KALAT

Executioner 3

The Oblivion Flayer makes its way into Sifi’s hands. Then, trying to escape the city, Sifi makes quick use of it, eliminating a soldier and stealing their horse.

S5 The Smuggler

Scorched, Sifi’s billowing cape flies behind. The horse he rides on whinnies. He looks around. “Come on, come on…Leslie, where are you?”

Peeking out of a bush, the smuggler calls out to Sifi. “Pst, here, boyo!”

Halting, the horse whinnies. Sifi turns his head, scanning around. “Where? Leslie? Is that you?”

Cloth wrapped around the head, and simple rags. Leslie raises a brooch, with the mark of the storm mother. “Here, bandit.”

The two commiserate. A brief respite.

Sifi speaks to him. “They’ve done it, Leslie. They killed my —”

“Don’t speak, lad. You’re bleeding.” Leslie wraps his two hands around Sifi, and brings him down from his mount.

With an incantation, blue and grey mist flows out of Leslie’s mouth. He hovers his hands over Sifi’s wounds, which sputter and end their bleeding.

“Storm mother forgive me.”

Silence over the two. “Thank you, Leslie.”

“Child, there is an exit. I must lead you to it, but there are assenters to the crown who guard it. They’ve betrayed us, Sifi. We must bring them their rightful punishment.”

“So we shall Leslie.”

S6 Out, and Away

Sharp bones, the scent of boiling blood and burning flesh, and dark smoke. The heretic bandit encampment that protects the once free to travel through West Exit of the Forbidden City.

Riding up, Sifi stands on his steed. Broad spear across his right arm, and a dagger in the left hand. Six surly figures come ahead, and one attempts to speak.

“Intruder, halt where you stand — Sifi, is that y—”

Oblivion Flayer comes coursing through the air towards one of the six.

Hovering above the ground, Leslie unleashes a mighty blue spark of electricity. It courses wildly in the air, directing itself at one of the men.

The victim instantly cowers, his body involuntarily spasming violently. Wet gurgles, darkening skin, and bleeding, and the man falls.

Two bowmen sling their bone bows, and make their strikes at Sifi.

But their arrows fly wide into the city — and Sifi comes barreling down from above, Oblivion Flayer overhead.

As the dagger sinks in to the first man, Sifi immediately retracts it. He dextrously turns to the next man. Glaring red blood-hungry eyes, curtained by his shock white hair.

The other three bandits attack Leslie, who is storming above. They throw pebbles, and rocks at him.

One more of the bandits falls. Their pebbles stop in mid air just inches away from Leslie’s hovering body. Cloths and rags cindering around him, flakes of black ash falling down. Then, at speeds faster than the eye can track, the rocks blast back towards the bandits. Two of them barely dodge, but one catches a missile, sending his body rocking backwards, and falls.

The one bandit Sifi is face to face with tries to stab with his own shortsword, unsheathing and screaming “Betrayer!”

“Enough!” Sifi retorts, lunging back and making his own bet for the man’s life. The corpse on the ground lays, mangled and soulless.

Sifi’s strike is too wild. It flails onto a wooden cabinet, and some pictures come flying off of it. “Give up, and be done with it!” Sifi shouts.

Leslie continues in to the encampment now. The other two who dodged remain on the ground, painfully grunting and in hysterics. “Sifi, quickly be done with that one! We must go, before the Phalanxes arrive!”

Leslie doesn’t see the two bandits crawl away, and leave. The look on their faces turns grim.

Sifi is in close tussle with the final bandit, who screams “Not you, too! Deserters!” As he pommels Sifi, grappling and trying to strike down at him with the sword.

Sifi weaves free of the grapple, as the bandit strikes and inadvertently gives Sifi a window of opportunity. Sifi takes it, slinging upward at the man’s chest with his black dagger.

Finally, the man jolts and grunts as the blade casts him to oblivion. “Be gone! Be gone! Be gone!” Sifi shouts repeatedly, as he pushes the man down on to the ground. Then, Leslie comes grabbing him, hands on Sifi’s shoulders: “Let go of him, comrade. Come on, the door is right there!”

Panting, Sifi retracts the blade. Exhaling, the bandit lays flat on the ground. A final whisper, “Storm, moeder, zegene je.”

Sifi and Leslie escape out of the tunnel in the encampment, running out of the city gates.

Reflection

Thanks for reading Session 3. This one came out easier and typed way faster than the previous sessions. I'm enjoying this so far, and look forward to seeing what comes next. I'm thinking that the dagger Sifi got was too strong, and that Leslie rolled super well haha.

Mythic Bungalow Prep

Another system that I've been wanting to play with others, but might end up just soloing, is Mythic Bastionland. Incredible flavor and light prep, that spans a great campaign. There's a Quinn's Quest video on it, check that out.

2026-03-06 — Removed all the codeblocks from this post. Incredibly weird issue going on there. Maybe I'll return to this, but for now this'll remain a fiction only post.