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Ashes Session 7

Dates

  • Real World: June 3, 2026
  • In-Game: 14th-19th of Palesun, 1137 AoD

Player Characters

Experience

  • Venathrax, 900 + 300 = 1200
  • Anchor, 900 + 300 = 1200
  • Kanaeda, 900 + 300 = 1200
  • Corq, 900 + 300 = 1201
  • Pethi, 900 + 300 = 1200
  • Wrenn, 900 + 300 = 1200
  • Xam, 900 + 300 = 1200
    Level 4: 2,700 XP

Session Notes

The Meeting of the Witnesses

Starweaver's Reckoning Fifth Day, 14th of Palesun, 1137 AoD
The party spent the day preparing a trap.

Tide Wardens were quietly assembled, positions were chosen, and Wrenn once again assumed the form of a small spider and hid within the rafters of the temple meeting room.

The meeting that followed confirmed our worst fears.

Present were:

These eight individuals referred to themselves as the Witnesses.

The conversation revealed several important facts:

  • They knew that Alar had disappeared.
  • They suspected the investigators had reached him.
  • They understood that the shipyard ritual had failed.
  • They believed the burden of their work now "passed upward."
  • Someone above them had already been informed.

Most importantly, they openly admitted that they had orchestrated the shipbuilders' attempt aboard the Dawn Seeker.

The harbor work had failed.

But their beliefs had not.

At one point, one of the Witnesses asked:

"How many more generations do we ask to survive like this?"

Belaia's answer was chilling:

"As many as still mistake survival for victory."

The meeting adjourned shortly thereafter.

It never got the chance.

The Giant Spider Incident

As the Witnesses began leaving the room, Wrenn decided subtlety had run its course.

She dropped from the ceiling and resumed her natural form.

Unfortunately, she chose the form of a giant spider.

Panic immediately erupted.

Screams echoed through the temple halls, and the nearby Tide Wardens, already waiting for precisely this signal, rushed into the chamber.

The Witnesses were apprehended and escorted to the cells beneath the Council Hall.

The arrest caused considerable confusion among the temple's clergy and worshippers. Even Dovus, Pethi's mentor, demanded to know why respected members of the temple were being taken away.

Venathrax managed to calm the growing crowd before panic spread throughout the Pagoda of Ara.

Before the Council

With the Witnesses imprisoned, the entire Council of Thirteen assembled.

Corq, having foreseen the moment, encouraged Kanaeda to present the details of the investigation. His account of the murders, the demonic symbols, and the failed ritual left the councilors horrified.

The interrogations began immediately.

The sole objective:
Find the Champion.

During the questioning of Domitila Quintana, Corq prepared a Detect Thoughts spell while Xam asked a simple question:

"Who is your leader?"

The answer did not come easily.

Corq first encountered overwhelming despair.

Then he pushed deeper.

A single name surfaced.

Araroris Calaarauth.

The Champion of Ara.

The Champion

The revelation stunned everyone present.

Araroris Calaarauth was a 616-year-old sea elf cleric, the second oldest member of the temple and one of the most respected religious figures in Agrovionimb.

No one had suspected her.

The party rushed back to the Pagoda of Ara.

Even Kuserlion turned pale when he heard the name.

When the Tide Wardens reached Araroris's chambers, they found her waiting.

She offered no resistance.

She simply held out her hands to be cuffed.

When asked whether she had founded the organization, she answered:

"Yes."

When asked why, she refused to elaborate.

Corq attempted to probe deeper into her thoughts, but she resisted.

At their request, she calmly produced a demonic tome from her pouch and surrendered it to the Wardens.

Then she invoked Article 14 and requested a public hearing.

The Confession

Five days passed.

Every member of the conspiracy pleaded guilty.

None requested a trial.

Instead, nearly three hundred citizens gathered within the Council Hall to hear Araroris speak.

Her confession was not one of anger.

Nor hatred.

Nor madness.

It was one of despair.

For six hundred years she had watched Agrovionimb slowly lose knowledge, culture, and hope. Each generation inherited less than the one before it, yet still insisted that tomorrow would somehow be different.

She had prayed.

For centuries.

The gods never answered.

Eventually, she stopped asking why the gods had abandoned the world and began asking a different question:

What if they never intended to save us at all?

The Covenant's conclusion was simple:

Agrovionimb was not hope. It was denial.

The city told itself comforting lies.

That the next expedition would succeed.

That salvation waited beyond the sea.

That tomorrow would be better.

For one thousand one hundred and thirty-seven years, every ship had vanished.

And still they built another.

