—still waiting on the rest of the team to regroup and secure the entrance. We’ll probably hold here until the storm breaks or the dragons lose interest. I’ll update again if we get moving or if anything else crawls out of the dark. – Yordad

S02E22 – Steelhawk International: "The Fire That Waits” The Road to Karakorum (The Tear)

Watcher:Gator
1.Tanlin Palespark
2. Sentinel
3. Yordad Eshome
4. Cindella
5. Crazy Earl
6. Tucker
So we was traveling through the forests of the Tear, making our way back to Karakorum, the center of Batu's strength in the area. We had killed Bold, son of Lorkbold, and now all these heckin Terror Squad folks was after us. We had a head start, but they used some fancy tree-walkin magic to get ahead of us and set an ambush. A terrible fight ensued, and boy was we mighty tired afterward. During the battle, we found Narak behind a rock, and one Terror Squad feller surrendered to us. His name was Tukhan or some such, but we just started callin him Tucan Sam. Couldn't tell ya what it means. This is where our story begins. So we tried interrogating Sam, but he didn't offer much help. Seems like he valued his own life enough to surrender, but was a true believer of the cause. "Lorkbold can't let you get away" he said to us when we tried to press him for some answers. Real nasty Feller Since he wasn't being cooperative, Ol Crazy Earl started having his way with him. Y'all know how Earl gets, and he was getting creative with his methods on this day. At one point we tied Sam to the horse with Cindella's special rope, and Earl sat right on top of him, slowly dripping acid on the poor feller's foot. It was a long ride for everyone that day, but most of all Sam. We decided to ride home in the fastest manner possible, but chose to start with a quick rest to catch our breath. During our break I learned for most certain that Sentinel is NOT a robot. More a construct. I don't right understand the difference, but he's a real swell guy. He and Dolores scouted around and kept watch as we rested. Batu showed up, and started tending to Narak. Batu let us make the decisions on how best to get back to Karakorum. We had to warn 'em you see, cause we only had 7 days until Bold's men (sent before he died) were gonna reach Karakorum and cause a real mess of trouble. Cindella road with me on Dolores, and YorDad plotted our course, then spent the whole journey in the bottle. Something about that felt nostalgic to me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what. Not long down the road, we encountered this BIG ol bear, and a slightly smaller female bear, aaaaaand then a baby bear. They was real mean critters, so we dispatched of them. It was pretty obvious the big bear was the Pappa Bear cause he had my daddy's face. So we killed 'em all. We kinda wanted to skin one, I think Tanlin was pretty eager for a new rug. The Papa Bear would have taken too long, and the baby bear didn't have enough fur, but the mama bear was juuust right So we skinned her corpse. We lost a horse during the battle, but then Sentinel summoned his own magical horse out of thin air! So cool! Later down the road, as we were coming to the edge of the forest, I noticed this weird stack of rocks on the side of the road. After we investigated with some detect magic and some smart fellers using their big ol brains, we realized there was likely something or someone important and powerful buried here. We sensed some abjuration and necromancy magic, so we decided to leave the rocks alone. Makes me wonder though. What do you 'sppose we missed? Eventually we got back out onto the plains, and the weather turned against us. It started raining. Tanlin was gonna try scrying on The Terrorsquad, but didn't know none of their names. Instead he checked on Tulraan, the druid in Karakorum. He was all safe and sound, and very naked. We decided to use the sending stones to send a waring to Karakorum, we let em know the Terror Squad was coming, and to get the infirm to safety... but forgot to tell em when the attack was gonna happen. We tried getting a little more out of Tucan Sam, but all he said was "You can kill me, you can knock me out, I won't tell you nothing... I know that you killed Bold". The storm started getting real bad, so we made a mad dash from some rocks to seek shelter. Cindella was worried about there being cancer-dragons, but we didn't see none. We spent some time huddling and hunkering down from the storm, and started talking battle tactics with Batu. We had spent about 2 days on the road, so the bad fellers were comin in 5. There was likely fewer than 200 invaders heading for Karakorum. Batu said they were roughly 400 or 600 strong in his camp, so we decided we was gonna set our own trap and stand and fight. We figured if we could get the kids and elderly to a safe place, and drench all the tents with water to keep em from burning, we could have all the able-bodied fighters ready to go and ambush the attackers when they came to burn the tents. Batu said: "If we can take care of Bold's men, it will severely hamper my grandfather. I could probably go knock on camp Ironhoof's door and takeover. I don't think there would be much of a fight. I will be dethroning my grandfather one way or another. This time it won't be so secretive. I'll be the one that does it." Now while we cooked up this plan, ol Tanlin went out in the rain and started speaking to a reindeer. I think he wanted it to ride ahead and warn Karakorum about the details of the attack, but mostly Tanlin just flirted with em. Then he got rejected. By a reindeer, who famously told Tanlin: "It's over dude" Image The rest of us agreed we needed to send a better warning to the camp about the attack, so Cindella was nice enough to cast sending. I was assured she gave them all the pertinent details. She said: "(Insert name) It's me Cindella.. oh shoot I'm wasting words.... Dampen the tents so fire doesn't spread, evacuate non-combatants to the West. Don't die, one more thing-" So I figure the message has been received, we will easily thwart Bold's attack, and then it's straight on to an easy win at camp Ironhoof! Soon as this rain stops.

S02E21 – Steelhawk International: "The Price of Silence” (Upper Tear on the Steppes)

Watcher:Gator
1. L10 Druid | Cassian DM | iFAIL
2. L11 Bard | Illyria •P1• ungeon(M)om -Minji
3. L9 Rogue | Gator
4. L8 Barbarian | Grimsnout SDM | David
5.L9 Pallock | Erabor Parzival
6. L10 Druid/Cleric | Cindella BobRob
The morning mist had thickened into a choking fog by the time we rode through the tree-lined path, our horses nervously snorting, hooves muffled on the mossy ground. I, Crock, sat low in my saddle, hand drifting near my belt, instincts itching. Cindella was murmuring something sadistic as usual or quiet prayers to her god, but I doubt it. Illyria hummed softly, her fingers brushing the strings of her lute, readying magic with a bard’s grace. Grimsnout’s axe bounced against his back, and Cassian’s eyes kept darting to the trees. Then the silence shattered. Arrows and spells came screaming from the treetops and the fog itself. “Ambush!” I shouted, blades flashing into my hands—Scimitar in one, shortsword in the other. My breath misted as I spun into the fog, ducking low, slashing at shapes I couldn’t fully see. From the swirling fog comes Cassian or what’s left of him. He’s huge now, scales and claws and teeth. A damned dinosaur! Riders scream and scatter, but there's nowhere to run in this maze of trees. He barrels through them, tail swinging, jaws snapping, a force of nature carved in scales. I can barely see five feet ahead. Somewhere to my left, Grimsnout roars, his voice a booming war drum as he charges forward, blind but brutal, swinging his axe in wide arcs. One of Lorkbold’s riders’ screams, cut down, maybe by friend or foe. It doesn’t matter. That’s one less trying to kill us. Cindella glows in the haze like a fever dream, her hands lifted to the sky, a grin on her face as blood trickles down her temple, she loves this. Golden light pulses from her, divine energy shielding us, bolstering us, even as she takes a hit from a stray arrow. “More... MORE!” she laughs like a lunatic cleric bathed in agony. Erabor, our golden-scaled warlock, stands calm in the eye of the storm, his eyes glowing like suns. He throws out curse after curse, his blade burning with pact-born vengeance. Illyria’s voice floats through the madness, soft and defiant. Her lute sings between fireballs and shouts, a gentle melody threading calm into the storm. Me? I weave through the fog like a wraith, blades flashing. One rider charges me, but he never sees the second sword. I duck low, slide beneath his swing, and drive steel into his ribs. Another swings blindly, misses me by inches and gets a scimitar across the gut for his trouble. We are chaos incarnate, blinded, bloodied, but unyielding. The fog doesn’t let up. We can’t see how many remain. We don’t even know if we’re winning. But with Cindella screaming for pain, Grimsnout howling like a beast, Cassian rampaging, Erabor burning the sky, and Illyria singing through it all... One by one, they fall. You can hear it in the fog—the heavy thuds of bodies hitting wet earth, the pained gasps as steel bites into flesh. The ambushers' spell-slinging turns frantic, wild, like animals trapped in their own chaos. They can’t see us. We can’t see them. But we’re winning. Then a cry….Erabor. A flash of golden light, then nothing. His body slams into the dirt, unmoving. “No!” I hear Cindella scream, not with fear… but glee. She dashes through the fog like a divine banshee, hands glowing bright. With a single, firm touch, Erabor’s eyes snap open, light pouring from his wounds as they knit together. He groans, then rises like a revenant reborn, seething with vengeance. Above us, a high screech tears through the air. I look up, Cassian, now a giant bat, erupts from the mist with wings spread wide and terrifying. The fog swirls around him as he launches into the trees, hunting the cowardly archers who thought they were safe. One by one, you can hear them fall snatched, slammed, dropped from the heights with animalistic brutality. Through the dying haze, the leader breaks free, a scarred woman draped in bark-like armor and clutching a curved blade. She sees the tide turning. She bolts. “Not so fast,” I mutter. Illyria already making chase, her lute slung behind her and a flash of determination in her eyes. Grimsnout barrels forward on foot, roaring, “YOU NO RUN GRIMSNOUT SMASH!”. I sprint beside them, smaller, faster, blade in hand. The three of us cut through the fog like vengeful ghosts. I leap over roots and fallen branches, heart pounding, breath tight. Back in the clearing, the last ambusher throws down his weapon, eyes wide, chest heaving. Cindella walks over calmly, smiling like she’s just finished a lovely bath in blood and fire. She pulls a coil of silken rope from her bag—don’t ask why she has it, or where she keeps it—and begins tying him to the nearest tree with the grace and enthusiasm of someone wrapping a gift. “There we go,” she says sweetly. “Tight... but not too tight. We want him to breathe after all.” With one ambusher secured by Cindella’s silken rope, Cindella, Erabor and Cassian join in the pursuit of chasing down the ambusher’s leader. Illyria, seeming to be falling behind wild shaped into a T-rex. Erabor with his quick thinking climbed onto Illyria’s back and sprinted towards the leader. Gromsnout ahead of me activates his ability and teleports me near him to cut down the distance. I say “Thanks” and sprint towards the leader to try and cut her down once more. A few moments later we are all on top of her. Cassian on top of her, casts Moonbeam taking her out of the fight and ending the chase once and for all. We head back to the tied-up prisoner and begin to question him. While I and others search the bodies for information. I found a map, leather bound showing every location and every camp in The Tear. But Jochi, his name we come to find out, the one Cindella gift-wrapped to a tree with that silken rope (still not asking), is alive and squirming. He stares at us, defiant but bruised. His face is smeared with dirt and dried blood, and the more we stare, the more his bravado withers. Eventually, it cracks. In a threatening manner, showing no regard to his own life. “You think we’re Lorkbold’s?” he spits. “You idiots. We’re not part of that two-copper mutt’s pack.” I arch a brow. “Then who are you?” He smirks, a tooth loose and wobbling in his mouth. “We’re Bold’s men. The Terror Squad.” (edited) He says it like we should be impressed. I’m not. Illyria tenses, her gentle face darkened with realization. Grimsnout growls in a low tone, like a brewing storm. Jochi continues, eager now that someone’s listening. “We’ve been scrying on you for days. Watching. Waiting. Knew your route. Know your names. We were just the distraction.” I step forward, blades sheathed but my fingers twitching. “Distraction for what?” He grins. “Camp Karakorum. We were going to hit it at night. While you lot bled in the woods.” A heavy silence falls. Cassian, back in his druid form, glances at the sky still shrouded in a heavy dense fog. “How many?” “All of us,” Jochi says. “Everything Boldt’s got. While you were dancing in the fog.” Erabor steps forward, smoldering eyes locked on Jochi. “Then you’ve failed. Because now we know.” Suddenly, the air shimmers behind us, a swirl of arcane energy twisting the fog into a spiraling vortex. We all step back, blades and spells ready. A portal snaps open like a blade drawn from its sheath. From within the glowing rim of arcane light, a tall figure steps through, clad in gleaming black-and-bronze armor, cloak snapping behind him. Chief Batu. “Report,” Batu commands, voice like thunder dragged through gravel. No one hesitates. We explain everything—Jochi’s confession, the ambush, the scrying, the planned night assault on the camp. Batu listens, unmoving. Only when the tale is done does he step forward and look Jochi dead in the eye. “You’re going to tell me everything,” he says. Jochi pales. Cindella just smiles and tightens a knot in the rope with slow, deliberate joy. Jochi sits next to the tree like a side of meat, bound in silken rope that somehow looks more like a love letter than a restraint. Cindella’s handiwork. She’s humming to herself, wiping blood from her weapon with the same gentle grace a barmaid might clean a spilled drink. We stand in a rough circle around him—mud on our boots, blood on our weapons, fog still clinging to the edges of the clearing like ghosts who haven’t yet realized they’re dead. The silence stretches. “I say we slit his throat,” I mutter, stepping forward. “He’s said all he needs to. Loose ends get people killed.” Grimsnout grunts, sharpening his blade with deliberate scrapes of stone on steel. “If you don’t, I will. He led the attack. He knew. Blood for blood.” But then Illyria steps in, voice calm but heavy. “That’s not justice. That’s murder. He surrendered.” Her words sting like frostbite. I sneer. “He surrendered after they lost. And if we let him go, he’ll either spill our secrets or get a knife in the back from Bold himself”. Erabor folds his arms, silent, his golden eyes locked on Jochi. “Illyria isn’t wrong. But neither are you. If Bold finds out he talked, he’s dead. If we kill him now, we’re no better than the Terror Squad.” “But if we release him,” Cassian says, leaning on his staff, “we reveal everything. Who we are, who we serve, what we know. Bold will know we’re onto him. He’ll shift, scatter, vanish into the wind.” (edited) Jochi chuckles bitterly, spitting blood on the ground. “You think Bold cares about me? I’m dead either way. You let me go, and he’ll carve my name out of the stone himself.” “Then you’ve made my case,” I say, hand on my hilt. “He’s dead weight. He’ll be hunted if he talks. And if he doesn’t, he’s a time bomb. Loose ends, like I said.” Illyria glances down, her voice soft now. “There has to be another way.” “There isn’t,” I snap. (edited) Chief Batu watches in silence, only now stepping forward. “This is your prisoner. You earned the right to decide his fate. But make no mistake—time is not our ally.” The fog shifts. Jochi swallows hard, looking between us, knowing his fate dances on a blade’s edge. We all stare at each other, party divided, no clear path forward. One prisoner. Too many choices. And my blades grow restless. The debate ends, not with a blade, but with a heavy, reluctant silence. We decide he lives. For now. Jochi doesn’t thank us. Smart. He knows this mercy is no kindness, just a delay of the inevitable. Cindella reties the knots with a pleased hum, tugging the rope a little tighter than necessary as Illyria watches with quiet worry. Grimsnout growls but stomps off ahead, muttering curses under his breath. Cassian takes to the trees in beast form again, watching the road from above. I mention to Chief Batu that he has to relocate the camp to keep his people alive and safe. ::End Of Report::

S02E20 – Steelhawk International: “Destiny at Your Heels” (Upper Tear on the Steppes)

Watcher:Zephyr
1. Aerith (resident lightning bolt)
2. Erabor (the shiny spell-slinger)
3. Cindella (healing magic and wild mood swings)
4. Aether (thunderborn and anchor),
5. Mira (changeling and lifesaver)
6. Iona (steel and spear)
Steelhawk Mission Report Filed by Iona Hansdottir Season 2, Episode 20 – “Destiny at Your Heels” Location: Upper Tear, Steppes Region We should’ve died. All of us. Horses too. Six of us, fleeing for our lives on borrowed mounts (while still tending to Narak, the mysterious injured woman we’d found), were driven to the edge of a ravine too wide to jump and too deep to shout down. Our only option? A rope bridge held together by hopes and prayers. Behind us, a clan war party closing in, and ahead of us, a crossing that groaned if you looked at it wrong. The Plan: Send two across first—test the bridge before committing the lot. Erabor and Cindella would hold the rearguard for a potential escape with some magic, the rest of us ready to hold or charge based on what Predictably, chaos. The bridge tried to kill us before the enemy even got close. Horses balked, planks dropped, ropes twisted in the wind. We were sitting ducks for long-range arrows—bless their archers for being too good at their job. Everyone took hits, including the horses. Two of the six died, and that was before the halfway point. (edited) Erabor used some kind of teleport spell to pop across with one horse, which stranded Aether on the near side. Cindella threatened to kill her own mount in a tantrum and demanded to be carried by the Dragonborn. Mira made it over first and turned to help the rest—good instincts, that one. I almost didn’t make it. My horse was taken out just shy of the biggest gap. With no choice, I jumped. Missed. Mira reacted fast, snagged me midair with her thorn whip. It tore up my arm but beat the fall—I owe her. Might even look cool once it scars over. Once I was clear, I scrambled to gather the surviving horses and get them out of bow range. Aether bought us breathing room with Fog Cloud, and then began crossing. Aerith got knocked off by a wind gust, but used Misty Step to recover (for once, I’m grateful for all this damn magic). Once we were all across, Aerith nuked the bridge with a fireball to cut off pursuit. Cindella cast something too, now insists on being called “Bridge-slayer.” (We’re ignoring her.) We rode. Four horses left. Barely. Heal spells flying, prayer beads on the animals, Cindella and Aether doing their best to patch the worst of us mid-sprint. Aether used some nature magic to confuse our trail, and we aimed for the thin forest north of Camp Sunstrider. That’s when Batu stepped out of a rock. No idea how he found us—portals don’t go both ways, and we sure didn’t send for help. He brought food, tents, and his usual attitude. Said: “You guys are safe! Why are you riding so fast? What happened?” Like we were out for a joyride. We made camp, set magical wards, let the casters rest their brains, and shared some of Batu’s rations while his crew whispered about what must’ve happened. We’re reasonably confident the enemy clan didn’t get a good look at us. Not that it’ll matter if they track us by trail instead of sight. The Dream We all had the same one. Every single one of us. A voice spoke in our heads: “You walk in my son’s blood and the ground remembers.” I saw: Torogar’s shrine, Lorkbold breaking a ceremonial urn, His sister’s red hands, Batu’s silhouette: “You let it happen. You let it all happen.”, The painting of Torogar… talking., To me, it said: “You were made to survive, but do you even know why you are fighting? The Steelhawks will let you down.” I don’t know what that means. But I wrote it down. Might take it to Tucker later. Or maybe I won’t. For the others: To Erabor: “Your pact is inked in a truth you no longer believe”, To Mira: “you chase stillness in a world that trembles. Will you break or bend?”, A woman in warpaint said: “You let it happen again.”, We woke to fog so thick you could taste it. Packed camp quickly and ate while riding. The forest was too still. Something felt off. We tried baiting a trap, scouted ahead magically, but nothing moved. Until it did. Lightfoot soldiers, like ghosts, popped up all around us. Armed. Furious. Ready. Report ends here—because what happened next is going to need its own page. Or chapter. Respectfully submitted, Iona Hansdottir Fighter, Steelhawks First (and hopefully last) unplanned bridge crossing

