The Redemption of Brynn - session 10
A Thorne in the Side
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A Thorne in the Side
The tree was unlike anything Brynn had seen in years. Its branches swept wide like the arms of some ancient guardian, dipping low enough to scatter golden leaves across the mirrored surface of the lake. A narrow stream fed into it, cascading down rocks at the far edge, its steady whisper filling the air.
Adventure move: Undertake a Journey (+Wits)
Strong Hit: 2 + 2 + 0 = 4 vs 2 | 3
Trek to Hollow Spires: 3/10
Fate move: Ask the Oracle
Location: 32 - Tree
Location Descriptor: 71 - BeautifulThey made camp beneath the boughs. The journey had been kind so far, and the waters were rich with fish; enough to roast over a low fire without worrying about dwindling supplies. As the sun dipped lower, casting orange flecks through the canopy, Brynn sat cross-legged near the shore, inspecting the tip of his sword while Marou dozed, head resting on her front paws. He looked over at Asha, who was gutting the catch with efficient, practiced hands.
“You’ve been here before,” he said, breaking the quiet.
“Once. On patrol,” she replied without looking up. “Didn’t stay long.”
Brynn watched Asha work for a moment.
“You ever met Thorne?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Only heard the name whispered, usually by people who didn’t want to admit they’d said it.”
Brynn nodded slowly. “Sarria called him his _last hope_. Can’t be easy, turning to someone you once walked away from.”
Asha glanced up, her expression unreadable. “It’s not just old wounds between them. Sarria gave up something when he took the circlet. I don’t think Thorne ever forgave him for it.”
There was a pause, the fire snapping softly. Brynn poked at the embers with a stick.
“Let’s hope Thorne hasn’t forgotten how to care about more than grudges.”
Asha exhaled through her nose. “Let’s hope Keelan’s still got time left.”
They packed up after the last fish was gutted and roasted, Brynn taking one last look at the tree that had shaded them like a quiet guardian.
“We’ve still got daylight,” he said, rising to his feet and shouldering his satchel. “Let’s push a little further. We just might get a better view of where we’re headed.”
Asha nodded, and the three of them—Brynn, Asha, and the ever-loyal Marou—set off again, the fading sun streaking gold across the eastern sky behind them.
Adventure move: Undertake a Journey (+Wits)
Weak Hit: 5 + 2 + 0 = 7 vs 1 | 10
-1 supply = 1
Trek to Hollow Spires: 6/10By the time they crested the next rise, the world fell away into a shallow, rugged valley below, bristling with redbrush thickets and lone pines clinging to the stony soil. But beyond that, across the broken landscape, they saw them: the Hollow Spires. They rose in the far north like fractured fingers clawing at the sky, each pillar of stone draped in cloud-shadow. The tallest peak gleamed dully in the dusk light—ashen-gray against the burning sky.
“There,” Asha said simply, pointing.
They’d gone far enough for the day. As the wind picked up and the light slipped westward, they made their way down into the valley. The redbrush bristled with life: small game, quail, maybe even rabbits, and Marou’s ears perked at the rustle of movement nearby.
“We’ll need to hunt,” Brynn said. “Better we do it now than wake up hungry.”
He unslung his short bow and nodded to Asha.
“Set camp. I’ll see what I can find.”
Adventure move: Resupply (+Wits)
Miss: 2 + 2 + 0 = 4 vs 8 | 7
Fate move: Pay the Price
-1 momentum = 4The redbrush rustled with promise, and Brynn moved carefully, following the faint trail of prints—maybe a hare, maybe a fox. Marou stalked at his heel, ears twitching. But every lead ended in dry dirt or hollow dens. Birds fluttered out of reach, and once, a rabbit darted across the path too fast to draw a bead. By the time he returned, the light had all but vanished behind the hills and his boots were caked in dry mud.
“No luck,” he muttered, dropping to a knee beside the modest fire Asha had coaxed into life. “Plenty of prints, nothing worth the arrow.”
She handed him a chunk of hard bread. “Better luck tomorrow.”
Brynn didn’t answer. He just leaned back, watching the Hollow Spires loom in silhouette far off in the dark.
