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Non-narrative Reference Links

Artificer-Forager deck (Constructed at beginning of campaign)
Deck as Amand has progressed in the campaign (Note, this is current to my latest progress in the campaign, not necessarily the Day you are reading. In other words if you are reading Day 6 but I’ve played to Day 22, you will see the deck from Day 22.)
Campaign Log

1. Day 12
2. Day 13
3. Day 14
4. Breaking the 4th Wall

Day 12

High Basin

Calypsa and Kal were already gone by the time I woke but they had relit the embers of the campfire and it took the chill out of the morning. I wasn’t surprised to see them gone. Calypsa ran a tight camp and for once I felt sorry for Kal and how hard it must be to keep up with the veteran Ranger day after day. Despite his airs of mastery he had, after all, graduated only the year before I entered Ranger training and stayed on as a teaching assistant. He used the role to be the petty lord over the new recruits and I hated him for that, but after yesterday’s contest and seeing him blunder about in the woods, I wondered if maybe it was all some sort of remedial training that he didn’t have the humility to accept gracefully.

Whatever the case, they were up early and already on the trail and I got to leisurely enjoy breakfast and prepare for the day. I did not have ambitious goals for the day. I wanted to find Silaro at the Fractured Wall and discuss my progress on examining the Arcology Ruins around the valley. I wanted to find Vira in White Sky to check in on her. I also wanted to end the day early so I could reorganize my gear and prepare for a river trip down to Tumbledown with the Verdessian.

As I filled my Infusion Canteen a stilt-horse rider appeared from nowhere and tossed a package of pemmican to me. Attached was a note from Vira thanking me for saving her. I wished she hadn’t gone to the trouble since I planned to see her later that evening, but I gratefully ate it for my breakfast with a long drink from the canteen. I didn’t want to waste any time in the labyrinthine Philosopher’s Garden so I shook off my lethargy and traversed the forest before the confusion of the trees set in.

Fractured Wall

I made it to the Fractured Wall well by mid-morning. The woods were loud and unsettled. The birds seemed to be actually screaming and the canopy shook as they dove from tree to tree. I didn’t put it together until I noticed the Verdessian thrashed even more forcefully in the sack. Reclaimers. They must be attracted to the ruined Estian dam.

I didn’t want to tangle with the Reclaimers just yet. There was more I needed to learn about them. Why they were in the Valley and where they were going? And from what I’d heard of them – eyeless and ravenous – I wasn’t going to learn anything from a face-to-face interview. I’d be lucky to escape in one piece.

I’d spent more time than I cared to at Fractured Wall already so I actually felt like I might have the advantage on the Reclaimers. I carefully skirted my way up the hillside to where I had last seen Silaro several days ago. Sure enough, he was still there staring at the ruins like they were just about to reveal all their secrets to him.

I snapped a branch and broke his silent interrogation of the ancient metals. “My friend! So good to see you again!” A wide smile broke across his face. “I’ve just about had enough staring cross-eyed at this dam. What’s new in the world?” So he wasn’t as close to a breakthrough as it seemed.

I caught him up on the Reclaimers. A deep concern spread over his face. “Yes, I’ve seen them from a distance and I’ve also seen violent markings on the ruins themselves, almost like something is clawing or eating the metal itself.” He flexed his fists. “These ruins have survived for centuries and I’m just starting to make some progress!”

I pulled the small glass bricks I collected from other ruins and Silaro forgot instantly about the Reclaimers. Wonder bloomed on his face as he peered over his glasses at the mote of light deep in the glass. Cross-eyed again, but not for long. “Entangled photons! Yes, of course!” Silaro rummaged through his gear and connected a strange device to one of the glass bricks. It lit up and faint lines began webbing across the interface. He handed it to me.

“Probability Compass. Probably harmless. Give it a try and let me know how it works!”

I didn’t want to linger around the ruined dam with the reclaimers nearby. Neither did Silaro. He asked to accompany me again to White Sky and I could see no reason to decline his company. After all the traveling we’d done together, Silaro and I were becoming quite familiar with each other. We scrambled up the Wall and hurried off towards Mt. Nim.

Mt. Nim

“How did become so invested in studying the Estian ruins?” I asked Silaro as we navigated the ridgelines leading up to Mt. Nim.

