Rowan reaches the channel’s eastern mouth with the fallen woman supported against his bear-hide cloak. The gray-bearded refugee emerges beside him, still clutching the cracked cup and straw.
A hooded figure steps from behind the bank, empty hands raised. Pale sigils mark the figure’s gloves, and a cold blue glimmer rests in the eyes of a living necromancer.
the hooded necromancer
Do not fear the dead. I have no soldiers here, and no wish to summon them. There is a concealed route through the eastern culverts into Ironvale.
The refugees freeze behind the bend, their bundles pressed close. The gray-bearded refugee shifts nearer Rowan and the woman, placing himself between them and the stranger.
Tomas Vale
Necromancer. Living or not, your kind brought ruin across every road we know. Why should we trust a hidden path offered in darkness?
the hooded necromancer
Because the garrison watches the gates, and the refugees crowd the walls. The culvert bypasses both. Refuse, and the marching dead may find you before dawn.
woman
Please... no more running into danger. But I cannot walk to Ironvale.
✓ Quest Accepted
Learn whether the necromancer's route will place the refugees under the Dark Lord's control
✓ Quest Accepted
Protect the refugees from being placed under the Dark Lord's control
“"Can you take her?" I murmur to the grey-bearded refugee, quietly enough that the necromancer cannot hear. "If it comes to a fight, I will need my hands free."”
FAILURE (Fair Persuasion, rolled -2)
Rowan Silverhand
Can you take her? If it comes to a fight, I will need my hands free.
Rowan bends close beneath the bank and murmurs the request. The gray-bearded refugee hears him, glancing from the woman to the necromancer’s waiting silhouette.
Tomas Vale
I can try, but not carry her far. My legs are failing, and I would drop her before the culvert.
The old man reaches for the woman, but his knees buckle as he takes her weight. Rowan catches her before she strikes the stones, while the cracked cup rolls into the mud.
woman
Do not let me slow you. The culvert... if it is truly close, I can be dragged on my bundle.
Tomas Vale
There is your answer. Lay her on the bundle and pull her between us. It will keep your hands free, and I can guide the way.
Beyond the bank, the necromancer waits beside the concealed opening. Its narrow stone lip is just wide enough for a bundled body, offering passage without another attempt at carrying her.
“"A good backup plan, if things go wrong," I tell the grey-bearded refugee. "Wait here; I'll see what I can find out." I step forward and address the necromancer directly. "Take off your hood. Let me see your face, if you want me to try to trust you."”
SUCCESS (Fair Willpower, rolled +0)
Rowan Silverhand
A good backup plan, if things go wrong. Wait here; I’ll see what I can find out.
Rowan steps toward the culvert mouth, leaving the gray-bearded refugee beside the woman and her bundle. Cold blue light catches on the wet stones.
Rowan Silverhand
Take off your hood. Let me see your face, if you want me to try to trust you.
the hooded necromancer
A fair demand. Trust should not be asked from a shadow.
The necromancer lowers both hands and draws back the hood. A pale, sharp-featured woman looks out, her black hair braided with silver thread and her eyes still faintly blue-lit.
Tomas Vale
You have seen her face. Now decide whether that makes this passage safer, or merely makes the danger easier to name.
As the hood falls, a clasp of bone strikes the stone and cracks with a sharp click. The sound carries briefly through the culvert, while the necromancer waits exposed.
“"I am Rowan," I tell the woman. "A swordsmith, once. I admit, I have not met many necromancers. But I have seen the destruction the undead leave in their wake. Tell me, why should we trust you? How do we know you are not leading us into a trap yourself?"”
SUCCESS (Fair Persuasion, rolled +2)
Rowan Silverhand
I am Rowan. A swordsmith, once. I have seen what the undead leave behind. Why trust you, and how do we know this route is not your trap?
The necromancer studies Rowan in the blue light, then turns toward the culvert and points to three shallow cuts carved into its stone lip.
the hooded necromancer
Because I am fleeing the same armies, not serving them. Those marks are garrison signs. Ironvale scouts carved them, and the western gate commander knows this passage.
the hooded necromancer
A trap would need watchers. There are none here. The dead avoid these culverts because old warding salt lines the foundations, and I cannot command what I did not raise.
She kneels beside the broken bone clasp, removes a small iron token from beneath her sleeve, and sets it on the wet stone beside the marks.
the hooded necromancer
Take this to the gate watch. It bears Captain Veyra’s seal. If you distrust my word, distrust it after the guards confirm the passage. I will lead, unarmed.
From beyond the bank, the marching clatter fades into the distance. The token remains between Rowan and the necromancer, offering a clear means to verify her claim and reach Ironvale.
