What Happened Last Session
The company spent the afternoon hunting for high ground. Ro’an climbed a jungle tree, slipped on the way up (a mouthful of leaves set him right), and from the canopy caught sight of a smoking hut and a scream that carried like a goat’s, over and over, out of the dark. Oath before comfort: they pressed on through the night, lost their bearings under the black canopy, and woke a hex off course before the scream drew them back.
The hut held the Screaming Seer, blindfolded and jaw locked open, breath rising like smoke as it scratched the word river into the dirt. The knights reached down its throat and drew out a crumpled parchment: a riddle, and a small map with an X on the river hex. They left one of their monks behind to be knighted by the Seer, and moved on.
The River kept its promises. First a blood offering on a dead-tree outcropping, a body tipped into the stream. Then a toll bridge, where Bridge Knight Tog meant to gut a pilgrim for a coin of pure gold, a coin dented as if it had dropped out of the sky. Ro’an pulled a dagger on him. The fight left Tog scarred and shaken, and the argument over whether the strike was honourable ran longer than the duel itself. Before anyone could claim the coin, the river reared up in a wall of water, took the bridge, and carried the coin away.
The flood did not stop. The company followed the newborn stream down into a reeking, molt-littered newt lair, killed the great Queen Newt guarding it, and found a stone carved with the Seer’s same verse, glowing and weeping blood. Robin, roped and wearing one of Arthur’s rings so the two shared hearing, went down into the flooded source. There, in the current welling up from nowhere, he caught a glimmer.
We pick up with Robin underwater, the glimmer just ahead.