Chapter 8: Gideon's Reach

Session 8 of my solo Cairn campaign

Sep 04, 2024

Welcome back to my solo Cairn campaign!
Last session, Ralund fled the bewitched boy Rit and his dying mother Talwa. He ran all night until finally escaping the woods and arriving at Gideon’s Reach.
After such a harrowing trek, it felt like Ralund had earned an advancement. In Cairn, advancements are new powers or abilities derived from the narrative. In that way, they’re unique to each character’s growth; not schemed to growing a character.
In The Wenderweald, witchcraft is almost contagious. And since Ralund gave up his protective totem in Chapter 6, I decided his encounters with the witches infected him with a new power I’m calling “Hex-eye” in his honor (perhaps dishonor?)
Ralund can now sense witches and witchcraft, but everyone else can sense that about him. They can’t always explain it — they may not even be congnizant of it — but folks know something is off about Ralund.
With that decided, I rolled to set up the opening scene and began.
Session Theme: “Ethereal” & “Coven”
Weather: Grey & Grim
Random event: none

Gideon’s palisade wall glowered over Ralund like grey teeth. As he limped up the road to the gatehouse, he could feel the archers watching him perched up in their spiked towers along the earthworks. Ralund didn’t care. The smell of cookfires was too enticing. The animal heat rising over the walls was all he cared about. Warmth. Walls. And a chance — an hour to be out of the fucking rain.

He limped on as fast as his swollen ankle would carry him until he reached the dropped wooden portcullis.

Game Notes
How do the guards react to Ralund? Wary
I rolled up an NPC for our captain of the gate — Qity — and carried on with the scene.

On the other side of the portcullis, the fur-clad gate captain gnawed at her rasher of bacon, disinterested. She approached the heavy oak bars just as Ralund did and greeted him with all the kindness of a wet rock.

“You look bad, old man,” she said. She spit out a wad of gristle before sinking her teeth in the rasher again. “Where is it you come from?”

Ralund leaned against the bars and stared hard at the captain through the slats. She ripped away another mouthful of bacon.

He eyed the stag crest on her gambeson. Knights of The Supernal Stag. Witch hunters. God-botherers. Murderers.

“The Weald,” he hissed.

“Bad place to be — especially for an old man. What’s your name?”

“Steeleye." The word felt strange in his mouth. Not a lie. But a farce and poorly rehearsed. She seemed to agree. She scoffed and the unseen guards above stifled their laughter too.

“Your real name, old man. If I need to go looking for you, I can’t call on ‘Steeleye Bane of Witches.’” The guards laughed openly at that.

“Ralund then.”

“That’s better, Ralund of The Wealds.”

Game Notes
Oracle: Will Qity let Ralund into town? Yes, but…
Ralund ain’t getting in with weapons, that’s for sure.

“Look, if you need to search me, fucking do it, but I’ve got no coin and no patience for—”

“—easy, old man,” she said, cutting him off dismissively. “We’re not thieves. We’ve been getting unsettling news from The Wealds, is all. Folks come back strange and bewitched if they come back at all.”

“You don’t say.”

“Aye. And we’ve been taking care to know who gets into The Reach and who doesn’t.”

“Very wise, I’m sure.”

“Do you know anyone in town, Ralund of The Weald? Anyone who’d speak for you? Anyone who we could find should you find trouble.”

Game Notes
Oracle: Does Ralund know anyone in town? Yes, but…
Yes…but he’s not going to tell witchhunters. To me, that means he knows more witches in town…

“No.”

“No weapons then,” she said, nodding at Ralund’s bow. Ralund didn’t much care anymore. It wasn’t his bow and too heavy of a draw anyhow. He didn’t need a bow as much as he needed to sleep — really sleep — in a proper bed, under a roof, and behind a locked door.

“Fine.” Ralund slotted the bow and quiver through the bars to the captain. She took them and wedged them under her arm. Then she stood and waited for the rest of his weapons with an expectant raised eyebrow.

“Knives too, old man.” She kicked the portcullis with her boot to emphasize her point. “Let’s go.”

That wouldn’t do. Ralund slept with a knife — he took a knife to the privy. And this knife was a Marchguard blade. He wasn’t meant to have that. There’d be questions. And The Stag Knights knew how to get the answers they wanted.

“And what if I need to defend myself in town?”

The captain set the bow and quiver against the gate and leaned against the bars close enough that he could smell the bacon on her breath.

“Look, I don’t know you, Ralund. And you say yourself no one else knows you here. Think you were me: a stranger comes from them woods full of witches and he’s sheepish about who he is and giving over his weapons like everyone else. Are you letting that stranger into your house, Ralund?”

The last stranger he met did just that. And he left her and her boy to die out there. They’d haunt his bones forever, he knew.

Ralund had no choice if he wanted in. And he needed to get inside. He unhitched the sheath from his belt and slotted it through the bars too.

She took the knife, wadded the last of her bacon into her mouth, and backed away from the portcullis. The captain wheeled her hand around silently to signal the guards above, and the portcullis began to rise ponderously.

Ralund walked beneath it before it finished rising. He brushed past the gate captain and kept walking. The captain called after him.

“Welcome to The Reach, Ralund Steeleye!” she shouted. He could hear the other guards laughing. He ignored them and stumbled up the dusty street, following the smells of fresh bread and warm beer.

Game Notes
Oracle: Can Qity sense Ralund’s Hex-eye? Extreme yes…
This keeps getting better and better.

Captain Qity watched the old man — Ralund of The Weald — saunter up the road until he banked right around The Chandler’s shop. She knew well he was off just as the others had been.

Sergeant Gern descended from the gatehouse to join her. He sloshed in his chainmail like a half-empty barrel of wine and noted the dagger in the captain’s hand.

“That’s a Marchguard dagger, captain.”

“Aye, Sergeant.” Qity patted the flat of the blade against her palm, thinking about what to do next. How best to stalk this new witch without unsettling him. Witches went strange when pressed, she knew. We don’t need another blood moon incident, she thought.

“You think he stole it?” Gern asked.

“Maybe,” Qity said. Might be he killed a Marchguard and took it. Might be they rounded up another batch of witches to hand over to us and this one got loose. But why come here then?

Game Notes
Oracle Does Qity follow Ralund Yes, but…
Qity is smart enough to know not to attack a witch in the open. She’ll have to be careful about this.

“You want us to follow him, captain?”

Qity handed Gern the old man’s blade, bow, and quiver.

“I’ll do it myself,” she said.

Ending the session

We’ve finally arrived — Gideon’s Reach! When I began this project, I started with this town with scant but compelling details I wanted to explore.
I based this town on a smattering of historical sources with some dark fantasy embelishments.
Here’s the town map