When accused of trying to doom the city, Araroris did not deny it.

"Yes."

She admitted that she had attempted to ensure that Agrovionimb shared the fate of the rest of the world.

Because, in her eyes, the alternative was worse.

A slow death stretched across endless generations.

She concluded with a final warning:

"You may imprison me. You may execute me. You may dismantle every part of the Covenant. I do not object.

But tomorrow morning there will still be people who wake before dawn and wonder whether I was right."

No one in the chamber agreed with her.

But everyone understood that she believed every word she had spoken.

Anchor's Answer

When the chamber finally fell silent, Anchor spoke.

He had been there when the gods still answered prayers.

He had seen a world that no one else alive remembered.

And yet, despite everything he had witnessed, he had not given up hope.

If the oldest memories in the room still believed the future could be better, then perhaps Agrovionimb had not yet reached its end.

Epilogue

With the Covenant dismantled and its leaders imprisoned, the city slowly returned to normal.

Two months passed.

NPCs Interacted With

  • Person

Note Taker's Recap

The day goes by quietly as the party gathers Tidewardens and finds their place in the temple to prepare for a stake out of Belai's second group meeting. Wrenn finds a cozy spot in the rafters hiding as a spider ready to ease drop on the Witnesses. The meeting is short and to the point exposing themselves as the force behind the shipwrights attempt at the shipyard. As the begin to adjourn Wrenn drops down from the ceiling in giant spider form, causing screams and panics, which alerts the close by Tidewardens to appear promptly. With Wrenn's testimony Belai's group is apprehended and taken to the cells beneath the council hall.

It is time to tell the rest of the council what has transpired. Corq foresaw this speech and encourages Vash to present the investigation details to the council bringing horror on their faces. Interrogations begin immediately after, with a singular goal of discovering who the Champion is, the head of the secret organization. Corq readies a Detect thoughts as Xam begin to question Domitila. Corq probes, and feels overwhelming despair but probes deeper until the name Araroris Calaarauth the Champion of Ara surfaces.

Araroris Calaarauth the second oldest member of the church and one that no one would have suspected is awaiting in her room with her hands out to be cuffed as she sees the tidewardens at her door. A demonic tome in her pocket is recovered and all she asks for is a public hearing and she will reveal all the names in the various cells in their end of the world cult.

Five days pass and crowds gather as Araroris makes her public confession pleading the world has already ended and it is hopeless to continue the prolonging of this haven. Anchor "Says he has not given up hope and he has been here much longer than Araroris, when the gods were still listening."

Notes

14th Palesun, Starweaver's Reckoning Fifth Day 1178 AoD

  • wrenn is a small spider, they are the witnesses

The arrest

  • Wren drops from small spider to a giant spider onto the table.
  • screams begin and the tidewardens come running due to the sting operation.
  • Dovus, pethi's mentor, says "why are you arresting our members?"
  • Venathrax calms the crowd that begins to appear.
  • the warden escort them to the cells under the council chambers
  • Belaia Bhovunath 231 year old female sea elf cleric.
  • Bugdurash Stormcaller 29 year old female orc labourer.
  • Domitila Quintana 30 year old female human cleric.
  • Varan Sylael-ForestBeauty 107 year old male drow merchant.
  • Soledad Leon49 year old female human cleric.
  • Kelnelis Calafin-LightHair 236 year old male drow shop assistant.
  • Vilston Murnraulfen 45 year old male gnome cleric.
  • Zondos Soversath 209 year old male sea elf hunter.
  • And the council has gathered along with to two tidewardens.
  • Corq foresaw Vash speaking with the council (used a 17 die roll) plus modifers
  • they all believe vash and the investigation.
  • Corq readies a Detect thoughts as they begin to question Domitila.
  • Xam asks who is their leader? the Champion
  • Pethi insight?
  • Corq probes, and feels despair, and deeper Araroris Calaarauth = champion of ara
  • Araroris Calaarauth = 616 year old female sea elf cleric, 2nd oldest member of the church.
  • we rush to the council
  • we tell Kureslion first and he tells them to arrest him, then turns to tell the rest of the council who all go pale.
  • we head back to the temple and Dovus steps in to say are their more?
  • Dovus almost faints when pethi tells them.
  • the knock on her door and she say enter, with her hands out to be cuffed when she sees us.
  • it will never end, but i am in the top.
  • did you start this? yes
  • why? she doesn't answer, he probed deeper, she succeed the save
  • where is the tome? she reaches into her side pouch and hands it over
  • turning to the tide wardens. Article 14. requests a public hearing. time jump
  • over 5 days they all plead guilty, none of those go to trial
  • Article 14,
  • 300 public members, council, tidewardens

Session Text

Text of The Meeting

The side room off the eastern corridor of the Pagoda of Ara was plain enough that most visitors to the temple likely never noticed it.

