Sunlight filters through the shattered stained glass of the derelict sanctuary, casting jagged patterns of blue and gold across the stone floor. Thava Tymont stirs, his muscles screaming in protest as he shifts on the moth-eaten cot.
Thava Tymont
The smell of ozone and wet rot… the ambush, the betrayal, it all feels like a lifetime ago.
Oswald
You are finally among the living, little dragon.
An elderly man with thinning white hair and ink-stained fingers enters the nave, balancing a wooden basin of steaming water. He stops, his brow furrowing as he watches Thava’s hand drift instinctively toward the pommel of the notched blade leaning against the crate beside him.
Oswald
Steady your heart, soldier. You have been unconscious for three days, and the city watch is the least of your concerns in this district. There are men asking questions about a survivor of the mercenary slaughter.
Thava Tymont
Does he mean to turn me in, or is this a warning?
Oswald sets the basin down with a heavy thud, his eyes hard and expectant.
Oswald
Who are you running from, and how much gold is your head worth?
+ Scene Quest Added
Identify the source of the mercenary slaughter inquiry
“I tell him "my troop leader sold us all out to the crown. We found a secret they want buried and theyre willing to kill us all to hide it"”
FAILURE (Poor Persuasion, rolled +0)
Thava Tymont
My captain sold us out to the crown. We found a secret they want buried, and they are willing to kill us all to hide it.
Thava’s voice cracks, his throat raw from three days of thirst and the strain of his injuries. As the words leave his lips, he realizes too late that the flickering candlelight reflects not sympathy in Oswald’s eyes, but a cold, predatory recognition.
Brynne
The crown? You foolish, broken thing.
The old man spits on the sanctuary floor, his posture shifting from helpful servant to something far more lethal. He reaches into the folds of his robes, his hand closing around a concealed iron rod.
Brynne
I am not interested in your heroics or your martyr complex. I am interested in the price the magistrate promised for your head.
Thava Tymont
I’ve walked straight into a trap. He isn’t a savior. He’s a bounty hunter.
Oswald lunges, the iron rod whistling through the air toward Thava’s ribs.
+ Scene Quest Added
Survive the bounty hunter's attack
“Dodge to the left. Roll on the ground and sweep his legs. Then pin him down”
Missed — Oswald struck back for 5 damage
Thava Tymont
Not today, you vulture!
Thava lunges, his muscles screaming in protest as he attempts to pivot and sweep the old man’s legs. His heavy boots scrape uselessly against the debris, missing the mark as his fatigue turns the movement into a clumsy stumble. Oswald barely flinches, stepping easily to the side with a serpentine grace that betrays his frail appearance.
Brynne
Such desperation. It makes you slow.
With a grunt of exertion, the old man brings the iron rod down in a vicious, heavy arc. The metal connects with the soft tissue of Thava’s shoulder and neck, a blinding flash of white pain erupting through his nerves. Thava crumples, his world tilting sideways as the hard stone of the sanctuary floor rushes up to meet his vision. Darkness encroaches, pulling the ruined sanctuary into a suffocating, soundless abyss.
Thava Tymont
Everything is fading. I failed.