S02E19 – Steelhawk International: “No Chief Left Standing” (Chase Scene Across Open Steppes)

Watcher:Zephyr
1. L5 Sorcerer Louise Bellmore IrateSaint
2. L7 Barb/Fighter - Dande’ Lion AirDm | Bee
3. L4 Monk - Aleki the Swift Chainsaw Flowerchild
4. L5 Monk - Rose Talbot @[P1]QueenRandomFandom
5. L6 Paladin - Sentinel @{P2} BongoLizard
6. L5 Monk - Zephyr Gator
7. L4 Paladin - Violet Pollenborne @〖P2〗Artie
The wind tears at my mane as we ride, hooves thundering like war drums over the cold, broken earth. My steed breathed heavy beneath me, sweat steaming off its flanks in the night air. The moon is full too full. Its silver gaze paints us in betrayal. Each glint of armor, each flash of steel, reveals us to the night. I ride at the rear, watching shadows stretch and twist across the earth behind us like black tendrils reaching from the past, trying to pull us back into it. Seven of us. Riders. Monks, Paladins. Survivors. Our breath is all fog, grit and desperation. Behind us howls. Horns. The thunder of more hooves. Lorkbold’s wrath, a storm loosed upon the earth. My team yells back, “They are 4,571 Snickers bars behind us”. I can feel it like a tremor in my tailbone. He will not grieve quietly. I shift in the saddle, senses flaring, listening not with ears but with instinct an ancient pulse born in the deep places of the jungle. My eyes scan the dark plains ahead. No campfire smoke. No lights. Just the long breath of the night, cold and indifference. The stars blink overhead in silence. Witnesses, maybe, but not allies. I reach into the void, the place where shadow answers my call. For a heartbeat, I am darkness. For a breath, I am unseen. I ride on. The night is thick with silence—too thick. Even the crickets have quieted. A stillness has fallen over the land, the kind that comes before a kill. I crouch low behind a hulking boulder, its cold surface slick with dew, the stone worn smooth by time but jagged enough to hide death in its shadow. My brothers and sisters-in-arms are scattered among the rocks seven blades in a sheath of night. Some kneel with bows drawn, others clutch steel wet with earlier blood. We are wolves now, still and silent in the brush, breath held, hearts slow. The moon hangs high above, a pale, judging eye that sees all but speaks nothing. The stars remain aloof gods who never intervene. My muscles are coiled tight, but my breath is calm. I listen. The ground tells me they’re coming. A faint rumble, hooves on packed earth. The scent of sweat and iron filters through the trees. Too many feet for stealth. They think they’re hunters. They don’t know we’ve turned. I peer around the stone, eyes gleaming faintly in the dark, trained to see what others miss. There is a flicker of movement. A glint of a spear tip in the moonlight. Lorkbold’s dogs. Maybe fifteen, maybe twenty. They are fanned out in pursuit, blades still wet with vengeance, unaware they’ve wandered into our jaws. My claws curl into the earth. I feel every heartbeat in my limbs. The shadow clings to me like a cloak, like armor forged with ink and intention. This is my realm not theirs. I signal with a soft click of my tongue. Barely a sound. But they hear it the others. We hunted together. We don’t need words anymore. One more step, I think. One more heartbeat. Let them get close. I hear the pursuers before I see them armor creaking, boots crunching, the nervous breaths of men who think they’re hunters. They fan out slowly, methodically, like they’ve done this before. I watch them from the dark, unmoving, my breath a ghost in the cold night air. Their discipline surprises me—they’re not panicked, not foolish. They’re cautious. And that… complicates things. They’re positioning themselves in the clearing just beyond the rocks, spacing out with deliberate precision. Possibly sending in a couple scouts to find our location. A kill zone. Their commander calls out a signal not a shout, but a series of short, rhythmic clicks. Military. Trained. They don’t know where we are. But they know we’re somewhere. And they’re about to blanket the darkness in steel-tipped guesswork. The night presses close, thick and breathless like a held inhale. My pulse is steady, slow, trained but the hairs along my spine rise all the same. I crouch beneath the reach of a jagged boulder, its hulking shadow wrapping around me like an old friend. Around me, my brothers and sisters lie buried in the dark seven hearts, one rhythm. Behind us, death waits on strings’ archers in the trees, ready to rain steel the moment we rise. “Did you hear that?” Violet’s voice is a breath more than a whisper; a thread of sound passed from rock to rock. I glance across the shadows and find her tucked behind the stone to my left; eyes fixed toward another outcropping beyond our line. She tilts her head. Listens. Moaning. Faint. Weak. Human? MC, always the first into fire and the last out of it, shifts beside me. One nod is all it takes he disappears, low and fluid, a shadow crawling through the earth. I listen to his passage the soft crunch of pebbles, the brief scuff against root. Then: silence. Too much silence. MC finds a woman who is injured, he takes his time to heal her a bit closing some of her wounds. We can hear in the distance that she is a spy for Chief Batu and must get to him quickly, but that’s all we heard from her from the distance between us. Then like shadow speak I hear MC say, “It’s something that I do”. Unsure what he meant by that, but it could have to do with helping the helpless. The planes stretch before us, wide and bare beneath the watchful eye of the moon, open country, exposed, the kind of place where shadow has no purchase and arrows find hearts with ease. We keep low, moving fast across the swaying grasses, every step measured, every breath precious. Behind us, Lorkbold’s men still hunt, their bloodlust burning hot through the night like torches in a storm. slow, uncertain, like a fawn still slick with birth. Her head turns toward the horizon. The wind catches her hair. Her eyes, still sunken and hollow, fix on something unseen. And then, gods damn it, she starts walking. Into the open. Into the middle of the planes. “MC,” I growl low, “she’s up.” He’s already turning, already moving. The rest of us halt behind another rise, crouching low among the tall grass as he jogs after her, soft and swift on padded feet. “Lady,” he calls to her, voice sharp but not cruel, “what are you doing? It’s about to get rowdy.” She doesn’t answer. Just kept walking slowly and distant, like sleepwalking through a nightmare. Then, her knees buckled. She folds into the grass like a felled tree, breath gone from her body in a single exhale. MC curses, reaches her, lifts her with care. I see the tension on his shoulders, the worry crawling up his spine. He hoists her back onto the horse, tightening the reins with one hand, steadying her with the other. No complaint from the steed, it knows this is a night of strange burdens. We start moving again. Faster now. We can’t afford more surprises. Our window is closing. Lorkbold’s trackers won’t lose us forever, not in the open. Not without blood. The planes fell behind us hours ago, and now the land has changed, sharper, stranger. The ground grows uneven, the hills steeper, carved by age and forgotten storms. The wind bites colder here. It whistles through the cracks like a warning. And then we find it. The gorge. It yawns before us like the mouth of some ancient beast, jagged and black, a wound in the world itself. No light is down there. No reflection from the moon. Just… void. The silence so deep it hums in my bones. We line up at the edge, seven shadows on a cliffside, and stare. A wooden bridge stretches across, narrow, swaying, its ropes creaking with every whisper of wind. It doesn’t look trustworthy. It barely looks real. I can smell the rot in the rope. The damp in the planks. It’ll hold if we’re lucky. If the gods feel generous. They rarely do. MC adjusts the woman on the saddle. She hasn’ May Elder Mossbloom be with me. END OF REPORT:

S02E18 Steelhawk International: Thunder Without Mercy (Camp Ironhoof)

Watcher: Munster
1. L5 Sorcerer Louise Bellmore IrateSaint
2. L7 Cleric Zass Lightfoot SDM | Coach
3. L6 Wizard Nova Cain AirDm | Bee
4. L5 Monk Rose Talbot @[P0]QueenRandomFandom,
5. L7 Druid Zapp Arhen @{P0} ADM?! | Riley
6. L6 Fighter Grunthor MattJFrank
7. Munster
Objective: Politics, Cheese Recon, Maybe Knife a Guy Filed By: Munster "The Cheddarblade" of Ebonvale Status: Accomplished (Mostly)

Alright. So listen. This big dumb mission started with us stuck right in the middle of the Thunderhoof camp, dressed up like Bold’s butt-sniffin’ warriors. We surrounded. We disguised. We nervous. But Munster? Munster focused. Munster not scared. Munster smell cheese. Phase One: Infiltration Begins (Also Cheese Watch Begins) Lorkbold—big mean grandpa—missing from his big tent. Real suspicious. Everyone say Bold, his snarly son, maybe taking over. Sounds like power-grabby nonsense, but Munster know what’s really going on: power vacuum means unattended cheese trays. So we get to sneakin'. Louise talk to grumpy elder guy, and he spill some info about war prep and fear rule and favoritism and stuff. I tune out. No cheese talk. Not important. But then—I get idea. If Lorkbold gone, me and old man Zass sneak into tent. Zass go invisible, Munster already real sneaky-like. Zass? Invisible, yeah. Quiet? NO. Kickin’ pillows, trippin’ over rugs, makin’ ghost noises. Lucky Louise play music outside and distract guards while we inside. We find pages: On Guard Routes sheet: "Names of warriors punished or reassigned. Some indicate 'insubordination,' others 'loyalty uncertainty.'" Council Minutes: “Lorkbold hasn’t attended in full for weeks. Bold’s name appears more and more.” Unfinished Response Scrolls: “Several dictated letters from Lorkbold with corrections in his shaky hand. They trail off mid‑sentence.” I grab ‘em. Mission cheese—I mean data—secured. Phase Two: Tavern Tactics (AKA Milk Beer Mayhem) We hit the Veteran’s Tent. Grunthor start drinkin’. Louise play music. Nova tip waitress (but only tip—more later). I order “fermented mare milk.” It's milk. That’s close to cheese. Counts.
I pretend to be drunk (good actin’!) and yell about Bold licking toes to get promotions. Old man gets mad. I fall off stool and spill milk. Distraction complete. Munster genius.
Rose eavesdrop. Zass and Grunthor bond with drunk guy named Turag. Nova meet waitress outside and learns:

Young warriors back Bold

Oldies back Lorkbold

Some still respect Batu's daddy Jargal we learn of guy name Chuluun

Important, but where’s the fondue? Phase Three: Chuluun & Secret Plans We meet a tent-fixer guy named Chuluun. Weird name. Seems important. Says he support Batu, but in secret. Tells us:

Lorkbold spend too much time in shrine tent (statue of big grandpa guy Torogar)

Gives us invisibility potions (good stuff!)

Hands over secret raid plans against Batu

Tells us where storehouses are and more!

We swap documents, start assignin’ loyal people to inside jobs and Bold’s people to outer ones. He calls this “sabotage.” Munster calls it smart-cheese-ing. Phase Four: Sneak Back, Shrine Vibes, and Cheese Prophecy?! I sneak back into Lorkbold’s tent (through hole in wall!). There’s a guy inside! Birdie from Zapp distracts him, I sneak in, swap papers, get out just in time. Then we visit the shrine. Real spooky vibes. We see Picture of Torogar. Zass say he hear voice in head it say: “You wear another’s banner. You step in broken tracks. You follow a fire you cannot name.” I hear music—stone callin’ me! I read stuff on altar: “Here stood TOROGAR, First‑Breaker of the Great Herd. He rode from the Circle, alone, with storm in his mouth and blood on his hands. He spoke: ‘One tribe makes slaves. I ride for fire, not leash.’ From him came Thunderhoof. From his hoofprint came fracture. From his silence came the storm.” Munster realize: Torogar broke the tribes apart. Batu maybe doing same, but backwards. Me feel smart for whole six seconds. Phase Five: Whisperskin Sees Too Much
We meet creepy seer lady named Whisperskin. She somehow sees me even when invisible. I don’t like that. I warn her not to pinch Munster cheeks. She say weird stuff: TO MUNSTER: "The wheel turns, and with it, the rind splits. You will find strength where curds break and fat clings—your path lies with the one who hoards, not shares. But beware: the sharper the cheese, the deeper the betrayal. And when you smell the blue mold... do not speak. Rage will serve you better than reason." Munster takes this very serious. Write it in brain. Sharp cheese equals betrayal. Blue mold means BATTLE. She also tells others: To Nova: “You will see something older than gods… and it will see you.”

To Grunthor: “You will not die in war, but in peace... unless you bleed first for something unbroken.”

To Louise: “Your blood remembers what your mind dares not. The storm inside you wants out—but not for your sake.”

To Zass: “One day your god Lothander will ask you to look away. But there will be a child who cannot.”

To Rose: “You will kill the wrong man, and he will thank you as he dies.” Then she gives us healing potions and says, “May Torgi be with you.” I hope he bring parmesan. Phase Six: Plan The Fight, Then… THE FIGHT

Louise forge letter from Bold, makin’ it look like he about to stage coup. We go to Lorkbold’s tent and pretend to be scouts. I sneak in again to hide. Meeting starts. Something off with Lorkbold he sickly and weird. I sneak closer but someone spots me! Yells “INTRUDER!” Everyone freaks out. We fight. HARD. Bold is TOUGH. Alot of us bleed.

S02E17 Steelhawk International:

Watcher: Sentinel[be] 1. MC Hammerstorm Ant
2. Sir Squeaksalot Sew
3. Grunthor MattJFrank
4. Zipzap @$$P2$$SDM | Coach
5. Khraali Greatcloak

Mission Report: Dispatch to the Tear

Morning – Mission Prep

Part 1: Introductions, New and Newer Things Objective: Team introductions Actions: Observe, listen, introduce, assess skills Notable Recruits: A talking mouse and a mind flayer Report: We began our mission in The Tear—my first deployment to this region. The landscape was stunning, full of rolling hills and strange wildlife, rivaling even the Whimsical Woods in curiosity. Our task: escort a prisoner. It's odd—just recently I was with another crew transporting a prisoner from Zaraviya. Maybe there's a shift happening within the Steelhawks. Perhaps mercy, not might, is becoming our sharpest blade. Before the mission, I was assigned to a new unit—an odd, fascinating bunch. Among them, a talking mouse and a mind flayer, both clearly capable. Their skill as Steelhawks was yet to be proven, but as riders, that would be tested first. Our initial task was to relocate the prisoner, mounted on powerful, six-legged steeds.

Noon – Mission Begins

Part 2: We Move, Prisoner in Tow Objective: Secure and transfer prisoner Actions: Locate holding yurt, deliver prisoner, find Batu Notes: Prisoner may require neutral guards; current safety uncertain Report: We departed northeast, riding the Thunderhooves—impressive beasts, swift and powerful enough to carry even me. It was my first time riding them, but certainly not my last, I hope. As we approached the next camp, we found festivities underway. To avoid attention, I helped MC Hammerstorm bring the prisoner discreetly to the holding yurt, where Yur Kiokraamu stood guard. He muttered bitterly: “She ambushed an envoy... if I had my way, I’d kill her.” Fortunately, we secured the prisoner without conflict. Next, we sought Batu, who was observing the camp from a hillside. I dismounted, bowed, and offered condolences for the loss of his aunt, Saran, on behalf of all Steelhawks.

Late Afternoon – Reconnaissance

Part 3: Seek Action, Find Path Objective: Interrogate prisoner, plan infiltration Actions: Meet with Batu, interrogate prisoner, plan next steps Insight: Disguises may help future infiltration efforts Report: Batu addressed us from the hilltop, conflicted: “Should I invoke the Rite of the Redhorn and fight my grandfather? But... Grandpa fights dirty. He attacks women, children, elders.” After some discussion, he agreed the duel was unwise—for now. We briefed him on the prisoner. Khraali warned she might feed us falsehoods. Batu asked us to interrogate her ourselves. I noted—he may be gentler than I thought. That may not be a weakness. Back at the holding yurt, half the party entered. I stayed out with Khraali, both of us uneasy. Batu eventually entered. Harsh words, a slap, then: “The only one scary here is the mouse.” Unclear who said it, but silence followed. Eventually, the others emerged with a plan: infiltrate Lorkbold’s camp in disguise. The prisoner revealed a guard shift change in a few hours—our best window.

Evening – Infiltration

Part 4: Enact, Engage Objective: Infiltrate enemy camp Actions: Enter disguised, avoid detection, locate Lorkbold Observation: Enemy is strong, but likely overconfident Report: With disguises and Batu’s support, we set out for Lorkbold’s camp at dusk. Most of us disguised as his warriors; Khraali posed as the prisoner. Oruk guided us and tended our steeds when we dismounted just outside camp. We slipped past sentries and watchtowers thanks to Zass’s abjuration spells—he may be old, but his magic is sharp. Soon we stood before the central yurt, ‘prisoner’ in tow. I stayed silent, observing. The enemy was well-fed, strong, and alert. We were surrounded—but not yet discovered. Our deception had brought us this far. I could only hope it would carry us to the finish. It may not be my way, but in this moment, it’s the path forward.

