Quoted By:
Meltwater drips from rust-red leaves. Ranks of scar-barked trees grow mottled with lichen. The daughter and the hunter cut through the autumn wood, following a footpath traveled in a half-remembered dream.
The hunter stalks forward with a low, practiced tread. The daughter moves with less discretion, her steps snapping down through the woody undergrowth.
"My father was once a knight," mentions the daughter.
"And I was once a soldier." replies the hunter. "It no longer matters."
The knight's daughter closes her fingers around a glimmering pendant that her father had bequeathed to her that morning - and recalls a set of precepts repeated to her by the soft voice of the noonday breeze.
"I think it still does," she whispers.
+++
The trees become sparse. Cold wind howls through a procession of limestone arches. The broken ruins mourn a long-departed god whose name is no longer known or spoken.
The hunter scans the landscape from an outcropping of jagged rock. After mouthing a prayer of protection, he casts a handful of dried leaves towards the frigid wind, which carries them:
>EARTHWARD. [Bottom tiles]
>SKYWARD. [Top tiles]
Additional Actions [PICK ONE]:
>[BREEZE] - Lend minor assistance to exploration. [-1 FAITH]
>[DEW/BREEZE] - Lend some assistance to exploration. [-2 FAITH]
>[FOG] - Obscure their movement. [-2 FAITH]
>[NOTHING] - Wait until the need arises.
