Guinevere’s Story

I’m having fun at XOXO Festival tonight, so here’s a short vignette I wrote as backstory for my D&D game. Hopefully this makes sense out of context. Enjoy.

24th of Bluesky, 502nd year Post-Cataclysm

Anelyan, my once-lost love. I did not expect you back in my life.  

As I write this, I’m riding in a cart next to your very dead body.. I’m still processing all this, and more determined than ever to do whatever the gods require to bring your soul out of the Deadlands and back to the land of mortal life. My whole world has turned from six to noon, as the old Imperial saying goes, in less than a day.

Maybe more than that. Two days ago, while casing a warehouse that had been occupied by a squad of squatters, I got a message from Enewen that said these two newcomers to town, a half-elf named Olmak and a halfling named Milo, wanted to talk to me, and implied heavily that Milo was a former member of the Shadow Family guild in Kopno’domas, which put him and I on the same side by the traditional calculation of “enemy of my enemy” and all that. 

Still didn’t mean I trusted them, though, and by the time I got the message, I still had a day or two to scout out the lay of the land, so that’s what I’ve been doing the past day or two. They were babysitting some Blackfeathers and took them north along the peninsula, twice, and came back in poor shape both times; at least two of the four were injured to the point of death each time. Did they find the tomb of Ser Borin, last champion of the Duskmaven? Hard to say, but their bags were heavy the second time; maybe they’d found something.

The half-elf wearing rough leather clothes and who talks to ravens is hard to hide from, but I’d managed it, just barely, on their wilderness excursions. In town, though, this morning, was more demanding. I’d used a glamour to hide my appearance — not just for them, of course, there are other folks looking for me — and since casting this illusion is a new trick for me, I was a bit clumsy. I got made when they stopped for breakfast at Rhoban’s. But I was able to fade into the crowd around the plaza, and they seemed to have other business.

They joined one of the friars who was carting pony kegs up to the old fort, Friar Willy, a friendly drunk who had gotten up to some adventures a few years ago with Warjos and Ilbahn but who was laying low recently. The burglar (Milo) and woodsman (Olmak) appeared to be using Willy to get into the castle. Was that their con? I followed them up the stairs at a distance but got denied entry to the castle, so I took the path around to see if they came out the other side and continued toward the lighthouse. A calculated gamble but it did eventually pay off. 

Still keeping my distance (damn Olmak’s eyes! he’s hard to avoid notice) I loitered near the ocean side of the bluff, watching the Elven warships at anchor past the Breaker Bar, and admiring the griffon riders’ maneuvers. After shooing off some wretched-looking black birds (definitely not ravens, not anymore,) my marks chatted up the lighthouse caretaker, an old gent named… Henri? Henri Redstream? Not sure, I don’t spend much time at tourist traps like this, especially if they have cranky old wizards in them. There are easier targets to loot. But I got made, again (curse Olmak’s eagle eyes) and it looked like they were going to go inside, so I decided to get it over with and speak to them. And, long story cut short, that’s when I found out you had died but somehow your ghost remained. Unfinished business, with me.

Normally I love being right. I was right to tell you that adventuring was too dangerous. I was right to tell you to go back to your farm, tend your crops, and find a nice simple farmwife to settle down with. I’ve gotten out of too many close scrapes to want to see you exposed to that same danger. All our arguments beside the firepit flashed before my eyes. But something did not add up. We were both devoted to Our Lady of Ravens, and She hated the undead. Why were you a ghost? Were the gods toying with us? I had to find out more.

I tried talking these three, Olmak, Milo, and Friar Willy, out of coming with me, but they seemed sincere in helping me. If this was a trap, their bringing one of Rhoban’s priests with them, was an almost impossible level of cover. Willy was known around town, a native son, jovial and lusty and always drunk, but not a liar or cheat. His reputation eased some of my suspicions. Plus they had a cart back at their camp. 

