Sunday April 14th 1428 Imperial Calendar

With the army approaching in force with archers filling in the West approach and warriors flanked the scattered group on the East. The line of approaching warriors was stalled due to the dense forest terrain given the party a chance at regrouping to make a retreat plan.

Enzo dispersed what healing he could to those holding defense on the retreat and the party mixed into the circle of standing stones. Calais noticed unusual runes scribed on the outer faces of the standing stones. Each rune seemed to be in the general shape of a standing humanoid figure, but time was fading
group were injured, some more grievous than others.

In the distance, the party could hear the war wagons tumbling through the forest. The doors were opened with a ratcheting sound and the howl of hounds echoed through the trees. Both Calais and Silverhawk knew that time was short for the party if they did not make haste immediately.

Weighing his options, Calais caught the scent of a river in the distance and urged the party to group together to take their flight to the river. Caspar, Enzo, and Celeste led by Calais and Silverhawk picked their path carefully to lessen the tracks knowing that the Trann had fallen earlier, they could be hard to track as long as they could maintain a lead on the hounds.

Corman, his horse spared by Sullivan's fall, was the only one who could maintain the speed to outdistance the bulk of the army. After a brief discussion with Calais and the rest of the group, he decided to branch off at a steeper angle towards the river making hopefully drawing the army the wrong direction until the rest of the party could ford the river and scramble to safety. He would follow the other side of the river to find his way back to them. Silverhawk also sent her companion hawk after Corman to keep an eye on him and make sure he was moving the right direction to return to the party.

As Calais fought through the brush, maintaining a close eye on his entourage, Corman drove his horse through the trees hitting every branch along the way. Nearly upon the water's edge, Corman came across a small Grimme village with males and females and nearly every age of Grimme that he had seen. He decidedly rode through the middle of town as a distraction. He caught the blade of a young bull grimme and was started to see a large Grimme alpha male break from a tent in front of him. Corman than headed towards the river and headed towards where he expected the party would be.

Meanwhile, Calais, knowing the pursuit of hounds was a hair's breadth away, ordered Silverhawk into the water with a rope. As soon as she had established a hold, the rest of the party followed with Caspar and Enzo in the rear. Caspar spoke up and requested that they don't immediately cross and tread down the stream aways before stepping foot on the shore. Enzo, while at a crucial juncture in the stream was suddenly beset upon q glowing hot sensation on his chest. The amulet spoke, requiring attention, satisfaction and a sacrifice. Enzo quickly conceded to speaking to the amulet later that night. The presence, though not pleased, left him to continue his journey.

Corman bounded through the forest with his horse at a full gallop. This time, his sole focus was evasion. Behind him the alpha had mounted a boar, much smaller than those from the earlier encounter, and started pursuit. They exchanged blows, jockying for position. Corman spent most of his energy on defense managing, a swing or two during the race. The village alpha male tried to press Corman into the stream yet again and Corman drew his reigns firmly, bringing him and his horse to a stop. He charged the Alpha, narrowly escaping the blow, and unseated the boar rider. He charged through the trees ahead, leaving the village elder to scramble to his feet.

Silverhawk, Calais and Caspar had decided on an egress for the stream and began climbing from the water into the muddy embankment. All of them crested the rise with ease with the exception of Celeste, who lost her footing and drove her boots into the mire. Just then, the archers who had been in pursuit came into view only seen by Calais' sharp eyes. He dove onto Celeste, obscuring the two of them as best he could with the surrounding vegetation. The archer's eye's passed over them without recognition and they divided themselves along the river bank with 7 heading East and 7 heading West along the riverside. As the archers disappeared from view, Calais pulled Celeste's from the muddy bank and they both moved into the trees without bringing attention to themselves.

Corman pounded through the trees glancing at the far shore for signs of the party. He luckily saw the archers that had lined the riverbed before they saw him. He veered into the trees to avoid their arrows. He took two glancing arrows in the process, but still managed to maintain a safe gallop through the trees.

Calais heard the hoof beats in the distance but was unable to see Corman through the trees. The rest of the party had safely crossed the river and moved surely through the mid afternoon glow of the sun.

Corman moved well beyond the pursuit of the army behind him and slowed his wheezing horse to a slow trot. They wound their way through the trees until they happened on a grand canopied area where two rows of trees lined a very old, vegetation-covered road. Corman could hear the clip clop of the
horse's hooves on flagstones while observing a slightly eerie, but readily accepted feeling of peace and safety.

