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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 19
2. Day 20
3. Day 21
4. Days 22 and 23
5. Breaking the 4th Wall

Day 19

Stoneweaver Bridge

Despite gentle prodding and persistent coaxing, the campfire coals were dead and I would have to settle for a cold breakfast. The grassland could burn up all at once, but wouldn’t yield fuel enough to sustain a campfire. Besides I didn’t have time. I hoped to make it to Tumbledown for a rendezvous with Kasende and beyond, to launch upon her plan to rid the valley of reclaimers. From what I knew of Kasende it would be exhilarating, dangerous, and gruesome.

I shouldered my pack and took in the surroundings. A scrof snuffled about in the grass and my old friend Umbra circled high above. I could not accomplish what I needed to today with Umbra shadowing my footsteps. Giving her the slip again was a top priority. Scrofs mean food and food in the grasslands mean mourning roots. Sure enough, a profusion of the tuber grew in a ribbon eastwards. Following them, I realized they traced a slight contour towards Stoneweaver Bridge.

This was familar ground to me and I made excellent time to the river’s edge. I equipped my darter and made quite a show of force for Umbra, scaring her away. The moment the raptor dipped around a distant hill I leapt in the canoe and sped off for Alluvial Ruins.

Alluvial Ruins

The current pulled me swiftly towards the Ruins. Gone were the predators and the reclaimer nest. They had most certainly accomplished their purpose there and bred in sufficient numbers to move on to the greater prize. The Spire. If my mission failed it would come at the cost of civilization in the valley as we had come to know it.

A Cerberusian Cyclone descended into the river valley and raged over the river as it fanned out through the ruins. I rummaged through the pockets of my belt pouch and quickly equipped my Camoweave Cloak and Probability Compass. I would have to aggressively push through the cyclone to avoid getting bogged down in the ruins. The cloak could deflect the worst of the wind and I hoped the compass could help me find the easiest path. If it all went according to plan.

All that gear sorting took time and once I’d finished the outer winds of the cyclone beat against my face and kicked spray over the edge of the canoe. Bent over double I dug deep into the Silverfin with my paddle, pulling in what I hoped was a straight direction. Much later, over a beer, Ben Amon told me he had flown over and seen me passing into the heart of the cyclone. “Completely insane, but you did save the Valley in the end. In that moment, though? I figured you were going to be detritus caught up the Waterspinner.”

When I asked Ben why he didn’t land and get my attention he just snorted into his beer and rolled his eyes. “Not even the Swift can handle a Cyclone.”

I don’t take much credit for getting through the Cyclone. If stupidity and persistence wins awards, then I merit the highest honors. The Silverfin spirited me through the Ruins better than any paddle, cloak, or compass could have. Eventually the river spat me out the other side. I pulled the canoe ashore in Tumbledown sodden, chastened, but still in high spirits.

Tumbledown

The swift current ripped past me as the Silverfin narrowed on its way to the Verdessa and I was grateful to be done with the river for now. I heaved the canoe above the flood line, lashed it to a few silverbud trees, and headed into town.

A thick understory of vegetation thrived on slope due to the humidity trapped within the river gorge, but the lush plants belied a steep and rocky ascent. Tryptafolum, sunberry, silverbud, and strange intruders from the Verdessa formed a thick curtain slowing my progress. Loathe to machete my way through I carefully navigated the foliage, but that care kept me clear of a couple seeekers betrayed by their distinctive clicking. It was late morning once I finally emerged on the thin rocky trail that led to Tumbledown.

Waiting for me was none other than Kasende. She reclined on the rocks with her face turned skywards to the sun flickering through the broken cloud cover.

“Hi Kasende, I was coming to look for you, but it seems as if you’ve done that for me.”

She blinked and smiled. “Ben flew in two hours ago and told me about some dummy paddling through a cyclone. I figured I’d come see what useful gear washed up at the bottom of the rapids.”

I contemplated how comical my efforts to traverse the valley must be to the more seasoned rangers. But I saw no derision in Kasende’s expression, just the same aloof amusement from the spider hunt. The memory of the kiss on my cheek flooded back. My breath quickened and legs tremored. I sat down quickly to hide a blush.

“Yea well I made it.” I sounded much more bristly than I intended to.

“Ah cheer up Amand. I didn’t mean anything by it. Besides my plan for these reclaimers is something not far from paddling into a cyclone.” Kasende pulled a small device that looked like a canister from her pack. “Based on your observations of the reclaimers we’ve designed these sonic lures to mimic and amplify their signal. Took some experimentation to figure out exactly what sounds to use. It turns out reclaimers have something of a language. I tailed a seeker and recorded it. When we turn this on, all the reclaimers south of Spire will hear it. We’ll pull them into the swamp. Hydraworms are always hungry. Just have to not get eaten ourselves. Think you can handle that?”

