The Wandering Isles - Session 37
The journey continued as the group made their way toward Dagtorp, accompanied by two unlikely allies to hasten their passage. Along the way, conversations unfolded—some revealing, some cautionary. Eos sought answers about her origins, confiding in Hatsu as she tried to piece together the puzzle of her existence. Amaedrianna worked to quell concerns about Slate, urging an understanding of his struggles rather than fear of what lay beneath. Meanwhile, Slate wrestled with his own burdens, sharing glimpses of the weight he carried.
As the first night settled in, Eos was plagued by a dream—visions of a storm, a ship, and a father aged beyond his years. A monstrous presence loomed in the distance, leaving her shaken upon waking. She penned a letter, a desperate attempt to reach out for clarity, while Slate kept his own quiet vigil in the trees, his thoughts spiraling in their own way.
By morning, they passed the towering remnants of Gothenhammar, a mountain split cleanly in two, its plateau casting a watchful shadow over the landscape. The place carried a reputation, one tied to forces few dared to challenge. A flash of something reflected from the surface—an omen, a warning, or something else entirely. Amaedrianna sent Albie ahead to investigate while their traveling companions veered off to pursue their own leads.
Dagtorp greeted them with the familiar blend of tension and routine. They sought out Orla Voltheim, but what they found instead were unanswered questions. They spoke of the flaming creature, offering insight into what they had faced, sharing what knowledge they could to prepare those who might encounter it next. Their time in the tavern brought rare moments of levity—Hatsu and Slate performing together, an impromptu act of music and skill that lightened the mood, even if only briefly.
Eos, bound by circumstance, hesitated to approach strangers directly, relying on Amaedrianna to send her letter in her stead. A small act, but one that revealed something unusual—the barkeep, who took the payment, chose to keep none of it for himself. A subtle detail, but one that lingered.
Then came Chaunce Artifice.
A familiar face, but not his own. Disguised as Orla, he revealed the truth—Orla was missing. And with her absence, came a plan. A collar, meant to dampen abilities. A tool, supplied by a name that drew skepticism: Simul Decker. The group, wary of Decker’s reach, pushed back, but Chaunce’s reassurances were enough to hold their doubt at bay—at least for now.
And so, they stood before a choice. The road ahead remained uncertain, but with a single decision, they committed to it. A small elixir, a promise of something more, and a step further down a path they had yet to fully understand.
A new milestone had been reached. But what lay ahead, waiting beyond the fire and the shadows, was still unknown.
