"Your duty. Defend the land. Defend the future."



"Prove myself," the eldest woman repeated, smiling as if at a precocious child. "My dear, I have, as they say, stood the test of time." As she said this, her face aged into the wrinkled skin and gumless mouth of a woman who was beyond elderly. Then it reverted to her more dignified form.

"The Starbound Alliance is an alliance of Quinichiat, humans, and dwarves. So while you and this charming young lady," she winked at Cora, "may be friends, you are not Starbound."

Opalia looked perplexed, wondering why this wise pale-elf was spoke of her oldness while the talk was of GOOD-FIGHTING.  The giantess said straightforwardly, "Rocks do stand time-test, but we do not give GRANDEST weapons to rocks to wield.  If we are to WIN, this mighty weapon must be in the hands of BEST swords-fighter.  If you are better swords-fighter than CORA, then prove it so."  She did not consider this to be an insult, but a matter of pure practicality.  A great weapon should be wielded by the one who can wield it best, which is not a qualification earned by oldness or wiseness, but by proof of GOOD-FIGHTING.  Elder Skykeepers who live so long that their strength fails prove their wisdom by bestowing their weapons upon descendents with steadier hands.  Among Opalia's people, to attempt to keep hold of a weapon beyond one's ability to wield it is to disqualify oneself as a leader.


Opalia was not normally one to argue with wise pale-elfs, but this one was saying many wrong things.  Anatka SIKUAQ does not say wrong things, and thus had proved herself wiser than this one with the berry-crown.  The giantess looked at Cora and then put the simple truth before the Quinichiat elders, "ALL OF US who do fight for goodness are STARBOUND friends, or NONE are."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:04, Mon 18 July 2022.

Cora turned the blade around, holding it up to the warrior pommel first

"I am not sure. I sacrificed some of my life to bring us here, I would see this through until the end if I could. But the blade is mine by right of salvage, and yours by rights of the Starbound Alliance. But more than that, Gruumsh Orc-Father has laid hand on it as well. This blade is bound to me, and I to it. We first need to see if it can be separated from me without an extensive ritual."

She looked at Opalia and smiled

"I'm not a great sword fighter, I am simply a cook from Lawton's Glen. It is not important to me to be the warrior who strikes down Garduk, it's only important for me to do all I can."

OOC: standard action to dismiss the sword as warrior reaches for it, and if that doesn't do anything (didn't before) then after a minute it should dissolve into the "pocket space" but we're again beholden to what the story says

Fergus finally reached his breaking point. "Hold on a minute," Fergus protested. "You keep talking about your Starbound Alliance, but all I see are Quinichiat. No offense, but where are the dwarves? The men? And why do you need this sword so badly now when a week ago you advised us to leave it with Gralen in his icy tomb?"

He considered whether his outburst had already gone too far, but continued. "Cora knows how to use the blade and it's bound to her now. She got us here. She can get us back."

"An excellent question." The white-haired woman smiled at Fergus, suggesting she was quite pleased with his cleverness. "Where are the dwarves? Squabbling amongst themselves. Making common cause with that orcish pretender. Trust me, young man: I know a conniving old woman when I see one. And the humans? Trying to summon a shadow army of their own!"



"Indeed. There is much she could do with that sword. That is why she cannot be allowed to keep it. This is not a debate, young dwarf. We are taking the sword."

Quenya took a step toward Cora, her arm outstretched expectantly, as if there were no question of disobeying her.

But Cora did disobey. She willed the weapon away from her, and as she did so, time slowed down for her. The elf's movement grew more sluggish until her hand seemed frozen in place. Familiar whispers sounded in the half-orc's ears, and darkness crept in from the edges of her vision. A new hand reached out from that darkness, a clawed hand Cora recognized as orcish. Not only as orcish, but as a hand she had seen many times before her, one that had always placed into her own hand the right weapon for the moment. Now this ancient orc was asking her to place a weapon in its hand...

Up to you, Cora... You can either keep the sword with you in the Shadowrealm and deal with Quenya, or you can allow this orcish hand to take it from you.

Opalia shook her head and stated what, to her, was plain and obvious fact, "Little CORA is very good cook from LAWTON glen, but also more.  CORA is a MIGHTY HERO and daughter of FIRSTEST-ORC!  Also, BEST swords-fighter and victor of many battles."  She nodded and said definitively, "None are more worthy of grandest sword.  NONE."


