Ironsworn Actual Play Chapter 1
The start of a new investigation...
Welcome to the first Chapter of my Ironsworn adventure. Be sure to check out the intro here…
Backstory
The tale of Talia Hawkstone begins as another is on the wane. Mikko Brannen has called the Hinterlands his domain, his responsibility for many years. He bears the title of Warden, member of the Reach Keepers, and Ironsworn. How official his title is matters not to those he protects, for where travellers from the rest of the Ironlands are scarce, his presence has become known as a comfort to the people. They see his red cloak and they feel that his sword arm belongs to them, for if their cause is just he will fight for them.
One of his earliest vows was to protect the people of Hawkstone. The small community needed a man of arms to help, but not even the Warden could defeat an entire tribe of the Broken; settlers of these lands who have now succumbed to violence and madness. He led an assault, but was tricked while the main force desolated the village to ruin. He wandered the broken homes, tears in his eyes as he sought to unleash his anger on any Broken he saw until he could lift his sword no more. But a child's cry stopped his vow of revenge. Hidden away he found Talia, only 7 years old. His original vow was unfinished, so he took the child with him on his travels.
She wasn't the traditional apprentice for a Warden, the white streak in her red hair a sign that she had a touch of the Wyrd about her. An elder in Snowhaven confirmed that Talia was a Wyrdbinder, specifically what they called a Whisperer who could hear the voices of spirits that had passed on. Nonetheless Mikko couldn't part with the girl, and as they travelled he ensured that she had the skills to survive the harsh living of the Hinterlands. He schooled her in the art of the sword and bow, of tracking and of his trade of seeking out injustices and swearing vows to the people so they knew that even out here the rule of law still mattered. She may have been of slight frame but he saw Talia grow a wiry strength and will as she stuck with the Warden. When she was 15 they took a contract to dispatch a woodland creature that had been slaughtering goats at night. Mikko and Talia tracked and set a trap for the monster, discovering a Wyvern trapped and bleeding out on the trap. Not even Mikko could determine what breed it truly was, but tracing it's movements they discovered a hidden nest. Talia peered in and saw a glistening egg, and against Mikko's advice reached out to touch it. The egg cracked and opened to reveal a baby wyvern. The monster looked into Talia's eyes and seemed to recognize her, imprinting on the girl as its mother. Mikko had his doubts but the creature though small was fierce and surprisingly loyal. Talia named it Chikkar and did her best to train the beast. She's endured some scared looks and a few scratches but she has the motherly bond with the creature to rely on, as well as a few trained whistles and a short whip to fall back on. On Mikko's insistence she also has acquired a chain collar and a muzzle for when they must move through populated settlements.
The two Ironsworn and the wyvern make an odd group, but in the frozen lands they are a lifeline for many. Talia has seen her 20th winter, and is becoming less of an apprentice and more of a partner. Mikko is starting to feel the ache in his bones, his sword arm is not quite as strong as it once was. He has a father's pride for his ward, but still isn't sure that the life he chose for himself is all that he wants for Talia. And dark rumours abound of the worst kind of betrayal to his vow: a corrupt Warden. Mikko doesn't know if he has the strength to bring down this affront to his order. Perhaps it won't take a Warden at all, but something more. Something like Talia Hawkstone.
Departing from Snowhaven…
Talia looked back at the wooden palisade of Snowhaven, the closest thing she had to a home. She always felt a slight regret at venturing past the protection of their gates and the warmth of their fires. Her leathers were lined with fur and her new boots seemed to fit well enough as she walked along the impacted cold earth of the road that led out from the settlement. There was a wind, with flecks of snow hitting her face. Talia wrapped her cloak around to cover her head, feeling her warm breath across her skin.
"The trees will shelter us from the weather, we should pick up the pace." The words from Mikko made Talia quicken her step without thinking, a habit from a lifetime of obeying her master. She saw him walking, his heavier armour as well as the pack that contained dry firewood making no difference to his stride. But Talia had noticed this enthusiasm wane the longer that they were away from the settlements of the Hinterlands, and she worried he was pushing himself too far.
"Did the Overseer give you directions to Ragnar's body?" She fell into step beside him, while Chikkar bounded ahead. The Wyvern showed no sign of discomfort in the cold and kept sniffing for rabbit burrows. He'd have better luck at dinner in the forest she was sure.
"He did. He said the same as the Master Trapper. They found Ragnar torn apart by a beast, but heard no sound of the attack. Word for word they said the same."
"That's suspicious."
"Aye. What else Hawkstone?"