End of Report

S02E16 Steelhawk International: Echoes Before Thunder (Camp Karakorum)

Watcher: Aether
1. L4 Monk Aleki Chainsaw Flowerchild
2. L4 barbarian Dnorg birb
3. L4 Monk Zephyr Gator
4. L6 Monk Hammer Ant
5. L7 Cleric Lumi @•P1• DM | Minji
6. L7 Sorc Aether SDM | Aviator
It’s been about a week since our clash with the elementals. We managed to bury the dead and get the wounded back to Batu's camp. After some well-earned rest, we’re now gathered around the breakfast table. Batu’s tribe is here, along with the werewolves. Tension still lingers, but the mood’s noticeably better. Breakfast was solid: lamb, potatoes, and sweet green porridge. Not bad, all things considered. I myself loaded up on those meat pie–like breads. Stocked up enough to last me a month. (No regrets.) Aleki devoured the spread too, mumbling something about needing strength to build his temple. Dnorg, through a mouthful of potatoes, mentioned being a “side piece” to someone or something—I couldn’t quite hear the details over all the enthusiastic chewing. He seemed to love those potatoes as much as I love thunder. Or meat pies. It’s a toss-up. Nanna remains a mystery wrapped in a question mark. As for Lumi... I still can’t tell if she’s trying to protect us or get us killed. During breakfast, Batu brought up Lorkbold. He wanted to hear our thoughts—what should we do next? The camp’s grown enough that any major movement will definitely get noticed. Nanna offered a clever plan: stage a distraction targeting Batu’s grandfather, while we strike at Lorkbold’s tribe directly. The catch? Time’s not on our side. The Khazari are already watching, and soon they’ll start wiping out more camps. We’d also caught wind of something strange—hoofprints spotted south of the camp. A large group of horses passed through and stayed for a while. Batu asked us to investigate. Before we set out, I thought Zephyr and Nanna were getting close. But then she vanished. Poof. Just like that. Looked like we were down a party member… but then Zephyr told me she was still speaking to him. In his head. So… half a party member? Getting the saddles right was a bit of a struggle, but eventually we found our rhythm and moved out. Lumi scouted ahead and noted a lot of rocks—just rocks at first. Dnorg, Zephyr, Aleki, and MC Hammer took some time to inspect and break a few apart. In the middle of one rock formation, they uncovered what looked like a mammoth’s hip bone. Naturally, Lumi tried to sneak it away. Most of us noticed. Then she tried to use it as a weapon against a rock. Don’t ask me why. That was the end of the bone. She also trampled around a bit and muddled the very hoofprints we were supposed to be tracking—but hey, we still managed. The trail led to the edge of a cliff. Judging from the signs, a group had stayed there for some time—likely watching us. As we started heading back, Dnorg rounded a corner and shouted—he’d spotted Lorkbold’s warriors. Combat followed. Brutal, intense, and full of thunder. (Get it? Because I’m a storm sorcerer. I bring the thunder.) Their forces couldn’t withstand our might. We even managed to reclaim a few horses—and captured a prisoner to boot. When we returned, the camp was still safe. Batu was unharmed. Nanna led the mission like a seasoned general—sharp, level-headed. She gave Batu excellent advice: if he’s going to take the fight to Lorkbold, he needs to protect the camp. Either bring the battle here where we can keep eyes on it, or move the camp and hide it entirely. Because if there’s one thing we know about Lorkbold—it’s that he’s smart, dishonorable, and ruthless enough to strike when we’re distracted. All I gotta say is I think we should have Batu challenge Bold to a fight here in camp, but that we should make sure everyone that can fight in the camp is armed and that we have an evacuation plan. This strategy should minimize risk and optimizes the amount of people we can get to aid the defense against the Khazari. Well, that's all I got. This is Aether, Signing off.

S02E15 – Steelhawk International: “After the Fire” (Steppewind Ruins)

Watcher: Desmond Von Draven
1. L6 Sorlock Yordad Eshome AirDm | Bee,
2. L6 Drunk MC Hammersmith Ant
3. L7 fighter Iona QueenKong
4. L7 cleric/sorcerer aether SDM | Aviator
5. L7 Cleric Tanlin Palespark Gator
6. L7 Druid Reena Mirth
Watcher: Gator As morning came, we woke up one by one, I started making tea and coffee for my fellow companions Yordad starts to wake up the others as I asked those who wanted tea or coffee. “I have green tea and black tea if you don't like coffee” I say, as we sit there drinking our morning drink Chief Batu comes into our yurt. We tell him about her visions about the aliens wearing mechanical suits that cover them from head to toe. I tell him that these aliens are somewhat like locusts who invade planets for their resources and take no quarter to the species that live there. We fought them in the astral plane, and you could see silvery white tethers to our physical bodies somehow knowing that if these tethers were cut, we would be gone forever. The yurt cover opens again, and a young lady brings us breakfast. She has a very pretty face. Chief Batu tells us “We are to eat in today”. He lets us know that we are to travel, not with him but at his emissaries, to the Steppewind tribe to the Whisperer’s Rest. The previous Chief Jargal (This is Chief Batu’s father) then comes into our yurt speaking softly telling us it won't be easy where you are going. We're told to be quick because time is of the essence. There are horses that are being provided for us and if we went solely by horseback, it would take us three days to get to our destination, they had a special tree there only Turaan could open for us as the tree acts like a portal that will cut our trip down by 75%. Yordad asks for proof to show that we are in fact Chief Batu’s emissaries. He hands us a letter with his seal imprinted with the Thunderhoof Tribes crest. Chief Batu then tells us that the stores are all open and that we should prepare ourselves for anything that may occur. Some of my companions went over to the magic shop while I went to the blacksmith to upgrade my armor. As we all finished our shopping, we met up northeast of the camp where all the horses were. We meet up with Turaan who tells us to mount up as he opens the portal. He tells us, “Be safe, be quick and may Torgi guide you”. Turaan stood by the ancient tree, its bark gnarled and shimmering faintly with a subtle magic. He pressed his palm against the twisted trunk and murmured words lost to all but the winds. The air before us shimmered, opening into a swirling portal, its depths promising both peril and possibility. The horses shifted restlessly, sensing the magic, but held firm as we mounted. One by one as we entered the portal on horseback we found our way into a shaded wooded area about an hour away from Whisperer’s Rest. The area is filled with trees and Moss with branches laying on the ground like scattered bones. I almost fell off my horse due to the saddle not being secured properly, however Reena was able to come to my rescue before I fell. Once things settled down, we got on our way heading north after finding our direction and heading via mother nature’s natural oddities (Moss growing on the northside of the trees). MC noticed that the entire area was silent, not even animal sounds in the distance barely wind blowing through the treetops just silence. We make our way onto a path that appears to be heading to Whisperer’s Rest and then suddenly out of the corner of our eyes a wildebeest emerges charging for MC soon after that a giant grizzly bear emerged from underneath the ground almost took me out in one swipe and then another wildebeest emerged from the direction that the other one came from attacking Iona. Reena was crying because she had to harm living creatures. She shapeshifted into a dire wolf and did what had to be done. As we were able to successfully dispatch these three wild creatures, Reena felt a little hungry and started eating the bear, I was asking her to stop so we could use the meat for rations. For we still had journey to complete and that's when she noticed that when she was gorging into the bear, there were human body parts inside the stomach, and she started throwing up profusely. MC checked on the wildebeest to see why their eyes were glowing. He thought it could have been from the magic gemstones that these aliens were looking for, but it was their natural intimidating glare and not the gems. After we got done looking at these beasts collecting what we could have used afterwards we continued our journey to Whisperer’s Rest. We see up in the distance smoke rising from the air, first we think it’s from campfires but as we get closer, we notice that it is a camp engulfed in flames from a battle not that long ago. We approached the camp to see villagers, children looking gloomy and many elders. MC points out an elderly gentleman helping a wounded lady. Aether made his way over to the gentleman and helps the lady with a Cure Wounds spell. Her eyes fluttered and she let out a scream. Reena, in the distance to my right, did the same thing but this person didn't scream. Between Aether and Yordad, they asked the elderly gentleman if he was the leader of these people. He said, “I am not but I am through necessity”. He fills us in that this is what remains of Whisperer’s Rest. He tells us that the Khazari attacked their camp and soon after that at least 10 earth elementals showed up and did more damage. He found it strange because these elementals haven't been here in six months’ time since their God warded them away. We tell them about Chief Batu and how he is trying to bring together all the tribes and the Tear. The elderly gentleman doesn't know who Chief Batu is, so we tell him about his recent upcoming as a new chief leader of the Thunderhoof tribe, and that he is destined to be a great warrior and leader. The elderly gentleman said that they would join and make their way to Chief Batu's camp, but only after they recover their loved ones from the camp in the distance and give them their funeral rites. After hearing this ordeal, we start to form a plan of how to scope out the area since the elderly man told us that the elementals were still there. Yordad casts a spell on himself and placed himself inside his genie bottle and had Reena's familiar carry him around the perimeter of the camp so he could try to scan out the locations of the elementals. He makes his way back to us and tells us that he was able to detect three earth elementals at the time, but they were all underground moving and indistinct patterns, but he didn't want to get too close to the center of the camp. We approached the camp from the southwest side and slowly made our way one by one. wanting to see if we could see anything. Aether and Yordad were first to enter, and I could see from a distance that both started to throw up. I asked them, “what was wrong?” They exclaimed it was the smell of burning flesh that made them gag. MC noticed there were holes in the middle of everyone's yurts as if something exploded out of the ground. The earth elementals were looking for something. However, we did notice that they were staying away from the center of the camp but there was an ominous presence warding them away. As Aether got closer to the center of the camp, he said he saw what appeared to be hands emerging from the ground. That’s when one of the earth elementals showed their face (do elementals have faces?). Our battle was long steady and hard, these creatures were tough to bring down after the first earth elemental showed, one more popped up from underground and after several minutes went by, a third one appeared. We were being attacked and bombarded by three at a time at one point MC went down but he was soon to get up with Reena and my support. These earth elementals seemed to be resistant or immune to our attacks and spells. Aether, standing in the middle of the camp near this device that had glowing inscription of sorts on its sides. He tried to dig it up but was unsuccessful. After successfully dispatching the earth elementals we gathered up to heal our wounds and to see if everyone was okay, for our job wasn't done yet, we still had bodies to collect. Through exhaustion from our perilous fight, we were able to start the process with 18 bodies that we carried over to the new camp and gave them their last rights. Some of the people were happy that they were able to bury their loved ones. I hope that in the days to come, we can find the remainders of all those that we have not collected thus far and give them their last rights. Then we can head back to the Thunderhoof tribe so that these people will be safe and protected. There was trouble to come, and the khazari weren’t going away, not until we put an end to them. Aether after carefully digging around the device in the ground, was able to fully retrieve what we all saw. This machine of some sort was lodged deep into the earth giving the reason why it was so tough to move. When we touch it, it feels like our brains are being scrambled like eggs. We must figure out what this device is for and quick. The Khazari are fast and deadly and they may be looking for it.

S02E14: Steelhawk International – ““The First Spark”” (Camp Karakorum)

Watcher: Desmond Von Draven
1. Tanlin
2.Erabor
3. Melkial
4. Ba’lakor
5. Elland
6. Sister Flux
6. Rukus Kegstone
Yesterday was not an easy day. My first mission as a Steelhawk and even though the veterans will say that the mission was an easier one, the palpable tension in the air was quite nerve wracking for me. It was essentially a diplomatic mission where we were trying to form relations between the Thunderhooves and the werewolf clan. I felt like I was walking on eggshells and one wrong move by us might lead to a confrontation. But with the leadership of Batu and after a splendid game of Siege Ball with the werewolves I think we were able to show the prowess of the Steelhawks and build bonds. Waking up today to birds chirping and the smell of fresh food, I was ready for whatever the day had in store for us. Tanlin made some calming green tea and being the leader that he is, had some choice words for the group, "Let's just be the wholesome people that we are and be all that we can be." Keeping those words in mind, we walked out following Rukus' lead who bee lined straight for the breakfast table, "Can't do nothing with an empty stomach." Sadly before we could eat, we were interrupted by Batgan, Batu's trainer. He had an breakfast invite from Batu himself for us. Man the doughnut holes at the table were so tempting. But we were here to improve relations and accepting the new leader's invite was natural. Leaving that place became more of a priority for me when Tanlin tried to hug the werewolf chief and was denied. Oh my God! I wanted to bury myself from the second hand embarrassment. We entered Batu's yurt. Inside it was cozy and had quite the homey feel. Looked like all of Batu's inner circle members were there. There was also someone I hadn't seen the previous day. I learnt that she was one of the previous chief's daughter, Narin. Her mother, Batu's aunt, was previously murdered on Batu's grandfather's order. Despite being known as a pacifist, she took on the mantle of chief to avenge Chief Sara, her mother. Batu was happy to see us. Welcoming and asking us to join them for breakfast. The food was excellent and the conversation was lively. Midway through the meal, Batu spoke, "You guys have always been behind me and without you none of this would have been possible", he said to every one of his inner circle. To us Steelhawks, he thanked us for all our help and asked, "What do you miss about home?" That question stunned me for a second and as luck would have it, he was directly looking at me. Was there anything left back home? I am pretty sure they took everything I owned. Having no answer, I just said I relished the opportunity to earn money and did not miss much. Rukus went next, his family is what he misses the most. But he said he keeps going knowing he is learning valuable life lessons, something he will share with his family once he returns. Tanlin remembered the morning hustle and bustle in his village before it burned down. Elland yearned for the smell of fresh bread from his neighborhood bakery near his childhood home. Sister Flux just said she missed being in the darkness and thought there was too much light and Belakor just wanted to forget his past and help the Steelhawks. Narin answered Batu's question as well, "I miss my mother and what we had. But I am here to fight for what we have." The inner circle: Batu, Tuuraan, Jargal, Khulan, Khaliun, Narin The old spiritual leader, Tuuraan suddenly said something ominous, "The winds of fate don’t seem to be blowing today almost as if they have stopped." Wow. That brought the mood down. I looked around to see if anyone else understood any of that. But something else caught my eye. I noticed some strange supernatural energy around Batu. I didn’t get any bad vibes from it, rather it made him look like the chosen one. The man had Aura! I was brought out of my reverie when in came running a bloodied, near dead man. He was in military gear carrying the insignias of the Steppewind tribe. Looks like the wind has arrived, dragging in trouble with it. The only thing he said before passing out was that the Khazari had attacked the Steppewinds. I didn’t know who the Khazari were but I could sense that the mood in the room shifted dramatically, The merry atmosphere was gone and the tension was back. Elland informed that he had read reports back at the base which had information on the Khazari. I could not believe what I heard next. Apparently, Khazari are aliens known for going from planet to planet, conquering everything. Previously one of their ships had been found by the Steelhawks in the lower tear. Even more surprising was that the ship was alive. But Elland was perplexed as to why they would attack the Steppewinds. He could not decipher their motives. Whatever their motives were, we agreed this was as much of an opportunity as it was a disaster. With the overarching threat of an alien invasion, the tribes would be more open to uniting against the common enemy. Before any plans could be made, questioning the Steppewind member for the numbers, motivations and tactics of the Khazari was of top priority. In the middle of this discussion, again chimed in Tuuraan. He said he would prepare a ritual and everyone should attend before heading out. Needing thorough planning and strategizing, we started heading to the war tent. On the way, Batu asked his girlfriend to inform everyone about the situation and to also increase the threat level. Before any planning, Jargal asked everyone to pray to Torgi for guidance, even inviting us to offer any prayers or tributes we have. Rukus offered a tooth carved in dwarven runes, "To defend and to fight". Tanlin also offered a prayer, “Blessed be the dawn, Torgi, may Lathander’s light guide your spirit. Wherever you stride, may each step bloom with renewal. In your courage, we find our morning. In your memory, we find our hope. By the grace of the Morninglord, walk in light eternal.” After that, The Steppewind tribe member was brought in. He looked better but his face portrayed how dire the situation was. He introduced himself as Tömörjin and informed us about what happened, "The Steppewind camp is dead. The skies tore open and strange metal beasts emerged from clouds of ash. Our weapons couldn’t pierce their armor. The strongest warriors fell like wheat. They took no prisoners. My family, my village, everything is gone." Stunned silence. After his recounting of the incident it was almost as if the air was sucked out of the room. Batu looked horrified. He shared how the Khazari attacked once before during the battle against the Behemoth brotherhood. The destruction they caused that day was unmatched. Elland wanted to know if any of the Steppewinds had survived, where they would have retreated to. Tömörjin was not hopeful but if any one survived, they would have retreated to camp Dreadrock. Going back to the attack site as a rescue mission and gathering all the evidence we could was of utmost priority. Also going to camp Dreadrock and other camps to inform and recruit members was on the agenda. With the missions set Batu asked us to leave with urgency after attending Tuuran's ritual. The party went to the magic shop and the blacksmith's to arm themselves and the bathhouse for a quick bath before attending the ritual. Finally, we went to Turran's yurt where he had prepared the ritual. "The time has come to see what only the spirit can reveal.", he said. One by one, he went to each member offering words of advice and asking us to drink from a bowl. When it was my turn, he thought I had the potential to be a leader, saying he saw something in me. While drinking the tea, I wondered what he saw in me. My mind started wandering and I suddenly felt it getting darker. Panic started setting in had the old man roofied us?!! Next thing I know I was floating through a vast sky dotted with luminous constellations. It felt as if gravity had become a suggestion. I started seeing giant whales floating around me, my memories long forgotten, civilizations unknown and reality unfolding. The old man had definitely drugged us. Thankfully I was not alone and my party was with me. No one knew what was happening. The constellations in the sky were different than ours. We figured out that we were in the Astral sea. I noticed a silver cord attached to me. These cords tethered our spirits to our bodies in the material plane. If this cord ever gets cut, we'll be lost forever. Slowly the scenery changed, I started seeing visions. Visions of armored aliens fighting what looked like Khanarian warriors. The scene shifted again, I saw the Behemoth brotherhood's last stand. Their faces marred with terror as they were eradicated by the Khazari. Then I saw a colossal Khazari watching as a battalion of dreadships destroyed an unknown world with weapons of mass destruction. All of us instinctually learnt one thing, the Khazari do not invade. They come to harvest and leave ashes behind. The visions stopped and we were back in the Astral sea. We thought that these might have been visions from the past serving as warnings for the future. Before we could make complete heads and tails of the situation, portals started opening and out walked a Khazari squad. Immediately shit hit the fan. Astral Sea. Visions One of the Tough guys rushed towards us, swinging his giant warhammer, sending Tanlin flying. I saw blood pouring out from Tanlin's wounds. In retaliation, he called for his spirits(spirit guardians) to aid him in battle. Light surrounded him as the spirits answered his call. Astonishingly, the tough guy shrugged them off without any issue(Nat 20). Sister Flux seeing things turning Blessed Belakor, herself and me. Rukus charged forward in blinding rage piercing the second tough guy with his pike, sending them flying. Elland sent an arrow flying towards the foe Rukus hit. Annoyed by the spirits, the Khazari fanatic dispelled the spell, sending them back home. Be'lakor called forth lightning, sending a witch bolt flying to the initial tough guy. The scouts started shooting my friends and closing in. Tanlin took the brunt of it. I knew I had to help my friend. I tried to rush towards him, but I felt sluggish in this weird plane. I missed my swing and to my horror the tough guy just ignored me and went for Tanlin rendering him unconscious Tanlin was down. Sister Flux and I had to come up with strategy to heal him. If we don’t get him out of there, he will die surrounded by 3 enemies. Sister Flux conjured her sacred flame on the nearest tough guy and healed Tanlin with a healing word. Rukus flew in trying to spartan kick the tough guy he was fighting but they weaved out of the way. But they couldn’t dodge the giant maul to the face which Rukus followed up with. Finding a gap in their defence, Elland sent another arrow flying but these guy were not affected at all by the astral plane and they caught the arrow. The fanatic cast hypnotic pattern, incapacitating Sister Flux and Belakor. A scout shot at Elland and started closing in. Another scout and tough guy started ganging up on Rukus. I broke Belakor out of his stupor and healed Tanlin before closing in to hopefully distract the tough guy. My plan worked and the tough guy unleashed on me. Honestly it wasn't a great plan as I got the wind knocked out of me. Tanlin again called his spirits and this time it worked. Three of the enemies were affected. Rukus started using all his martial prowess to take down the tough guys. Elland woke up sister Flux. The fanatic unleashed a fireball on the backline, covering Belakor, Sister Flux and Elland. Belakor unfazed by the fire rushed the tough guy and disected him with his greatsword. In response, a scout started slicing at him. Final scout closed in on Sister Flux but she tanked everything like a champ. I closed in on the tough guy calling forth my flames to smite him down. In response, he swung his warhammer sending me flying. Tanlin healed all of us with his mass healing word. Sister Flux invoked her spiritual weapon and swung it at the tough guy who ducked under it. Taking advantage, Rukus stabbed a scout with a pike sending him into the tough guy and tried to cleave both of them with his axe. But both dodged again. Elland let another shot flying blowing the tough guy's head straight off. The fanatic paralyzed Belakor with a hold person and the scout immediately followed up by obliterating him. But this left the scout's back exposed, I rushed in and decapitated him. Tanlin again used mass healing word and moved to have his spirits attack the fanatic. Sister Flux channeled divinity through herself and made Belakor as good as new. Rukus floated towards the final scout who was hounding Sister Flux flinging handaxes at him. Elland shot the scout again. The Fanatic unleashed another fireball at us. The scout shot back at Elland. Hoping to finish him off, I unleashed my eldritch blasts at him. Tanlin healed me up with a healing word. Sis Flux unleashed her spiritual weapon at the fanatic who tanked it like nothing even dodging her sacred flame. Rukus finished off the final scout with his greataxe. Elland shot the fanatic in the shoulder, who unleashed yet another fireball at all of us and started running. Belakor unleashed his eldritch blasts at him and I misty stepped and swung at his head. This plane making it really tough for us to fight normally and he dodged all of it. Tanlin called for Lathander and commanded the fanatic to kneel. Sister Flux invoked her divinity again to heal the party. Elland lets loose another arrow, missing but belakor closing in, ended it with a stab of his greatsword. We did it. We were victorious. Our reward? A freaking fracture in space opened up and sucked us in. We were back in Tuuran's yurt. Fucking hell man, a little warning would have been helpful. He asked us if we learnt the motives of the Khazari. We told him of all the ominous premonitions we saw. They had come to harvest and would only leave after taking everything. We need a lot of help. He sayed Torgi will guide us through this calamity. Apparently Batu is just the beginning, one of many to come. "He is the first spark. First of Torgi's blessed warriors. Torgi is imparting Batu with gifts slowly. He will soon manifest divine armaments to wield. The blessed ones will lead the coming battle. We won't be helpless. We won't give up." That is what he said. I don’t know if this prophecy will come true. All I know is that a war is coming. Please treat this report as a warning for what is to come. We need to send more reinforcements to the Tear. We have to find Torgi's blessed warriors and stand with them to repel the Khazari. If we fail, the Khazari would leave only ashes and dust behind and the Karagatan we know and love would be no more.