A dozen different groups used it throughout the week:

mourning circles
trade mediation
literacy lessons
neighborhood councils
private prayer meetings

Tonight, only a single lantern burned above the long wooden table at the center of the room.

The kettle hanging over the small brazier had already begun to hiss softly by the time the last of the Witnesses arrived.

Belaia closed the door behind her.

For several moments, no one spoke.

Vilston Murnraulfen finally broke the silence.

“Alar is gone.”

Bugdurash Stormcaller frowned immediately.
“The Tidewardens?”

“No,” Belaia answered.
“I do not believe so.”

That drew several uneasy glances around the table.

Kelnelis Calafin-LightHair leaned back slightly in his chair.
“Then the investigators reached him first.”

Nobody argued.

Domitila Quintana folded her hands together carefully.
“How much did he know?”

“Enough,” Belaia said quietly.

Zondos Soversath stared down at the grain of the table.
“He was uncertain long before this.”

“He was frightened,” Bugdurash muttered.

“He believed,” Belaia replied.

The room fell silent again after that.

Outside the chamber, faint footsteps echoed somewhere deeper in the temple halls before fading away again.

Varan Sylael-ForestBeauty finally spoke.

“If the dockworkers are exposed, then all gatherings should stop.”

“No,” said Soledad Leon immediately.
“That would draw attention faster than continuing.”

Varan nodded reluctantly.
“She’s right.”

Belaia moved slowly toward the brazier and poured steaming water into several cups without asking whether anyone wanted tea.

“The harbor work is finished,” she said.

“No one contacts remaining dockworkers.”
“No visits.”
“No written messages.”

Vilston rubbed tiredly at one eye.
“And if Alar speaks?”

Nobody answered immediately.

At last Kelnelis said quietly,
“Then the burden passes upward.”

That sentence seemed to settle heavily over the room.

Domitila looked toward Belaia.
“Has word been sent?”

“Yes.”

No one asked to whom.

Bugdurash shifted uneasily in her seat.
“And what was the response?”

Belaia set another cup onto the table.

“We continue carefully.”

“That is all.”

Varan frowned.
“That sounds like hesitation.”

“It sounds,” Soledad replied softly, “like patience.”

Zondos finally looked up.

“The city is already restless.”

“The shipyard closure frightened people.”

“And now investigators are moving through the temple.”

Vilston gave a humorless laugh under his breath.
“Investigators breaking into private homes.”

No one smiled.

After a long silence, Domitila spoke again.

“If the Council learns what the harbor work truly was—”

“They won’t,” Belaia interrupted.

The answer came too quickly.

That seemed to bother even her.

For several seconds the only sound in the chamber was the faint simmering of the kettle.

Finally Soledad spoke.

“The work in the harbor failed.”

“But the truth behind it did not.”

No one responded directly to that.

At the far end of the table, Varan rested both hands against the wood and said quietly:

“How many more generations do we ask to survive like this?”

Again, silence.

Then Belaia answered.

“As many as still mistake survival for victory.”

No prayers followed.

No ceremony closed the meeting.

Eventually the Witnesses simply began leaving one by one, never all at once, disappearing quietly back into the ordinary nighttime life of the Pagoda.

Council Meeting Text

Text of The Confession

The chamber remains silent after Kuserlion grants her permission to speak. Araroris Calaarauth stands alone before the Council of Thirteen. No chains bind her wrists. No Tidewarden stands at her shoulder. She has not attempted to flee. She has not denied the accusations. For several moments she simply looks around the room. At the councilors. At the Tidewardens. At the adventurers who uncovered the Covenant. When she finally speaks, her voice is calm.

"My name is Araroris Calaarauth."

A faint smile touches her face.

"My name means Champion of Ara. My parents chose it before I was born."

She lets the words settle.

"They believed I would serve the goddess. They believed I would be blessed. They believed the future would be better than the past."

Her eyes drift briefly toward the windows overlooking the harbor.

"They were good people. And they were wrong."

Several councilors shift in their seats.

Araroris continues.

"I am six hundred and sixteen years old. I have lived on this island longer than most families can remember their own histories. I have buried grandparents, parents, children, students, friends, and teachers. I have watched generations come and go. I have watched this city for more than half of its existence."

She pauses.