Adventure move: Make Camp (+Supply)
Weak Hit: 5 + 1 + 0 = 6 vs 5 | 9
Prepare: +1 on next Undertake a JourneyThe fire crackled low, sending thin tendrils of smoke curling into the cool evening air. Asha leaned against a stone outcrop, arms folded, eyes half-lidded as she stared into the flames. Marou slept curled nearby, her sides rising and falling in slow rhythm. Brynn sat sharpening his blade by lantern light, though the edge was already keen. It wasn’t about the steel. It was about the ritual.
“We’ll reach the Spires by tomorrow,” he said quietly.
Asha nodded. “Let’s hope your Thorne hasn’t turned to stone himself.”
“He might have. I’m not sure he’s expecting company,” Brynn chuckled.
They didn’t talk much after that. The weight of the coming meeting lay heavy between them. But their gear was ready, their minds focused. Tomorrow would bring answers. Or trouble.
Adventure move: Undertake a Journey (+Wits)
Add +1 (From Make Camp)
Strong Hit: 5 + 2 + 1 = 8 vs 4 | 1
Trek to Hollow Spires: 9/10
Adventure move: Reach Your Destination
Strong Hit: 9 vs 1 | 7
+1 to next move
Track: Trek to Hollow Spires (completed)By midmorning, the land began to change. The valley floor gave way to ridged stone and steep inclines. The spires, once distant pillars against the sky, now loomed overhead: massive monoliths of crumbling rock that split the wind and caught the clouds in their jagged crowns. Lichen clung to the lower slopes like old wounds, and the wind here smelled of slate, moss, and old iron. Asha paused beside Brynn, shielding her eyes with one hand as she looked up.
“So... which one is his?”
Brynn scanned the cliff faces, looking for the subtle signs Sarria had mentioned—flat stone ledges, spiraling paths carved into the rock by patient hands. Eventually, he spotted a narrow stair that wound behind a curtain of ivy, vanishing into the stone like a secret.
“There,” he said, pointing. “If Thorne’s still alive, that’s where he’ll be.”
“Let’s hope he’s not the sort who greets visitors with crossbow bolts,” Asha muttered.
Brynn gave a tired smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Marou stood beside them, silent but alert, her fur stirring in the breeze. Together, the three of them made their way toward the steps that spiraled into the Hollow Spires.
Quest move: Reach a Milestone
Bring Ashvine’s relics to Thorne of the Hollow Spires: 2/10
Fate move: Ask the Oracle
Character Descriptor: 29 - Proud
Character Goal: 21 - Refute a falsehoodThe stairs seemed endless, but at last, just when Brynn was about to give up hope of ever reaching the top, they came upon a nondescript, wooden door, weathered gray and nearly overtaken by moss. They waited a moment to catch their breath. Then Brynn stepped forward and knocked—three firm, deliberate raps.
For a long time, nothing happened. Then came the creak of an old hinge and the rasp of wood shifting in stone. The door opened a crack. A weathered face peered out, framed by a tangled mane of gray hair and a beard streaked with soot. Pale eyes studied them with practiced suspicion.
“Took you long enough,” the man muttered.
Brynn blinked. “You expected us?”
Thorne grunted. “Expected someone. Ashvine was many things, but careless wasn’t one of them. If her things end up in the hands of strangers, something’s gone wrong.” He pushed the door fully open and stepped aside. “Come in, then. Before the wind peels you apart.”
Brynn and Asha exchanged a glance. Marou let out a low grunt, her pace slowed by her still-healing wounds. Together, the three of them stepped into the hollow. Inside, the space was smaller than Brynn had imagined. Cozy, almost, but cluttered: books, jars, dried bundles of herbs, and half-melted candles tucked into every crevice of the stone. A fire crackled low in a hearth carved straight into the rock wall.
“Put your satchel on the table,” Thorne said, eyes narrowing. “Now.”
Brynn hesitated. “Why?”
Thorne stepped closer, nostrils flaring slightly. “Because I recognize the smell of her tinctures. They always stank like wet sage and sorrow. You’ve been carrying them for days.”
Brynn tightened his grip on the strap.