I imagined the Marsh and its hydraworms then visualized hordes of reclaimers. “How do we know the hydraworms will win?”

“Fair question. We don’t. But you’ve never seen the Roiling, I imagine, or as many hydraworms as I have. Reclaimers don’t belong in the Marsh. Nothing does, to be honest with you, except those intrepid marmots and a lot of mud. My point is the Marsh is hydraworm territory and they have the natural advantage. Despite the overwhelming numbers of the reclaimers I don’t expect them to have a chance.”

Of course I’d follow Kasende wherever she wanted to lead me, but I paused in faux-contemplation. Couldn’t let these experienced rangers keep seeing me like a little puppy following them around. “I like it. Let’s get going.”

“Sure you do, my little intrepid marmot. I’ll make sure you don’t end up as worm food.”

Great, I was a marmot now.

A massive Ursas were making their way down to the river about a hundred yards ahead of us. I clipped it with my darter and Kasende charged ahead with her sword. The bear wanted nothing to do with us and stamped downslope through the veil of greenery I had just ascended.

“Nice shot Marmot. Let’s get to the swamp. Lots of ground yet to cover.”

Bowl of the Sun

The sun was high when we came to the Bowl of the Sun, which seemed to gather and intensify the solar heat. The mid-morning cloud cover burned off long ago and we had visibility from the wide grasslands north to the tangled mess of the swamp to the east. Where we were heading. Where we would lure one vicious creature to another. I just imagined my grandmother clucking her tongue. “You’re going to do what now?” she would likely say with the raised eyebrow perfected from raising 3 children and 8 grandchildren. I was the second to youngest and once I was old enough not to be a bother my cousins had worn most of her rough edges away. I tottered after her as she tended her garden. It’s where I learned to love plants though I frequently question whether that love is being put to good use in my chosen profession. Rather than tending, healing, nourishing, and caring, I seem to be practicing a weaponized botany. Perhaps it is true what the elders say about violence, that it is the tool of inexperience and fear.

Whatever grandma would think of puffercrawler spores, she wouldn’t want me dead. There would be time for contemplation after I escaped the Marsh.

A chattering of meadowlarks pulled me out of the reverie of the trail. They weren’t looking at me, but off into the brush. My senses bristled and reached into the forest for any sign of life. A beige blur tore through my peripheral vision causing me to whoop in alarm. With fractions of seconds to spare Kasende and I scaled a boulder and avoided the Atrox.

Breathing a thank you to the meadowlarks, I scampered after Kasende up and over the ridgeline to the Frowning Gate and the marsh beyond.

Frowning Gate

The ambush we avoided in Bowl of the Sun we couldn’t avoid on our descent to the marsh. An atrox ambushed me and when I turned to fire a dart of puffercrawler spores at it, an Irix attacked Kasende. Wounds and exhaustion greeted us, but we were here at the first location where Kasende’s sonic lures would need to be deployed. Time to buckle down, focus, and accomplish the task at hand.

I bound the Atrox in the Carbonforged Cable while the puffercrawler spores took effect. It would be incapacitated for a while. Then I deployed the Kinetic Glass Sculpture to distract the Irix. Kasende’s left arm hung limply at her side where the Irix had clawed her. She returned my concerned look with a quick shake of her head. It wasn’t good. I’d have to find a location for the lure and get us out of here.

With the predators distracted or incapacitated I traversed the hillside to get us closer to the Gate when, from around the descending ridge, floated the Tenebrae. The purpose of these ancient biomelds long-forgotten, they drifted like question marks throughout the valley. If I had taken longer to consider the decision, I probably would have concluded the Tenebrae were a terrible place to affix the lures, because, you know, what if they drifted away. But in the moment I thought only of expediency and some idea that the higher the lure was placed, the further its signal would be broadcast. At that moment it was at a relatively low altitude, low enough I could very possibly embed the lure in its long dangling… tentacle? … with the darter. I climbed up a slight rise to an overlook that thrust beyond the canopy and took aim. Success. One lure down, another to go.

Before descending from the elevated vantage point I scouted along the trails to the west and south. From the gorge to the west came Ren Kobo with Quisi Vos bounding behind. I felt for Ren as I hid behind a rock. Perhaps funneling the reclaimers to Quisi’s endless questioning would work as well as the hydraworms.

While I hid from a child Kasende labored up behind me and flopped against the rock. “What’s the plan boss?” Her face was weary and drenched in sweat. Beneath the characteristically grim exterior I felt pain and, deeper, sadness. Kasende the self-reliant, laid low by an Irix on the eave of the climactic battle. It must be devastating for her.

“I’ll be fine, Marmot. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Stay here Kasende, or climb to the spiderline if you can. I’m going to place this second lure and meet you there.”