As he rode, he saw a woman standing off to the side which bore a slight resemblance to the inhabitance of the Grimme village that he had passed earlier. The woman, however, had a more human figure, though the eyes, the skin and the facial features overall resembled that of a Grimme.

He stopped, and spoke with the woman briefly. She responded in kind and welcomed him to her sacred place. Corman dismounted, bloodied and beaten from the earlier combat, and cautiously joined the woman with the promise of being kept safe from the encroaching army.

The rest of the party, headed by Calais and Silverhawk, picked their way on an inland parallel course with the river. The sun was still high with no signs of pursuit from the forces behind them. They came to a clearing where there were signs of earlier Grimme camps. Torn banners hung silently near a few decomposing Grimme with their heads smashed in. The air hung with the scent of death and fire, yet the party remained at ease as the force that camped here had departed days ago.

Crossing the road, they began making their way into a mountainous pass looking through the branching valleys hoping for a sign of the Abbey's entrance.

Corman spent some time with this strange Grimm-like woman. They sat at a table and chairs that were formed from the roots of a tree. And, with slight hesitation, Corman drank the offered wine finding that it had replenishing properties. The woman was eloquent, peaceable and full of strange information. He probed her, asking her questions that he had heard from the party. His knowledge of the raging battle between Human's and the Grimme was weak at best. His people had small encounters with the lesser Grimme, called by his people the Little Urukai. She probed him for information about the lands Southward, information he did not readily know. She pressed, seeing something within him, but he knew only a little of his compatriots history. In turn, he found partial answers to some questions that his companions had posed, but in the end, the woman was interested in his niece, the Seeress Anna. She laid her hand on Corman's arm while they sat and saw Anna staring back at her. Upset, she quickly lifted her hand and in a tumble of words, she excused herself and left the sanctuary leaving Corman alone again.

It wasn't long after that Celeste, acting somewhat strangely, looked off into the distance. She could again hear the somewhat distant voice of St. Catherine. She moved with purpose towards one of the many branching mountain pass entrances. As she approached, she paused, trembling, looking up the mountain pass. A flash of light pierced the evening sky and shone immediately on and around Celeste. She shuddered under the weight of the light as it shone and then it dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

Celeste looked around the landscape with new eyes, seeing and perceiving much more now that she had been restored to her rightful place after a long period of penance. She again, looked towards the pass and continued, with both strength and determination, to the way ahead.

Seeing the day was coming to a close, Calais, Enzo and Caspar decided to make camp in a small alcove that Silverhawk came upon. Silverhawk and Calais made sure to pick a spot that still allowed them to see the road below, waiting for Corman to return. Celeste reveled in re-discovering St. Catherine's voice while Caspar quickly settled into bed leaving his familiar, Melicore, to arrange all of his studies for the coming morning.

Worried, Calais peered towards the northern horizon. The sun was rapidly descending in the west and Corman was still nowhere to be seen. Calais noted a fire deep in the forest... It was a grimme celebration of Sullivan's demise. Anger burned deep in the party. Mentioning it, everyone perked and thought of various ways to retrieve his corpse from the fiends. The cause was currently beyond the party's ability. Soon enough, they agreed at some point the group would confront that army and retrieve their friend's remains. Not tonight, but soon.

Corman departed from the sanctuary and was immediately beset by anxiety and tension. He and his horse, though slightly refreshed from the break in riding were bone tired and managed to only plod along at a pace that rivaled a human on foot. After drinking greedily from the stream, then fording at a suitable location. Corman did as he intended and rode inland, hoping to parallel the stream until he reached the rest of the party.

Each drop of the hoof was pain. The shudder echoed through both of them. The sun hung low, nearly obscured by the trees now, and the way remained treacherous and growing darker by the moment. Corman knew he was not only in unfamiliar, but hostile, territory.

As they cut through the trees they began to see the trappings of the Arachna civilization. On a high portion of the hill was a wall of white, silky webbing. The night birds who had been singing sweetly earlier had all but silenced as they walked along the embankment leading up to this powdery white wall.

Corman spoke quietly to his horse, urging him on. But the horse would not afford little more than a walk. Shifting shadows through the last sunlight that crept through the branches were becoming more and more common. Corman saw the blackness moving behind him and whispered more feverishly to his horse. Finally, a loud crack and a rush of air behind them startled Corman's horse into action, tearing up a rooster tail of sand as the hooves plowed for traction. What had assaulted them narrowly missed and both Corman and his horse. Using all of their skill to evade the oncoming horde that now pursued them. Just as they were nearly overcome they broke free of the woods and sped onto an open plain. The angry chatter of the Arachna shimmered from the forest edge, the woods crawled with their presence, but they approached no further.

