Snow grinds beneath Aeva’s boots as she reaches the serf’s hovel. A saintly nun braces the door from within, her white veil stark against the winter dusk.
the leading retainer
Open in the lord’s name. We seek the man hidden there, and no churchwoman will bar lawful entry.
the nun
Lawful? Your feud with the church has outlived too many graves. Let this end before another death is laid upon the wrong side.
The retainers’ horses stamp and snort in the cold. Inside, someone shifts beneath a rough blanket, followed by a muffled breath and the scrape of straw.
the leading retainer
You there, shieldmaiden. Stand aside. This quarrel is between the lord and the church, unless you choose to make it yours.
the nun
Do not mistake obedience for justice, child. The wounded soul within needs shelter, not another man’s warrant.
✓ Quest Accepted
Learn the hidden man's account
✓ Quest Accepted
Reveal the truth behind the feud
“Can the hidden man speak safely from within?”
NO, AND WORSE (Unlikely, rolled 100)
A violent coughing fit breaks from beneath the blanket, then stops in a strangled gasp. The nun’s face tightens as dark smoke curls beneath the door.
the nun
The hearth has caught. Stand back, all of you. He cannot speak, and now he cannot remain inside.
Flames lick along the thatch above the hovel. The retainers’ horses rear against their reins, while sparks scatter across the snow.
the leading retainer
Break the door, or the man burns with the churchwoman. Shieldmaiden, choose quickly, before this roof comes down.
the nun
Aeva, if you have any mercy, help me draw him clear. He is too weak to stand, and the smoke worsens.
A muffled body shifts within, followed by a dull collapse. Smoke thickens around the door, turning the hovel’s small windows black.
“I help the nun drag him clear”
SUCCESS (Fair Strength, rolled +0)
Aeva pushes through the smoke beside the nun. Together they seize the wounded man beneath his shoulders and drag him across the threshold into the snow.
The blanket snags on a broken plank, but Aeva wrenches it free and hauls him beyond the falling sparks. Heat scorches her left palm through the cloth.
the nun
Set him down here. Keep his face to the clean air. You have saved him from the fire.
The man lies clear of the hovel, coughing weakly as the nun turns him onto his side. His breathing remains ragged, but smoke no longer fills his lungs.
the leading retainer
You defy my order, shieldmaiden, and put your hands on the church’s fugitive. Now answer for him.
Behind them, the thatch collapses inward with a roar. The horses pull hard at their reins, while snow smothers a few sparks near Aeva’s boots.
the nun
He lives because she acted. If your lord wants him, let him face a witness who has seen this mercy.
“I bargain with the retainer for testimony”
FAILURE (Fair Willpower, rolled +1)
Aeva
I saved your fugitive from the fire. Give testimony that I acted to preserve his life, and I will answer before your lord.
The retainer studies Aeva’s scorched palm, then the coughing man in the snow. Behind him, the ruined hovel settles into smoking embers.
the leading retainer
You bargain from a weak hand. I will not swear that the church’s man should be sheltered, nor trade my lord’s warrant for your favor.
the nun
Yet you saw her pull him clear. Deny that, and your own men become liars beside you.
the leading retainer
I saw it. My men saw it. I will record that she rescued him from the burning house, but not call it lawful protection.
He draws a wax tablet from his saddlebag and scratches the account while the horses stamp uneasily. The promised testimony is narrower than Aeva sought, but bears his mark.
the leading retainer
Take this before the lord’s clerk if you dare. It may spare you punishment, though it will not spare the fugitive.
“Is the retainer’s tablet enough to sway the lord?”
NO, BUT (Unlikely, rolled 42)
The retainer’s tablet bears his mark, but the lord’s clerk barely glances at it before setting it aside beside the dying fire.
the leading retainer
A rescue is not a pardon. My lord will still claim the fugitive, and this account will not change that.
the nun
Then the tablet has failed its first purpose. Yet it names witnesses, and witnesses may still carry truth farther than a sealed warrant.
The wounded man’s coughing eases enough for him to breathe. Beneath his blanket, the nun finds a small iron clasp stamped with the northern clans’ mark.
the nun
This was sewn into his coat. He came from the north road, and the brothers’ caravan passed there three days ago.
the leading retainer
Take your rescued man and your church witness if you wish. But if you seek your kin, question the charcoal burners at the north road. They saw every traveler.
“I demand the fugitive speak before witnesses”
FAILURE (Fair Willpower, rolled +1)
Aeva
Speak before these witnesses. Tell them who you are and why the lord seeks you.
The nun kneels beside the fugitive and draws the blanket from his mouth. He tries to answer, but the effort breaks into a harsh coughing fit.
the fugitive
North... road... not thief...
His breath fails before he can say more. The nun steadies his shoulders while the retainer raises his wax tablet, prepared to mark the few words.
the nun
He cannot give a full account yet. But he names the road, and the clasp bears the clans’ mark. The charcoal burners may know the rest.
the leading retainer
I will record exactly this: he claims the north road and denies being a thief. Nothing beyond it.
The demand wins no confession, but the fugitive’s first words narrow the trail. The north road now offers a living account where his failing voice cannot.
“I question the charcoal burners on the north road”
SUCCESS (Fair Reasoning, rolled +3)
By late morning, Aeva reaches the north road, where three charcoal burners tend smoking mounds beneath a stand of blackened pines. Their faces are streaked with ash.
Aeva
Aeva asks what travelers they saw on this road three days ago, especially any northern clansmen or a wounded man.
the charcoal burners
A wagon came through at first light, heading north. Two riders guarded it, and a third man walked behind with his hands bound.
The oldest burner wipes his palms on his apron and points along the rutted track. Meltwater glitters in the hoofprints, still dark against the snow.
the charcoal burners
The bound man wore a northern clasp at his throat. He stumbled often, and one rider called him a thief. They turned east at the old stone bridge.
the charcoal burners
the charcoal burners: Their wagon bore no lord’s colors, but the guards carried long ash spears. One had a red scarf and a scar across his cheek.
The charcoal burners’ account gives Aeva a clear direction and recognizable signs. Beyond the pines, the north road forks toward the old stone bridge.