Opalia shared Fergus's frustration with these crafty pale-elfs coming to steal CORA's weapon and tell herself and Cora they weren't Starbound, and stood beside them both in unequivocal support.  The news of squabbling dwarfs sounded unfortunately accurate after their own visit to GRUNDEL-HOME, but MANS summoning shadows was a concerning development.  Opalia answered the old anatka's question, "DWARF is here, MAN is here."  She gestured to Fergus and Arvid and then went on, "MAN and DWARF and ELF and ORC and SKYKEEPER, all fight together.  All bleed together."  The giantess swept a mighty arm outward in an arc to indicate their diverse fellowship and bellowed, "WE are STARBOUND, together.  ALL or NONE."

"Gruumsh Orc-Father, I see your hand outreaching. It reaches across the ages and I see it finally. Ancient father, first of orcs and advocate for ancient rights stolen by the elves and men, I give you Fatosgri, the first axe which slew the molten beasts which your blood awakened."

The hand before her shifted, still ancient

"Baghtru, ancient father of my father's blood. You seek the sword, but it was made to kill our kind. I give you Vorspat, legendary hewer of golden scalps, and send you far away to war with those who invade us."

The hand shifted again, smooth, with tattoos and scars. The orc was complete before her, dressed in hides and leathers smiling at her. Her wrist was chained to his tusks and he stretched his hand out pleading

"Quadagh, skald who charmed the Franco wonan Carin. You were killed, by frost or shadow or orc."

Tuskhewer was in her other hand, her father's tusks shattered, his mouth bloody even as he smiled

"I give you Tuskhewer, and so release your shade from Yurtus' grasp. Fight until your fellow orcs heed your dream of unity in the North."

Cora turned the blade again, flipping it to be held in her hand and not offered as the black mail hand reached out

"Garduk. I give you the Starbound Blade. May it put your shade to rest, may it break this power of Kinak and redeem your nature, lower than a goblin's to serve a weak and feeble master. Ordhak, I pronounce you."

The hand withered like a goblin's and she sent it away, Quenya before her finally

"I'm afraid my friend speaks truth. I am part of this alliance. All or none. The blade will be surrendered when Garduk and Kinak are defeated."

The clawed hand closed around the hilt of the offered blade. For a moment, the whispers in Cora's head, which had always spoken in an orcish tongue too ancient for her to understand though she spoke the language, made sense to her. "Someday I shall kill you," they said, a common, if ominous, orcish greeting. Then the hand was gone, replaced by a pale elvish one seizing at empty air. Disbelief, followed by irritation, passed across the druid's face like ripples on a pond and were gone as quickly, replaced by her wry smile.

Quenya's allies reading for a fight but paused when they their leader's hand reach up to touch Cora's chin. "What a cunning girl you are. Too cunning for your own good, perhaps. Unless you intend to remain in this realm forever?"

Sikuaq had remained dutifully quiet, not voicing any personal displeasure about this recent turn of events, of the offhand dismissal of several of their group's contributions and value to the cause, of the relinquishment of the talisman they had fought so hard to secure.  Despite the seeming unfairness of it all, she knew the Council operated with a much longer view than even she and their ultimate reasons were always difficult to comprehend.  Sikuaq had faith that their asking for the blade was in the best interest of the alliance combating Kinak, and so she stayed her tongue.

Similarly, she curbed her irritation with her friends when some did not follow her example but instead adopted a confrontational stance with the Mother of the Council.  Even though she found at least some of their comments valid, they were hardly helpful given the situation.  The trio aligned before them could easily take whatever they wanted from the intrepid companions and if it came to that, the least they would suffer was condemnation and shunning.  It might be much worse.  Thank the Spring Maiden Keth is not here, the stray tangent flew through her mind.  Imagining his resentful and belligerent presence here curdled her stomach, for all that he was right to harbour his resentments.

Bu then Cora did something, and suddenly the blade Sikuaq had thought was being dutifully offered simply...disappeared.  "What have you done?" the anatka hissed, unable to control her annoyance at the surprise ploy.  Clenching her fists at her side, she anxiously awaited the result of this challenge to Mother Ooya.