Sifting around the camp, Silverhawk had found a small statue of something that looked like an old Franciscan friar. It's balding head and bulging belly were readily apparent and seemed to confirm that they were almost upon the abby. Enzo called on Lilith and spoke briefly with her about the amulet while establishing time for another triste in the process. She disappeared in a wisp of smoke and the smell of brimstone and Enzo was left to deal with the amulet wyrm himself.

At long last, Calais spotted Corman from the mountainside. He saw Corman leading his horse, whose sides were expanding and contracting erratically. Corman had his head along side the horse's neck, patting it reassuringly, but he himself was caked in blood that only recently ceased to ooze through his splint mail armor.

Corman had followed Silverhawk's companion in order to reach the canyon. He and his horse were rattled and nearly collapsing from exhaustion when Calais had caught site of them. After meeting him, Calais led them slowly back to the campsite. Along the way, he spotted the tracks of creatures he had encountered before. He shook his head both in frustration and disbelief as he ran over what it meant. He told the party that they would be encountering Eric Venns. Corman immediately saw a light he'd never seen in Celeste. She had changed, become a vessel of divinity, where he saw nothing of the kind before. They spoke, exchanging religious context, and she excused herself to care for Corman's horse.

Corman spoke to the remainder of the party about the woman who called herself a DiVali. He explained the scenario and her answers to his questions. He then spoke of her quick departure upon encountering Anna in a vision.

The rest of the group listened distractedly while the rigors of the day caught up to them. Caspar stirred in his sleep while his familiar, only slightly ruffled, continued his feverish task of laying out scripts, parchment and bookmarking spells in the Wizard's book.

Watches were established and everyone but Calais, who was on first watch, dropped to sleep without as much as a sigh. Calais woke Silverhawk for second watch, and time moved readily along without incident. The two ranges took extended watches to allow the party to regain their strength.

I feel it is time to tell you a tale that is germane to our quest. It is the story of Saint Rosalyn. Tales that Rosalyn was the mortal daughter of Saint Cuthbert are false. She was born in Madrigal in P.E. 611, three-hundred years after Cuthbert’s crucifixion. Born & raised in the city of Santiago, the daughter of a blacksmith, she and her family were devout followers of Cuthbert. She lived a normal life until age 14, when she started having visions. Cuthbert came to her and directed that she should spread his word.

When she told her family of the visions, they were horrified by her arrogance and tried to hide it, but the family priest learned of the girl’s claims and declared her to be a blasphemer. Threatened with either renouncing the visions as a fabrication and begging both forgiveness and atonement, or formal shunning by her family and the Church, Rosalyn – with a heavy heart – left her home and took to the road to follow her calling. She joined up with a caravan headed east into Seville (Castille), signing on as a scullery maid, cooking and washing to earn her keep.

While crossing the Crimson Teeth the caravan was attacked by feral Ogres, who slaughtered guards, drovers and families, then made off with draft animals, livestock and anything of value from the caravan. Only Rosalyn and a handful of non-combatant families survived the attack, but they were stranded in the harsh mountains without protection or provisions. At 14, young Rosalyn rose to the moment and organized the survivors, urging them to have faith, that Cuthbert would provide, and began leading them east on foot in a journey which would later be known to Church historians as “Rosalyn’s Passage.” During the travel, she preached, read aloud from the bible to pass the time and to give hope to her starving, ragged band.

Miraculously, they found water and game regularly throughout the journey, even locating small caves to shelter them against the elements at night. When ogres and trolls appeared, the band huddled around Rosalyn as she prayed, and the monsters went away. One night when a troll came roaring into their camp, all fangs and claws, Rosalyn took up a sword they had taken from a fallen caravan guard and faced the troll alone, without armor or training. Calling upon Cuthbert, she struck it down with a single blow.

Rosalyn’s band emerged from the Crimson Teeth into the lowlands of Seville, finding shelter in a small cattle community before moving on to Torregidor. Stories about her deeds swept like wildfire through the extremely religious city, and the girl quickly came to the attention of the Church. Her claims of sacred visions were again met with skepticism, and she was generally dismissed by the clergy who considered her nothing more than “A lucky girl with a bible.” The general population disagreed, however, and before long her name was being spoken with reverence and respect. Rosalyn stayed and preached in Torregidor and the surrounding countryside for the next 10 years, following Cuthbert’s wishes, and she grew in popularity, though still not officially sanctioned by the Church as a member of the Clergy.

