I am thoroughly enjoying this game, exploring an era of history I love and frankly it is refreshing to see a game take on the apparently taboo subject of including Christianity in a game. Love the way this developing!
SESSION TWO
Begin session two. Osric leaves the chapel and the priest behind him. With the priest’s blessing, he feels confident he is moving in the right direction, and this time with purpose. His feet stop moving when he realizes he is looking at his feet as he walked. To himself he mutters “Faith and purpose in life is not found at your feet,” and raises his gaze to the village of Grimwatch.
ChatGPT said:
Session Two: The Hunter’s Truth
The village of Grimwatch stretches before Osric, small and unremarkable, yet heavy with an unseen weight. Smoke drifts lazily from a few cottage chimneys, the scent of damp wood and roasting barley clinging to the cold autumn air. A few villagers move through the mist, their steps hurried, their gazes averted—as though fearing to linger too long in the open.
Osric’s words to himself still echo in his mind.
"Faith and purpose in life is not found at your feet."
He lifts his head fully now, taking in the wooden palisade, the distant forest beyond, the hollow sky above. The world is wide, and his path is forward.
His next step is toward Eadric the Hunter.
The Old Smithy
The smithy sits at the village’s edge, just beyond the chapel. It is a forgotten place, the forge cold, the anvil abandoned, as if the work of shaping iron ceased long ago. What remains is a ruin of industry—rusted tools, charred timbers, and an old wooden post, split and cracked from exposure to the elements.
Osric sees him before he speaks.
Eadric.
A gaunt man, tall but hunched, sitting near the broken forge. His hair is long, tangled, streaked with early gray despite his youth. His eyes, sharp and restless, flicker toward Osric like a beast assessing a threat. A bow leans against the wall beside him, its string taut, well-kept. This is not a man who has let himself fall into ruin—only one who has chosen to stand apart from the world.
He does not greet Osric.
Instead, he studies him, silent, unblinking. His fingers idly trace the haft of a hunting knife, though they do not grip it in aggression. Not yet.
Then, finally, a voice—low, coarse, like dry leaves in the wind.
"You carry the weight of the chapel on your shoulders," Eadric mutters. "What does the old man send you for?"
His tone is wary. Not unkind, but not welcoming.
Osric stands before the hunter now, beneath the gray sky, beside the cold forge.
How does he approach the man?
Directly—Osric tells him exactly what he needs: a guide into the forest.
Cautiously—Osric feels out Eadric’s disposition, gaining his trust before asking.
With authority—Osric makes it clear that the priest has sent him and that the hunter should obey.
You said:
Osric stands in a wide stance, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. A warrior’s stance. “Evil resides near,” he says flatly, almost groveling. “The priest has sent me to end it. I require a guide.”
ChatGPT said:
Eadric's gaze narrows, flicking over Osric’s stance, his weapon, the weight in his words. For a long moment, he says nothing. The wind shifts through the village, rustling the dead leaves at their feet.
Then, a slow, bitter smirk curls at the edge of the hunter’s lips.
"Evil?" he echoes, voice dry as bark. "And you mean to end it?" He snorts softly, shaking his head. "The priest must be desperate, sending a sword against something that does not bleed."
His fingers tap idly against the hilt of his hunting knife. It is a small movement, but measured, deliberate. Eadric is thinking. Calculating.
"You think me a guide?" He tilts his head slightly. "No, soldier. I am a man who has walked those woods and returned with my wits barely intact."
He leans forward, his voice lowering. "Do you know what it is you face? Or has the priest only given you riddles?"
He does not reject Osric outright. But there is something behind his eyes—something Osric has seen before. Fear. Not the kind that makes men flee, but the kind that makes them hesitate when they should act.
If Osric wants Eadric’s help, he must convince him.
Faith – "God has sent me here for a reason. If you are afraid, let my faith be stronger."
Honor – "You have survived the woods, Eadric. Others have not. Help me, so that more do not die."
Force of Will – "I will go into the woods with or without you. But if you have seen it, you know I stand a better chance with your knowledge."
Which does Osric choose?
You said:
Osric removes his hand from the hilt. “I don’t know if God sent me or I am just following a fanciful dream, but I am here for a reason. I believe that reason is to help save these people. Your people.” He extends his hand to Eadric, “I could use a steady hand like yours beside me. Help me cleanse this foul thing from the forest. Help me give these people hope. What do you say?”
