Kynes and Bren haul themselves onto the narrow ledge, snow blasting past in hard white sheets. Below them, the wayhouse pulse throbs brighter, and the shadows on the rock twitch as if something is listening through them.
Bren
There. They are using the light to mark us. Keep low.
Kynes
The ledge is a blind spot, but only if the watcher network misses the handoff.
Kynes presses his palm to the stone. Beneath the snow crust, a thin line of grey cord is tucked into a crack, tied off to a cairn pin. The thread hums once, faint and eager, then answers the wayhouse with a dim amber flicker.
Bren
A relay. If you cut this, it loses this stretch of the pass.
Kynes peels the cord free with a twist of magic. The grey thread snaps slack, and the amber pulse stutters down the slope, breaking cleanly for a breath. Far off, the wayhouse thrumming turns sharp and angry, as if it has just lost sight of him.
✓ Quest Accepted
Mask Kynes from the wayhouse
“Using the chant of making I look at the grey teather and unravel it to sever it as if the spell craft was undone by age”
SUCCESS (Legendary Arcana, rolled +2)
Kynes keeps his palm on the crack and lets the chant of making go thin and old. The grey tether loosens as if time itself forgets how to hold it.
The cord frays at the bite-marked edge, then unthreads into dull fibers and dust. The cairn pin slips free and vanishes into the snow.
Down the slope, the wayhouse’s amber pulse falters, skips, and loses its line to the ledge. For a breath, the hollow feels truly empty.
Kynes
The relay is dead.
Bren
Good. Keep your head down, it may still be listening for the break.
The wind scrapes fresh snow over the exposed stone, but no answering hum comes back through the crack. The mark in the pass stays broken.
Below, the wayhouse brightens amber again, searching the dark where the signal vanished. Its attention drifts over the ledge, blind for the moment, but not gone.
Quest Complete
Mask Kynes from the wayhouse