Sikuaq's question mattered more than Quenya's in the moment.

"I bonded to the blade. There's nothing to solve it, save bond to another or die. I bonded to it a while ago...there is nothing for it. I simply tested if I could give the sword...and Gruumsh made it clear that handing the sword to Quenya or to him were one and the same."

Aurora played across Cora's hand and the blade appeared again

"Imperfect as the scabbard is, it will need to be."

Quenya said nothing further as the Starbound Blade reappeared in Cora's hand, silence conveying her fury better than any words could. When she finally spoke, her tone was measured but clipped, frosty as her hair. "You are bonded with something darker than that sword. But keep it if you must. It is but a tool. Even your master is but a tool.

You say you will surrender the blade when Garduk is defeated. Will you be bound by that oath?" The first words of the spell were already on the elf woman's lips before Cora could answer.

Cora, you can make a Wisdom save to try to resist this spell, but you can also choose to fail the save deliberately and allow it to bind you. You can even try to resist secretly, but this would require passing both the Wis save and a Deception check. Should you succeed at that, Quenya would believe you bound by the spell, but you would not be.

Of course you can also try to attack her or something to interrupt the casting, but what Sikuaq has warned is true: these druids seem quite powerful, and they have reinforcements outside.

Cora let the binding wash over her, not really seeing the point in resisting. The elf's "oath" was anything but, and if she was coerced to hand over the blade than it was not an oath at all.

OOC: no will save, no deception

Opening her eyes again, Cora looked at Quenya

"Gruumsh at least offered a choice."

She moved back and away, heading to the others as she pointed back at the pan and scrubber.

"Finish the washing up, if you're so eager to get on with things."

Arvid placed a comforting hand upon Cora's shoulder as she drew back towards the security of the party.

"Well done," he said quietly. "That was very brave."

Smiling sideways at Opalia he winked. "All or none. Personally, I prefer all."

"Now lets finish the job we came here to do."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:39, Thu 21 July 2022.

There came a moment when the contest of wills between CORA and OLD-ANATKA nearly came to a head, and Opalia's hand went to Frostfall's haft... but then an agreement was reached.  She didn't much understand the terms that were discussed, but the important bit was that Cora KEEPS her much-good sword.  The giantess clapped a hand upon the half-orcess's shoulder and gave a bright grin that told how proud she was better than her words ever could.

The giantess was still displeased about being excluded from the Starbound Alliance, but that would be a matter for another time.  Opalia shared a sidelong smile at Arvid and agreed, "All or none, YES.  Good folk will know ALL is best."  Assuming there were no further threats for the time being, Opalia followed Cora's direction to and proceeded to scrub the dirty pan with MIGHTY gusto.

Fergus observed the standoff between Cora and Quenya with jaw open. Cora's bravery didn't surprise him, but he was glad the druidess accepted it. With  that settled, he expelled a sigh of relief, embraced his niece, then agreed with the northman. "You're right, Arvid. I prefer all, too."

"Good girl," the elf woman cooed as Cora consented to the spell. Her pale hand passed over the rough skin of the half-orc's forehead as she spoke the command, "Upon Garduk's defeat, you will return this sword to the Druidic Council."

Any delusion Cora may have harbored about tricking the druid dissipated; the mere thought of it made her queasy.



"Let us not waste time cleaning up after these brutes," Quenya said. Revulsion overtook her face as she realized it was the party that had consumed the giants' goat, but she said nothing further about it.

"Come," she ordered the party and her companions alike. "Opening the portal will be easier in the next room. Kinak has done some of the work for us already." Without waiting for a response, she led the way through the as-yet-unopened door at the north end of the room.

It was plain to see this had been Kinak's layer. A copper plate connected to a conduit had enabled him to use his lightning attack against the party while they fought in the forge. An obsidian mirror on the opposite wall had enabled him to observe his enslaved giants at work, though the mirror now seemed to show the dwarves of Gruundelheim readying their defenses. The room was without a ceiling, topped instead by a broad sort of chimney that traveled up many hundreds of feet before opening onto a dark sky.

Cora could feel the lingering energy of the god's magic in the room. In this, at least, Quenya was right: opening a portal would not be difficult.