ChatGPT said:
Eadric stares at Osric’s outstretched hand. His fingers tighten around his knife, then relax. His smirk fades, and something—a memory, a doubt, a war within him—flickers across his face.
For a long moment, he does not move.
The wind shifts, pushing the mist through the village streets, carrying the distant sound of a hammer striking iron from a far-off cottage.
Then, with a slow, tired sigh, Eadric reaches out and clasps Osric’s hand. His grip is firm, calloused from years of drawing a bow, skin rough like old leather.
“Hope.” He lets the word settle, as if testing its weight on his tongue. Then, softer: “It has been some time since I have believed in such things.”
He releases Osric’s hand and stands, slinging his bow over his shoulder. There is no mirth in his gaze, but there is resolve.
“I will take you to the woods,” he says. “But know this—once we cross that threshold, we walk into a place that does not welcome men.”
His voice lowers, and there is a shadow in his expression. “There are things in the dark, soldier. And they are waiting.”
Next Steps
Eadric will guide Osric into the forest, but they must prepare.
They need supplies—rations, torches, and perhaps something of faith to guard against the evil that lingers.
The village blacksmith may have something of use.
The priest may know of relics or blessings that could aid them.
What does Osric do next?
You said:
“Let’s visit the village market, gather gear we will need, food, torches, rope. With your experience, I am sure you have ideas of what we need,” he nods to the chapel. Then turns back to gage Eadric’s reaction. “Mayhaps we should visit the priest again, it is possible he has something to help guard from the evil you expect to encounter…?”
ChatGPT said:
Eadric nods slowly, his gaze shifting toward the chapel for a fleeting moment before returning to Osric. His expression is unreadable, but there is a flicker of unease.
"The priest…" he mutters, rubbing his jaw. "He may have his relics, his blessings. But I have seen things that prayers alone cannot stop."
Still, he does not refuse.
"Very well," he says at last. "But first, we gather what we can from the market. We may not get another chance."
The Village Market
Grimwatch’s marketplace is little more than a wide clearing where a handful of villagers sell what they can spare. The air smells of damp earth and smoke, the goods are modest, and the people wary. They eye Osric and Eadric as they pass, whispering among themselves.
At the center of the market stands a trader, a woman wrapped in a thick woolen cloak, her hands stained from years of hard labor. Her table holds a small assortment of goods—simple things, but useful.
Available Supplies:
Rations (3 days’ worth) – 5 coins
Torches (Bundle of 5) – 3 coins
Rope (30 feet) – 4 coins
Flint & Steel – 2 coins
Small Iron Charm (Marked with a Cross) – 6 coins
Eadric eyes the wares with a hunter’s keen sense, then glances at Osric.
"We won’t need much," he says. "But light is important. And food. The woods are not kind to the unprepared."
Osric checks his coin pouch. His funds are limited—he will have to choose wisely.
What does Osric buy?
(Or does he attempt to bargain with the trader?)
You said:
We did not roll to determine Osric’s wealth at the beginning of session one. Please determine how much coin he has now.
ChatGPT said:
Osric checks his coin pouch and finds 5 coins—a modest sum, barely enough for essential supplies. He will need to spend wisely or attempt to bargain with the trader.
With his limited funds, he can afford:
Rations (3 days' worth) – 5 coins (leaving him with nothing)
Torches (Bundle of 5) – 3 coins (leaving him with 2)
Rope (30 feet) – 4 coins (leaving him with 1)
Flint & Steel – 2 coins (leaving him with 3)
Alternatively, he could attempt to bargain or barter for better prices.
What does Osric do?
You said:
Osric will attempt to barter to get a bundle of torches, a flint and steel, and rations for 2 days with all his coin.
ChatGPT said:
Osric steps forward, setting his coin pouch on the trader’s worn wooden table. The woman eyes him warily, her fingers drumming against the rough grain of the wood. She is a hard woman, one who has known hunger and loss, and she does not part with her wares lightly.
"Five coins won’t buy all that," she says flatly. "Not in times like these."
Osric meets her gaze. He knows desperation—he has lived it. But he also knows that survival is more than coin—it is need, it is fairness, it is wisdom. He gestures toward the market, the people watching from a distance.
"I do not ask for charity," he says. "I ask for a fair deal. You know what I seek to do. If I fail, if the thing in the woods grows stronger, what use is coin when you have no peace?"
Eadric grunts softly beside him but does not interfere. This is Osric’s bargain to make.