“So tell me,” Thorne continued, voice like gravel, “why are you carrying her things?”
Brynn didn’t move.
“Put her things on the table,” Thorne repeated, pointing with a finger stained by ink and ash. “And tell me what happened.”
Brynn caved, and carefully placed the vials and the parchment on the scarred oak table.
“I found her near Deadwood Grove. She’d been mauled by a bear. I—” His voice caught. “I stayed with her until the end.”
Thorne’s eyes flicked to the items. Then back to Brynn.
“She was alone?”
“Yes. She must’ve been traveling quietly. I don’t think she wanted to be found.”
He paused, then added, “She carried these on her. Tucked away like they mattered.”
Thorne stepped closer. He didn’t touch the items, just stared at them, long and hard.
“If she had these with her, she was close to finishing something. Something important.”
“Do you know what they are? Can you read the parchment?”
Thorne finally stepped forward. He picked up one vial, held it to the light, swirled its contents. Then he unrolled the parchment with the careful hands of someone who’d handled too many fragile things in his life. He muttered as his eyes scanned the faded script. Not the language of the Iron Faith—older, Brynn guessed. Maybe older than the pillars themselves.
“Ashvine was always drawn to dangerous things,” Thorne said, half to himself. “The old blood. Spirit-binding. Ritual work.”
He looked up. “This isn’t just a tonic or a balm. This is... layered. It’s written like a riddle. But I can see what she was trying to do.”
He tapped the parchment, once. “Someone’s dying. This is meant to stop that. But it’s incomplete. She didn’t finish the binding.”
Brynn exhaled slowly. “Can you?”
Thorne didn’t answer at once. Instead, he studied Brynn—really studied him. Not just for truth, but for weight. For motive.
“You said she died alone,” he said finally. “But I doubt she started that journey alone. Someone sent you.”
Brynn hesitated.
“Who?” Thorne asked, quieter now. Not angry. Just tired. “Who was desperate enough to call on her... and foolish enough to send someone like you?”
Brynn opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Asha cut in.
“It was Sarria.”
Thorne’s expression didn’t change, but his jaw tightened.
“The Iron Priest of Bleakbarrow sent you?”
“He’s desperate,” Asha said. “His son’s dying. This was his last hope.”
Brynn stepped forward, tone measured. “He turned to Ashvine when the Faith failed him. And now, he’s turning to you.”
For a long beat, Thorne said nothing. The fire cracked. Somewhere high above, wind whispered through the stone.
“Of course he did.” The words were a bitter exhale.
He turned his back to them and walked to a shelf, brushing dust from a stack of old tomes with a deliberate hand.
“That man abandoned everything we believed in. Took the circlet. Preached the purity of iron while burying truths we bled for. And now he begs scraps from the very heresies he condemned.”
Thorne looked over his shoulder.
“You bring me this,” he said, gesturing to the table, “and ask me to finish what she started?”
Relationship move: Compel (+Heart)
Add +1 (From Reach Your Destination)
Weak Hit: 1 + 2 + 1 = 4 vs 3 | 5
Quest move: Reach a Milestone
Bring Ashvine’s relics to Thorne of the Hollow Spires: 4/10Thorne turned back to face them, the flickering firelight catching the storm in his eyes.
“I’ll help you. I’ll finish what she started.”
A beat.
“But only if he steps down.”
Brynn’s brows furrowed. “You mean Sarria?”
Thorne nodded slowly. “He swore oaths he never intended to keep. Made himself judge and shepherd while choking every root that didn’t bend to the Iron Faith. If he wants what’s in that parchment, he must renounce the pillar. Publicly. No more circlet. No more prayers to cold stone.” He crossed his arms. “He doesn’t get to wear the robe and whisper her name in secret.”
Brynn clenched his jaw. “You’d let a boy die to make a point?”
Thorne didn’t flinch. “No. I’d let a boy live, if that point is finally heard.” He paused, then he added, quieter this time: “Ashvine didn’t die just to keep propping up the same chains that silenced her. She believed in something freer. If you want her cure, you carry that forward.”
The room fell silent, broken only by the soft crackle of firewood. Brynn stepped back from the table. Slowly, he drew his sword, then touched the iron-scarred flesh on his shoulder.
