Eldjhartað reaches a serf’s hovel as winter wind drives snow across the yard. Inside, overturned stools and scattered straw mark the uprising’s passage from cramped room to open cold.
A thin, elderly woman scholar stands apart near the threshold, wrapped in a patched black cloak. Her gray braid hangs beside a narrow, weathered face, and an iron-sealed book lies open at her boots.
the scholar
They rose because something dark came among them. I only showed them what was already here.
The serfs do not gather around her. A broad-shouldered middle-aged man grips a wood axe, while a young woman in a torn brown dress pulls a child behind the well.
the serf leader
Keep your distance, scholar. Your warnings brought no bread, and your book has brought worse.
the scholar
Not the door. Not the snow. One of them has already heard it answer.
The open pages stir without wind. Beneath the muttering crowd, a careful scrape sounds from within the hovel, and several serfs turn toward Eldjhartað in sudden silence.
✓ Quest Accepted
Discover what dark presence came among the serfs
✓ Quest Accepted
Seek the surrounding presence
Director's note
He moves towards the crowd not knowing what’s going on but the words he just heard.
““Sorry, I just came from a long stretch. I’m tired and was hoping there was an inn.””
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +1)
Eldjhartað Logison
Sorry. I have just come through a long stretch. I am tired and was hoping there was an inn.
Eldjhartað moves toward the gathered serfs, boots pressing into the snow. Their wary attention shifts from the hovel to the tall, red-haired traveler among them.
the serf leader
No inn here. The nearest is in the timber town, a hard walk east along the old road.
the scholar
There is a roof nearer than that, if you dare call it shelter. The abandoned watchhouse stands beyond the alder field.
The scholar closes one hand over the iron-sealed book. From inside the hovel, the careful scraping stops, leaving only wind and the child’s muffled breathing.
the serf leader
Take the watchhouse, then. It has a hearth, though no fire. Keep clear of this place until morning.
the scholar
He heard the answer in the house. Now the house has heard him.
Director's note
He thinks on the inn and then on the abandoned watchhouse.
““Why is it abandoned? Did something happen?””
FAILURE (Mediocre Reasoning, rolled -3)
Eldjhartað Logison
Why is it abandoned? Did something happen there?
the serf leader
The watchhouse was not abandoned by choice. Its keeper left one winter morning, and the next man would not sleep beneath its roof.
The serf leader’s axe lowers slightly, but his eyes remain fixed on the hovel. Behind him, the young woman draws the child, a small human boy in a patched brown tunic and wool trousers, with tousled dark hair, a round freckled face, and a missing front tooth farther from the doorway.
the scholar
Ask what happened, and you will hear three answers. Ask who left, and no tongue here will name him.
The iron-sealed book snaps open in the scholar’s grasp. Its pages turn to a marked passage, while the scrape inside the hovel begins again, slower than before.
the serf leader
Do not question us about that place again tonight. Go there, or do not, but this house must be left alone.
The serfs close ranks around the hovel, ending the conversation. The old road east and the alder field west lie open beneath the falling snow.
Director's note
He moves towards the watchhouse however not without being near the hovel they surround to see what really is going on.
Eldjhartað turns from the old road and crosses toward the ring of serfs, keeping the abandoned watchhouse in sight beyond the alder field.
He stops near the hovel’s wall, close enough to hear through the warped boards. Snow gathers on his red locks as he studies the shuttered doorway and the gathered faces.
Eldjhartað Logison
The scraping comes from inside, not from the door.
the serf leader
I told you to keep clear. Whatever waits in there is not worth drawing nearer.
The scrape travels along the inner wall, deliberate and dry. Straw trembles beneath the threshold, though no hand or foot appears in the gap.
the scholar
It is listening for the town. If it finds a road, the watchhouse will not be the only empty shelter.
Eldjhartað leaves the hovel without entering or disturbing the serfs. He crosses toward the alder field, boots sinking through snow as the roofless watchhouse waits beyond the trees.
Director's note
He enters the watchhouse and immediately starts searching it for any clues of what’s going on in this strange place.
The alder branches claw at his cloak as Eldjhartað reaches the roofless watchhouse. Its low stone walls hunch beneath snow, and a warped door hangs open on rusted hinges.
Eldjhartað Logison
The hearth has been cold for longer than one winter.
He enters beneath the sagging lintel and searches methodically. Broken rafters, a stone hearth, and a narrow sleeping platform offer no immediate shelter, only dust and frozen leaves.
Near the hearth, his hand finds a shallow groove cut across the floor stones. It circles the ash pit, then breaks toward the eastern wall.
Snow sifts through the missing roof. Beneath it, old boot marks overlap one another, but a cleaner trail begins at the groove and ends before the wall.
the scholar
Do not mistake an empty room for a safe one.
Her voice carries faintly from the alder field, beyond the hovel and the ring of serfs. In the watchhouse, something taps once beneath the floor, answering from below.
Director's note
He looks at her, his berserk tendencies surfacing an unbridled rage. He grabs the old woman by the collar.
““Speak true, no riddles. I’ll break you if you don’t. What’s going on here you seem to know more then you lead on, i hope the Mourning Star cry’s for you because i won’t.””
FAILURE (Good Willpower, rolled -1)
Eldjhartað Logison
Speak true, no riddles. I will break you if you do not. You know more than you admit. I hope the Mourning Star cries for you, because I will not.
Eldjhartað crosses the snow toward the scholar and seizes her patched cloak at the collar. The iron-sealed book slips from her hand and strikes the frozen ground.
the scholar
Release me. Threats will not make the truth simpler, and I will not name what I cannot prove.