Roll 2d6 + Presence to barter. (Difficulty 8)
You said:
8
ChatGPT said:
The trader’s eyes narrow as she weighs Osric’s words. There is a long pause, the only sound the wind pushing through the market square.
She exhales sharply, shaking her head. “You are either a fool or a man who truly believes in what he is doing.” She picks up Osric’s five coins, letting them jingle in her palm for a moment.
“Fine. I’ll give you the torches and flint, and two days' rations. But know this—if you fail, if you don’t return, your ghost best not come haunting my doorstep.”
She quickly gathers the supplies, placing them into a small cloth satchel and pushing it toward Osric.
Osric’s Acquired Gear:
Torches (5)
Flint & Steel
Rations (2 days’ worth)
Osric’s Coin Pouch: 0 Coins Remaining
Eadric gives Osric a sidelong glance. “Not bad,” he mutters, adjusting his bow. “Now, the priest?”
The hunter still seems uneasy about the idea, but he does not argue. He simply waits for Osric’s decision.
Does Osric go to the priest now, or does he press Eadric for more information about the woods before they leave?
You said:
Please update Osric’s character sheet with this information.
ChatGPT said:
Memory updated
Osric now has his supplies, and the weight of zero coin in his pouch reminds him that he must make the most of what he has.
Eadric waits, arms crossed, watching him. The choice is clear.
Seek the priest once more – Perhaps the old man has something to offer—a relic, a blessing, or knowledge to guard against the darkness.
Press Eadric for more information – The hunter has walked the woods and seen things that haunt him still. What does he know that Osric does not?
What does Osric do?
You said:
“Let’s see the priest, glean what information we can from him….maybe a meal too,” his stomach grumbles with hunger. “I’d rather save the rations for the woods. Maybe we can pry a relic or something out of his crypts to help us in this task.” He claps his new friend on the shoulders, “Come, my glum friend. We will dine, speak with the holy man, divine what we can from him, and then be on our way into your woods.”
ChatGPT said:
Eadric stiffens slightly at the clap on his shoulder, unused to such familiarity, but he does not pull away. Instead, he lets out a quiet grunt, shaking his head. "Glum, am I?" he mutters. "You won't be laughing when you're knee-deep in the rot of those woods."
Still, he follows.
Return to the Chapel
The chapel is just as they left it—quiet, old, and watching. The wooden beams groan as the wind presses against them, and the scent of tallow candles and damp earth still lingers in the air. The priest stands near the altar, as if he had never moved.
He looks up as Osric and Eadric enter, his keen eyes settling first on Osric’s empty coin pouch, then on Eadric’s wary expression. He sees what has changed since they last stood before him.
"You have chosen your path," the priest says, more statement than question.
Osric nods. "We leave soon, but we need information." He steps forward, setting his hands on the wooden railing before the altar. "The Hollow Man. The ruins in the woods. Whatever you can tell us—whatever relics you have that might aid us."
The priest exhales slowly, running a hand over his weathered face. "I will give what I can," he says. "But listen well—faith is your greatest weapon. If you do not believe, no relic will save you."
What the Priest Knows
The Ruins in the Woods – They were there before the first men of Grimwatch settled these lands. Older than the Cross, older than even the pagans. The stones bear no words, only symbols that no scholar has been able to decipher. Some say it was once a place of worship. Others say it was a place of binding.
The Hollow Man – No one agrees on what it is. Some say it was once a man, a sinner cursed to wander the forest until the end of time. Others say it is something that wears the shape of a man, but is not one. It does not kill as men do—it takes, and those it takes are never whole again."
Signs of Its Presence – "The air turns heavy. The woods go silent. Your breath will feel like frost in your lungs, even in summer. And then—" the priest's voice lowers, "you will feel it watching you, before you ever see it."
Eadric shifts uncomfortably at this.
The Priest’s Offering
The priest steps away from the altar, opening a small wooden chest near the back of the chapel. He rummages for a moment, then removes three items, placing them on the altar before Osric and Eadric.
A Simple Iron Cross (Small, crude, but iron holds power over certain evils. To bear this may keep lesser spirits at bay.)
A Vial of Consecrated Oil (A few drops upon a weapon may bless it against unholy creatures—but it will not last long.)
A Fragment of Scripture (An old passage, written in Latin, detailing a banishment rite. The words alone hold no power unless spoken with true faith.)
The priest looks at Osric. "Take one. I cannot spare more. Choose wisely."
Which does Osric take?
