Anbrah the Sĉīld of Jeiore becomes Anbrah the Loathesome.
Scene Setup
I would love to just jump straight into playing Anbrah and the Fatesong Lodge. But, I rather in enjoy a slow burn. Our Tale will start with us playing through the death of Anbrah's master when she was but a Sĉīld. Subsequent sessions will be her gathering her core Lodge members.
A quick overview of how we kick things off mechanically with Mythic (Or at least one of the many ways you can kick things off with Mythic), testing our Expectations!
Expected Scene: Death of Master
Our Chaos Factor [CF] is going to start higher as I envision this being an event that went awry in some way.
[CF]7 🎲 d10- 5 Altered Scene!
This would normally mean we go with our next logical expectation, which in my mind is not death but possibly banishment/Imprisonment in another plane, but before I confirm this let's head to the scene adjustment table.
Scene Adj: 🎲 d10- 00!
We get to make two adjustments and I am going to pick Increase Actvity and Add Object. We'll roll to gather a bit of info frommour meaning tables.
Increase Activity 🎲 control enemy
Add Object 🎲 dangerous container 🎲 transport frightening
Scene 1-Altered Scene:Death of Master→Imprisonment in a + frighteningly dangerous transporting container
A few Fate Checks to Flesh the scene out a bit. Here is a quick refresher for those in need of How Fate Checks work.
FORM A QUESTION
ASSIGN ODDS
GET MODS
ROLL 2D10
Yes 11+
Exceptional Yes 18-20
No <10
Exceptional No 2-4
Doubles = Random Event
The Fate Check Tables
Our Current CF is 7
Fate Check[FC]: Was this an intentional trick or trap? Likely (+1) 🎲 2d10+[2]=(1)+7+6+[2]=16 Yes 🎲 Defend energy 🎲 bleakly cold
[FC]: This happened stealing from a Rival? 50/50 🎲 2d10+[2]=1+4+[2]=7 No
[FC]: Is this the Mantle of Mirrors? Nearly Certain(+4) 🎲 2d10+[2]=(4)+10+7+2=23 Yes
[FC]: Master is still able to communicate? Very Unlikely (-2) 🎲 2d10+[2]=(-2)+3+8+[2]=11 Yes
Interpretation: Anbrah's Master was not killed but rather imprionsed during a cooperative delve with another lodge. This means Anbrah is not Anbrah Rector, but Anbrah [Blank], because in the Sands of Aamsk a Dry's title and power are passed down upon death. Imprisonment is not death, this also plays a bit into the Lodges current Tarnished Reputation. Also gives us something for the Home Location thread Mantle of Mirrors. Let's make our discoveries and determine her new title in the Fiction!
The Captive Typhoon
We'd stumbled into a cavernous hall. The shrieks of the wraiths we'd burned echoed behind us. Jjesah, the Dry of the Estorĉ Lodge, roared, assessing our motley group with a knowing gaze. Affirmations, marked by jeers and nods, confirmed our survival. We were battered but intact.
“Rest here. We've earned it,” Jjesah declared, his authority unwavering. Members tended to their wounds, a symphony of mending amidst the lingering echoes of our escape.
Jjesah's Sĉīld, Tyfira called back, “All counted for Boss!”
I grunted my thanks as they bandaged my wounds. My eyes drawn to the path Master Vesjec had tread. A sense of triumph set in as I considered the weight of our discovery. The cavern held potential, both for rest and reward.
“Looks like we might find something here,” I voiced, directing Jjesah's attention to Master's chosen path.
Jjesah, turning with a dismissive shake of his head, ordered we follow, “Look after the Rector.”
The hall was no simple cavern, no, as I scanned the walls I could see long forgotten reliefs of some mighty beast barely visible. I couldn't tell if the passage of time obscured the creature or if I was merely a mass of wings. A shudder went down my spine as my eyes beheld the floor. The same unsettling reliefs, a creature obscured by a mass of wings, interwoven with old word glyphs scattered along the path master Rector followed. The walls thrummed with a low rumbling as if the warning growl of some ancient beast. Tyfira gave me a look and hastened her step.