The old woman braces both hands against his wrist. Her fear is controlled, but the open book lies between them, its marked page exposed to the snow.
the scholar
The scraping is not a ghost. It comes from beneath the hovel, through an old drain or passage. That groove in your hearth is its other mouth.
Her answer falls short of confession. Still, the watchhouse’s eastern wall now offers a clear lead, while the hovel remains sealed behind the wary serfs.
the scholar
Search the wall before you return to the house. If the passage can be blocked there, the thing may never reach the town.
Director's note
He throws her to the ground and picks up the book and starts going through its pages.
““I’ll find out what’s going on before night fall, before creatures and dead rise.””
FAILURE (Good Willpower, rolled +0)
Eldjhartað Logison
I will find out what is happening before nightfall, before creatures or dead rise.
Eldjhartað throws the scholar onto the frozen ground, then snatches up the iron-sealed book. He turns its marked pages while the watchhouse and hovel lie within sight.
The cramped script yields no name, only sketches of the drain, the hearth groove, and a note that the passage opens beneath the eastern wall. The final lines have been scraped away.
the scholar
You will not learn the whole truth from that book. I copied what I could before the pages were altered.
Eldjhartað searches the eastern wall and finds loose mortar behind a fallen stone. Beyond it, cold air rises through a narrow black gap, carrying the smell of wet earth.
the scholar
There is your answer, or the beginning of it. The passage runs toward the hovel, but the book names another opening beneath the alder roots.
Night remains distant, yet the search has failed to reveal what waits below. The loose stone opens a usable path toward the alder roots, while the marked book stays in Eldjhartað’s hand.
+ New Item Acquired
Iron-sealed book
Director's note
He gets up and moves towards her picking her up and moving her to the mouth.
““After you.””
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +3)
Eldjhartað Logison
After you.
Eldjhartað holds the loose stone aside and indicates the black gap. The scholar rises stiffly, brushes snow from her cloak, and steps into the narrow passage.
the scholar
Keep the book dry. Its marks may be poor, but they show where the drain divides.
She leads beneath the eastern wall, stooping through wet earth and roots. A faint draft guides her toward the alder roots, and the passage widens enough for a man to follow.
the scholar
There. The left branch runs beneath the hovel. The right rises toward the alder opening.
At the fork, pale daylight filters through a crack overhead. The scholar points to fresh boot impressions in the damp soil, revealing that someone recently used this hidden route.
the scholar
Someone has been tending the passage. The house did not become dangerous by itself.
Director's note
He keeps making her walk through the passage, him eyeing it up and down seeing what things it may hold.
Eldjhartað keeps the scholar moving toward the alder opening, one hand firm at her shoulder while his amber eyes examine the cramped passage. Wet roots knot through the ceiling.
the scholar
Slowly. The soil is loose here, and the left branch may open beneath the hovel.
A shallow runnel cuts through the floor, carrying black water toward the hovel. Fresh scratches mark the stone beside it, narrow and repeated.
the scholar
Those marks are newer than the passage. Someone widened the drain with a tool, then covered the work with ash.
The right branch rises sharply. At its end, alder roots frame a low opening where snow has fallen inward, revealing a strip of trampled ground outside.
the scholar
The opening reaches the field. From there, a person could enter unseen, tend the drain, and return before dawn.
Behind them, a dull scrape travels through the left branch, followed by a muted knock beneath the hovel. The passage offers no answer, only the sound moving closer.
✓ Quest Accepted
Identify who has been tending the passage
Director's note
He slams her against the wall of the entrance
““You know more then you lead on, you’ve been down here before, speak! Tell me what is going on!””
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +2)
Eldjhartað Logison
You know more than you let on. You have been down here before. Speak. Tell me what is happening.
Eldjhartað slams the scholar against the earthen wall at the opening. Roots shiver above them, and snowlight cuts across her weathered face.
the scholar
I came here three winters ago, when the first keeper vanished. I found the drain already open and heard something calling from beneath the hovel.
Her hands grip his wrist without matching his strength. Behind them, black water threads toward the left branch, carrying a faint whisper beneath its trickle.
the scholar
The presence is not dead, and it is not alone. It learns voices through the earth, then draws people toward the house.
the scholar
I sealed this opening with stone and ash. Someone reopened it, widening the drain so the thing could reach the town before winter ended.
The scholar’s controlled mask breaks at last. From the left branch comes a careful scrape, followed by a knock that repeats the rhythm of her breathing.
“(he sighs.) “Go.” *He Draws his greatsword ready for what is about to show.*”
SUCCESS (Superb Melee Weapons, rolled -2)
Eldjhartað Logison
Go.
Eldjhartað exhales, releases the scholar, and steps aside at the alder opening. He draws his greatsword, steel sliding free beneath the roots.
the scholar
I will go, but do not mistake silence for safety. It knows the shape of every voice it hears.
The scholar stoops through the snow-framed opening and moves into the field, one hand braced against the alder trunk. Her dark cloak fades among the trees.
Eldjhartað turns back toward the left branch, greatsword held ready in the cramped passage. The blade catches a root while he sets his stance, tearing a shallow cut across his palm.
A sharp clang rings through the drain. Black water shivers around his boots, and the careful scrape below stops at once.
the presence beneath the hovel
Go.
Confront the presence beneath the hovel
Quest Complete
Seek the surrounding presence
Attribute Upgrade: Willpower Good→Great