You said:
Osric’s stomach growls, he blushes. “Father, might we trouble you to share a meal? Break bread together, to strengthen our resolve, build our bonds of friendship, and steel our faith. Might the church share a meal for two humble servants?” He smiles pleadingly. “We can discuss these three wonders, the virtues of each, and the value each may present us in the coming battle, over a humble meal.”
ChatGPT said:
The priest watches Osric for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a quiet huff of amusement, he nods.
"A soldier with an empty belly is no soldier at all," he mutters. "Come. Let us eat."
Breaking Bread
The priest leads them to a small back room, scarcely more than a storeroom, where a simple wooden table sits near an old stone hearth. A pot of stew, thick with barley and root vegetables, bubbles faintly over the low embers, its scent earthy, warm, and familiar.
The priest ladles portions into rough clay bowls, placing one before Osric and Eadric, then sitting himself. He tears a round of dark bread, passing the pieces between them.
"It is not much," he says, "but it is enough."
The three eat in companionable silence at first, the warmth of the meal easing the chill from their bones. The wind howls outside, pressing against the chapel walls, but here, in this small and sacred space, there is warmth.
"Now," the priest says, dipping his bread into the stew, "tell me your thoughts."
Osric sets his spoon down, looking at the three relics still laid upon the table.
The Iron Cross – Practical, solid. A deterrent against spirits and lesser evils. But is it enough?
The Consecrated Oil – Powerful, but temporary. A weapon blessed with it could strike true against the unholy—but only for a short time.
The Fragment of Scripture – Words of banishment. A risk—powerful only if Osric’s faith is strong enough.
Eadric chews slowly, eyeing the items. "You know my thoughts," he mutters, wiping his mouth. "A blade does more good than words."
The priest arches a brow. "You are sure of that, hunter?"
Eadric scowls but does not answer.
The decision, as always, rests with Osric.
Which relic does he choose?
You said:
Osric ponders a moment, chewing a piece of bread, moist with stew. “Hard steel sounds like the best option, but I wonder if it be strong enough to ward a spirit as strong as the one before us.” He pauses a moment, letting his companions speak if they wish. “The oil too, could serve us well…especially give Eadric’s fondness for blades and arrows. But I wonder if a blade - even one blessed - could smite this foul spirit.” Again, a dramatic pause. “Now, we come to scripture, a prize most strong. With perhaps the chance to cause the spirit to withdraw to where it came from.” “The first two relics may help us subdue the dark thing, but what then?” He pauses again, looking around the table. “Only the scripture can offer us a clear resolution. Banishment.” “What say you, Eadric?”
ChatGPT said:
Eadric leans back in his chair, chewing the last of his bread thoughtfully. His brow is furrowed, his gaze lingering on the fragment of scripture before them.
"I am no priest," he mutters, "and I have seen things steel and fire could not touch. I won’t argue that words—true words—may hold power over such things."
He crosses his arms, sighing. "But I do not trust what I do not understand." He meets Osric’s gaze, his voice low. "If you take it, you’d best be sure you believe in it. Because if your faith falters—if the words fail—you will have only your sword left to save you."
The priest watches the exchange with quiet patience.
"Faith is tested in fire," he says, "and true faith does not come without doubt. If this is what you choose, Osric, know that you must believe in what you speak. It is not the parchment that holds power—it is the soul of the man who speaks it."
Eadric exhales sharply through his nose. "So be it, then." He taps the scripture with two fingers. "Just be sure you’re strong enough when the time comes."
The decision is made.
Osric chooses the Fragment of Scripture.
The priest takes the parchment carefully, rolling it and securing it with a leather tie before placing it in Osric’s hands.
"It is not the words alone that will banish the Hollow Man," he warns. "You must speak them with conviction. If your faith wavers, if your voice shakes—the darkness will know."
Osric nods, taking the scripture and placing it safely among his belongings.
Final Preparations
The meal is finished. The relic is chosen.
The road into the forest awaits.
The priest rises, pressing a hand to Osric’s shoulder. "Go with God, my son. Do not let fear shape your path. You were spared for a reason—now walk the road before you."
Eadric pulls his cloak tighter around himself. "We leave before the sun sets. The woods are dark enough by day—I won’t be caught in them after nightfall."
They step out into the cold air.
The forest looms on the horizon, waiting.
Session Two Ends.
Next Session Preview
Osric and Eadric enter the woods, following the path to the ruins.
Signs of the Hollow Man’s presence will appear.
The first true test of faith—and steel—awaits
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