The Tenebrae drifted lazily over the swamp carrying my lure with it. I skidded down the ridge looking for a place for the second when I landed directly in a fractalwire patch. This would do. I escaped as quickly as I had found it and left the lure behind.

The sun nearly escaped below the horizon by the time I caught up with Kasende at the stanchion. We clipped in and made for the Greenbridge, passing over the sunken outpost. I had to hold Kasende the whole way and she collapsed into an exhausted sleep while tended to her wounded shoulder I gathered by firelight.

Day 20

The Greenbridge

“You did what?”

I explained again how I’d placed both lures at the Frowning Gate.

“You did WHAT?”

It didn’t matter. I’d messed up.

“To amplify the signal you need to triangulate it, create a cone to send in different directions. What you did was super boost the signal in a single vector. Not going to work.”

Kasende showed no signs of the injury to her shoulder. She also showed no signs of thanking me for healing it.

“Aren’t there any backups?” I regretted the question as soon as I asked it.

Her silence was more devastating than anything she could have said in reply. She stared off into the swamp, thinking, and I stared at her back. Finally she turned around. “Our only hope is that we get lucky. Perhaps the lure amplifier you shot up onto the Tenebrae will fall off. I’ve seen them often here over Greenbridge. We should search the area and if we fail, trigger the lure with only one amplifier and see what happens.”

I nodded glumly and began to trudge into the swamp.

“Hey Marmot, perk up. We’re in this together. I know you did the best you could and I was delirious after the Irix attacked me. You were hurrying to protect me and I couldn’t be there to help. It’s as much my failure as it is yours. Perk up. This isn’t over yet.” Kasende suggested we split up and I agreed. We would need to be cautious but could cover more ground solo.

As soon as we had broken camp I ran into a hydraworm and, fortunately, the pathway to the Heart of the Swamp. We would need to head in that direction if we managed to find the lure. I flipped through Sil’s sketchbook and found a picture of the hydraworm with Poor Peripheral Senses written in a scrawling hand. I held absolutely still until it turned away from me, then darted towards the Greenbridge. Clear of the hydraworm, I took a moment to remember where I’d put the belt pouch. I would want it later.

A reclaimer seeker sucked through the mud. An early arrival. I added to the sketch of the hydraworm but decided against using the carbon forged cable just yet. Things weren’t that hairy. But I needed to find my Darter and so I took an enormous risk with the predators scuffling around to rummage around in my belt pouch to find it. Success! Emulating Kasende’s techniques I forced the hydraworm to retreat.

Still no sign of the lure. How stupid of me to use both lures at the Frowning Gate. I guess the moment had overwhelmed me. I tried to believe that all was not lost, but the weight of the Invasion filled my heart with dread. In a moment of inattention, had I doomed the Valley?

I kept picking my way through the swamp and instead of some obstacle or some form of danger I ran into my recent namesake when a Marmot cautiously poked it’s nose out of the underbrush. Intrepid indeed… what was it doing here in the middle of a hydraworm infested swamp? I startled it and it bolted back into the foliage – but suddenly I had an idea or just a vague intuition that the Marmot was trying to show me something. And indeed something felt familiar. I picked up the scattered remnants of a trail and realized the Marmot had come from the Heart of the Swamp. Awesome! If only now I could find the lure and affix it somewhere, we could head for the Marsh of Rebirth.

About this time Kasende caught up with me, trailing a hydraworm behind her. “Brought a friend, want to help?” We tag teamed the hydraworm and using the peripheral senses trick I exhausted the worm and cabled it. “Hit a mass of impenetrable swamp mud over that way, no sense in searching there,” Kasende explained, “but if I remember correctly there are some overgrown ruins a few hundred meters that way.” She pointed towards what just seemed to me like more swamp. She’s spent more time in here than anyone, but how she knew was a marvel.

And she was correct! Emerging out of the fallen trees, moss, and vines was the unmistakable estian ruins. “Let’s hope…” we began criss-crossing the ruins when something suddenly scurried over the stone and metal. “Marmot, look!” It was the same Marmot from before and it seemed to have made its home in these ruins. I smiled at the brave little creature and turned back the search when something shiny caught my eye from the hole the Marmot crawled into.

Whether by providence or dumb luck we had found the lure. The Marmot had found it and carried it back to its burrow. This was no kleptic raccoon and it remains inexplicable to this day why that particular marmot decided to collect that particular shiny object. A quick scan of it revealed its core functioning to be intact, though one of the legs was broken and the housing was badly dented.

Kasende burst into laughter. “Marmot, we’ve been saved by a … Marmot?” She flopped backwards and howled. I felt the weight of yesterday’s misadventure slide off me and disappear into the muck and slime of the swamp. Maybe the Valley wasn’t doomed after all. “Thanks Marmot!” Kasende yelled down its hole.