“Well I started off much like you, tinkering with anything I could get my hands on, but tech, tech, only tech. Living things confused me. I couldn’t carve worth a damn or build anything that didn’t involve electricity or quantum mechanics. Eventually I learned all the tricks of other artificers in the Valley and went to work at the Carbon Forge in Spire. But it was just slaving at the forge day in, day out, making tech gizmos to sell in the market or give to Ren Kobo to trade and I got bored.”

I knew what that boredom felt like. I resolved mine by joining the Rangers. “What did you do, then?”

“One day on my way to work I stumbled into entrance to the Arcology. I’d left a bit early and had some time before my shift started, so I poked my head in. Back then it was just a musty old building over top of a hole, mostly just to keep people from falling in. I still remember looking down into that black hole, blacker than anything you can imagine, and seeing glittering all the way down. Like some trail of carbon-forged diamonds.”

“Needless to say, I didn’t show up for work that day, or the next, or the one after that. Elder Mora hated me, I’m sure, but I couldn’t go back to the Forge when the greatest discovery lay right below our feet. You see, we’ve done such a tremendous job of finding our place in the Valley and coexisting peacefully with all the animals and plants. But what about finding our place in history? We know next to nothing about what came before us and I think we ought to if our little society is to survive.”

The methodical thump of our feet and crunch of rocks underfoot took over where Silaro’s story left off. He was probably right. For as technologically and socially advanced as the civilization of the Valley might be, I often wondered what came before us. I wasn’t about to dedicate my life to scraping dust of rusty metal and digging in deep holes, I loved the forests, meadows, and rivers of the Valley too much, but I deeply admired Silaro for his dedication and hoped that I might find a similar purpose.

Our silence suddenly turned ominous when, like a cloud passing in front of the sun, Umbra circled around the hillside and into view. If there wasn’t the constant threat of her eating me I might have felt a sort of friendship growing. I did feel that I had some faint understanding of the massive raptor after all these encounters, but today wasn’t the day to deepen that connection. I didn’t want to put Silaro at risk and my main priority had to be bringing the Verdessian to Tumbledown, so I mustered all the ferocity I could and started yelling, waving, brandishing a branch, and everything else I could think of to intimidate her away.

Though I felt like an idiot, it worked. She fluffed her wings in an irritated sort of way and flew back around the curve of the ridge. Seizing the opportunity, I led Silaro down a different path I’d scouted, leaving Umbra far behind.

Pride put some pep in my step and we made good progress up the rocky slope of Mt. Nim. As we came up to the shoulder of the mountain it was nearly midday so we dipped into the shade of a scruffy old pine for some lunch. We had nearly finished when Sil Belai came puffing up the trail, lugging all her art supplies.

“Aha! I’ve finally caught up to you! I’ve been trying to track you down ever since I of your daring rescue of Vira at High Basin.” Uh oh, this wasn’t going to end well. I just had a feeling.

Sil slung her pack against a rock and immediately began setting up her easel. “I’ve never seen the Valley in such a tizzy. Ever since I shared the painting of you connecting with Ol’ Bloody Clicker that’s all anyone asks about. You’re becoming something of a folk hero! Just yesterday I overheard someone telling the story of how you rode the Clicker like a stilt horse!”

I nearly choked on my trail mix. Silaro blew out a mouthful of water and spluttered with with laughter. Nope, definitely not good. I calmly explained to Sil that I didn’t feel like I’d done anything fame-worthy. Sitting in front of the Clicker was the last act of a desperate Ranger unable to escape.

“Ah, but you see that’s where you’re wrong. You did do something, or at least you accidently tapped into something. Despite all our efforts to harmonize with the Valley, do no harm, steward all life, and all that, I think most people are still afraid of nature, and on some level feel apart from it. And that cranky, vicious old biomeld is a kind of grotesque reminder of how apart from nature our ancestors were. Like gods they introduced new species to do things we wanted them to do. The Clicker haunts us, but you not only stared it down, you opened your heart to it.”

The way she put it, I did sort of feel heroic. I wonder if heroes also feel just barely in control and inwardly stupid. Sil told me she wanted to paint me one last time, here in front of Mt. Nim. Despite the intermittent rain, the light was perfect, she said, and the variegated blues and grays of the rainclouds really brought out my eyes. Mostly to get her to go away I agreed. It was hard to keep a heroic face while Silaro kept winking at me and calling me the hero of the Valley. Sil gave me an old sketchbook and encouraged me to practice drawing what I observed on my travels through the Valley. “Who knows what troubles paying close attention will allow you to avoid.”