Quest move: Swear an Iron Vow (+Heart)
Miss: 2 + 2 + 0 = 4 vs 10 | 9
Significant obstacle: No apparent heir for the spot of Iron Priest of Bleakbarrow
-2 momentum = 2
New track: Convince Sarria to relinquish the circlet and renounce the Iron Faith“I swear it upon my mark of failure: I will convince Sarria to give up the circlet and abandon the Iron Faith.”
“You’re serious, then. You’ll ask him to give up the circlet.”
“I swore it,” Brynn replied. “I meant it.”
Thorne nodded. “Then we have an understanding. Let’s see if you’re better at delivering words than you were at delivering mystics.” He gave a dry laugh—bitter, tired. “But who’s going to take his place? You?”
Brynn didn’t answer.
“Didn’t think so.” Thorne’s expression hardened. “There’s your real problem, Faithless. That village won’t survive a power vacuum. Not with varou in the north and doubt in every heart. If you want Sarria to step down, you’ll have to give Bleakbarrow someone to follow.”
“One more thing before we go.”
“And what’s that, Faithless?”
“Keelan’s time is running short—we need to get the cure now. We can’t afford to travel back and forth.”
Thorne’s eyes narrowed. “And I would have to just trust that you’re true to your words? After what happened to Ashvine? Not going to happen.” He waddled over to the door and opened it, gesturing for the visitors to leave.
“Wait,” Brynn said. “Isn’t there anything we can do to come to an agreement on this?”
Thorne eyed them for a few moments, then pointed at Marou: “Leave the mutt behind, and I’ll give you the cure.”
Brynn froze. Marou looked up at him, tail giving a hesitant wag, as if sensing the shift in mood. She moved to stand at his side, pressing her weight into his leg.
“You can’t be serious,” Brynn said, voice low.
“I am.” Thorne folded his arms. “You’ve got no coin, no standing, and no oath I’d stake a rusted nail on. But her?” He nodded toward Marou. “She’s loyal. She’ll stay. And I’ll know you’ll be coming back.”
Asha stepped forward, tense. “You’re using his hound as collateral?”
“I’m asking for proof,” Thorne replied. “Leave her here, and you’ll leave with hope in your hands. Or walk out with nothing.”
Brynn looked down at Marou. She blinked up at him, unknowing. Trusting. His hand drifted to the back of her neck. She leaned into it, as she always did.
“Alright,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But if you hurt her—”
Thorne cut him off with a scoff. “Spare me. She’ll have better meals and warmer fires than you ever gave her, Faithless.”
Brynn swallowed the lump in his throat. He unclipped her collar and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Wait for me, girl. I will come back. I promise.”
He turned without another word, forcing himself not to look back. Behind him, the door of the Hollow Spires closed with a final, echoing thud. The vials were warm in his hand, hope sealed in glass, but behind him, in that lonely tower, he had left a piece of his heart limping in the shadows.
Quest move: Reach a Milestone
Bring Ashvine’s relics to Thorne of the Hollow Spires: 6/10Apologies for the lengthy read—I could not find a good way to cut it into smaller pieces that made sense.
For a change, the journey to the spires went surprisingly well, and even the compel succeeded, albeit not for free. This plays into the arc I had already planned, that the villagers of Bleakbarrow is losing their trust in Sarria anyway, and if they learn that he’s turned to mysticism to heal his son, they’ll rip him apart.
And then, the urgency of getting the cure, with Sarria’s and Thorne’s history, it didn’t fit that he’d just give it up like that and I didn’t want to try another Compel so soon, so I figured he’d ask for something he knows Brynn will return for, and Marou was the obvious choice. Sorry, folks. It hurt me as much as it hurts you, but we’ll have to get by without her keen senses for a while, it looks like.
Let me know in the comments below, what you think of these afterthought blurbs—do you even read them, do they add any value? Or do you skip them altogether?
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Click here to read the next part, The Cure and the Cost!
Damn. I like how you interpret the misses and weak hits.
I am slowly making my way through the posts- savouring the story as I go.
Great write-up. I have enjoyed the rambling at the end. Brings greater insight into the session.