Cora, you are under the effect of a geas spell; disobeying Quenya's command will result in significant, ongoing psychic damage. The wording of the command may be a little vague, so its triggering will depend on Cora's intent. In other words, she will not take damage if, after defeating Garduk, she pauses to drink some water before surrendering the sword. However, she actively avoids or deliberately delays surrendering it, that will trigger the damage.

Also, Cora can feel that the Starbound Blade has been slightly changed by her patron's touch. Bonding with it no longer has the effect of nullifying her half-orc racial traits, so you can once again use Relentless Endurance and Savage Attacks even while bonded to the sword.

Whenever you're ready, opening a portal will require a DC 5 Religion check from Cora, and Quenya will help so she can roll with advantage. The usual, permanent loss of 1d6 HP will apply.

Sikuaq did not fully understand Cora's abilities nor the exact nature of the bonding she did to the various weapons she had carried since Sikuaq had known her.  But she did mention that she could replace the bonding with another weapon, so why not do that?  As to whether handing the blade to the Mother of the Council or to Gruumsh was the same choice, she was sure Gruumsh would argue His side.  Sikuaq certainly did not see the two as equivalent choices.  And so she remained dissatisfied with Cora's choice, annoyance still playing across her pale face.

But the leader of the druids seemed to finally accept the rebuke, obviously seeing another path to the same desired end.  So Sikuaq swallowed her feelings and let it be.  Almost she broke that silence when the oath was demanded of Cora, worried she might not understand the power of such a commitment to one such as Quenya Oori.  But she had played the game to her own satisfaction so far, so Sikuaq let it lie and trusted Cora knew what she was up against.

Into the next room they went, and Sikuaq marveled at the feel of power in the room.  A stirring in her belly responded, a hunger rising to taste that energy and take it within.  Fear of exposing herself in front of the Council members gave her added strength and she suppressed the beast with some effort, only a flare in her eyes belying the short struggle.  Standing as tall and straight as she was able she waited, trapped in the limbo between friends and duty, while the portal home was fashioned.

OOC: can't fail the check as I have a +4 to Religion

Easier this time, quieter and more focused, Cora began fashioning the portal and drawing out the sigils in her mind, forming the wedge that would pierce the veil as energy both dark red and aurora began to wheel around her. In these next hours, her mind would need to be as one, her pact and the power of the blade would need to be as one.

OOC: losing 2 hp

Fergus followed silently into Kinak's lair, observing in the obsidian mirror his brothers in Gruundelheim preparing for the oncoming attack. Based on what he had seen of the kingdom previously, he didn't like their chances. Brigha's deceptions were formidable, but in the end, what good would her schemes do against Kinak himself?

He took some solace in the strength of their new Quinchiat allies (if that's what they were, Fergus still wondered). As condescending as she was, Quenya was obviously powerful and he hoped that might even the odds.

As Cora began her work on the portal, Fergus relaxed, relieved to finally be leaving the spiritrealm. "It will be good to leave this place," he murmured. "At least if we die on the other side, our souls have a chance of going where they should." In his heart, he still knew the risks. Death in the upcoming battle, regardless of its location, still held with it the likelihood of souls being devoured by qiqion or some other shadow.

His thoughts drifted to his beloved wife, waiting for him in the afterlife. The idea of her already waiting for him there had previously dissolved any fears he had about death. But now, after walking through this land of lost souls, he realized there were no guarantees. "Darna, I don't know if you can hear me in this dark place, but if you can, I hope to see you soon. And if I don't... if some shadow monster eats me and sends my soul back to this dreadful realm... know that it will never give up fighting to find you. One day I will reach the Golden Gate, so save a chair for your old Fergus."

Then, as a whispered afterthought. "Oh, and I suppose there's a slight chance I won't reach the Gates immediately because we actually survive the upcoming battle. Well, either way, save me a chair."

Fergus felt a flash of pride as he looked upon Gruundelheim's defenses. The process by which they had arrived there had been an ugly one, pitting dwarf against dwarf and questionable alliances with the Guthluthic orcs and with the chaotic god of fire, but his people were as ready as any could be for an orcish assault. They had fortified walls, forged arrows and blades, and trained their soldiers to hold their positions even in the face of certain death. Even if the ancient kingdom eventually fell, the dwarves would buy badly needed time for Kinak's other enemies and deplete the storm god's resources.