I realized it would be only worse when this latest painting of hers hit the Valley gossip circuit. People would think I actually wanted to be a hero.

Finally free of Sil we continued our ascent of Mt. Nim and from the overlook I could see White Sky Lake clearly. Silaro handed me his binoculars and among the glittering waves on the lake I could just barely make out Vira bringing her boat back across from Golden Shore. If we hurried we might get there just as she arrived.

White Sky

It wasn’t even evening when we found Vira at the lakeside hauling her boat up onto the beach. She had been running some packages of food over to Golden Shore. “Wounds have healed up really nice thanks to those Rangers at Crossroads Station. Thanks again, friend, I’m not sure I would have made it out of those woods alive if it hadn’t been for you.”

“You know, I’m all done for today and don’t have any bookings for a bit. You need to go anywhere? I’ll take you anywhere the river goes.”

Stunned at her generosity, I realized I’d be able to make it to Tumbledown much more quickly than I’d anticipated. I felt a bit sheepish to ask, since it was the furthest possible location on the river (and the longest return trip to the lake), but Vira didn’t hestitate. “Give me a chance to test this new hydro motor from Spire. Uses the river’s current to generate its own power, works even better going upstream!”

Even though it was still early, I said my goodbyes to Silaro and packed it in for the evening to get an early start on the long trip. It also gave me a chance to reorganize my gear and prepare for the difficult road ahead. Vira and I set out just as evening was falling and I fell asleep to the boat rocking in the current, with Vira’s humming rising gently above the sound of the waves.

Day 13

Tumbledown

I’m not sure how she did it but Vira sailed all night through rapids that would terrify the bravest boatmen of the Valley, in daylight. I rolled out of the bunk to find her still humming that endless and circular melody. The pre-dawn light chased away the stars and in the distance I could hear the roar of the waterfall at Tumbledown.

As soon as the sun crested the horizon all the stillness in the world evaporated in an instant. A wind gathered from the west and whipped tree branches against one another. It lifted foam off the Silverfin and nearly blew our boat aground. Vira’s calm was finally broken and she screamed over the wind, “Can’t go further. Got to stop here! Good luck!”

She left me on the western bank of the stream at a small beach against a steep cliff. There was barely room for me to stand without the river lapping at my boots but I was in the lee of the howling wind. I took a moment to take stock of the situation. I was about 2 miles upstream from Tumbledown but the river was wild even on a good day as the terrain became more rugged before giving way altogether into the Verdessa below. I’d only come to this southern border of the Valley once before and that was overland. There was no telling how dangerous the river was. Pressing on was insane.

But so was staying on this fragment of a beach. The rains of the previous days had raised the river so high there were few in the Valley who could remember it ever being higher. And now the winds were ripping entire trees up by their sodden roots and casting them into the river. It was only a matter of time before something happened to sweep me away and over the waterfall. I had to go on and I only hoped that my Dolewood canoe would be more nimble than Vira’s large lake boat.

I tentatively pushed out into the current and quickly realized I could not be tentative and hope to survive. The river demanded all the focus and force I could muster. Cross currents slammed the canoe and several times I expected to be flooded or crushed, but Lyn’s unmatched craftsmanship held strong. I even began to feel somewhat like I knew what I was doing.

The river calmed as it made a sweeping U-turn around a meadow. On the opposite side of river was a sheer cliff. There was an eerie calm deep in the gorge while the wind roared high overhead, leaping from the top of the cliff across the tops of the trees and off further to the east. I eased my grip on the paddle and looked up to the riverbank to see Nal standing and waving. I had been so intent on surviving that I’d forgotten about my purpose in coming to Tumbledown in the first place. Easing into the rocky beach, I carefully stepped out while the river jostled the canoe.

Nal looked eagerly at the sack with the Verdessian and when I handed it to her, cradled it like a small child. As if I was a mirror of her empathy, I felt my chest and heart soften. Gone was the terror of the wild river and anxiety from the howling winds. The chill from the wind and rain vanished and I felt an inner warmth spread throughout my body.