The young woman was eventually approached by a Brother Marin of the order of Opus Dei (a fighting-monk society), who believed in her visions. He told her that an assembly of monks was journeying to the Grimme, as well as a pilgrimage to Hax, and wanted her to come along to spread the word. Rosalyn agreed immediately, but she would not travel light. Her following had grown, and on the day the pilgrimage departed Torregidor, Brother Marin, his monks and Rosalyn were joined by no less than 3,000 men, women and children, all faithful to Cuthbert. During the journey, Brother Marin began training Rosalyn in the way of the sword, to make her better able to protect Cuthbert’s faithful flock. The pilgrimage traveled north through Fertilium and into the Alps, through Butcher’s Pass (which at that time was not fortified or heavily traveled, and was simply a mountain wilderness.) She continued to learn and preach, and practiced her growing skills with the sword against feral goblins and trolls, strengthening her commitment to defending the weak.

Once in the Grimme, the pilgrimage traveled due east towards Hax. During this journey, Rosalyn preached in small villages and human tribal communities, using her powers of healing (she was growing in strength as a cleric) to fortify, bring hope and spread the faith. In P.E. 585 she knelt at Cuthbert’s sepulcher in Hax, where she received another powerful vision. Cuthbert instructed that she was to do three things. First, she was to found and develop an order of fighting, female clerics (initially called the “Sisterhood”) to champion the causes of the Church and defend the weak. The second task was to build a chapel in the western Alps, which would serve as a Church stronghold and a sanctuary for humans in the Grimme. Third, she was to bring His word to the primitive goblin tribes. Rosalyn set about her task. She was 26.

By P.E. 576, at age 34, Rosalyn had built the Chapel of San Marin (named after the late monk who had befriended her) which became the center for the Order of Opus Dei. These monks dedicated themselves to Rosalyn’s work, and to defending her and her flock. The valley below San Marin started sprouting villages of devout followers and pilgrims. She selected young women with the appropriate piety and will, and trained them in combat and clerical teachings, growing the Sisterhood. And she obeyed Cuthbert as she began her ministries among the goblin tribes. This proved dangerous, and although numerous goblins began practicing Cuthbertism (this was a time when the Goblin Clans were in their infancy), many missionaries and monks of Opus Dei lost their lives to violent goblin bands.

In P.E. 561, at age 49, Rosalyn was in Gristmil overseeing the construction of a large gothic chapel which would be dedicated to Cuthbert, supposedly surrounded by faithful goblins as well as human workers, missionaries, monks of Opus Dei and several fighter-clerics of the Sisterhood. A goblin lord of the Bloodhand Clan had decided the filthy humans and their false god challenged his authority, and so he attacked the chapel with a large force. In an epic battle which lasted throughout the day, over 1,200 hostile goblins fell, but their numbers and the ferocity of their attack proved too strong for Rosalyn’s forces. Workers, missionaries and even devout goblins fought bravely to defend the chapel site, but were overrun. Three of Rosalyn’s Sisterhood members went down heroically battling boar riders, and monks fell trying to defend their patron.

Rosalyn used Walls of Fire and Flamestrikes to decimate the goblin ranks and protect a dwindling number of humans and devout goblins, and once it was clear the battle was lost, her monks urged her to save herself by using a Word of Recall to escape. Rosalyn refused to abandon those she was sworn to protect, and stayed on to fighgt. In the end she was captured, along with a remaining few missionaries. Four monks of Opus Dei and one of the Sisterhood were cut off from her, unable to help, and managed to break off and hide nearby. From concealment they watched helplessly as the aftermath unfolded.

The victorious Bloodhand rounded up all surviving goblins who had converted to Cuthbertism and beheaded, then piked their heads as a warning to others of their kind. The human missionaries were boiled alive and eaten during a great feast. Rosalyn was crucified hands and feet, and forced to watch. After the feast, the goblin lord made a great spectacle of holding a “trial,” finding Rosalyn guilty of inciting treason, and ordering that she be skinned alive. That process lasted 6 hours, and the hidden monks wept over her screams, praying for a swift and merciful death which didn’t come soon enough.

When darkness fell and the goblins were drunk on swill and victory, the monks and the Sister crept out of hiding and pulled down Rosalyn’s remains, then carried her away into the night. They traveled back to San Marin, but the Abbott was unable to raise her from the dead. With great sadness and ceremony, Rosalyn’s remains were buried in the Valley of the Rose. Almost overnight, wild roses began sprouting up by the acre where they had never grown before. (Her remains were later unearthed and transferred to a proper crypt deep beneath the Abbey after its completion.)