S02E13: Steelhawk International – “Not All That Is Lost is Lost” (Camp Karakorum)

Watcher: Desmond Von Draven
1. Munster – Level 7 Barbarian
2.Neria – Level 6 Rogue/Warlock
3. Desmond Von Draven – Level 5 Monk/Warlock
4. Naeva Wilhelmina – Level 6 Druid
5. Gideon – Level 4 Wizard
6. Erabor – Level 4 Warlock
Character Notes: • Munster is a two-foot-tall mouse wielding a shield and fork. He fights fiercely—stabbing and throwing his fork with wild enthusiasm—and is always eager for fun. He also has a bird companion named Pterry the Pteranodon. • Erabor is a former merchant whose business went bankrupt. He’s looking for a fresh start. • Neria trained as a spy and is mourning the loss of a dear friend. She is adamant about her independence from demonic influences. She has a cat named Saige. • Naeva is a noble by birth who left that life to find her own path with the Steelhawks. Quiet and thoughtful, she prefers to talk before fighting and has a strong affinity for animals. • Gideon is fascinated by fire and lightning magic. He’s ambitious and wants to master these volatile forces. • Desmond Von Draven (myself) introduced myself to the group and shared a bit of my past. We arrived at Camp Karakorum last night and had a restful sleep in a surprisingly comfortable tent. The bedding was nicer than expected. This is a new and very different place from Mayarisa, and I welcome the change. I’ve longed to see more of the world. The morning greeted us with music and an inviting ambiance. The yurt swayed slightly with the breeze, well-crafted and sturdy. Naeva suggested we explore the camp and speak with the locals, which I agreed with. Munster, however, was not quite ready to rise. From the murmurs of the tribe, I sensed mixed feelings—curiosity and caution in equal measure. Outside, the camp was beautiful. The smells of food, the central fire, and the large communal tables created a vibrant scene. Naeva recommended we seek out information and perhaps find the magic shop Gideon was interested in. We noticed Batu’s tribe wore yellow and white, striking colors that gave them a distinct presence—possibly indicating a military role. I chose to approach the central fire while others went to speak at the table. Batu’s people surrounded the fire, and from their conversations, I learned of deep-seated trauma: three or four generations ago, a sickness led the werewolves into a violent rampage. That historical wound still influences their collective psyche. Erabor and I had a brief but thought-provoking discussion about our impressions of the surrounding tribes—oddly fitting, given he was standing practically in the fire during it. The group returned from the table, sharing information about a local game we’d be participating in to promote unity amongst the tribes. It sounds rather promising. We then visited a tent with magical items and properties owned by an elder woman of the tribe. The shop was beautifully decorated. Munster managed to haggle with this older woman there, earning himself both items and a kiss on the cheek. She whispered something to him, and from that point on, he was referred to as “Darling, The big cheese.” Next, we visited the blacksmith—a serious man, deeply focused on his craft. Initially unreceptive to bargaining, he changed his tone when gold was mentioned. He returned with an exquisite set of purple and silver mithril armor for Naeva. With shopping complete, we made our way to the ball field. Gideon found a scroll outlining the rules of the game and read them aloud. We worked out a basic strategy. Some of the Steelhawks placed bets. I hesitated—tempted, but ultimately decided to place trust in my team. I’m working toward personal goals. Still, 200 gold for trust in my team? Seems like it will pay off in the end. Then came the match. Hours of fierce competition—hit after hit, spell after spell. We bled, we fought, we strategized. I endured multiple magical and physical attacks. I was stunned, knocked prone, and missed a crucial shot that could’ve secured us the win. For the first time since joining the Steelhawks, I felt… rather useless. But even though the match ended in a draw, I believe we gained something far more valuable: momentum toward peace. As the game concluded, I cast Prestidigitation to clean the dirt and blood from my clothes. I walked off the field with my head held high, proud of my Steelhawk family. (edited)

S02E12 – Steelhawk International: Return of the Vow-Bound (Camp Karakorum)

Watcher: Ida
1. L6 Cleric Maebe knott
2.L4 Wizard Vexal
3. L6 Rogue Ida Grace
4. L5 Druid Reena
5. L7 Barbarian Rukus Kegstone
6. L4 Sorcerer Ormegin

Ida’s POV Oh boy, that night was a total rollercoaster! I mean, one minute we were sitting around the campfire, feeling all cozy, and the next? Whispers! Haunting, creepy whispers that sounded like kids just lurking in the dark! Reena, bless her heart, alerted us, and I crouched down like I was playing hide-and-seek, trying to make my not-so-svelte backside less of a target with what you'd call "The left cheek sneak". Seriously, it felt more like a liability than a source of humor! Then BAM! The Leucrotta charged in like they owned the place, kicking like they were auditioning for a rodeo! I was not prepared for that! And let’s not even talk about the Catoblepas. Ugh, I can still picture that ugly mug—it sent shivers right down my spine! My adrenaline was pumping, and I fought like a total warrior to protect my pals. We managed to come out on top, but honestly, the victory felt a bit… empty? The horrors of that night were still buzzing around in my head, a constant reminder that danger was always lurking. And there was Batu, our new Chief, looking all burdened and uncertain. I could practically hear his thoughts: “Will they accept me? Am I good enough?” Poor guy! I wished I could just sprinkle some confidence fairy dust on him, but I knew that doubt was clinging to him like a stubborn shadow. As we made our way over the rocky path, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. My instincts were on high alert, and I was glancing everywhere, half-expecting those creepy whispers to come back! Suddenly, someone shouted about riders ahead! Oh, the excitement! We sent half the group ahead to chat with them, and I could feel the tension building. When we finally got the call to move forward, my heart was racing! They handed Batu a scroll, and the atmosphere shifted. It was sealed in black-red wax, marked with three scorched lines—the mark of the Broken Flame. My stomach dropped! “Batu, Blood-of-My-Blood.
Once, I cradled you in the shadow of the Great Yurt. I told you the names of our dead —
not so you would honor them, but so you would carry them.
Now you drag them behind you like broken carts, leaving blood in the dust and calling it destiny.
You ride beneath stolen banners.
You wear the words of the steppe like costume — loose, loud, and without weight.
I taught you how to wait.
I taught you what it means when a fire burns with no smoke.
I taught you silence.
But now I speak, because silence is no longer strong enough. And so I send this warning not in love, nor in pity — but in fire
If you ride east, you ride into hell on Karagatan.
If you cross the Red Spine, the wind will strip your name from the earth.
If I see your banner, I will burn the dye and brand the cloth.
If you speak my name in council, your voice will be cut.
If I find you near the old wells, I will salt the ground where you stood.
If you call yourself Khan again, your tongue will be nailed to the Tree of Crows.
If you enter council under my sky, your shadow will not follow you out.
My riders carry no reply.
Speak to them and they will say nothing. Touch them, and they will return your hand in a bag.
I do not write again.
I do not warn twice.
You carry my name in your blood — but not on your back.
And that is where I strike now.”
When he finally finished reading, silence blanketed us like a damp towel. It was intense! I mean, how were we supposed to process all that? The weight of the Broken Flame’s warning was hanging over us like a storm cloud, and I couldn’t help but notice the flickers of uncertainty in Batu’s eyes. He was dealing with a legacy he never asked for, and it showed.
Finally, we reached Camp Karakorum, and I thought, “Ah, relief!” But nope! The moment we stepped in, the vibe shifted. The noise of celebration clashed with the uneasy knot forming in my stomach. Batu got a warm welcome, but I couldn't help but notice the sidelong glances and whispers swirling around. Some people were smiling, sure, but there was something simmering beneath the surface. The night was filled with laughter, but I felt that current of conflict threatening to bubble up! As I stood among my friends, I promised myself to stay alert—because who knew what chaos awaited us? And just like that, we made our way to bed, exhausted but buzzing with the wild ride of the day.
——END REPORT——

S02E11 – Steelhawk International: The Breath of Judgment (Mooongrave Hollow)

Watcher: Farin
1. L11 Champion Hollow @|P0| DM Boku
2. L9 Monk Dash SDM | Aviator
3. L8 Cleric Druid Cindella BobRob
4. L9 Bard Jebediah DM iFAIL
5. L10 Fghter Farin SDM | Coach 6. L8 paladin, Frakas Kegstone Xisle

Where fire remembers, and the forest watches.

They led us through the forest like ghosts from an older age—silent, precise, and unafraid. We weren’t bound or disarmed. That, more than anything, showed their confidence. Their power wasn’t in weapons or numbers. It was in memory. Dash walked at the front, our leader. Measured and steady, his presence kept us grounded. He didn’t speak much, but his leadership was clear. His every movement said: we endure together. As we moved, the forest changed. Trees bent at unnatural angles. Roots coiled beneath our feet like serpents. Even the air resisted us. This forest was alive—and it was watching. Then we arrived. The village rose from the clearing like a vision. No one gasped. No alarms. A roaring fire burned in a large pit at the center, its flames crackling sideways, lighting up faces that had clearly been waiting for us.

They led us to tents of our own. No locks. No warnings. Just separation.

The mystic appeared then, cloaked in layers of smoke-colored cloth. She stood by the fire like a statue carved from fog. She didn’t speak until she looked directly at Hollow—our bruiser, our wild card. He exhaled, cracked his neck, and gripped his glaive. He didn’t deal in magic or deception. Just raw strength. Inside her tent, Cinderella felt a strange unease. Windless chimes rang near her ear, the sound not coming from outside, but from somewhere else. Night fell.

We sat around scattered fires. The villagers joined us. They held no warmth, no hostility. Just eyes that had seen too much. Cinderella spoke first—her story full of sorrow, pride, and hope. Some villagers listened. Not all believed. Hollow paced nearby, arms crossed. “They’ve already judged us,” he muttered. Then the moon rose, and it was red. Frakas stepped forward, wide-eyed. “When the moon is red… shifters can change without limit.” The villagers didn’t react. That was the confirmation. Jeremiah drank a thick, black liquid they offered—ancient, bitter. He staggered, then steadied as Dash placed a silent hand on his shoulder. Batu stood, then turned to Dash. “Let me speak.” “You won’t speak alone,” Dash replied. The flames surged. From the darkness, wolves emerged. Dozens of them, quiet and circling.

The chieftain spoke. “You are trespassers. But the Hollow remembers.” Before we could respond, a new wind swept in—cold and aware. Whispers came from the sky, the ground, the fire. “Restore what was broken... or vanish like those before you.” Cinderella rose and spoke of redemption and purpose. Dash followed. “We came not to take, but to repair. Test us if you must.” The blue fire flared. “Prepare yourselves.”

The ground split open. From below, four forms emerged—Elemental echoes of earth, fire, air, and water. There was no time to react. Farin charged first, sword gleaming, armor shining with resolve—then vanished in a flash of shimmering blue. “Farin!” Dash called out, searching. But he was gone—banished by ancient magic woven into the trial. Jebediah remained calm. He moved with precision, binding the Tideborn in spectral coils, shielding us from the Skyclaw with psychic barriers. His control bought us seconds. Then Hollow snapped. A Flamewraith scorched his shoulder, and he exploded into action. He smashed the earth elemental’s knee and leapt through smoke and fire, colliding midair with the air elemental. He became a blur of steel and rage—no magic, no tactics. Just fury. “Get BACK!” he shouted, not to anyone in particular. “I’ve got this!” But it wasn’t control. It was chaos. His rage gave him power—but nearly got him killed. Still, we endured. When it ended, the elementals lay broken. The trial was over. Farin hadn’t returned.

The villagers approached. The wolves sat still. The flames burned low. The chieftain said, “Your debt is paid.” But their eyes lingered—on Dash, on Hollow, on all of us. We had survived. Barely. And as the red moon glared down, we realized something: The Hollow remembers. And now… so do we.

S02E10 – Steelhawk International: “The Hollow Remembers” (Moongrave Hollow)

Filed by: Jebediah Well, well, well. Another day, another disaster narrowly avoided by sheer charm, glittering intellect, and the unwavering incompetence of my companions. This time, we ventured into Moongrave Hollow, a place where the mist hangs heavier than Farin’s armor and the wolves carry grudges longer than Hollow’s war speeches. Let’s start with the babysitting lineup: Hollow – Thinks he’s some kind of forest messiah. Stares dramatically into the middle distance and makes decisions like he’s in a play. Believes he can solo the gods with enough glowering. Delusional. Farin – Gallant. Brave. Dumber than a bag of hammers in a wind tunnel. He’s like a golden retriever that found a sword. Pnymysis – If names were punishments, his parents were cruel jailors. Chiun – Spry for a human, older than most mold. Surprisingly hard to dislike. I’m working on it. Cindella – Literal angel. If she wasn’t here, I would’ve left these yahoos to rot in the Hollow’s gullet long ago. So. We make camp, couple of us do a little forest cleaning (because if we don’t, who will?), and the others poke at mushrooms and pretend it’s important. Then, Pnymysis stumbles across some tracks heading north—possibly werewolfy in nature. Off we march! We see more tracks, erratic ones, like someone was either panicked, rushing, or being chased by the weight of poor decisions. The debate begins: “Do we wait or wander?” Pnymysis and I vote to camp and wait for these wolf-folk to find us—like polite guests. But nooooo. Hollow decides we keep going until we find their doorstep and THEN try to chat. Nothing like barging in to say, “Hello, we mean no harm!” Soon enough, the trail turns into a canyon, cliffs towering over us like judgmental librarians. I send Batsy (my beloved oversized bat, if you must know) up to keep an eye on the ridges. Good thing too. Voices start echoing. Whispering. Watching. And then—BAM! Werewolves all around! One steps forward, full of attitude, says, “You came to speak, we came to listen, now we’re done listening.” Rude, right? Battle starts. They call us murderers, which, for once, wasn’t even my fault. Things went south faster than Farin on a bad horse. Hollow’s flailing blade was flying (and to his credit, kinda effective). Pnymysis decided he was a juggernaut—charged the biggest brute and promptly got floored. Chiun zipped down to play battlefield medic. Farin, radiant dunderhead that he is, riding his glowy steed charged in heroically, patching Pnymysis up. Pnymysis responded by running in weird zig-zags like a confused goose. Cindella? She floated like poetry and kept Hollow from becoming a decorative smear. Me? I’m busy weaving defense spells, praying I don’t get turned into wolf chow. Then—bam! Big brute closes in on me. Pnymysis tries to block him—adorable effort—but the wolf ignores him and clobbers me like I insulted his mother’s soup. Hollow and Farin manage to drop one of them. Progress! Then—bam!—I’m down again. Chiun scrapes me off the dirt just in time for me to get dragged away like an inconvenient parcel. I decided, quite wisely, to play dead. Let them take me. Strategy, not cowardice, mind you. Then I blow my own cover by healing everyone with a spell. Whoopsie. Meanwhile, Farin, either fueled by divine wrath or severe head trauma, charges the big guy again. Real hero stuff. Chiun and Hollow start beating up my captor, who—let’s be honest—wasn’t unattractive. Sharp teeth, sure, but I’ve seen worse in taverns. Cindella? Bless her twinkly feet—dodged everything, dished out some healing, and looked graceful as ever. Eventually, momentum shifts. We drop the wolves one by one. The big brute, Gravec, puts up a fight, but— Finally, just as we think we’re gaining ground— The fog thickens. Shapes form. And the Hollow… speaks. Four figures made of wind, fog, and fury stepped into view. Voices like thunder rolled over us. The whole forest fell silent. Then, they spoke: “You have entered sacred ground. You were given a chance. You drew blood. You have broken what was whole.” “You have shed the blood of the vow-bound. You have wounded the Hollow. The land will not forgive so easily.” “There is no hope for what comes next, only judgment.” “From this moment forward, you will walk under the Hollow’s gaze. You will not find mercy. You will not find rest.” It was the first time since meeting this crew that even Hollow looked uncertain. They closed in on us. One stalked toward Cindella—targeted, angry. Tension peaked. Pnymysis, to his credit, dropped his weapon and suggested surrender. Shockingly, it worked. I revived one of the werewolves in a desperate attempt to prove we weren’t complete savages. The enemy backed off. Everyone stood down… except Hollow, who chose that moment to run up a cliff wall like an angry goat. The rest of us are gathered, silent and soggy with shame. Gravec the big wolfman says, “No more harm will fall upon you between here and there.” So now, we’re in a lush, cozy camp… which could either be a waiting room or a moss-lined execution chamber. Depends on their idea of justice. And that, dear reader, was how I nearly got abducted, flattened, healed, flattened again, and possibly conscripted into a werewolf tribunal all in one day.