Adir Blackhammer walked the lines, shouting encouragement to the soldiers. He looked every bit the part of the legendary dwarven general; there was no hint of the unseen orcish woman pulling his strings.

This was not Adir's fight. He had risen to power upon the promise of ending the cooperation with Franconia that had drawn the ire of Garduk, and of Kinak. But it was too late for that now, and even he was ready to fight for his people and their land.

You'd have to be crazy to assault that fortress, Fergus thought to himself with a smile. But the smile faded as he considered the implications of that. This was Kinak's mirror, after all; the god had seen all that Fergus could see now. He knew the preparations Gruundelheim was making, how the dwarves and the Guthluthic orcs had marshalled their forces there. And he was not crazy.

Garduk's forces were marching south with an evil wind at their backs, but there were other ways to exact vengeance upon the dwarves than to assault the mighty fortress of Gruundelheim. After all, it had been his homeland of Knutsdir that had cooperated most directly with the Francos at Lawton's Glen. It was his homeland that now stood relatively defenseless compared to the dwarven kingdom. Only a wooden palisade and a gaggle of ruffians defended the Franco outpost beneath which Knutsdir was located...

"Do you suppose we could turn it?" Arvid asked the room at large, but not so loud as to disturb Cora in her work. "The mirror, I mean. Can it show us other vistas across the North?"

"They're not going to Gruundelheim," Fergus announced, still staring at the preparations Blackhammer was making at the underground kingdom. His stomach knotted at the only logical conclusion. "Knutsdir. They're going to march on Knutsdir. It's nowhere near as well defended and they could wipe out the Francos in Lawtons Glen just as easily.


"Maybe we could, but I have no idea how it works." He looked frantically to Quenya. "Do you?"

15:54, Today: Secret Roll: Fergus Glowforge rolled 10 using 1d20+1.  Investigation. How does this @#$! mirror work?

"I can try," Quenya said, with the most respect she'd used when speaking to anyone since her arrival. She held out a hand, its skin thin to the point of translucence, and image on the surface of the stone began to shimmer and warp. Then it went dark altogether and the elven woman staggered back and was caught by her male companion, whom she had not introduced.

"Never mind," she huffed. "It's not important. Let's get going."

She nodded her approval when Cora opened the portal and was the first to step through.

<Orange>DC was 20. I assumed someone would Help her. Still couldn't quite get there :-(
Quenya Oori rolled 19 using 2d20+9, dropping the lowest dice only.  arcana.

In happier news, everyone can level up to 10! That's not a typo, you're gaining two levels. I figure it will be more fun to play out the climax of our adventure at a higher tier. And you can take a long rest as well.

If there's anything anyone else wanted to do while still in Kinak's lair, you can post that here. I'll start a new thread for when you're back in the Mortal Realm.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:39, Sun 24 July 2022.

As Quenya attempted to adjust the mirror, Fergus could feel his heart racing. The thought of Kinak advancing on Knutsdir and Lawton's Glen troubled him greatly.

With the last of his spiritual strength, he tried to reach out to the material plane. There were few left there whom he trusted to any length. But maybe if he got word to someone, they could shore up the village's paltry defenses to hold for a few more hours. But who would trust the ramblings of an silly old dwarf and still have the stature to be listened to? He could only think of one person. Hopefully she was still there.

"Grina Jawbreaker, It's Fergus. I bring warning of Garduk. He marches southward across the Frozen Wastes toward Lawtons's Glen. Hold fast. We are bringing help."

Cast Sending to warn Grina of the advancing army: You send a short message of twenty-five words or less to a creature with which you are familiar. The creature hears the message in its mind, recognizes you as the sender if it knows you, and can answer in a like manner immediately. The spell enables creatures with Intelligence scores of at least 1 to understand the meaning of your message.

00:01, Today: Secret Roll: Fergus Glowforge rolled 54 using 1d100.  5% chance of interdimensional Sending failing (say 1 - 5 on d100).
This message was last edited by the player at 05:16, Wed 27 July 2022.

"Fuck's sake, what am I supposed to hold fast with, my dishwasher and the local drunks?" came Grina's inelegant reply. Fergus knew her well enough to recognize the gratitude behind her ill-tempered bluster. If it could be taken care of, Grina would take care of it.