"When I was young, there were still mages who remembered the old teachings. There were still books no one can read today. There were still crafts that have since been forgotten. There were still songs whose meanings are now lost."

Her gaze moves slowly across the council.

"Each generation believed it would rebuild what had been lost. Each generation inherited less than the one before it."

The room remains quiet.

"We tell ourselves that civilization survives. But survival is not growth. We tell ourselves that we endure. But endurance is not victory."

Her eyes settle briefly on Kuserlion.

"You are older than I am, Councilor. You have seen it too."

The ancient sea elf says nothing.

Araroris continues.

"When I was a child, there were more people who could work magic. When I was a child, there were more books. More knowledge. More skill. More memory."

She slowly spreads her hands.

"The population grows. The city expands. And yet our achievements become smaller. We celebrate preserving things our ancestors would have considered commonplace."

A few councilors visibly bristle. She does not acknowledge it.

"For centuries I prayed. Every morning. Every evening. Every holy day. I prayed when ships departed. I prayed when children died. I prayed when storms came. I prayed when friends were buried. I prayed because I believed Ara was listening."

Her expression does not change.

"She never answered."

The chamber is utterly silent.
"Not once. I do not say this in anger. I do not say this as an accusation. It is simply the truth."

She folds her hands in front of her.

"Eventually I stopped asking why the gods had abandoned us. I began asking a different question. What if they never intended to save us at all?"

A murmur passes through the chamber. Araroris ignores it.

"Ten years ago I found others asking the same question. Not criminals. Not monsters. People. People who had spent their lives waiting. People who had grown tired of pretending."

The Covenant is not mentioned by name.

It does not need to be.

"We spoke. We argued. We grieved. And eventually we reached a conclusion."

She looks directly at the Council.

"Agrovionimb is not hope. It is denial."

The words land harder than any admission of guilt.

"The city tells itself a story. That somewhere beyond the sea there is salvation. That the next ship will succeed. That the next generation will discover something the previous generation did not. That tomorrow will be different."

She gestures toward the harbor beyond the settlement hall.

"For one thousand one hundred and thirty-seven years, every expedition has vanished. Not one has returned. Not one. And still we build another."

A long silence follows.

Finally she says:

"The Dawn Seeker is not hope. It is merely the latest chapter in the story."

A councilor speaks.

"You tried to doom the city."

Araroris turns toward the voice.

"Yes."

The answer comes immediately. Not defensive. Not ashamed. Matter-of-fact.

"I attempted to ensure that Agrovionimb shared the fate of the world it claims to mourn."

Gasps echo through the chamber.

Araroris continues before anyone can interrupt.

"Because I believe the alternative is worse."

The room grows quiet again.

"I believe every child born here inherits a promise we cannot keep. I believe every expedition asks people to die for a future that does not exist. I believe we have mistaken survival for success."

Her eyes move across the room one final time.

"You may imprison me. You may execute me. You may dismantle every part of the Covenant. I do not object."

She pauses.

"But tomorrow morning there will still be people who wake before dawn and wonder whether I was right."

The silence that follows is absolute. Not because the chamber agrees with her. But because every person present understands that she believes every word she has spoken.

Venathrax's Rebuttal

“I agree with Araroris Calaarauth.”

“She’s right. The gods aren’t coming to save us. We are all that we have.”

“I sympathize with a holy woman losing her faith. I too feel resentment for the empty prayers that go unanswered. I understand the overwhelming urge to just give up…”

“But where we differ is that I choose to not give up.”

“If you choose to give in to despair, then you are welcome to walk out into the ocean and end your existence. But how dare you choose for all of us. The hubris! The hypocrisy! These cowards chose to destroy our entire civilization, to exterminate every man, woman, and child on this island. And for what? Because they’ve lost hope?”

“I do not have the wisdom of six centuries. I did not have the blessing of parents’ expectations. I never heard a father’s words of encouragement. I never felt a mother’s gentle touch. But I found a family. When I was young, this community gathered around me and took me in and cared for me and it is because of this community that I stand here today.”

“Today and every day, I see hope. I see couples who choose love over isolation. I see parents who choose to have children so that they will carry on. I see the faithful still coming together to pray, even though their prayers receive no answer, because in coming together they receive fellowship and in the words they receive comfort. I see our community building a ship to send out across the sea, not as an act of futility, but as an act of defiance. I see people who are willing to keep fighting, not because they are afraid, but because they have something worth fighting for. And when I look into the eyes of our children, I see the promise of the future they will build.”

“When we protect each other, we protect our civilization. When we survive, every day we pull back from the edge of complete extinction, that is a victory. Because, with each new day and each new generation, we have a chance.”