S02E09 – Steelhawk International: “The Sins of the Steppes” (Moongrave Hollow)

Watcher: Naelen
1. L10 fighter Hollow
2. L8 Cluid Cindella
3. L8 druid Chorkva
4. L9 rogue Roulette
5. L8 Bard Jebediah 6. L9 Naelen Shadowstrike "After that brawl with Lorkvold’s men, we looked like we’d lost a bar fight with a mountain lion. Rest would’ve been smart—hell, it would’ve been nice—but none of us could shake the feeling that something worse was waiting just behind the next tree. So we decided to keep moving. Bruised, bleeding, and barely upright... but moving.

The mission hadn't changed: reach the Khanarians, extend a hand, and hope it doesn’t get bitten off. We rode east, still alongside Chief Batu. He didn’t say much—focused, steady. The kind of presence that doesn’t need words to carry weight. Hollow handled navigation, flipping open his tools like they were a sacred ritual. Gotta admit, he’s damn precise. You could drop him blindfolded in a storm and he’d still find north before his boots hit the ground.

After about three hours of bone-rattling travel, we finally saw it—Moongrave Hollow. A crater the size of a forgotten god’s footprint. The air changed when we reached it—heavy, still. Like the land itself was holding its breath.

Romantic name, I know. But if you’re picturing moonlight and mystery, think again. It looked more like something had taken a bite out of the world… and hadn’t finished chewing." We hit the edge of Moongrave Hollow just as the light started to fade, and let me tell you—seeing it from above? It shut everybody up.

Sheer cliffs on both sides, trees packed so tight it looked like the forest was trying to keep something in, not out. And the mist—gods, the mist. It didn’t drift like normal fog. It coiled, like it had purpose. Like it was watching. I’ve seen illusions with less drama. You ever stare down into a place and feel it stare back? That was Moongrave Hollow. No one said it, but we all felt it—that weight in the chest, the silence that wasn’t quite silent. We’d reached the next step of the mission, yeah... but something told me the Hollow didn’t care much for diplomacy.” “Now, here’s where things got interesting—and by interesting, I mean ‘how in the Nine Hells are we supposed to get down that?’

Moongrave Hollow didn’t come with stairs, or paths, or conveniently placed divine escalators. Just sheer, jagged cliffs with a bad attitude and not a single handhold in sight. No roads, no bridges, no ‘Welcome Adventurers’ landing pad. Just a drop. A very long drop. Roulette, ever the clever one, whipped out some gizmo that pinged the depth. Over 300 feet. I don’t know how it worked, and frankly, I’m afraid to ask. But I trust her math more than I trust the ground beneath my boots. Jumping? Not unless we suddenly decided splattering was a valid tactic. And speaking of splattering—oh, you’re gonna love this bit. We’re all squinting over the edge, trying to figure out how not to die, when something screeches overhead. We look up and—swear on my blades—a goat comes sailing down from the sky. Not falling. Yeeted. Screaming. Like some cosmic joke with hooves. It hits the ground next to us like a sack of regret, and boom—goat guts everywhere. The stench alone nearly killed Jebediah, and he once survived eating a mushroom that made him speak only in rhymes for two days. We glance up and see this massive flying creature—wings like sails, claws like nightmares—circling above, then banking away like it just realized we weren’t worth the effort. Dropped its dinner and bounced. Hopefully by accident. Hopefully. Anyway, back to the whole ‘how do we not die’ thing. At first, we tried to think of a way to bring the horses. Noble beasts, really. But unless we were about to invent horse-parachutes, there was no way. So Jebediah does the kindest thing—casts Speak with Animals and sends them off. Told them to be free, live their best lives, and preferably avoid cliffs. As for us? We split the descent like a circus troupe on deadline. "I rode down with Chorkva on that giant bat of his. Not the most dignified ride I’ve had, but it beat becoming canyon jam. Roulette, being made of sheer gall and grace, climbed down the face of the cliff like it was a dance floor. Made it look easy. Jebediah waited up top for Chorkva to come back for him. Then came Cindella. Full plate armor. She might as well have been wearing an anvil. The bat took one look at her and said nope—politely, but firmly. Luckily, Hollow (the person, not the place—keep up) and Roulette had enough rope between them to make a 200-foot drop viable. So Hollow, ever the strong and not so silent type, helped lower Cindella down to a ledge halfway into the canyon. Somehow, miraculously, there was actually a flat spot down there. Don't ask me how the geometry works—I just stab things. Once she was secure, Hollow climbed down after her, and Chorkva flew back up to untie the rope and do the final round of pickup. Eventually, we all made it—battered, sweaty, smelling like goat spleen—but alive. Moongrave Hollow wasn’t going to make this easy. And something told me that was just its welcome party.”

“So. We’re finally at the bottom of Moongrave Hollow. The climb’s behind us, our muscles feel like overcooked noodles, and no one knows which direction the werewolves are—just that they’re out there, somewhere. Probably watching us already. Typical. That’s when Jebediah steps forward. Cool as ever, he pulls out his flute and works a little bardic charm. Calls out to the local rats like he’s hosting a forest conference. Sure enough, a few show up—whiskers twitching, eyes shining with whatever passes for rodent wisdom. He asks them the big question: ‘Any werewolves nearby?’ They point us north. Simple as that.

So we move. Quietly. Cautiously. I hung back a bit, used a mix of mage tricks and good ol’ wilderness know-how to wipe our tracks clean. No footprints, no broken twigs, not even a loose bit of dung. If Lorkvold’s men were trying to follow, they’d be chasing shadows. But eventually, it catches up to you. The fatigue. The tension. The fact we hadn’t really stopped since the last fight. So we found a patch of ground that didn’t scream ‘ambush waiting to happen’ and set up camp. Watches were split. Everyone took their turn.

First up: Roulette. Nothing stirred. Second: Jebediah. Still quiet. Then came mine." "And that’s when the Hollow… noticed us. At first, just a shift in the air. Heavy. Still. Like the whole forest paused mid-breath. Then, beneath the roots of a gnarled old tree, I saw them—mushrooms, rising from the dirt in a perfect ring. Not your average fungus, either. These things pulsed, glowed in shades of violet and electric blue. Beautiful, eerie, wrong. They shimmered. Whispered, almost. Then came the hum—deep, bone-low, like the ground itself was growling. Moongrave Hollow was awake. And something didn’t like us being there.

Next thing I know, we’re swarmed. Quicklings—blurs of motion, faster than thought, meaner than regret—darted through the trees. Then came the vine-creatures, all thorns and hunger, dragging themselves out of the underbrush like they’d just been waiting for an excuse. I kicked everyone awake, steel drawn before my boots even hit the dirt. It was chaos. Glowing mushrooms popping like arcane traps. The forest twisting with motion. It felt like the Hollow had hands. But we held our ground. Blades, magic, grit—Steelhawks style. Not one of us went down. Not this time. And after it all… silence. Real silence. The kind that tells you—for now—you’re safe. We took our rest at last, bruised but breathing. And in the morning? We keep going north. Toward the Khanarians. Toward their decision. Peace… or something bloodier. Will they listen? Will Batu be accepted as their chief? Guess we’ll find out soon enough. And if we don’t… well, I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve.” End of report

S02E09 – Steelhawk International: “The Sins of the Steppes” (Moongrave Hollow)

Supplemental report Operative: Roulette Diyods Team: Steelhawks (Cindella, Naelen, Hollow, Chorkva, Jebediah, Roulette) Location: Moongrave Hollow, along the Upper Tear Objective: Contact the exiled Khanarion werewolves; establish peaceful intentions on behalf of Batu (and by doing so, augment his chances of becoming recognized Chief of the Khanarions) Batu, our ally and rising contender for leadership among the Khanarions, sent us on a diplomatic mission. Our destination: the Upper Tear, near the cliff’s edge, where the exiled Khanarions-turned-werewolves roam. Why diplomacy now? Because Batu wants peace—he sees the werewolves not as monsters, but as Khanarions still, cursed, yes, but still kin. There’s just one problem: Cindella killed a bunch of them. We didn’t know what they were at the time. She was doing what she thought was right. Doesn’t mean this isn’t going to get awkward fast, but the mission lies before us, and peace and prosperity for us and our allies is always a reasonable goal to pursue. We traveled the grasslands for a long stretch, heading for the gigantic cliff that cuts the upper from lower regions. We saw a giant roc overhead, but it thought better of attacking us... well, beyond dropping a goat carcass at us. I mean, birds, amirite?

Anyway, when I say gigantic cliff, I mean a 300+ foot drop- so far down I had to set up a sun-stick, extrapolate distances... never mind, just bein' the nerdy girl I am sometimes. Our horses, though... they call them the Thunderhooves for a reason-- they gallop like mad, rolling across the plains, but they sure as what they drop behind them aren't built for cliff work. Jebediah used some bardic magic to speak to the horses, calmed them down, and sent them back with our thanks, to return to the Khanarions. I always worry about them, without us, but since the last team lost nearly all their horses to fireballs and the like at the outset of battle, maybe it's all for the best to send them back now. The 'edge' of the Upper Tear is no joke, let me tell you. I’ve climbed worse, of course; no wings, no flight magic, just rope, muscle memory, and balance. Nobody else could do that, so we had to find a solution that'd work for them all. Chorkva had their bat, which was willing to do some ferry service. For the rest, we rigged a series of ropes together, found anchor points, and slowly staged the descent. I scouted ahead and secured the midway forested shelf, about halfway down to the forested ravine below. Hollow helped Cindella, while Chorkva, Naelen and I kept an eye out for dangers. Good news, we all made it down safe. No broken bones, just a lot of adrenaline. For some folk, anyway.

Forest was beautiful- the light shining through. Was silent. Jebediah played some pipes, and some rodents answered the call... so he cast somthing to speak with them. They reported no wolf or humanoid intruders in this part, but warned that the territory was more dangerous where we were heading onwards.

Once we hit the forest and made some leagues, we were hitting our limit- that climb was tiring! Anyway, we figured we’d earned a rest. We made camp, took watches, but yanno? The woods didn’t sleep easy. We woke up to: Quicklings—tiny speed-daggers with bad attitudes A few monstrous treant-blight-like hybrid—twisted roots, poisoned breath, a rot-in-the-soul kind of thing showed up to grapple and rake us up. And, finally, some kind of Fae creatures- invisible, nasty, and probably trouble at every stretch in these woods to come. The battle was chaotic—flashes of speedy little knife-fighters, tangled roots, illusions, weird smells, confusion, and blood. Mostly ours. I pinned a quickling to a log, then vanished into the trees. Naelen struck from shadows with vicious efficiency... except when the poor darlin' got snarled in some roots and bashed to within an inch of his life. Chorkva conjured radiant moonbeam to help control the field. Hollow tanked hits like a champion- had some trouble getting his hits in up front, but he got steady later in the fight Jebediah did some heavy tanking; pretty sure he didn't want to do heavy tanking, but he got touched a lot by the invisible fae thing, and beaten back and forth. Cindella and Chorkva kept us all going, and Chorkva's moonbeam did a lot to help cook off the enemies. We finally beat them back, but something ancient lives in Moongrave Hollow. Besides werewolves. And rats. And whatever it is, it doesn’t like guests. Roulette

S02E08 – Steelhawk International: "The Lost Khanarians" (The Tear)

Watcher: Chiun
1. Fighter | Hollow (P0)DM Boku
2. L5 Monk | Chiun Dublefisten (P2)Stoney
3. Cleruid | Cindella (P0)BobRob
4. Druid | Chorkva (P1)Greatcloak
5. L7 Paladin | Pnymesis (P2)Mensius
We woke up in our tent waiting for the newly appointed Chief Batu's next orders. We are not sure exactly what we are going to do. Seems to be some thinking that we need to seek out the werewolves, yes the same werewolves that we slaughtered a while back not knowing they were possible “good guys”. Man hindsight is a bitch. While discussing this, a heated debate between Hollow and Cindella and who murdered who and why breaks out. Eventually, everyone seems to have enough of that, so we step outside the tent to clear the air, and seek out Chief Erdene

As we open the tent, it's a beautiful sight of this camp. Different folks from different strokes of life in different areas. As much as it is beautiful, we remain focused on finding Batu. As we head off to his tent, we walk around and look at all the different “hustle and bustle” just to get an eye for what is going on and again, clear our heads before meeting with the Chief. Hollow hears Batu's name in a couple conversations and calls out a kid that used it. There was a question put to him about his conversion… "Devils do exist" the kid says. “And who told you this? How do you know?” responds Hollow. “My daddy told me!” this kid responds. Ya, this kid was a waste of time lol, however, we did get lucky and someone who thinks that Chief Batu is in the bathing tent. So we head toward the bathing tent and find Chief Batu bathing with Chief Eredane whilst discussing next moves. SIDE NOTE - Does anyone else realize that these guys spend A LOT of time and resources bathing together? lol…Things that make you go hmm. Anyways Chief Batu invites us in and we all join in the nakedness of the bathing house. Chief Batu eventually asks us for some advice on what he thinks our next move is. There was a long debate about this subject. Ultimately we joked about giving them Cindella (even though I think some of us were not joking since she kinda “led” the assault on the werewolves) but decided instead to try and find something that was worthwhile to them. We talked about volunteers to join their ranks, basically sick steelhawks that might be interested in living by becoming a werewolf and using their healing ability to cure themselves. We talked about possibly curing them. Some side notes here would be: would they “want” to be healed? We would present the option if we find it timely in a conversation. We then offer to come in as a "trade partner" and see if we can't figure out what they want or need in resources. After much discussion, and advice by the steelhawks, we turn and ask Chief Eredana what he thinks? He simply says, "Chief Batu is a big boy, and he is going to make the big boy decisions." he explains as he jumps out the bath naked as hell, dresses, and then leaves the bathhouse. With Chief Eredana gone, we talk “more freely” about going to see the Werewolf people and eventually Chief Baku says, “That's it, we are going to see the werewolves, I have made up my mind.” But we still need to make a decision on how to approach our “accidentally on purpose” killing of the werewolves. In the meantime we all jump out of the bath, again naked, and Chiun pops the joke about Hollow…the tiefling… being "two" horny...ha ha. Now knowing where our path is directing us to go, we decide to head to the shops first. Everyone that needed diamonds bought some. There were some magic items, but everyone passed on the jewelery. Next was the Blacksmiths, Cindella was lucky enough they had a wand of healing, and oh boy, how lucky they did (keep reading).

Once everyone is satisfied with their gear, we head out to find the werewolves, traveling along some well known locations. We even ran across the herd of reindeer from before, when we got attacked by the dragons. As we keep a close eye out for more dragons, Hollow decides to kill one for supper and launches a firebolt at one. Although it didn't kill the creature, it did injure it and the herd scattered a bit. He eventually ran up and killed one with his halberd thanks to our fast rides of the thunderhoof horses. We then find a rocky location that will allow us to smoke the meat and preserve it. Then Hollow, with the help of Pynmises and Cindella, cooks the entire 500lbs of meat like a 5 star chef! Surprisingly it was an amazing cook job! We wake up in the morning with an uneventful night. The reindeer have come back, and they are very close now. Chiun uses his animal handling skills to approach the reindeer that got firebolted but didn't die. He heals it, and goes back to the group. After a quick breakfast, we move on. Unfortunately it seems to get darker on us as it starts to rain. A bit of a stormy day, but a good day to discuss how we are approaching the werewolves. Chiun uses his capacity for wisdom and comes up with this. Although suggested by Pnymesis already to reveal the truth of what we did, Chiun goes one step further. We need to fess up to what we have done, but try to make them understand we did this before we realized who the werewolves were, and in the heat of battle, did not realize this until after killing them all. We later find out who they actually were. We will ask for forgiveness and offer our recompense to try and make things right. We know they will be very upset, but we are hoping they will see that we did not seek out to kill these men and women, but in the end, that is what happened. We hope there is something we can do to gain their trust and their loyalty to Chief Batu. We travel for some time discussing all this and as we move across the plains, we get attacked by what appears to be Lorkvold's Men! INITIATIVE. These guys are definitely aggressive but we start first, Chorkva brings out his spirit guardians, unfortunately before he could use it very well, a wizard type dispelled it. Chiun throws a produce flame at the front line guy within range and hits. Pnymesis uses this time to buff himself as does Cindella. Hollow moves up near Pnymesis not seeing the Lorkvold's enemy near Pnymesis but makes some good ranged attacks against a further one.

We looked like we were in a good setup, but then came the casters. They had 3 of them. 1 of seemed more like an innate caster dropping this explosion of energy (fire/cold/lightning) at a whim. Another dropping cone of colds on us like it's hot not cold (drop it like it's hot). Another used spirit guardians on himself. Chiun luckily stunned him right away and he lost his spell, revenge for Chorkva losing his spirit guardians!

Either way, these guys hit ridiculously hard, and Pnymesis feels the front end of this. It goes back and forth for us this entire combat. With Pnymesis getting dropped multiple times, to making our healers do nothing but heal for a few rounds there. Chorkva got a really nice hold person in that helped a bunch, keeping 2 of the bad guys "pinned" down for a couple rounds.