The path opened onto a circular chamber with four statues at its corners. The stone creatures seemed frozen in time, each in states of majesty, large stone wings unfurled, eyeless and scaled jackal like creatures. They stood as ominous sentinels, I started to call to my master, “Ma-” , his hand came up and he shot me a glare. Finger to lips he pointed toward the ceiling.
My felt my stomach twist into a know as my feet tried to pull me away. Beside me I heard the trickle of liquid only to see I wasn't the only one shaken with fear. Above us faintly glowing was another statue. This one, this one felt alive, some beast long forgotten and locked away a hallowed Scucka. The petrified creature had nails piercing its many wings, broken blades and spears protruding from its jackal like claws. At the center of its chest a broken mirror like arrow.
The room thrummed with that low rumble again and with it the light from the arrow pulsed. Master Rector, could barely contain his excitement at our discovery, his tail slapped the ground as if to quiet his mind. “Sands smile on us, Anbrah. Legends speak of one Scucka that once ruler of the Skies long before the Torhoof. The Nimbaqal!” He whispered with reverence. I turned to look for Tyfira to see she'd long since abandoned me and my master, most likely to warn our Lodges to prepare. Everything was screaming for us to get out of here, this place was forbidden.
“Master, you can feel that right? Something are better left locked away, no?” I asked trying to get us out of there, trying to heed my instincts. But my master was, is, a True Ysdelfer. He straightened his back and with a flourish silently walked to the center of the room. The crackle of snarl and the sickening smell of medicinal herbs marked my masters signature as he gathered his Arcane power.
“Fodder or glory, Anbrah?!” He grabbed hold of the magical bonds, twisting and prying, forcing the Snarl to succumb to his will. That low growl grew louder with each frayed shackle binding the arrow in the statues chest. My master as practiced a delver as he was, he was not one Vexxed and didn't have the power to overcome this old world magic.
“Are you Fodder Anbrah!” He shouted snapping me from my thoughts.
I hurled my own meager power at the binds, allowing my Master to shape and twist my magic to his ends. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the crackle of reality bending and breaking as we undid centuries. Each breathe was a chore, the air felt like shards of glass dragging across my lungs. I could barely make out Master Rector. I felt the bile slowly rising to the back of my throat as my stomach flipped and knotted. As the room started to fade into a dull distant hum and as the blood trickled from my ears, I hit the stone floor.
I shivered as much from the sudden temperature change as from weakness. It was cold, unbearably so,I raised my head to see Master Rector floating high above, his body wreathed in magnificent white flames. It is hard to record or describe what it was I felt in that moment, fear, awe, rage, reverence, despair… I think it apt to name it such, despair.
The chains that spanned the chamber groaned in protest as the wings of the great beast flexed and strained against it bonds. It's body once frozen in stasis, now rippled and shifted, it's muscles morphed like a bottled storm. The chamber winds roared with each great flap of its wings,and with it the white flames grew hotter. Out of the fire and storm an omniscient voice, my masters voice yet not his.
“Your pupil shows promise, Vesjec Rector. The bargain is Struck. Anbrah of Jeiore, Orphan of Baaskqir, Daughter of the Pits, Child of Zefyr. Your Master thinks you worthy, I beg to differ. Prove me Wrong!”1
Nimbaqal Clash
Air God+4
vs
Soul Block -1
Brave +2
Does Anbrah successfully defend herself? (-3) 🎲 2d10+(-3)= 9+5-3=11 Yes!
He hurled a Gale at me with the force of a thousand dervish. Somehow I was able to wreathed myself in Snarl standing firm against the creatures onslaught. Feeling emboldened by its words I gritted my teeth against the pain as I called upon more Snarl than I ever had before. I spun and wove the typhoon gales to my command, the Snarl threatening to consume me at any moment. I deflected wave after wave of monstrous winds that could shred or crush me in an instant. I can't tell you how long that misery lasted, I only know when every ounce of my being began to implode upon itself. When my mind and my will where at their breaking point. It stopped.