“To the meadow, of course,” Nal said, as if to no one, “Gladly. We are not here to interrogate you, but to learn from you.” She climbed into the meadow and carefully set the sack on the ground. The vines untangled and grew upwards into the strange creature made of leafs and flowers.

Keeping one eye on the river, I saw some fish jumping and a bizarre many-limbed creature float downstream. It didn’t seem aggressive so I ignored it. As long as the ursus kept their distance, we would be fine.

I wanted to put the Verdessian at ease as I figured we would learn the most about its motives that way. We also didn’t know the full extent of its power and if we angered it we might end up with those oozing barbs in our neck. Nal agreed and so we first asked it’s name. It rustled its leaves in response. Okay… not much to go on there but at least we’re off to a polite beginning.

The conversation proceeded smoothly, but slowly, from there. It took a while to interpret the images Nal saw in her mind. We learned the Verdessian was afraid for its people because of something buried deeply in the Arcology below Spire. It sought to destroy the arcology and was unleashing the reclaimers to accomplish just that. Our attempts to communicate that Spire was the central hub of our society, with many people and important places, were largely in vain. The Verdessian was unswayed in its mission to direct the reclaimers towards Spire. It melted back into the meadow and was gone. As it disappeared two stunning white flowers bloomed in front of Nal and me.

“I guess we made a good impression,” Nal sighed. “But I’m not sure I feel good about all this. I believe its intentions are not violent towards us, but it has no idea the harm it will cause.”

I agreed and surprised myself with the anger in my voice. A tremor replaced that spreading warmth of empathy and my body and voice seemed to shake. The verdessian and its brethren were acting based on fear, supposition, and ignorance. How could they know for sure what was in the Arcology? They also didn’t know the first thing about human society! Perhaps Verdessians can relocate and don’t form large communities, but humans congregate in towns and villages that can’t be easily moved. But instead of establishing any kind of diplomatic relationship with people of the Valley to investigate the threat in the Arcology, the Verdessians set in motion a devastating attack on our most important settlement. I was glad for how well the conversation with the Verdessian went, and that it left with positive feelings towards us, but I was resolved to stop the invasion no matter the cost. Then, in the future, perhaps we could collaborate with the Verdessians to explore the Arcology buried deep below.

It had felt like a full day and it wasn’t even noon. While Nal and I were debriefing our questioning of the Verdessian, Elder Cormak Wellers emerged from the trees. “I was scouting upriver for any damage caused by this wild weather and saw you two. What are you doing here on such an inclement day?”

Nal jumped in before I could speak. “Just out on a training exercise for young Amand here. He shows excellent promise as a spiritspeaker and the spirit of Silverfin is abnormally accessible here.”

I was puzzled by her outright lie, but the image of a panicked Wellers in front of a council of Elders came into my mind and I understood. The Valley was already on edge grappling with the invasion, there wasn’t a need, at this point, to share what we knew of its origins. Best to just deal with the imminent danger, then discuss the Verdessian influence afterwards.

Elder Wellers seemed to accept Nal’s explanation and continued, clearly anxious. “Then perhaps you two could help me. Kasende has been away for too long on a hydraworm hunt and I’m beginning to get worried. Can you find her?” He meant of course Nal’s method of finding people.

“It doesn’t work quite like that,” Nal explained. “I can sense a person’s state of mind and their general location, but nothing more specific.” She grew quite and closed her eyes. “Yes, you are right to worry. She’s afraid. She’s near a lake… no… the Silverfin! Somewhere upstream from here.”

“You have to find her. Please. Stuck out in weather like this, injured and who knows what else.”

I readily accepted. I needed to head upstream to get to the Biological Outpost to discuss the Reclaimer invasion with the Rangers there, so I could search the Silverfin on my way.

“Thank you, Amand. I heard of your bravery saving Vira. I can only hope you find Kasende in time. Now, please excuse me, I need to get back and make sure no washed away Dolewood has destroyed the Waterspinner.” Elder Wellers turned and hurried away in the direction of Tumbledown.

With words now Nal confirmed my conclusions about maintaining the secrecy of what we had learned. “What I’ve learned is that often the less you say, the better. We don’t fully understand the Verdessian’s intent or motivations, so telling Elder Wellers too much could inflame the Valley against our southern neighbors. Best to keep learning and keep an open mind.”