Finally we gain the upper hand and are able to start dropping the bad guys, but not before Chiun finally feels the pain as well. He got dropped 50 ft or so away from the rest of the party, and poor old guy had to lay there the rest of combat (3+ rounds until he stabilized) as the rest of the group was so focused on trying to finish off this crew that they left him laying there. In the end, we take them all down and spend just a moment licking our wounds. We ended the session pretty much right away here, but we were trying to find a location to try and take a rest after this brutal encounter. Hindsight says that being short handed SUCKS, but we are steelhawks and we survived!

What comes next? Should we press on to try and find the werewolves we are looking to find? Should we track these Lorkvold's men/women's hideout? It seems they may have come out of the caves where the "disease" dragons attacked us last time. Another option is to take this time and recover, we could really use a rest. These are decisions for next time!

S02E07 – Steelhawk International: "Stormborne" (Camp Khanbayan)

Watcher: Baron von Zemo
1. L5 Sorcerer Poppo SDM | Aviator
2. L5 Cleric | Whiskey SDM | Ethan
3. L7 cleric druid Cindella BobRob
4. L5 L5 Barbarian Rurin RUSHryan
5. L7 baron von zeemo DM Boku
6. L7 warsorc crazy earl
OFFICIAL REPORT Day 4 — Thunder from the Messa I, the glorious Baron von Zemo, awaken within the soft folds of the guest yurt, accompanied by my ever-curious, occasionally competent companions: Cindella, bringer of chaos and mystery marriages Crazy Earl, whose grasp on reality is... flexible Poppo, the bird with boundary issues Whiskey, who lets children touch his fur Rurin, who shouts "dooo et" at dangerous times And of course, myself — the one and only Baron von Zemo Today marks a turning point—Batu is poised to become the chief... if no one opposes. We take the morning slowly, reintroducing ourselves with half-hearted greetings and bedhead flair. Mid-conversation, a disheveled man bursts in, declaring it is time for a bath. A bath? Bold of these commoners to assume they may cleanse the body of Baron von Zemo—but if it is tradition, I shall permit it. Let them marvel.

Outside, the camp is coming alive. We hear drums—festive, rhythmic, pulsing through the morning air. These are not drums of war, but drums of celebration. Villagers stretch vibrant fabrics across their yurts, transforming plain white domes into vivid, patchwork monuments of joy. Strange customs... but I admire the spirit. Zemo-approved. As we head to the bath yurts, we pass children playing with sticks—attempting to pick up sticks using other sticks. Primitive entertainment, yet oddly captivating.

Once inside, I disrobe—save for my mask, of course—and slip into the bath with noble grace. Cindella babbles something about being married. To whom? A mystery for the bards to ignore.

Post-soak, we are summoned to breakfast. They truly know how to treat a guest of my stature—or so I thought. The spread? Flatbread. Beef bones. Fermented milk that smells like regret. I wisely stick to the meat buns. Even royalty must make do sometimes. Of Tattoos and Tribes We admire our new tattoos, mementos of the journey: Rurin bears a World Tree Poppo, predictably, can't remember his I, of course, wear the mighty Hydra Whiskey sports a tankard of Ale Crazy Earl has somehow acquired a Mike Tyson tribute And Cindella… something vague and mysterious Batu joins us during this fine (but underwhelming) meal. Poppo has the audacity to peck at my meat buns. I nearly fireball the table. Batu clears his throat and announces: “We’ve been invited by Chief Erdene. He wants to speak with us—at Sagefire Hill.” Not here in camp. Curious. Perhaps Batu’s grandfather, the ruthless Chief Lorkborld, has ears everywhere.

We prepare to ride. As the camp buzzes with excitement, Whiskey and Rurin charm a few children. Whiskey offers them his fur. A little strange at first, but it’s all about context—his fur is soft, after all.

A woman glares at us. We move along. Cindella tries to ride with Batu. Indecent. Scandalous. But later, as my saddle chafes the royal nüsse, she adjusts it for me. I accept the aid, begrudgingly noble. A few saddles give us trouble—clearly defective craftsmanship.

The Banner of Thunder Atop Sagefire Hill, a banner flaps in the wind—Thunderhooves, marked by a jagged thunderbolt. Batu grows serious. He speaks of dethroning his grandfather. We dismount. Batu’s aides watch us closely, eyes like flint. Jargal, Batu’s father, arrives—here to witness what’s to come. Then, Erdene steps forward, the fire in his voice tempered by wisdom: “You were born with a name. Raised with a purpose. The Messa watches to see what you will become.” Batu stands tall. Erdene continues: “My nephew is indeed the chosen one. He’s proven himself. But my blessing comes with a question... and a warning.” The choice is laid bare: dominate the tribes, or unite them. Cindella speaks on Batu’s behalf, praising his vision of unity. They didn’t appreciate my advice—“Crush your enemies”—but such wisdom is often misunderstood. “One staff is heavy enough to carry,” Erdene says. “To carry two, the hands must be greater than pride, greater than glory.” Then Jargal steps forward, map in hand: “Your grandfather will not yield. You must bring him down... and I will help you do it.” He points to key locations—places to strike, to weaken the grip of Chief Lorkborld. A truth surfaces. The werewolves Cindella killed? They were once Kanarians—outcasts from the scattered tribes. Erdene urges us to bring them back, not as beasts, but as kin. I point out, truthfully, that Cindella killed some. She protests, offers justifications. The tension thickens. Erdene ends the conversation: these scattered folk are powerful—and needed. Divine Storm We head to Red Sky Messa for the naming ritual. I ascend in gaseous form, a majestic mist among mortals. The ritual is already underway.

The crowd is arranged in rings: commoners, warriors, chieftains. Cindella sneaks behind Lorkborld. Ever subtle. The naming stone is ancient—weathered and jagged. Names are etched upon it, some overlapping, some faded, some gouged out entirely. They say never to speak the names that have been crossed or carved away. I try to read them... but cannot. Tuuraan begins the ceremony, casting powders into the fire. Flames shift from green to purple to red. Moonriders bring offerings. A chant is spoken. Then, Tuuraan sings in a forgotten tongue. A chisel is drawn. Batu steps forward. His name is to be etched. But then—thunder. Darkness. A bolt of lightning slams down, cracking the stone. Batu’s name is burned into it twice, glowing molten red: Batu of the Moonriders Batu of the Thunderhooves Tuuraan nods. “The Messa remembers.” Chaos follows. Thunderhooves cry out. Some weep. Lorkborld’s name—slashed out by the lightning. Three Keshik riders surge forward, blades drawn. Batu cannot fight. We must. A hypnotic pattern flashes. My mind blanks. Darkness. Fire, Fury, and a Lifted Chief I awaken to an eldritch blast—Crazy Earl, of course. Utter madness. I respond the only way I know how: Fireball. “DOOOO ET!” Rurin yells. The spell hits everyone—Rurin, the Keshik, and unfortunately, Batu and Tuuraan. Poppo goes down. Then up. Then down again. Three times. Four, actually. I lost count after the third. Cindella takes down the troublesome wizard. The remaining Keshik riders fight hard, but in the end, we triumph. And so, we honor Chief Eltan, who fell earlier on our journey during the big fight with the goliaths “We do not bury him. We lift him. Let the ancestors know—we honor him.”

S02E06: Steelhawk International – “The Trial of Red Sky Mesa P2” (Camp Khanbayan)

Watcher: Crock
1. L4 Cleric | Elandor Eldrenthros Dr Sweetumz
2. L7 Monger | Dorfus DM iFAIL
3. L4 Rogue I Crock (Crock) Gator
4. L5 Paladin | Tucker TheFifthRace
5. L7 Cleric/Druid | Cindella BobRob
6. L7 Monk | Captain Karagatan CG | Spoon
Day 3 of the trials: The heroes gather at the campground out in the middle of the grassy plains near the constructed yurts. Tucker and Dorfus proceeded to take care of their pets that they brought along in the journey while the rest did their own thing. After chores and various other activities, they proceed to enter a private yurt with breakfast served and ready containing fermented mare milk, bread, dumplings, bones that once had goat and lamb meat attached and what appears to be popcorn but doesn’t taste like popcorn. While consuming breakfast and introductions amongst the party members in comes Batu the Chief through death proxy for the Thunderhoof Tribe (Not earned yet). Batu explains what we must do next without too much detail on what will be the next trial later in the evening. All he gives us to go on is where we must go and the trial name: “Watch of the Ancients”. Shenanigans pursued when Tucker had his hammer signed by Captain Karagaton (CK) and Cindella wanted to hold it who took a swing at Tucker, fortunately no one died. Dorfus also proceeded to attack a frog that was resting on the table in the middle of the tent. After breakfast: A man named Tuuraan enters the tent and explains what was to come before the evening, to include either a temporary or permanent tattoo of our choice or a marking from another tribe. He mentioned The God of all gods: Torgi who was to watch over the trials and other gods responsible for their tribes. Tuuraan mentioned that when ready to head over to “The Skin Tent” to get our markings. Tuuraan then left our presence leaving Batu and his champions for the trials when a messenger came from a chief that stated he was rooting for us to succeed. The Skin Tent: Leaving the yurt that we held our breakfast in some of my fellow party members had an out of body experience and remembered chasing chickens in this camp…Confused me, but I shook off my confusion. We made it to the Skin Tent to find a line of other tribal members that were also about to receive their markings. While in line I over heard Dorfus talking to Batu about flying rock people and how he hated them and wanted to kill them all…I must know more! Batu did try to console Dorfus a little bit and it seemed to work on the simple-minded goliath. We finally made it to the front of the line where CK went first, he wasn’t in there long but there were some sounds of pleasure coming from inside the tent. After CK exited the tent, Tucker proceeded inside for his markings and came out a lot quicker than CK, no pleasure sounds this time. Elandor enters the tent after Tucker, then I Crock, Dorfus, Batu and lastly Cindella who had a female also go in there with her after a few moments…not sure why…more to follow-up on. With our Tribal markings or personal tattoos complete we find our way to these six-legged horses to mount up on. Some members had issues getting onto their horse while others did not; Dorfus and I mounted just fine while Tucker asked Dorfus to assist him and Cindella got a little upset that he didn’t ask her and he reminded her that she almost took him out with his own hammer earlier in the morning, Cindella is so mischievous... Dorfus surprises me with how good he can be, but I guess that happens when you don’t have to think. After we were all mounted up, we headed out away from camp. The Grassy Plains: While riding to our destination Batu explained to us that it would take 20 minutes to get to where we had to go to first and “The Echoes of the Lineage is a preparatory spiritual rite where each participant steps forward to speak one truth aloud—something real, vulnerable, or defining. This is both a personal offering and a signal to the ancestral spirits that the speaker is ready to be seen in the Watch to come”. Cindella looked cautious and wary about what she would yell out when we got to where we were being led to. I Crock tried to give her an example of what to say by telling here what I was going to say and that was I am tired of always being angry and wanting to stab someone with my favorite daggers, but all she was doing was making me angry with her comments. The others calmed me down saying she was doing that on purpose. Batu brought up “Fraudulence”, for he didn’t feel like he deserved to be the new chief of his tribe, but with some encouragement we were able to put a smile on his face. While riding across the grassy plains Dorfus spots a collective of standing stones that had glowing markings on them. At this moment everyone started talking about what markings or tattoos the received back in the Skin Tent: Cindella some sort of Cleric Tramp-stamp though she rode with ease with her armor on, Elandor got a blue multi-pointed star on his chest, Dorfus added to his goliath tribal marking, Tucker got a heart shaped tattoo that said mom, CK got a yellow globe on his chest and I got dual crossed dagger with eyes on my back. When we finally made it to our first destination there, we saw another rock formation that formed a circle with a standing stone in the middle. The people that were already there became somber and quiet as if they were all introverted. We were then directed quietly to go one at a time and to touch each stone and yell out whatever made us happy, sad, mad, or something we wanted to change about ourselves. CK went first and standing in the middle yelled out his last name…not sure why, maybe he doesn’t like it? Elandor went next and yelled “I will never exceed my brother!”, again, I don’t know him too well or his brother and why not try to become better? Dorfus followed Elandor but didn’t walk, this goliath sprinted in the circle touching every stone and yells out “DORFUS!” … He needs help. Batu went after Dorfus repeating the same pattern as most of us have thus far and yelled out “Imposter!”. I Crock, followed Batu doing the same thing yelling out “I’m tired of always being angry!”. Cindella went after I Crock repeating the circle very slowly like she was still unsure of herself, not knowing what to say and stopping in the middle of the circle not yelling but stumbling on her words saying that she was lost. It was most unusual that she didn’t walk out of the circle but wild-shaped into a cat and sprinted out of the circle. Lastly Tucker went and repeated the same process of touching each stone and standing in the middle and with a crackling voice blurted out “It is not my fault that she died, and it is not my fault that she lived!”. Point of reference he mentioned he hates his father who is still alive and that his mother who he absolutely loves is dead. To the Red Sky Mesa: Batu seeming a little bit more ready for what is to come next leads back to our horses to make what he says should take us another 40 minutes to get to the base of the mesa. Along our travels we can see the lush green grassy field start to change into fields of brown grass then to brown reddish dirt at the base of the mesa with a small camp of yurts constructed. There was normal way to get up to the plateau of the mesa, so Elandor used his climbers kit to get to the top of the mesa and secure a rope so that we follow him up with ease. Atop of the mesa we see Tuuraan and others standing in this three-tiered standing stone mesa, somewhat looking like the circles surrounding a single stone in the very middle of the plateau. Tuuraan greets us for day 3’s ritual. Where Tuuraan is standing there being in the middle o is a stone with names carved into it consisting of tribal chief leaders from various tribes, some of the names are erased or carved out, for as Batu pointed put it “not worthy of being a chief”. Tuuraan lights a fire near the stone with the carved names and explains we must provide the flames with a sacrificial gift of any means if it has significant importance to us. Guess what happened? Dorfus just walks up to the fire and tosses into it a shiny green rock as he puts it, and the fire erupts in a massive explosion. Seriously, this guy needs someone to hold his hand, like come on dude, did you not know what you have in your bag? He managed to almost kill what turned out to be Tuuraan’s assistant. However, he managed to save her life with a healing spell and in which mad Cindella mad because apparently, she is the only one that’s allowed to heal people. So, after the explosion the fire is now glowing with different colors and sparking, the rest of us can toss in our sacrifice. Guess what CK offered? Guess? The climbers kit, like how are supposed to get down now…huh? I offered up memories that were precious to me for they made me who I was, but they all made me angry, so good riddance. Elandor didn’t have much so he asked if I could use my dagger so he could offer up his own blood, I had no issue with that, so I obliged. And If CK throwing in the climber’s kit was…ugh, exactly just ugh, Tucker tossed in his Golden Locket, which in fact was his Holy Symbol! After everyone made their sacrifice or offering to the fire Tuuraan doused the fire, turned to the stone and said a prayer of some sort, it was too quiet to hear from the distance I was at, and then told those not participating in the ritual to leave, and so they did. There was now a small handful of us standing around as one of Tuuraan’s other assistant steps forward and prepares our ritualistic dinner in preparation for what was to come. The ceremonial dinner consisted of an assortment of meats and was described as “The meal of the living”. Tuuraan then prepped after our meal a drink that if willing to participate would be served to us. The drink with a different number of ingredients was mixed into a bowl that was made of bone. We all took a drink from this chaotic concoction of a drink and as we all slowly fall into a spiritual sleep, Tuuraan says “Noone Travels Alone”, Leaving only him and his two assistants awake. Worst Dream Ever: So, there we were right, falling into this spiritualistic slumber when all we hear is: Don’t scream, don’t flinch, be still the spirits are here to witness. So, now in what seems to be completely out of control: World distortion. The mesa starts breathing, the spirit world opens, and we are surrounded in darkness except for a small torch light that Cindella had lit before we drank the psycho juice. There is no gravity here as now we seem to be floating but we are not, our bodies are still on the ground where we fall asleep, no longer bound to the mesa. There are less colors here due to the unnatural darkness and everything seems to be in slow motion. Here is something crazy as I recount what happened to us, we can all see and talk to our ethereal bodies like this is an everyday occurrence. As we look down again at our bodies, they are not here, what lies there now is top views of our childhood homes and younger selves. After seeing that we start falling, but we don’t hit the ground, individual black pits open up and we all fall into them eventually, what seems to be us stopping and seeing what I know would be my uncle, the ringmaster from the circus I was raised at. Taught me everything I know about being an assassin. I’m not sure what the others saw in their black pits, I will have to ask. After what seems to be several moments we fall upwards out of the black pits and are now standing on the mesa. The mesa looks completely different now with bone dust and embers on the grassy ground and now in the middle of where once stood a complete pillar with tribal chief’s names etched into them, the same stone but split in half. Once we got our bearing and Cindella fortunately had a light source with here provided the only light in this vast darkness. Out of nowhere we all hear something say, “We are not welcome here”. Enter Combat: Three of us almost died… End of Combat: Once we finally finished off the last bone Knight we suddenly appeared in our own reality awake, and at this point Tuuraan guides us all the way back to the yurts at the campground an hour away. (edited) End Of Report: ::SIGNED:: Crock (Watcher)

S02E05: Steelhawk International – “The Trial of Red Sky Mesa" (Camp Khanbayan)

Expo: hollow
Watcher: Tachanka
1. L8 fighter hollow (P1)DM Boku
2. L8 paladin clover (P0) aDMeow | jiji #1 yapper
3. L8 rogue naelen (P0)Darkhunter number 2 yapper
4. L8 tachanka (P0) aDMXanlardis
5. L8 rogue Roulette (P0) SDM | David
6. L8 farin (P0)SDM | Coach
Our journey began at a shared mixed bath in the Upper Tear, within a Keshig rider encampment. After relaxing and refreshing ourselves, our party headed out for some shopping, restocking essential supplies, and enjoying local cuisine. Traveling onward toward the plateau where Batu would complete challenges to become chief of the Moonriders, our group encountered a peculiar dispute between a married couple. The two were raising separate horses on opposite sides of a stream, arguing heatedly. Tachanka intervened dramatically, slamming his staff into the ground with a dazzling display of radiant light, momentarily drawing their ire toward himself and his accompanying skeletons. Thankfully, the rest of our group managed to diplomatically resolve the dispute. In a humorous turn of events, Farin boldly attempted to marry the couple's daughter, adding some levity to the scene. Upon reaching the designated plateau, we set up camp and were informed about the series of challenges Batu must undertake to become chief of the Moonriders. We ascended the plateau to a sacred location—the Stone of Lineage—engraved with the names of previous chiefs. There, the ceremonial rites were carried out, officially marking Batu’s quest. After descending back to camp for a meal and rest, we met with Chief Erdene of the Thunderhooves, making a passionate case for why he should support Batu’s claim against his own grandfather. Chief Erdene, cautious yet intrigued by our arguments, acknowledged the significance of our request but stated he would need time to persuade others within the tribes. Later, we ascended once more to the plateau, where we faced a fierce confrontation with four Anzus—massive bird-like predators—and a formidable Froghemoth. The team skillfully defeated these threats, proving our strength and unity as we continued to support Batu on his path toward leadership. We stand ready to await the next trial.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Secondary report: Filed by: Roulette Diyods I’ll be the first to say—if you haven’t bathed in a huge Keshig hot tub with a whole bunch of naked people before, you haven’t really bathed. (And believe me, the whole time? I wish I hadn’t really bathed. At least I wore my towel all through it, and tried not to look at anyone. But that’s not so easy when they shout at you, because the reflex is to look and see why they’re shouting. And that gets into the whole nakedity thing, that I didn’t want to really be a part of in the first place, and, right. Baths. Hard to insult a host who goes to the trouble of heating up a lot of water for you, but man oh man I’d prefer my own tub if this comes up again!) We kicked off our journey soaking in the Keshig's mixed bath, tucked right in the middle of a rider encampment. Steam, muscle, laughter, and a few accidental eye-locks across the pools—nothing bonds a party (and apparently makes me blush like a damn radish) like nudity and hot water. Once the grime and tension were steamed away, and all the “Oh, I’m comfortable with my body and my nudity, so CHECK ME OUT” people had, well, gotten checked out, we hit the shopping stalls, filled our packs with all sorts of goodies. Then they feasted us, and Hollow ate like he hadn’t eaten in the past 2, or 3…. Hundred years. There was everything, from bloody rare to well done chunks of horse meat, and from milk to sour, fermented milk… yeah. Like that.