“Araroris would undoubtedly call me a fool. She would say that I am naive. Perhaps even deluded. She believes our world has already ended. But Araroris is wrong.”

“Our world has not ended. We preserve it every day. We nurture it in every child. And, with time and care, there is even yet a chance that our civilization may spread out beyond the confines of this island once more.”

“Look at me and my fellow Swamp Survivors, for we are living proof. Magic still exists. Valor still exists. The ability to dream of greater things and the courage to chase after those dreams still exist. There are still mysteries that elude and entice us. There are far shores that call out to us – yes, with danger – but also with possibility. Knowledge lost can be rediscovered. Skills forgotten can be relearned. And we can do more. We can be more. But only if we do not give up.”

“I will not give up. I will not allow despair to control me. I choose to stand with the community that stood with me. I choose defiance. I choose hope.”

Venathrax raises a scaly black fist high into the air.

“I volunteer for The Dawn Seeker.”

Araroris's Reply

"You are a good man, Venathrax."

"I believe everything you just said."

"I once said those same things myself."

"I spoke of courage."

"I spoke of perseverance."

"I spoke of faith."

"Then I watched expedition after expedition vanish into the sea."

"I watched century after century pass."

"I watched prayers go unanswered."

"And I waited."

"For six hundred years, I waited."

"You say hope."

"I say evidence."

"You see possibility."

"I see eleven centuries."

"You volunteered for the Dawn Seeker."

"Good."

"I sincerely hope you succeed."

"Gods know I hoped the same thing once."

"But hope is not a plan."

"And courage is not proof."

"If you find another shore and survive, then I will have been wrong."

"When you do not..."

"Then one day you will understand why I did what I did."

Venathrax's Reply

Venathrax spits at Araroris's feet. A slight sizzle can be heard and a tiny plume of smoke rises from the spot.

"Even if I live a thousand years, I will never understand the treachery you've committed."

"If you so fervently wish for death over hope, my comrade Anchor is waiting outside to give you that which you desire."

Venathrax turns his head and runs his gaze across all of the conspirators present.

"And that invitation goes for all of you!"

Pethi's Reply

Pethi bows to Venathrax. “Well said friend. Hope is a powerful thing. My parents left on the last expedition. They had hope and they also had faith. While the gods do not appear to us, we do not hear their voices, that doesn't mean hope is gone as Venathrax said, and neither has faith. Faith in our community, our families, either by blood or by bonds, and our future is worth living for. Dovos had faith in me and raised me to be the person I am now. We have faith in each other. Faith doesn't require the gods, it requires a community. A community like we have here. And it has served us well all these years.

We believe in our neighbors. We live in our communities that give us strength. That strength gives us hope. And that hope gives us faith. As a member of the Temple of Ara, I get to see this every day. We look at our our parents, children, siblings, friends, coworkers, and those we interact with everyday and we make connections. Those connections create an event. And that event inspires others to take action.

As Venathrax said, look at the connections we as the Swamp Survivors have created. It has created faith that our prayers are still being heard. Those prayers don't need to be heard by the gods, but by a collective such as we have here. A child is drowning, prayers are sent. Those nearby hear those prayers and spring to action saving the child. Now the child is safe and is no longer blue. That is the power of faith and prayer. Sometimes those prayers don't go answered, but we still grow as those around us give us the strength to continue. Whatever we’re praying for may not change, but we change. Our actions, decisions, and responses are affected. And we grow from that.

We may find ourselves sitting next to someone at a tavern, or in a room in the temple, or during our jobs. We strike up a conversation that leads to the creation of an event. The event we work on inspires others to take action in our community. The ripple effects created by that result from consciously connecting to something greater than ourselves. This is the power of faith. This is the power of prayer. And we see that every day here.

Faith doesn't require the gods. Looking for the gods to solve all our problems is the easy path. A path for those who don't have faith. But looking for those we surround ourselves with, our community, is the path that brings strength, hope and faith. We don't need the gods so long as we have each other. Sometimes we lose that faith such as you felt you have. It is the nature of the world we live in. But I also see the spark of hope in everyone here in Agrovionimb. I see it in even in you still Araroris. You just said you hope the Dawn Seeker succeeds. Even with your attempt at destroying it, you still have hope. That hope gives me, Pethi Wiselander, strength and faith in our efforts. And that hope and faith will power us for years, decades, centuries to come no matter the actions of you and those on trial here attempted, or the efforts of the Dawn Seeker. We have each other and that's all the faith we need.

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