“I glance at the refugees huddled behind me, then at the grey-bearded refugee beside me. "We are tired, and slow. Desperate." I look at the necromancer. "We will follow you; it seems we have few choices, and you haven't given us any reason to doubt your word." I step forward and lower my voice so that only the hooded necromancer, the fallen woman in my arms, and the gray-bearded refugee can hear me. "Be warned, though. I did not survive being falsely imprisoned, and the destruction of my town, and six months of being homeless on the road to die wet and cold in a culvert. If I have misjudged you, and this is a trap, I will kill you before you have the chance to trick any others." I straighten back up and nod down the culvert. "Lead the way."”
SUCCESS (Fair Willpower, rolled -2)
Rowan glances toward the refugees huddled behind him, then to the gray-bearded refugee at his side. Their silence and exhausted faces answer before anyone speaks.
Rowan Silverhand
We are tired, and slow. Desperate. We will follow you. You have given us no reason to doubt your word.
Rowan Silverhand
But I survived false imprisonment, the destruction of my town, and six months homeless on the road. I will not die wet and cold in a culvert.
Rowan Silverhand
If this is a trap, I will kill you before you trick anyone else. Lead the way.
the hooded necromancer
Understood. I will not ask for trust again. Keep close, and speak softly. The warding salt is old, but sound still travels through these stones.
The necromancer retrieves her iron token and closes her fingers around it, leaving the seal unverified but carrying its proof with her. She enters the culvert first.
Rowan follows with the fallen woman, and the refugees file after him. His shoulder scrapes the low stone ceiling, tearing cloth and raising a brief sting, but the group reaches the hidden passage safely.
“I look back at the grey-bearded refugee. "What is your name?" I ask.”
SUCCESS (Fair trivial, rolled +0)
Rowan Silverhand
What is your name?
The question travels softly through the cramped culvert. The gray-bearded refugee glances toward the necromancer, then back to Rowan, as if names have become dangerous things to carry.
Tomas Vale
Tomas Vale. My wife called me Tomas, before the armies took her. You may use it, if we live long enough to reach the walls.
He shifts the fallen woman’s bundle higher and winces. His boot catches a loose stone, which skitters down the passage with three sharp clicks before settling.
the hooded necromancer
Tomas, then. Keep your feet beneath you. The warding lines will hide us from the dead, but not from every living ear.
Tomas steadies himself against the wall, one hand tightening around the cracked cup. Rowan now has his name, but the stumble has left the old man limping.
“I follow the hooded necromancer quietly and grimly, determined to spot any signs of a trick or an ambush and protect the refugees.”
SUCCESS (Fair Perception, rolled -1)
Rowan follows the hooded necromancer in silence, placing each boot where hers has passed. His gaze sweeps the salt lines, ceiling cracks, and every recess behind the refugees.
Rowan Silverhand
The warding salt is unbroken. No second trail enters the culvert.
At a bend, he catches a thin cord stretched ankle-high across the stones, its other end tied to a cluster of little bells. He stops Tomas with one hand.
the hooded necromancer
Good eyes. That warning is mine, not a snare. I set it for living intruders and forgot how low the passage has become.
Rowan cuts the cord with a shard of loose stone before anyone touches it. The shard slips afterward, clattering down the culvert, and the sound echoes toward Ironvale.
Tomas Vale
That will tell the guards someone approaches. Let us hope they hear refugees before they hear danger.
The necromancer leads on, now glancing back whenever Rowan checks the rear. His vigilance reveals no ambush, and the passage opens at last beneath Ironvale’s outer wall.
Quest Complete
Reach Ironvale
Attribute Upgrade: Willpower Fair→Good
“I look around, taking in the reality that we have survived. "We made it," I murmur to myself. I look at the necromancer. "You told us the truth. I am sorry for having doubted it."”
The culvert opens beneath Ironvale’s outer wall into a guarded stone chamber. Beyond its arch, torchlight spills across tired faces, packed bundles, and the first solid ground untouched by marching feet.
Rowan Silverhand
We made it.
Rowan remains still for a moment, taking in the walls, the watchful gates above, and the refugees gathered safely behind him. The woman’s breathing stays shallow but steady.
Rowan Silverhand
You told us the truth. I am sorry for having doubted it.
the hooded necromancer
Doubt kept you alive on the road. You owe me no apology for carrying it into the dark.
She steps aside as two Ironvale guards approach, their eyes fixed first on the necromancer, then on the refugees. Tomas lowers the woman’s bundle with a relieved breath.
Tomas Vale
Ironvale at last. May its walls hold longer than the roads behind us.
Quest Complete
Learn whether the necromancer's route will place the refugees under the Dark Lord's control
Attribute Upgrade: Willpower Good→Great
Quest Complete
Protect the refugees from being placed under the Dark Lord's control
Attribute Upgrade: Willpower Great→Superb