“Speaking of which,” she continued, “when I saw Sil’s painting and heard the tales of your encounter with the Clicker, I was so impressed. Despite your love for tech,” she winked playfully, “you clearly have a strong and open heart. That, above all, is the key to spiritspeaking.”

Where Sil’s praise and the apparent fame I was gaining among Valley residents left me feeling embarrassed, Nal’s deeply touched me. I couldn’t hold back tears and gushed all my anxieties about my role as a Ranger, my lack of confidence, and my feelings of ostracism during Ranger training for my interest in bioengineering. Despite my incoherence, Nal just smiled.

“I want to talk with you about your observations with bioengineering. I’m fascinated by it from the perspective of spirit. The next time you are in Lone Tree come find me.” And with that she was gone.

I picked my way back to my canoe and shoved back into the current. It was going to be a hard paddle upstream to the Alluvial Ruins, but I’d spotted an overgrown portage just a few hundred yards upstream that could save me a great deal of time. I found my trail markers and climbed out of the river’s gorge and over the ridge. Once clear of the portage, the winds had died down and it was just a short paddle to the Alluvial Plains.

Alluvial Ruins

Just as I arrived the Cerubean Cyclone landed right on top of me, as if out of nowhere. And off in the distance I saw Reclaimers crawling over the ruins like gigantic snakes. I could not get bogged down here among all the detritus. The Silverfin was a bit calmer through the plain than in the gorges along its descent to Tumbledown so I hoped to make quicker progress. I refilled my infusion canteen with a tonic to improve my awareness and leaned into the paddle.

A massive Dolewood floated towards me and I saw something fluttering on it. Pulling closer, I realized it was a scrap of red cloth, the same kind of cloth I saw Elder Wellers wearing. It was a massive leap, I know, but I guessed that Kasende must be wearing a similar fabric to the elder. She was indeed this way, Nal had been right, but this Dolewood could have been floating for days. I was closer, not much closer, but feeling hopeful I might find Kasende that day.

All that hope evaporated when an ursus waded into the river upstream and Ol’ Bloody Clicker scampered across the tangle of driftwood and rocks like a spider. I couldn’t stay at the Alluvial Plain any longer. I equipped the probability compass and took a deep pull from the canteen.

First, I had to get clear of this cyclone. It seemed to be staying over the center of the floodplain, perhaps drawing strength from the winds that naturally followed the river’s current, so I swung out wide and through the smaller channels of the massive alluvial fan and waited. Sure enough, the cyclone continued downstream to where the gorge narrowed before lifting into clouds and dissipating.

I had to leave the narrows to get back to the main stream and figure out how to elude the two predators. By now, however, the Clicker and I had quite a rapport and just a few moments of heart-centered connection was enough to understand it just wanted to cross the river and get away from the wind, not eat me. The ursus, however, was standing directly along the route I needed to take. There was nothing for it but paddle as fast as I could. I laughed, this is the stuff of heroes. Paddle really hard and hope for the best. I was out of breath and my arms felt broken, but I made it out and was on my way to Stoneweaver’s Bridge.

Buffeted by the winds, harried by the currents, and generally exhausted by the day I pulled ashore and set camp. I said a silent apology to Kasende. Her trail would be cold by the morning, but I knew I was on the right track and hoped another few hours wouldn’t be the difference between life and death.

Day 14

Stoneweaver’s Bridge

The wind howled all night long and I was sure I’d wake up either crushed by a tree or washed away in a flash flood. When it seemed that neither had occurred, my meager riverside campsite felt like a palace and I its king. Stoneweaver’s Bridge was in view, a beacon of solidity in the wet and windy world that seemed to be coming apart before my eyes. 

I groaned and shouldered my pack. I had too much gear. ​Camoweave cloak, kinetic glass sculpture, Sil’s old sketchbook, the canoe, the darter, the belt pouch, and more. More than I could possibly actually use at one time. My hoarding and tinkering impulse was getting the best of me despite what I had learned from Nal and experienced firsthand of the power of empathy. Right now wasn’t the time, but I resolved to slim my gear profile as soon as I could. 

The priority today was finding Kasende and bringing her to the Biological Outpost, which conveniently was where I needed to go to learn more about the reclaimers. I had a strong feeling she was somewhere near the bridge because it led into the marshes where she may have been hunting hydraworms. 