We stopped by their camp to attend to their Blackfeather babies. Even though they and I both give honor to the Raven Queen, I consider them wannabes and charlatans. But meeting Alquorin I saw a hint of steel behind the silk. I am almost certain that he managed to survive making a pact with the Matron of Ravens. Only time will tell if he and his girlfriend, Marjolane, can harness that power. Am I sad I missed that opportunity? Perhaps, but maybe there will be future chances. As far as I know, it’s possible for Patrons to have more than one Champion at a time. I know the Pig-Lord of the Undead does.

We rode the hour or so to the safe house. Olmak and Milo debated stopping to see where they found Anelyan’s body but instead we pushed on to the house. Milo snuck up to a window and reported that the body and the spirit were both inside, so we advanced. But the ghost apparated out of the wall too swiftly to counter, and briefly possessed Olmak before the friar was able to compel the ghost to leave. It flew fast as it could and once it was 100′ or so from the house it dissipated.

Olmak was sure that it would return, though, so I went in and gathered up your body and we high-tailed it back to town. And… I feel I owe it to you to give you another chance at life. I know that the high priestess of Rhoban can bring people back from the dead; she’s done it before (for instance, Ilbahn’s son from that unpleasantness a few years back), and that requires an offering of a diamond of great worth, more expensive the longer the soul has been gone. And I know where I might get one; the sorcerer in that warehouse down by the docks has been collecting gems.

I could (probably) have faced your vengeful spirit alone, but I think I’ll need some help with these bandits if it all goes tits up. Luckily, Willy, Milo, and Olmak are down to help out. I’m sure they can get something of value out of this; I just need one shiny rock.

Failed quest trigger

I can still hear the crows cawing outside. They’ve been out there all afternoon. I first noticed them around 3:00 pm. There was a whole murder of them (nailed it!) and I could hear them circling around outside my computer room window, which is on my second floor. I got video of them and they were literally circling around above my patio. When I went out to see them, I tried talking to them, and they landed in trees just past my patio but did not stop cawing.

I went downstairs to see if dad was out on the patio; that’s where he goes to smoke. He wasn’t; he was on the couch watching TV. I asked him if he’d heard the crows and he hadn’t. I tried to get some more video but it was just sound; they weren’t in sight, just sitting on tree limbs.

I am the kind of person who respects crow’s intelligence and curiosity. I even talk to crows when I’m out and about. I treat them like friends, say hi, ask them how they’re doing. I rarely get an answer, though, and I never have any treats to give them, so I never expected to build up a relationship with the local crows.

So weird. OK, maybe it’s not weird. I edited my video clips together and posted them on Instagram and TikTok. My joke was that the Raven Queen had a mission for me.

You don’t know who the Raven Queen is? That’s a D&D reference; she’s one of the canonical D&D gods and her domain is death and memory. And I’ve used her as a motivator in my current campaign, even before I knew that Matt Mercer had used her for Vax’ildan’s (Liam O’Brien) character arc in Campaign One of his enormously popular Let’s Plays. The Raven Queen rules from her domain, which is in the Shadowfell, a dark mirror of the primary world, what us grognards called the Prime Material Plane. But, I digress.

Clearly these crows, corvid messengers of Our Lady of Death, had a message for me. But what could it be? I talked to them, told them it was safe to speak, that I was ready to listen, but they just continued squawking, agitated, non-stop. They were still doing it hours later. By now, the sun has gone down, and they’ve mostly stopped but every once in a while I can still hear one or more of them calling.

Sure, it could just be that they are alerting me and everyone around that there’s a hawk nearby. There’s a game I play that I’ve written about before called The Long Dark, and in that game, hearing crows can give useful information about the environment. Crows (in that game, I’m not sure if they do this in real life) will circle above a dead animal, making the carcass which provides meat, hides and guts easier to locate. And crows in the game have a special more agitated call that will alert the player of the presence of a bear. Gotta know where the bear is because it’s very dangerous if you’re not prepared.

That would be a mundane explanation, sure, but isn’t it pretty to think more interesting things, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone? I’m just sad that no matter what I tried I wasn’t able to trigger the quest. Nothing has shown up in my journal. Boooooo. Hopefully it’s not a timed quest. I’ll try again tomorrow.