The remaining members of Rosalyn’s Sisterhood renamed their order the “Madrigala” in honor of Rosalyn’s homeland, renewed their oaths to fight evil and defend the weak, then scattered to recruit and train members, building the order. The Madrigala have endured, and remain a small and little-known but effective weapon in the Church’s arsenal. By their custom and ritual, only female paladins or clerics may be selected to the order. Sister Rosalyn remained the inspiration for the order, and was highly revered. Over 400 years later, when Rosalyn was canonized, the Madrigala took her as their Patron Saint.

Thirty-five years after Rosalyn was martyred, the monks of Opus Dei began construction of a great monastery at the site of San Marin. Three-hundred years later it was completed, and in P.E. 125, the year Rosalyn was canonized, Cardinal Giovanni IV renamed San Marin as the Abbey of Saint Rose, to honor the fallen saint.

For the next 1,300 years, St. Rose served as a Church foothold in the Grimme, a place of healing, study and worship, and a base for Church-sponsored military operations. In I.C. 1,161, at the end of the massive failure which was the 3rd Crusade, Cardinal Umberto II declared that, “The Grimme is lost,” and ordered the evacuation and magical sealing of St. Rose in order to protect it from the triumphant goblin hordes. The hope was that one day, Church forces guided by Cuthbert’s strength would reoccupy this most holy of places…

Monday April 15th 1428 Imperial Calendar

In the morning, the camp slowly woke to no fire and no food, a unsettling reminder of Sullivan's absence. The party somberly went about a morning detail, tidying up camp and preparing to move up to the Abbey of St. Rose.

Caspar indicated that he was ready to retrieve Mouse from Corman's village. Corman obliged and took hold of the Wizard's hand to be whisked away. They appeared in the specially vacated cottage that Corman had requested from his brother. They walked through the village, encountering all of the sights, smells and sounds that Corman called home. Caspar was unsettled by the rural and primitive nature of the people. Their lifestyle was very near as barbaric as one could get and still be called civilized.

Corman visited his brother, who indicated that Mouse was well and to take him away as soon as possible. Corman immediately went to where Mouse was held. He was in a youngman's loincloth and nothing more. The trappings were an ill fit and left Mouse largely exposed and hysterically unappreciative.

While we led him away, he spoke kindly of Anna, but that the rest of 'this lot', or the Vorseman, were completely insane. Caspar silently agreed with a nod while looking sidelong at Corman who remained stone-faced as Mouse riddled his people with insults.

Corman decided to visit Anna and ask her of the DiVali woman, who, when she saw Anna looking back at her, departed with great haste. On his approach, she blindly ran his direction when she sensed him. She leaped at him and embraced him, then spoke into his ear, "Take me with you."

Corman was taken back by what she said. He understood, but his brother would never allow it. Corman couldn't allow it in good conscience since he would inherently be bringing her into the most dangerous places that even he had ever been in. He promised her that he would try. Caspar offered alternatives, even to the point of whisking her away when she was meant to be married to one of the boys in town. Corman balked, but understood what was happening.

He, too, was a second child, losing all chance for inheritance and only existing to be a servant to his brother. Things changed when he was pronounced a Cleric of the Ancestors who followed Dagmar and the other arrayed Gods. Only by this path was he able to become his own man, becoming a servant of the Gods instead of a servant of his brother.

After settling Anna down and making sure that he would take care of her in due time, he spoke to her of the Divali woman he encountered in the forest. Anna only passingly recalled the encounter, but had not dwelt on it. Her gift superseded her sight and what she saw all of the time didn't stand out all that much.

After many words, aggravation, and squinting towards Corman, Mouse and Caspar, Anna left in a huff yelling to the air while walking away that she would hold them to their promise of returning in at least 2 weeks.

Mouse gripped Caspar and begged to be returned home so that he could get 'his stuff' so he could look somewhat normal again. Caspar agreed and the three took hands while Caspar concentrated and in a flash brought them back to their camping spot.

Just as the three returned from the Lands of the Vorseman, Silverhawk, during a moment of mingling with nature, had found an illusory wall whose enchantment must have been fading with time. It flickered and returned briefly. She led the party to the spot where the illusion was fading. Keeping an eye ahead, Calais started along the path, leading the party into the newly discovered path.

It's good to be back. Hey, we got any puchino?