"They brought nothing back. No trinket for Ragnar's widow. Not even his pack or hunting knife. Trappers in the forest would at least have salvaged his gear."
"You're learning well." Mikko's compliment was short but warming to her. "Don't assume anything, but be prepared to take the investigation anywhere. We need to find the site where Ragnar drew his last breath. Then we might know what we'll be fighting..."
The forest beckoned them on, it's tall trees and packed snow giving them no clue as to what they faced.
Author Note: Bold Italics will be my thoughts and reactions tot he story and the dice rolls. So far I have my characters established and a few bonds. The vow Talia is pursuing is an investigation of a dead body, something that should suit her skillset very well. Departing from the town there’s the image of snowy forest and a journey to be made. There are rolls for this so let’s see how they fare…
Move: Undertake a Journey, +1 for starting from Snowhaven. Dice: 1d6+Wits+1= 5 Challenge Dice = 2, 10 Result: Weak Hit
Oracle Percentile Roll: Action = 45 … Seize
Oracle Percentile Roll: Theme = 27 … Creation
After several hours the trees thinned slightly as the pair of them came across a camp. It was old, based on the weathering of the stones and the faded moss of the tree stumps that were now etched with frost. There was a stillness that made Talia shudder. She gripped her bow in her hand, ready to shoot game or foe but felt her knuckles turn white as she saw the place.
"Broken." The word came from her lips as she saw the skulls, the strange arrangement that would have not crossed the minds of any Ironlanders. She looked about the treeline, as if expecting to see their wild faces emerge, those white eyes focused on spilling her blood. But there was only silence.
"It's abandoned. Has been for years." Mikko stepped over the small wall and dropped his pack. With a branch he poked inside the stone cairn to clear some space and threw in a piece of dry firewood. "We'll have a better chance of fire here than anywhere else we find." Talia took her tinderbox and set to work, using the dry wood and a few of the older branches that would dry and catch later so to preserve their supply. A few skulls looked up at her, mostly animal but there was no mistaking the odd human skull scattered about, many of them missing teeth.
"Do their ghosts bother you?" The question from Mikko showed some genuine concern, and Talia couldn't help but smile at his worry, and also his ignorance. Her master had been her rock, so knowledgeable about the world. As she'd grown older and sought to harness her abilities, guided by the wise woman of Snowhaven she discovered that this mysticism was something Mikko knew nothing of, and here she was the teacher.
"No, it's alright," she assured him. "They make barely a whisper, maybe one last breath that is snatched away. I've only been able to speak with one recently parted, and even then I need to observe the rituals." Talking of magic while surrounded by these strange symbols seemed to make Mikko uneasy, as he sat close to the fire warming his hands.
"A Warden shouldn't rely on such Wyrdness. Strength of will to root out the guilty, and strength of arm to bring them to Justice. That will not fail you.”
"I'm still an Apprentice, sir. And it's part of who I am." Talia brushes the white streak in her hair as she speaks. "The feeling doesn't go away if I ignore it. There are folks who passed on without able to say something, one last request of what mattered to them. It has helped us before, allowed us to find the guilty from the lips of the deceased."
"We must not make it a crutch. If you open a door to that world, you may allow something to pass through that my sword cannot slay." Mikko's words were cautionary, but to Talia they sounded foolish. She'd never before felt any such danger exploring her powers, but she knew better than to fight him on this. She nodded and tended the fire some more. She wondered if it was their surroundings that had him on edge. She knew the stories, not from Mikko but from the people of Snowhaven when they had muttered while they thought she wasn't listening. Her family, her people butchered by the Broken all those years ago. She carried the name Hawkstone, the place she was from, a place that had been burned and wiped clean from the world. Mikko never talked of it, and her memories were a jumble of darkness, of soot and blood and the screams of the dying. But she was well aware that while Mikko remained stoic when delivering Justice to mere men who had strayed from the law, when he must draw his sword against the Broken it was done with anger in his heart. Talia wondered why she didn't feel the same, after all they had taken everything from her. She felt fear of the Broken, the savagery in human form that lacked everything she found warm about mankind. But sitting here she imagined them sharing a meal, sitting around their fire. It was strange.
They talked little more, taking advantage of the warmth. Talia knew they would move on, for Mikko would not deign to sleep amidst these stones. They'd make for another site before night fell. One with less comforts, but also less memories.
The most common result is a Weak Hit, so there’s success but not unmitigated. A waypoint was reached and progress made, but their supplies dwindle slightly. I used the Oracle table to give me some ideas for what this waypoint looked like. Adding up the prompt and the loss of supplies I came up with an abandoned camp of the Broken, the most likely to have a place and abandon it. By using it for themselves you could say it’s seized, and they used some firewood to do so.