Sure enough, I found sign of her on a portage trail. An alarming streak of blood on a rock, no, it was a handprint. It calmed me slightly to see the outline of her hand and how deliberately she had placed it there. She was showing me where to go.

Two ursus also were following the clues. They emerged from the forest, sniffed around the rock, and padded upstream along the river. If the bears hadn’t shown up I would have assumed Kasende had taken the portage but it appeared she hadn’t. The massive predators kept sniffing the rocks and bushes, clearly still following her scent. I knew I had to act quickly. I loaded puffercrawler spores into my darter and shot the front bear. It collapsed on the rocks with a shudder. The second bear startled and retreated into the trees.

I bought myself, and Kasende, a few moments and seized the opportunity to get a paddle up on the bears. I somehow made it through the rapids – again, paddling upstream through rapids is not recommended – and there she was. Kasende had propped herself against a rock which was higher than all those surrounding it. Smart, visible from a distance and gave her an elevated position to defend herself. She waved weakly and slid down the rocks to climb on board. A grisly streak of blood followed her down the rock. Another bear lunged from the trees, but too late. We were back into the current, clear of Stoneweaver Bridge, and away to the Biological Outpost.

It wasn’t until we were well past the bridge and free of the bears that Kasende finally relaxed. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” She said about the blood. Well, it looked really bad, so it could still be pretty bad. “Hydraworm nicked me in the marsh. They’ve got an anticoagulant in their saliva. Wounds just don’t close up.”

She peeled off a couple layers of blood-soaked clothes to reveal was was definitely not just a nick. A gash several inches long across her upper abdomen oozed blood down her stomach. I pulled a few herbs I’d gathered along the river out of my pack and gave them to her to pack into the wound. Tightly bound, it would slow the bleeding until she could get proper care.

“Thanks.” Kasende said tersely. I could tell she wasn’t the type to usually need help, so she probably wasn’t all that good at accepting it. “The hydraworms were acting strangely. More aggressive than usual and took me off guard.” I told her about the Reclaimers and her face opened up with full comprehension.

“I’ve been off in the wild for so long I hadn’t heard the news. But that makes total sense. The whole balance of the Valley seems off. Animals behaving strangely and trail sign I’d never seen before. What did you call them again?”

I explained what I knew of the Reclaimers, omitting the Verdessian and its influence. Kasende listened intently, nodding and asking clarifying questions every now and then. “Still, why now? How do they know where they are going?” She was sharp, the basic story didn’t add up, but I explained that perhaps the Rangers at the Biological Outpost would know more.

Biological Outpost

Kasende went immediately to the medical tent. She thanked me again for my help. If you just heard her, you’d think all I had done was bring her a new pair of boots, but by the way she squeezed my hand and held my gaze I knew she knew just how bad off she had been on those rocks with those bears following her blood trail.

It took me a few hours to recover from the upstream paddle. I really needed to track down that hydro motor that Vira had on her boat if I wanted to make traveling by river more feasible. Zek and Nel kept me company as I took stock of my gear and cleaned my canoe. I told them about the reclaimers and their eyes got progressively wider. Eventually Zek choked on his lunch and yanked Nel out of her nap to get on the stilt horse back to Lone Tree. “Got to go update Elder Thrush about all this. Best of luck!”

About the time I was finishing up mending gear and resting, Sirisana and Tiella returned from the surrounding forest. I recounted my experiences with the reclaimers, again. I had told this story so many times I was getting better at getting to the point and predicting when my audience would gasp in alarm or fall into deep reflection on what to do next. The two biologists began rehashing the debate I’d heard many times before. Invasive species or part of the ecosystem? It was the same discussion that Nal and Kordo had almost two weeks ago about the Caustic Mulcher. How much simpler things had seemed then.

I felt bad that I was tuning out the fine points, but it had been a long day already and I also felt I knew what had to be done. Just deal with the consequences of the invasion and leave analysis of the causes and philosophizing about the role of the reclaimers for later. I shared with them what I’d learned from the Verdessian, again leaving out its role in directing the reclaimers towards Spire.

“Alluvial Ruins! That’s definitely the location of the nest. Off with you, and good luck!”

Sirisana pulled me aside on my way back to the river. “Amand, you’ve done the Valley a great service already with the search and rescue and the example you set in seeking common ground with the Clicker, of all things. You’re new to the Ranger corps and I don’t want to intimidate you, but people are taking notice.”