This is so not the hot tub tent, but it's close, and I don't want to remember the hot tub tent.

(So, by the bye, I’m sorry if this report is sounding like “Hey, Roulette, remember how you flunked Social 101 thru 401 in college?”, but I realize that I might as well have. I guess. Just hard looking at the horses being brushed and ridden and raced right outside, and then looking at those charred… yuck. I had veggies.) Finally, we got on the road, where there were blessedly no bathtubs or trays of ‘hey this guy isn’t fast enough as a mount, which means we can catch him and butcher him for a feast’ kinda meat. Anyway, we rode out with Batu shortly after everyone (except me and Batu) stuff their faces. The road to Redsky Mesa was dust and wind, but not dull—gods, no. We stumbled into a real spitfire feud between a pair of silver-haired horse breeders—former husband and wife, I think, and now sworn enemies, each yelling across a creek like rival kingdoms. He raised strong-legged charger stock, she bred nimble endurance racers, and between them flowed a stream and a full wagonload of pettiness. Their yelling had all the charm of a drunk bard with a broken lute. At 5 in the morning. After a late mission the night before. Which also involved drinking and a hangover. drinking and a hangover. Tachanka, ever dramatic, made quite the entrance—BAM, staff to the earth, radiant light flashing like a divine warning bell, skeleton entourage rattling behind him like ominous wind chimes. The old couple lost their minds. "Unnatural!" they shouted. "Necromancer!" one screeched. I thought it best to cool things down before someone fetched a pitchfork. “Uh, he’s just moving his stock of calcium from one place to another.” They didn’t by it, but I had a different suggestion to blow their minds with and take them off our Priest of Light and Necromantic Darkness. So I stepped in and said, “Why not mix the bloodlines to create a new breed together, while maintaining your other herds? Share resources? Build something better togetherI, capture a whole new market and succeed together?” The younger folks caught on quick—wide-eyed, thoughtful. The old flames? Still grumpy, but at least not less murderous. We walked away with no horse guts on the grass and maybe the first steps of a new breed started, if the young folk can put the old folks to pasture along with their horses. No one came to blows, not even with Tachanka’s undead horde, so I’ll call that a win. When we reached the mesa, the air changed—something sacred, and special. Batu, ready to prove himself as chief of the Moonriders, climbed with us to the Stone of Lineage. It’s one of those places where the wind whispers stories, and you swear the rock remembers every name etched on its face. The rites were solemn. Sacred. We gave gifts, some of which were even especially meaningful, and got us accepted to the proceedings.

But the mesa wasn’t done testing us. We climbed again for the first day of celebration, for us to fight as part of the ceremony, or competition, and there they were—four great Anzu beasts shrieking down from the skies, and rising from the muck came a hulking Froghemoth with a maw wide enough to gulp a caravan. The fight was hard, fast, and fierce. We were faster. Smarter. Together. Every strike we landed echoed not just with might, but with purpose. Batu’s trial wasn’t just his—it was ours now, too. We’re still up here. Still watching. Still ready. One trial down. And I’ve got a feeling the mountain's not done with us yet, because there’s 3 more days to go.

Roulette

S02E04: The Long Ride Home (Upper Tear)

The battle with the Behemoth Brotherhood still echoes in the hearts of the Steelhawks. It was there—among the dust and flame of Fort Ironhold’s final hour—that Chief Altan, stalwart defender of the Free Goliaths, made the ultimate sacrifice. With a roar that rivaled thunder, he stood between death and destiny, giving his life to shield the one he believed would unite the broken tribes. Batu, once a young warrior burdened by legacy, was now the Chosen One—a living promise, forged in the fire of war. Altan had named Batu not only heir to the Moonriders, but to the dream of unity—the dream of reunifying the Four Great Horse Tribes of Khanarion. And now, with grief still fresh and dust on their boots, the Steelhawks ride beside Batu, seeking the one man who could shift the tide of history: Chief Erdene, the enigmatic and brilliant tactician of the Thunderhoof tribe, and Batu’s uncle.

“When the time is right,” Altan once whispered, “seek your uncle. He is the mind behind the clan—the wind that turns the spear.”

The party rides high above the Tear’s vast grasslands, overlooking a breathtaking vista of rolling green and windblown plains. A perfect day: summer sun, a light breeze, and hawks soaring in the distance. It would’ve been idyllic—if not for the sudden scream.

Cindella, ever-vigilant healer and dragon-watcher, edged too close to the cliffside. The soil gave way in a silent betrayal, and both rider and steed plummeted toward the jagged chasm below. In an instant, the Steelhawks acted. Chuin Doublefisten, master of Chikundo, lunged like lightning, grabbing the horse’s reins mid-fall. Cindella slipped through the saddle—freefalling. Clover, radiant and reckless, dove after her. Calla, trusting in Farin the Paladin, gave him a surge of divine might. Farin leapt—a blazing guardian clad in silver resolve—and snatched both falling allies from the jaws of death. The Steelhawks stood breathless, shaken but whole. The plains had tested their reflexes—and found them worthy.

Onward to Erdene’s Camp As they regrouped, Batu pointed westward. “We’re about a day and a half out,” he said. “Erdene’s camp lies beyond the grass sea.” And so they rode. The air carried the scent of warm grass and distant flowers. Hooves beat in rhythm with the wind. It was a peaceful stretch—perfect for reflection. Among them: Chuin, martial artist and living legend. Calla, the friendly neighborhood kenku with a curious heart. Chorkva, the map-making Mapach with wit sharp as his quill. Cindella, loyal healer and ever the dragon-watcher. Farin, noble paladin and stoic protector. Clover, the free-spirited heart of the group, riding atop Twilight Sparkle, her steed of joy. During a quick break, Batu—quiet, thoughtful—spoke.

“This isn’t just about coin… right?” The Steelhawks, without hesitation, assured him: they believe in him. In his vision. In the path Altan had given him. “Red Sky Mesa,” Batu murmured, almost as if speaking to the wind. “Trials await me there. If I am to challenge my grandfather… I must prove myself. And I’ll need all of you.”

The Gold Drakes Descend

Not long after, while traversing the open steppe, the party came across a serene herd of reindeer grazing beneath the cloudless sky.

Then came the roar.

From the heavens above, streaks of gold. Winged lizards with scales like hammered sunlight tore through the clouds—Gold Drakes, apex hunters of the upper Tear.

Cindella, ironically taking a brief break from her vigilant dragon-checking, saw the assault too late. The reindeer scattered. One fell. Another drake swooped low, eyeing the party. Two drakes landed—then a third from behind. Fleeing was no longer an option.

The Steelhawks roared into battle. Farin charged, his lance glinting as he drove it into a drake’s armored flank. Chuin danced through the chaos, fists flying with such precision that one drake reeled from the stunning barrage. Clover, riding high, smote with radiant fury. Calla, Chorkva, and Cindella coordinated like a seasoned trio, weaving healing magic and protective spells through the clash.

The drakes were powerful—clever even—but the Steelhawks were resolute. When the dust settled, the bodies of three golden beasts lay still in the grass. The party, battered and bruised, found a rocky outcrop and set camp beneath the stars. Visions of the Red Sky Mesa That night, beneath a blanket of stars and the low hum of the plains, something stirred in the dreams of the Steelhawks. Whether summoned by fate, prophecy, or the restless spirits of the Tear, each of them was touched by a vision—an echo from the Red Sky Mesa.

Chorkva dreamed of the wind itself. In his vision, it whispered wisdom carried on the breath of ancient chieftains: “To lead the wind, you must first let go of breath.” A lesson in release, in letting go to gain control.

Farin found himself locked in battle against a masked warrior. They clashed in silence, sweat flying with every blow. At last, he stood victorious—but as the mask shattered, it revealed his own face beneath. The words that followed chilled him: “Victory is not glory. Glory is not peace.”

Calla’s dream was quieter, more haunting. She stood in a place between worlds, asked by an unseen voice: “What would you give… to be remembered?” The question lingered long after she awoke. Elsewhere, during the quietest watch, Cindella confided in Batu. She spoke of a time when she stole a strange stone—an artifact of the Khazari. Ever since, luck had seemed to follow her. Things had gone… better. She wasn’t sure why, but the artifact felt important, like a thread in a larger tapestry they had only just begun to see.

Come morning, Batu emerged from his tent pale, troubled. The weight of his own vision clung to him like smoke. “He was there—my grandfather, Lorkbold. Holding a spear. His eyes… they were my own. He said, ‘Do not let the dead speak louder than the living.’ And then I saw it—a cairn, heavy with more than stones. It bore duty.”

Before the mood could settle, Clover, still half-asleep, jolted upright with wide eyes and an urgent tone. “There were four fiery hawk-things… stoney things cracked… I not smart, but brain make connection. Or you wouldn’t know. We gotta move. Like now.”

The meaning was unclear—but the message was not. Something was coming, and the dreams would haunt their thoughts like mist in the morning sun. The Red Sky Mesa waited.

The Steelhawks continued their westward journey across the windswept plains, until movement stirred on the horizon. Banners rose above the grass—emblems of hawk and horse, fluttering proudly above armored riders. Batu’s eyes gleamed with recognition.

“Those are Erdene’s scouts,” Batu said, his voice filled with both hope and gravity.

Pushing through the tall grass, the Steelhawks crested a final ridge. Below them stretched a vast encampment—a sprawling sea of white yurt tents arranged in concentric circles like ripples in a pond. Wisps of smoke curled from the chimneys at the center of each ring. Warriors honed their blades at sharpening stones, while old men sipped warm mare’s milk beside fire pits, their stories drifting skyward with the smoke. At the camp’s heart stood a great structure—the command yurt of Chief Erdene. As the party approached, a low and ancient rhythm began to rise—the beat of ceremonial drums, slow and solemn, echoing like the very pulse of the Tear. The moment was reverent, heavy with anticipation.

Scouts broke from the ranks and ran toward the camp, voices raised in celebration. Excitement rippled through the encampment. Warriors turned their heads. Elders leaned forward. The air itself seemed to tighten with meaning. But before the group could enter the war tent or speak with the legendary strategist, they were gently—but firmly—redirected. First, they would need to visit the bathing tents. After all, the scent of dragon’s blood was not the way to greet a war chief. Perhaps in the next part of their journey, before Chief Erdene will support Batu’s claim to unite the Four Horse Tribes, he invokes the ancient Trial a sacred rite reserved for those seeking true leadership among the Khanarion. It is no formality, but a test forged in the honor of their ancestors. Blood alone is not enough to make a leader, only the one who can pass the trials can crown the worthy... The trials may take the form of a war game, a ceremonial contest of skill and wisdom, or a true survival challenge in the wild steppes. Whatever shape it takes, Batu must prove he can lead not alone, but alongside the Steelhawks. Their unity, strength, and trust will be judged by warriors, elders—and perhaps the spirits themselves.

S02E03: Steelhawk International – "Batu’s Return" (Upper Tear)

1.Lvl 6 Paladin | Farin SDM | SDM | Coach
2.Lvl 5 Monk | Captain Karagatan CG | Spoon
3.Lvl 4 Paladin | Tucker DW TheFifthRace
4.Lvl 4 Monk | Chiung Dublefisten Stoney
5.Lvl 5 WarSor | Crazy Earl williebeast
6.Lvl 5 Druid Cleric | Cindella BobRob

Bloodspire, huge ship floating above the ruins of Fort Ironhold. After escaping the Khazari onslaught, we reported back to Steelhawk International. Next we headed back out to The Tear to meet up with Batu and help him return to Karakorum. We continue our journey in the Upper Tear, making our way through the gorge, heading to meet up with Batu's uncle Erdain, the strategist, to discuss next steps. The six brave adventurers and Batu are on horseback trying to make their way down the steep ledge of the gorge. They stumble and slip and nearly lose control throughout the descent, but eventually make it down to the bottom in one piece. In the depths of the gorge, we notice several small animals that are of no threat. We also come across a large pile of dog doo, which Cindella thought might be a large wolf. We continue further into deeper vegetation and notice large wolf paw prints. We decide we do not want to stop to eat and be sitting prey. Farin suggests if you need to shit, just let it drop! (off the side of the horse we're mounting).

After several hours, we come to a stream of cold, clean water. Cindella takes a drink and sees alligator eyes staring back. There is no hostility, so we take a brief rest there. While we rest for an hour, Cindella summons a frog, commands it to collect pretty pebbles by swallowing them, and then she cuts it open to collect the pebbles. We trek further into the folliage and realize the plants look more mature and old. Suddenly, we hear a flute and some of us are slowed by it. Out pops several wolves that attack us. One of the wolves bellows a fierce howl and shocks several of us, rooted to the ground in fear.

Crazy Earl makes two wolves laugh uncontrollably at his dad jokes while Captain Karagatan holds two wolves at bay after getting ravaged a bit. After a few rounds, Titanfang, who looks Khanarian, comes out of the trees and transforms into a werewolf. Farin smites the shit out of a wolf and it goes down, shrinking down in size and transforming into the corpse of a human woman. After Tucker plays footsie with the huge wolf for a bit, we take the rest of the werewolves out and realize these are the same werewolves we that made peace with the Steelhawks previously. Cindella starts getting weird about making art with the corpses. She's not letting up, so Crazy Earl casts Hold Person on Cindella and Captain Karagatan slaps on some manacles to keep her under control. We decide to treat the bodies with respect and leave them off away from the path. The captain pulls the one horse casualty along with us as we continue on. Cindella smells smoke ahead and we follow our noses to an abandoned camp with a fire still blazing. Chiun Dublefisten, while spouting off their usual racist and sexist comments, investigates a tent and determines the werewolves had camped here. We decide to sleep at their camp for the night.

As the sky darkens, we feel an unnatural cold sweep over and Cindella and Chiun feel a deep sense of fear as the undead spirits overwhelm our thoughts and call us murderers. Despite our best instincts, we sleep. Tucker takes second watch and speaks out to the spirits to is mother. He gets a response from his mother telling him to leave right now and that "they are coming." Her face then appears in the smoke of the campfire to encourage him to leave the area and that she's sincere. Tucker wakes us up and tells us to GTFO, explaining the mama encounter. Farin gets distracted and starts singing a song with "mama" in it. Farin then snaps out of it and gets our asses in gear to leave camp with Batu. We head North along the stream, noticing how bright the moonlight is once we walk away from the camp. After walking for 15 minutes, we hear screaming from the camp as if people are being murdered there. We pick up the pace and speed through the forest. After another 30 minutes, we reach a clearing with the sun shining through.

In front of us, we see immensely high, sheer cliffs that we need to climb. Batu knows of a path up the cliffs that is wide enough for a donkey. We head further along, find the path, and make our way up carefully with a climber's kit and several lengths of rope for safety. After a very exhausting climb, we make it to the top. From here, we follow Batu to Erdain's camp.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sky still burns with the afterimage of the Bloodspire, the colossal Khazari vessel floating like a metal god above the ruins of Fort Ironhold. Even from miles away, its silhouette haunts the horizon—a constant reminder that the war is far from over. After narrowly escaping the Khazari onslaught, the Steelhawks returned to base and sounded the alarm. Their report painted a grim picture: the ancient enemy had awakened, and their technology—fueled by green gem deposits—was unlike anything seen before. But there was no time to linger. The team was sent back out into The Tear, this time to rendezvous with Batu and escort him to Karakorum. Their journey took them into the Upper Tear, a stretch of rugged wilderness wrapped in whispers of legend and danger. Their destination: a meeting with Erdain, Batu’s elusive uncle and one of the sharpest minds in Khanarion strategy. Seven riders—six seasoned adventurers and Batu—descended into a vast gorge carved by time and forgotten wars. Hooves slipped on loose gravel, and the ledges threatened to claim them, but through grit and balance, they reached the canyon floor in one piece. Down in the gorge, the air turned damp and quiet. Small critters scattered in the underbrush, seemingly harmless. But when Cindella examined a steaming mound of dung and spotted wolf-sized prints, the mood turned tense. They pushed deeper into the green-choked gulch, ignoring rumbling stomachs and Farin's blunt suggestion to just "drop it off the side" if nature called. A stream cut through the overgrowth—clean, cold, and deceptively serene. As Cindella knelt to drink, glowing alligator eyes blinked back at her from the water. Sensing no threat, the group rested. In that calm, Cindella summoned a frog and instructed it to swallow shiny pebbles, only to later dissect it for her strange art. Further in, the plants grew twisted and ancient, as if watching. Then came the flute—its ghostly melody slowing limbs and fogging minds. From the foliage burst wolves, their howls paralyzing hearts with dread. Captain Karagatan was mauled but held firm, Crazy Earl made two wolves double over with laughter at his awful dad jokes, and Farin smote one down so hard it transformed mid-death into a human woman. But the real threat came when Titanfang, a towering warrior with Khanarion features, emerged from the trees and shifted into a massive werewolf. The battle intensified. Tucker tangoed with the beast, and after a brutal brawl, the party emerged victorious—only to realize these were the same werewolves the Steelhawks had once made peace with. Cindella, transfixed by the bodies, wanted to make art of them. That’s when Crazy Earl cast Hold Person, and Captain Karagatan slapped manacles on her to keep her from desecrating the fallen. The party chose to honor the dead, moving the corpses off the path and dragging their one fallen horse behind them. Not long after, Cindella smelled smoke. They followed it to a recently abandoned camp, its fire still crackling. It was likely the werewolves’ last resting place. The group made the difficult decision to sleep there, though the air felt… wrong. As night fell, a cold unnatural dread swept through the camp. Cindella and Chiun Dublefisten, who couldn’t help but toss around his usual off-color remarks, were wracked by a creeping fear—the whispers of spirits accusing them of murder. Against instinct, they stayed the night. On second watch, Tucker called out into the void, speaking to his mother. And she answered. Her voice drifted from the shadows, warning: “Leave now. They are coming.” Her face formed in the rising smoke, eyes full of desperate sincerity. Tucker jolted the team awake. Farin, half-asleep, broke into a song with “mama” in the lyrics before snapping back to reality and pushing the group to move. They grabbed Batu and bolted. The moonlight shimmered unnaturally bright as they marched northward. Then, behind them—screams. Echoes of pain and death carried on the wind from the camp they’d just left. They didn’t look back. An hour later, they emerged from the thick woods into a clearing, greeted by sheer cliffs bathed in morning light. Batu knew a narrow path, barely wide enough for a donkey. With climber’s kits and rope, they ascended slowly, the climb testing their resolve one last time. At the top, battered but unbroken, they gazed out across the Upper Tear. Erdain’s camp was close. And the war was just beginning.