I kept watch for more reclaimers or hydraworms while Kasende scaled the ruins and re-deployed the lure amplifier. We hurried back to the trail deeper into the swamp and made for the Marsh of Rebirth.

Day 21

Marsh of Rebirth

Kasende was in high spirits. She told me stories around our meager fire of swamp wood of her close calls, near misses, and narrow escapes. She let her guard down. Beneath the mystique of Kasende, Expert Huntress was just another Ranger (a highly experienced and skilled one, to be sure) making mistakes, learning from them, and trying to survive.

“Marmot, when you found me along the Silverfin, that was maybe the worst shape I’ve ever been in. If you hadn’t come precisely when you did I was likely to be a bear’s breakfast. And it’s got me thinking that maybe I should ease up on adventure, stay closer to home. That sort of thing. Never thought I’d think this much less be saying it out loud, but there you have it.”

“I’m not that much older than you, but I’ve seen my share of danger. And what I think I’ve finally learned is that you don’t have to seek danger, it’ll find you all on its own. Remember that Amand. Maybe the best advice I can give anyone.”

I felt a lump rising in my throat. “Kasende, I …” the early morning rain found its way through perpetually wet leaves past my brow to the tip of my nose. “Thank you. Meeting you and learning from you has changed everything. I didn’t really get on with my classmates and Kal just irritated and tried to one-up me. I felt like I wasn’t good enough. But I think I am and can be a great Ranger, and that’s thanks to you.”

Kasende poked the coals of the fire then poked me. “Marmot, we’ve got hordes of Reclaimers to murder and I wouldn’t have anyone else here, definitely not that jackass Kal.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.” Kasende activated the lure.

We needed to see enough reclaimers in the swamp to know the lure was working, then escape. Seemed easy enough, except for the hydraworms that would just as soon eat us. A first one swirled through the murky brown water like an enormous snake. We avoided it and slogged through knee deep mud. On the other side were more overgrown ruins, and more marmots.

“I think they like the ruins. More places to hide and it’s solid ground beneath them so the hydraworms can sneak up as easily.”

We took cover in the ruins ourselves to wait for the lure to do its work. A pair of hydraworms passed but didn’t see us, drawn perhaps by the first wave of reclaimers. Sure enough, the disjointed gait and otherworldly clicking of a reclaimer filtered through the undergrowth. A pair of marmots in the ruins bolted away from it, but one moved too slowly.

Another reclaimer circled around the ruins, closer than the other, and starting regurgitating its mucus on the ancient Estian walls. “Disgusting and unnatural creatures,” Kasende said. For the moment, anyway, we remained unnoticed. By now I had made copious notes and observations of the reclaimers and that work served us well in avoiding their attention.

More and more reclaimers poured into the area surrounding the ruins. “Looks like enough,” I said. Kasende nodded. “I think we’re good here, time to fly.”

I stood to leave and, again, something shiny caught my eye. I grabbed it and thrust it into my pack and only later took the time to examine a topographone of Estian make. Another treasure from the Marmots.

Kasende and I struck back on the trail we had followed in and moved swiftly and silently. The reclaimers were oblivious to us, drawn only by the lure. Suddenly the ground seemed to shake and behind us a mass of hydraworms reared out of the marsh and crashed into the advancing biomelds. This was the Roiling, and it was hungry.

Mound of the Navigator to Terravore

The rest of the day passed in a blur. We were victorious. The mountains and forests seemed lighter and more full of life. The sky impossibly brighter. We flew around the Mound of the Navigator and to the Terravore. Ben Amon dropped out of the sky, no doubt observing the chaos in the swamp, and offered to expedite our journey to the Lone Tree Station. I declined. The long way suited me just fine. All that awaited at s was meetings, explanations, and strategizing. For now, I wanted to enjoy the valley we liberated.

And Kasende seemed to want to as well. She jogged along with me, both of us in silence. She was smiling.

Days 22 and 23

My return to Lone Tree took me through the Furrow, Fractured Wall, Mt. Nim, White Sky, and Boulder Field. I saw Silaro and Sil, tried to help solve the Quiet problem in White Sky but failed, and narrowly avoided injury on the scree of Mt. Nim. It was eventful, but the high I felt after the Marsh of Rebirth remained unbroken. I floated above the hardships of the trail like a cloud.

Kasende returned south to Tumbledown. We promised to see each other again soon, perhaps over a meal or drink rather than a hunt. “You’re the savior of the Valley, Marmot. Go soak it all up,” she said, clearly glad that she didn’t have to stand in meetings all day. Truth is, I didn’t want to either. I didn’t feel responsible or triumphant. I felt that I had been swept along by fateful events and no more an agent in their resolution than a single snowflake causes an avalanche. But people need a hero and I would reluctantly suffice.

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.