“I want to warn you though that these Reclaimers feel different to me. There’s something not quite right. Why now? Where did they come from? Why the Valley?” She echoed some of Kasende’s astute observations. “There’s more to this than I think we understand and I urge you to deal swiftly and ruthlessly with the threat.”

Swiftly, ruthlessly, urgency, emergency… I was exhausted. I needed a pause before returning to search the Alluvial Ruins more thoroughly. I needed to rest and reset before the trial ahead. Studying my map of the Valley, I decided to take the river back to Stoneweaver’s Bridge then proceed overland to Meadow. I’d heard of the legendary Harvest Festival, and wanted to see it for myself.

As if listening in on my daydreams for a warm bed and hot meal a Reclaimer Seeker materialized from Dolewoods and stepped, or rather slunk since it seemed to be half-snake, half-lizard, between me and my canoe. From across the river I heard the unmistakable huffing of an ursus, perhaps one that I had deprived of a meal when I rescued Kasende. It did not look like I would not be taking the river.

I didn’t want to tangle with the Reclaimer, not before I had to, but this was a prime opportunity to see and study my quarry for the first time. I didn’t have my darter and spores equipped to try to incapacitate it, so on a whim I flipped through Sil’s Sketchbook to see if the artist had encountered Reclaimers before. Luck for me, she had. From her sketches I was able to pick out additional details – the clawed forelegs, the plume-like growth along the spine, and the eyeless face but additional pores above the mouth that must be smell or sight organs.

I suddenly realized my advantage. I was downwind from it so it couldn’t smell me and if I moved silently, it wouldn’t hear me. And so as it scuffled around the riverbank, I swung around behind it and made for the trail up to the Mound of the Navigator. Taking no chances, I slung my camoweave cloak around me to prevent the ursus from spotting me from a distance and picking up my trail.

Mound of the Navigator

The route past the Mound was longer than my intended path to Meadow, but I knew if I took advantage of the elevation of the Mound to analyze the terrain ahead, I’d be able to make up lost ground. The rocky column was totally concealed in a thunderhead when I first arrived and I prayed that by the time I made it to the summit I might catch a gap in the clouds. I made it up quickly; the trail markers I’d left on my last visit were indispensable in navigating the thickets surrounding the base.

Climbing a peak immersed in clouds is quite a meditative experience. The clouds turned me inward and, despite the rumble of thunder and high flash of atmospheric lightning, safely swaddled inside a pillow. I felt more clearly the rhythm of my feet. The moisture of the cloud caressed my skin. I reached out and imagined that I could manipulate lightning with my bare hands. With every step I felt I was climbing out of the chaos that swept through the Valley. The howling winds and drenching rains and the ravenous reclaimers, for a moment, seemed like someone else’s problems.

But then the wind blew the thunderhead away and I could see again. When I last climbed the Mound, all I saw was the beauty of the Valley. Now it seemed a land being torn apart. I could see fallen trees and mudslides and swollen tributaries of the Silverfin. I thought of the reclaimers swarming like ants homing in on Spire. I sighed and let my reverie roll away with the thunder.

The probability compass seemed to clarify my vision as I looked off towards Stoneweavers Bridge to plan my route forward. It’s almost like the compass traced the line through the forest that I should take. I snapped it shut and shuddered with awe at the power the Estians must have held. Wielders of lightning indeed! Able to manipulate reality itself!

Stoneweaver’s Bridge

I breezed across Stoneweavers Bridge, grateful that I was on my two feet and not afloat in a canoe. I’d had enough waterborne travel for a while and looked forward to the progress I could manage putting one foot in front of the other. I camped at the edge where the forest gave way to grasslands. I didn’t want to get caught at night by a Scrof or Velox. Save those troubles for the daylight hours.

Breaking the 4th Wall

I’ll keep these sections brief, but I want to make a spot for any thoughts or observations I have that are a bit awkward to try to include in the story.

• I’m pretty impressed with the progress I was able to make today, in terms of simply clearing locations in the bad weather without fatiguing out. I think having such clear goals for the day helped and deciding to move on quickly and decisively did too, rather than try to clear everything.
• Definitely too much gear. I’m going to pare down the gear load in the deck before I land in Alluvial Plain.