Move: Undertake a Journey. Dice: 1d6+Wits+0= 5 Challenge Dice = 4, 3 Result: Strong Hit
Oracle Percentile Roll: Action = 43 … Explore
Oracle Percentile Roll: Theme = 70 … Destiny
Ask the Oracle: Is there danger here? Odds: 50/50. Result = No
Now a Strong Hit! This is good progress towards a goal. I was itching for a confrontation at this point, so aside from the Oracle prompt I asked if there was danger. Not this time. I figured it was time to look a little deeper into the relationship between Talia and Mikko
As the sun dipped low in the forest, with the thick fog the only sign was the haze growing darker. Their shelter was in place, a lean-to of leaves to keep out the wind and camouflage them from wild beasts. Such meager comforts were common to them travelling throughout the Hinterlands, and Talia was accustomed to it. With their provisions stored and Chikkar off to hunt for his dinner, she went through her drills.
The sword in her hand was not the largest, nothing compared to Mikko's heavy blade. It had been chosen for her size, and it afforded her a swift strike with enough power behind it to pierce flesh and some armour. She moved through various guard positions, her feet sure footed even on the uneven and snowy ground. Her breath steamed in the air as she made cuts and strikes, parries and blocks to invisible foes in a practice that she had done for years. From inside their shelter, Mikko watched on, chewing on some trail bread.
"What is the Warden's Oath?"
Talia focused and recites Mikko's litany, the words coming so familiar to her, a lesson that had been drilled into her as much as the way of the sword.
"A Warden is sworn to service
His body is sworn to the First City
His arm is sworn to the weak
His eyes are sworn to the truth
His words are sworn to Justice
His blade is sworn on the blood of the wicked
His iron is sworn on behalf of all men
His tears are sworn when men falter
His life is sworn when Hope needs a shield"
Mikko watched on, his expression giving nothing away. Talia had sometimes wondered if all Wardens were like her master, for they had never come across another save in the distance. When they heard a Warden was in a settlement Mikko passed it by, saying that two Wardens in a town was a waste when so many needed them in other places. Talia's mind wandered to the city of Landfall, the place that had given Mikko his authority that she had heard so much about but never seen. She could scarcely imagine a city manned by hundreds of Mikkos, men of valor, in the south where the summers were long. It seemed like a dream some days.
"Would you take me to Landfall?" Her question caused him to look up, as she turned to face him. "When I take the Oath before the First City Marshal. Would you take me or must I travel alone?"
Mikko said nothing for what seemed like an eternity, his gaze never faltering from his ward. He finally leaned back, his speech cutting through the chill air.
"You are still young Hawkstone. You have not a man's strength, so you must have twice his speed, twice his wits. They will not see your gift as a boon, but a strangeness that they cannot fathom. When you stand before the men of the First City and all they see are weaknesses, you must be ready to dazzle them with enough prowess that will sweep aside all doubts. I would not send you away unless you would succeed beyond all doubt.”
He paused.
"You aren't ready."
He could see her heart sink, the frustration that she had worn on her face for years as the answer remained unchanged. Mikko looked carefully at Talia and spoke softly.
"You know there are Ironsworn who do not carry the title of Warden. You have aided me well for some time, and you could do good for these people even without setting foot in the First City. What I'm asking is... Is this truly what you want?"
Talia felt the sword heavy in her hand as she lowered it and looked at her master. "Of course it is. It's everything you trained me for, the only thing I wanted. I just want to be like you!" She sheathed her blade and turned, grabbing a small log and hefting it over her shoulders. She didn't look back but started to walk in long strides away from the camp, an exercise Mikko had taught her long ago to strengthen her legs, trying to show him her resolve. Mikko sat back and shook his head, looking at his apprentice moving away, still seeking his approval.
"You're not like me," he whispered into the wind. "You could be more.”
Thank you for reading! There will be more of Talia’s journey coming up, when her luck starts to be severely tested as well as the people she has learnt to rely on.
Chapter 2 is now live and can be found here
Ironsworn Actual Play Chapter 2
Welcome back to another Ironsworn instalment! If you wish to focus on the story and not the mechanics and twists that influenced me, then just gloss over any quotes or texts in bold italics like this one. I give fair warning this has a lot more dice rolling than last time as things quickly spiralled.
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Your story telling has created vivid imagery and context without the need of exposition. A wonderful read ... please continue!