The chamber was a mess of destruction, ruin and deafening silence. My very soul groaned in protest as I relinquished my hold of the Snarl, every part of my body ached as I crumpled to the floor. As the chains began to fall and fade away, the creature floated down to tower above me. Still wreathed in those ghostly white flames, he lifted my chin, but instead of the eyes of some Ancient terror, looking back at me were the proud eyes of My master.
“You've done well, take this, you only have one final thing to do to pass this trial.” He handed me the broken arrow we'd pryed from the beast chest. He tapped on his chest wordlessly.
I shook my head, tears running down my eyes. This wasn't my bargain, I didn't want this. I tried to pull away but I was far to exhausted to fight his grip. He smiled his same all knowing smile. I hated that smile.
“You could never be Fodder.” he said finally as he embraced me, the arrow piercing his Flesh.
The room ignited in a flash of spectral storm as the chamber tore itself asunder. It was agony, a grief like no other, for a moment I was the Storm, I was my Master, I was the Nimbaqal, I was the very Air upon which the sands shift and once again I was free. The ceiling explode upward opening to the iridescent azure of the sky. When all went dark.
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Imprionsed
“Vesjec, your pupil will face persecution, she will suffer.” The Nimbaqal whispered from the depths.
“Yes, yes she will. But, you saw she is no stranger to suffering. Would you have it any other way?” I retorted.
The creature simply chuckled, a ghostly echo.
“She has the courage to suffer. The bravery to be loathed by the many. She passed your trials.” I said. I was only met with silence. “She'll prove you wrong. I know she will.”
I could hear the thunderous flap of its wings as a massive eye illuminated me in the darkness.
“Your faith is… endearing. Pray it not misplaced.” It rumbled.
“Or what? You're trapped in here just like me.”
“No…no. Little mouse, I have had millenia to master this prison. You…are…trapped…with…me.” it said as the pain began.
Breakdown & Bookkeeping
That is where we will end it for this week. I do hope you enjoyed it! These first couple of installments we are taking our time to get to know a few things about our main Lodges history. These mini play throughs may affect things from time to time. Today's session had a twist I did not expect in Master Vesjec Rector being imprionsed instead of killed out right.
So let's go over a few things.
1×
0:00
-12:56
Master Rector and Anbrah were not exactly strong enough to fray the old world magic completely. This led to a bargain between Vesjec and the Nimbaqal. The details of which I rather play out through the Fiction. However, I decided to roll up a few things to formulate some ideas.
Plot twist: injustice discover
curse:frightening fate
convo:quiet intense
cryptic message: enemies misfortune
I'm not sure but I think we may have been chosen for something rather epic in scale, to undo some ancient wrong. The thing that stuck out most to me was the frightening fate. I figured a trial would be in order for whatever bargain Vesjec made to be complete and binding. I do know that this bargain leads Anbrah to becoming loathed and outcast. It Tarnishes the name of Jeiore.
Also did you catch Anbrah's new title? Since she has succeeded her Master in a rather unconventional and what in the aftermath looks like a violent and repulsive manner. She is no longer Anbrah Rector of the Sands, but Anbrah the Loathesome.
Whenever we end a scene we have a bit of book keeping to go over updating list and all that.
Threads
I think we can evolve the Mantle of Mirrors thread and turn it into the Master's bargain instead.
Rector Bargain
Characters
I could add all the characters named here but instead we will add only three.
Master Rector
The Nimbaqal
Estorĉ Lodge
List Removal
There is nothing to remove from our list. So we will instead adjust the Chaos Factor. While Anbrah was able to defend herself, she did not have control over the events that took place nor the bargain made. So the chaos factor will go up to 8.
[CF]:8
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Next week
Next week we Meet the Sĉīld of Our Lodge!
Thank you again for taking the time out to Brave the Sands of Aamsk with me. If you care to join the world of Wyze, and contribute to the Reader Lodge, make your character, HERE! Drop the results in the comments below.
Fellowship
If you enjoy this format of game I highly recommend checking out the amazing The Peoplz & Dragons YT channel. The director recently started a new Play by Video Campaign where you can watch your character come to life.
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