Be Like A Crow, Gothic Crow: Entry 1

I'm playing through a game of Be Like A Crow, and will be recording my entries here. 

After the narrative portion of each Entry I'll make a list of the Prompts I drew during that section. My plan is to avoid/redraw duplicate prompts, unless they make narrative sense to run a second time. (Ex. a recurring enemy.) Staying true to the guidance in the book, I'll adjust some prompts in minor ways to ensure they fit narratively. In that vein, I mention the vampire bat familiar that Juveniles gain in the Gothic setting in this entry, although I'm not yet factoring in his stat benefits. I figured it makes more sense to have the character already present, then later gain the ability to summon them when advancing to the next lifestage.

 

Setting: Gothic Crow

Name: Slipshade the Raven
 

Age: Fledgling
 

Description: Undersized for a raven, with clouded eyes. Missing one toe on my left foot. A pair of human wedding rings encircle my right ankle.

 

The Nest I created is cradled amongst the jagged peaks to the North of the Inner Sea. My humans had a name for this place, before they faded into the aether; I know it no longer. An eerily silent waterfall surges beneath my tree. I cannot hear the falling stream make contact with the greater pool beneath. The tree is of that rare breed that never offers its leaves to the changing of the seasons, and was, I am convinced, grown here through some ancient magic. It is the only tree of its kind amongst these lonely mountaintops. 

The library had never been lonely, filled as it was with their works and scents. The mages raised me from my hatching to accompany them on their hunts. He taught me the means to recognize the sickening taste of dark magic; she taught me how to bury it away. 

I am still young. If I were not, then perhaps they would not have fallen while I watched in horror. If I were a wiser bird, a braver friend, I would not be wearing their rings as a constant reminder of my failure. Besides the blood, only these metal circlets had remained when the beasts had eaten their fill. Shame burned through me as I recovered them, and helped me work the spell of binding upon them.
 

These rings will not be loosed until I have done the good they would have given to the world. I fear they will adorn the bones I leave behind. 

 No good can come of my brooding. The foul caress of the unseen ruffles my neck feathers, as it does every dawn. Crepus, my vampire bat familiar, looms in my vision seemingly from nowhere. His nightly patrol brings news of trouble at the Ghost Town to the South.

I flex my mangled foot, shake away the memories, both good and bad, and take wing.

I fly Southeast, above the waterfall. Nearly as soon as the wind first begins to grant me lift, I am hounded by a mundane terror. It seems a hostile gull has begun to build a nest along the cliff edge. If I did not have an evil to quell, perhaps I would be drawn into the gull's display of violence. As it stands, I tilt my wings to the right, hoping to circle far enough away to evade its ire. Too little, too late, it seems. 

The gull leaps into the sky, its beak charting a course towards my breast. Thankfully, the altitude is on my side; I sidestep the gull's thrust, and peck at its exposed back, injuring the fool. I almost mock it with a caw before its webbed foot injures me in turn. Shaken, my second jab goes wide. The gull is slow on its turn, and I'm able to recover before it can take advantage of my stupor. While it tries to gain altitude for a second pass, I quickly fold my wings tight, and plummet parallel to the waterfall to escape.

When I open my wings mere feet above the Inner Sea, I let the cool winds carry me Southeast along the coast. I keep a keen eye on the shoreline to search for anything of interest. I recognize the flash of red in an instant; teaching me how to recover with the usage of Blood Ivy was one of the first things my humans had done.

I swoop low to snatch the Ivy. As I float gently in circles above the water, I immediately crush some of the seedpods with my beak. Rubbing the juices into my injury causes the pain to slowly ebb away. The bounty was plentiful, and I keep the remaining Blood Ivy clutched in my beak. The ability to heal is only ignored by minds clouded with stupidity or pride, and I choked mine down when I left them to their final rest.

The wind coming down from the mountains above carries me further along the coast with minimal effort. Seemingly from nowhere, a rusted locket streaks towards me, carried by an eldritch breeze. I evade it more on instinct, and it brushes my wingtips as it hurtles towards the Inner Sea. As it splashes into the waves, the chain gets caught on a floating piece of driftwood. I consider taking this shiny for my own, but there is something unsavory about its aura that convinces me to carry on.

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Objective 1: A Living Doll is trying to create an army of undead cultists. Head to the abandoned theater and try to stop them.

Prompt 1: A hostile gull is protecting their territory. Enter combat or make an evade check to avoid then. If you choose to evade, you must travel to a hex immediately to your left and right before taking another turn.

Prompt 2: Create your own event or draw again from this table. "Make a Search check to see if you spot anything useful along the coast." Success: Found [a red ivy root: this rare plant has healing properties. Each ration heals one injury (two uses).]

Prompt 3: A tailwind gives you haste. Advance immediately to any adjacent hex.

Prompt 4: [A locket with a torn photograph. Whilst carrying this, you feel an enormous sense of dread. Your first turn in a new hex must be made with a penalty.] comes hurtling towards you on the breeze. Make a successful evade check, or it hits you causing one injury. The object falls to the ground and you can land in your current hex to retrieve it.