Season 2 Opening Episodes

S02E02: Steelhawk International – "Echoes of the Fallen" Watcher: Farin The Battle Within the Ancient Ship

Our journey began aboard an ancient, derelict spaceship, its skeletal remains filled with rusted ladders, broken platforms, and the eerie hum of dormant machinery. Frakas, ever the curious explorer, scoured the dim corridors for an energy source, following Hollow’s direction in hopes of reviving the ship’s systems. Meanwhile, the rest of us fumbled with controls—pressing buttons, flipping switches, anything to elicit a response—but the vessel remained silent, unyielding to our efforts.

Frakas eventually returned to Hollow, sharing his findings and requesting a calligraphy tool for reasons known only to him. At the same time, Clove, in their own chaotic fashion, wandered the ship, dropping ball bearings across the metal floors, their intent a mystery. Steam hissed from unseen vents, filling the chamber with a ghostly presence.

Hollow, struggling to decipher the strange symbols and signals flickering across the consoles, studied the interface closely. With some help, he began recognizing a pattern—one key stood out from the rest, different, wrong. And, of course, he pressed it.

The consequences were immediate and catastrophic. A hidden mechanism activated, releasing a sudden torrent of acid. Three of us were burned by the searing liquid, our armor hissing and smoking from the corrosive substance. Glammer, my loyal steed, barely survived the onslaught, collapsing under the damage. Hollow himself was caught in the chaos, losing his footing and plummeting 60 feet into the abyss below.

S02E01: Steelhawk International – "The Shattered Sands: A New Era of Chaos in the Stardust Abyss Operative: Roulette Diyods Team: Steelhawk Mercenaries Mission Location: Stardust Abyss, Lower Tear We touched down on the remnants of Fort Ironhold in the Stardust Abyss, and it felt like stepping into a grave. The earth was still scorched from the battle, littered with the shattered bones of what was once a mighty stronghold and its defenders. The war between the Behemoth Brotherhood and Khazari against the Keshig Riders and us Steelhawks had already left its mark—every ruin, every burnt out wreck told a story of the desperate, life and death struggle that had taken place here. The Khanarions’ blood was spilled by the gallon, including that of their chief, Altan. In the aftermath, the land had become a deserted hellscape, with nothing but the scattered bodies of the fallen, the wreckage of hopes and dreams, and the forlorn whispers wondering what comes next. Our task? Wasn’t so simple. The Khazari, with their damnable spelljammers, still prowled the desert, looking for… something. What that something was, we didn’t know. Not then, anyway. But we had to get to the heart of it. They were no doubt also tracking survivors of the battle, like the rest of us, but it wasn't clear that that covered the extent of it. The team was ready. Fighter Hollow, Paladins Clover Toast and Frakas Kegstone, Sorcerer/Rogue Fizzlebang, Cleric/Druid Cindella, and myself, Roulette—the rogue of the team, the one with the quick hands and a knack for getting in and out unnoticed. Not that important today- I was noticed every which way and back, but more about that soon. We made our way through the wreckage of the fort, careful not to disturb anything that might have been rigged or trapped. The smell of scorched metal still lingered in the air, but we didn’t have time for nostalgia. As we explored deeper, a new problem presented itself in the form of a band of goliaths from the Behemoth Brotherhood. These weren’t the kind of people who gave up their territory easily. We had to deal with their berserkers, their cleric, and their gun-wielding fighters who’d clearly seen more than a few battles. The fight was challenging, but tactics and healing told the tale and we were able to put them down with everyone doing their part. Cindella kept us alive with her healing magic while I worked quickly with my medical kit, patching up those who needed it in between taking pot shots with my hand crossbow. Hollow tore through the goliaths with brute force, and Frakas and Clover kept our flanks secure, occupying the attackers as they came in so I could pick them off from behind our line- they were magnificent then, and when they unleashed literally ‘holy hell’ in measured strikes to tilt the battle in our favor. Fizzlebang’s roguish spells danced across the battlefield, leaving nothing but scorched and pin-cushion’ed goliath corpses in their wake. When the dust settled and the echoes of the battle faded, we took a moment to breathe—just long enough for a portion of the fort's structure to give way beneath us. Without warning, the ground cracked open and we tumbled into a massive, forgotten space below the ruins. It was like stepping into another world entirely. The walls of the chamber were lined with mechanical debris, strange arcanical artifacts, and pieces of equipment we couldn’t immediately identify. The air was thick with the smell of oil, ozone, and the faint hum of magic. A large screen flickered to life 50 yards away, displaying images and cryptic runes that seemed to pulse with an ominous rhythm. Then, the ghostly blue apparitions appeared. Goliaths—dead Khazari, I suspect—floating towards us. They tried to drain our life force, their ghostly hands reaching out with malice. I saw the fear in Fizzlebang’s eyes as one of the specters closed in and sucked out his life energy, but, once again, we all pulled together.. It wasn’t enough, though. Seemed like there was this countdown on the screen, still ticking and moving faster, even if I couldn’t tell what the runes meant.. I didn’t know what it was counting down to, but I didn’t like it. Or being there, bein’ honest. I dashed forward, trying to figure out how to stop it, but before I could do anything more than jam down some of its incomprehensible buttons and panels, a massive warforged construct emerged from a glowing pool of liquid at the center of the chamber. “Defense Activation,” it announced in a booming, mechanical voice. “Warning: Intruders detected.” And with that, all hell broke loose. We fought it tooth and nail, using every trick in the book to dismantle the creature. Cindella’s druidic magic clashed with its mechanical might, while Frakas, Hollow, and Clover provided the muscle. Fizzlebang’s rogue magic danced around the construct’s defenses. Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably less than a minutes, we brought it down. With the construct destroyed, the room fell eerily silent. We gathered our breath, checked our wounds, and took stock of the situation. The countdown had… what? Paused, maybe. Whatever the Khazari were up to here in the Stardust Abyss, I think this wreck is a part of what they’re looking for. For the moment, at least, it seems no longer a threat. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. There was something deeper beneath this place—something dark and powerful, and we were getting closer to uncovering it. Something mysterious, perhaps ancient: the wreckage, and the screens, made me think of the Spelljammers overhead. Maybe these Khazari were here long, long ago, and we fell right into the proof of it. Our mission isn’t over. Not by a long shot. End of Report.

Summary of the first two sessions of the season!
1. S02E01: Steelhawk International – "The Shattered Sands: A New Era of Chaos in the Stardust Abyss"
2. S02E02: Steelhawk International – "Echoes of the Fallen"

The Bloodspire arrived like a harbinger of doom, its massive Spacejammer casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield. Legends foretold the return of the Khazari, but instead of salvation, they brought fire and destruction. As Steelhawk International, the Keshig Riders, and the Free Goliaths stood victorious over the Behemoth Brotherhood, the heavens split apart, revealing a force far greater than any they had faced before.

The Fall of Fort Ironhold & the Death of Chief Altan

The Khazari descended without mercy, striking with advanced weaponry and overwhelming force. Chief Altan fell, giving his life to protect Batu, who now bore the burden of leadership. The Keshig Riders and the Free Goliaths were shattered, their warriors slain or forced to scatter into the desert wastes. The once-mighty Fort Ironhold, which had withstood countless sieges, was reduced to ruin, its defenders either slaughtered or driven into exile.

A New Threat Below: The Buried Spacejammer

While the skies belonged to the Bloodspire, the Steelhawks discovered a second mystery hidden beneath the sands—a crashed, ancient Spacejammer, buried for centuries beneath the Stardust Abyss. Its corridors were filled with malfunctioning technology, flickering holograms of the past, and echoes of the long-forgotten Khazari civilization. The team ventured inside, seeking answers, only to awaken hostile security constructs, techno-ghosts, and automated defenses that had not known the passage of time. In an act of reckless curiosity, one of the Steelhawks activated an ancient rune, unknowingly releasing a towering Construct Centurion, a mechanical guardian programmed to defend the ship at all costs. The battle was brutal, but Steelhawk International emerged victorious, pushing deeper into the wreckage.

The Descent Into Darkness

Returning to the control panel and its mysterious runes, the Steelhawks carefully deciphered the ancient symbols. This time, they activated a mechanism that opened a hidden passage, revealing a deep tunnel descending into the bowels of the ship. The tunnel seemed endless, a vast chasm leading into absolute darkness. With little choice, the team lowered themselves down on ropes, some flying, others relying on their own strength to navigate the descent. Midway down, the team was ambushed by horrors lurking in the shadows—floating brain-like creatures with grasping tentacles and razor-sharp beaks as well as massive, camouflaged ropers waiting to ensnare their prey. The battle was fierce, pushing the Steelhawks to their limits. Some fell unconscious, barely surviving the onslaught, but in the end, they overcame their foes and reached the next level of the ship.

The Awakening of the Khazari Warriors

On the second level of the Spacejammer, the air was thick with ancient dust and the quiet hum of failing technology. As the team scouted ahead, a chilling hiss echoed through the chamber—cryogenic pods unlocking. One by one, Khazari warriors emerged from their centuries-long slumber, battle-ready, armed, and hostile. Their armor was sleek, their weapons alien, and though they were the ancestors of the Goliaths, there was no recognition in their eyes—only war. The Steelhawks fought for survival, battling against warriors who had once commanded the stars themselves. It was a fierce and relentless clash, but Steelhawk International emerged victorious once more.

The Chase Across the Stardust Abyss

The deeper the Steelhawks ventured, the more the ship awakened. More Khazari emerged, more defenses activated, and the once-dead vessel began to hum with power. Then, the Steelhawks uncovered a terrifying truth—the Khazari had been harvesting green gems from the mines near Craterstone, using them to power their advanced battle suits, weapons, and spelljammers. This was not just an awakening; the Khazari were rebuilding their war machine. Determined to escape with this vital intelligence, the Steelhawks attempted to retreat, only to trigger a full-scale response from the ship’s awakened defenders. Sirens blared, metallic doors slammed shut, and Khazari warriors surged through the corridors, cutting off every escape route. Security turrets reactivated, drones patrolled overhead, and the once-dormant vessel became a fully operational war machine. Forced into a fighting retreat, the Steelhawks dodged energy blasts, leapt over collapsing corridors, and battled through waves of relentless foes. As they reached the ship’s outer chambers, Khazari airships began to descend, cutting off their final escape routes. With no choice but to flee into the open desert of the Stardust Abyss, the Steelhawks were hunted by Khazari hovercrafts and warriors riding swift, sand-gliding mounts. The chase spanned miles of shifting dunes, with the Steelhawks zigzagging through ravines, using sandstorms as cover, and narrowly evading bombardments from above. Through sheer determination, tactical ambushes, and last-second maneuvers, they finally threw off their pursuers and made it back to Steelhawk International.

The Road Ahead

With Fort Ironhold destroyed, the Free Goliaths scattered, and the Bloodspire looming above, the Steelhawks now stand at the crossroads of history. They returned to Steelhawk International, delivering a dire report—the Khazari have returned in force, their technology is superior, and their interest in the green gems suggests they are preparing for full-scale war. The past has returned with a vengeance, and the future remains uncertain. What else lies within the buried ship? And more importantly—what will awaken next? So we start in Fort Ironhold, which is under siege by the Brotherhood of Big Stupids. They keep throwing waves of poor souls at us, slaves with exploding collars. If they try to run or don’t fight, their heads go boom. Not pretty, not fun. The defenders of the fort already tired, bleeding, and running low on supplies. Me, Munster, not like sieges. Sieges boring. Too much waiting, not enough hitting. Then, middle of all this, one of the slave people walks up, real nervous. Say the Big Stupids want to settle this the "old way." They want us to send six champions to fight six of their best. Win, we break the siege. Lose, well, we probably dead. We say yes, ‘cause what else we gonna do? Wait to starve? Kragoth, their boss, picks himself and three more Big Stupids to fight us. Big Stupid 1, Big Stupid 2, and Big Stupid 3. Battle starts, and after a few hits from either side Mizutani makes Big Stupid 1 drool like village idiot with a spell. He stand there, mouth open, eyes empty, like he forgot what he was doing. We take him down fast. One down. Then Big Stupid 2, not happy, summons big elemental snake things. Real nasty. They go for Cindella first, but she too slippery. So, one snake goes for Thor, the other goes for Mizutani. Thor, he fine. He big, he tough. Armor thick, axe thicker. He start swinging, cutting into anything that comes close. Mizutani, though, not so lucky. Snake bites her, tries to eat her. Me, Munster, not let that happen. I grab Mizutani, yank her out before she becomes snake food. Enrick, sneaky little guy, is invisible and throwing out healing spells like candy. Cindella? She in back, dancing and healing, keeping everyone on their feet while we take the heat. Then, we got Kragath. Big guy, bigger ego. He stomps the ground, fire shoots out, burns like hell. Everyone getting cooked, but not me. Me too fast. Kargus, though? He stand there, taking hit after hit, swinging away, yelling at Kragath about his ugly nipples. Not sure why. Maybe strategy? Maybe just truth? Either way, it work. Mizutani, now free, is real mad. She turns around and takes out the snake that tried to eat her. No mercy. Meanwhile, I see Kargus struggling. He got one eye, must be hard to aim, so me, Munster, decide to help. We all gang up on Kragath, and without his backup, he go down pretty easy. Just another Big Stupid hitting the dirt. With Kragath dead, the rest of the Big Stupids lose their minds. Their generals and commanders? They thought they were the best warriors. Now, their best warriors dead. They panic, start running. Most retreat, but some just stand there, confused. Without orders, they don’t know what to do. That’s when we take command. Each of us takes a squad and leads them into battle. Some squads get wiped, but we push forward and win the day. Fort Ironhold still stands! But then, sky go dark. Huge shadow appears. Then, BOOM! Sky splits open, and a giant fireball comes screaming down. Looks like a falling tower, but no, it different. Goliath people start shouting, "It here, the Bloodspire!" We all look up, and as it gets closer, it not a tower at all. It a big, flying squid turned into a boat. A squid airship? Me, Munster, not sure. But it came from the tear in the sky, from somewhere beyond. Cindella pulls out a weird crystal, says it once showed her memories of Goliath people in a big metal box. A "Spacejammer," they call it. It flies through a place called "space." Me did not know there was anything past the sky. And now? Now, we gotta figure out what the hell just fell out of it.

Season 2 - The Tear

Steelhawk International – S02E25 : The Shape of Flesh to Come (Upper Tear Underground)

Chief Batu’s Personal Recount

Steelhawk International – S02E25 : The Shape of Flesh to Come (Upper Tear Underground)

Steelhawk International – Episode 24: “The Last Ride to Karakorum” (Upper Tear)

S02E23: Steelhawk International – “Two Days to Burn” (The Tear)

S02E22 – Steelhawk International: "The Fire That Waits” The Road to Karakorum (The Tear)

S02E21 – Steelhawk International: "The Price of Silence” (Upper Tear on the Steppes)

S02E20 – Steelhawk International: “Destiny at Your Heels” (Upper Tear on the Steppes)

S02E19 – Steelhawk International: “No Chief Left Standing” (Chase Scene Across Open Steppes)

S02E18 Steelhawk International: Thunder Without Mercy (Camp Ironhoof)

S02E17 Steelhawk International:

Mission Report: Dispatch to the Tear

Morning – Mission Prep

Noon – Mission Begins

Late Afternoon – Reconnaissance

Evening – Infiltration

End of Report

S02E16 Steelhawk International: Echoes Before Thunder (Camp Karakorum)

S02E15 – Steelhawk International: “After the Fire” (Steppewind Ruins)

S02E14: Steelhawk International – ““The First Spark”” (Camp Karakorum)

S02E13: Steelhawk International – “Not All That Is Lost is Lost” (Camp Karakorum)

S02E12 – Steelhawk International: Return of the Vow-Bound (Camp Karakorum)

S02E11 – Steelhawk International: The Breath of Judgment (Mooongrave Hollow)

S02E10 – Steelhawk International: “The Hollow Remembers” (Moongrave Hollow)

S02E09 – Steelhawk International: “The Sins of the Steppes” (Moongrave Hollow)

S02E09 – Steelhawk International: “The Sins of the Steppes” (Moongrave Hollow)

S02E08 – Steelhawk International: "The Lost Khanarians" (The Tear)

S02E07 – Steelhawk International: "Stormborne" (Camp Khanbayan)

S02E06: Steelhawk International – “The Trial of Red Sky Mesa P2” (Camp Khanbayan)

S02E05: Steelhawk International – “The Trial of Red Sky Mesa" (Camp Khanbayan)

S02E04: The Long Ride Home (Upper Tear)

S02E03: Steelhawk International – "Batu’s Return" (Upper Tear)

Season 2 Opening Episodes

The Fall of Fort Ironhold & the Death of Chief Altan

A New Threat Below: The Buried Spacejammer

The Descent Into Darkness

The Awakening of the Khazari Warriors

The Chase Across the Stardust Abyss

The Road Ahead

Find your way!

Resources

WHO WE ARE

LEGAL

Get the news

Our Shop

Development

EVENTS

REACHING OUT

A BIG THANK YOU