Session 9 — Every Good Story Needs a Time Skip
Winter in Valinport. Old wounds. New habits. And the first corpse of a new chapter.
Winter had settled in deep by the time The Blades of Strangeways were all in the same room again.
Not on the road. Not in a dungeon. Not standing over something horrible with their weapons still out. Just… an inn. Warmth. Stew. The ordinary. It felt wrong at first, like trying to wear clothes that belonged to someone else.
Gideon Kael arrived last.
He came in like a man carrying a storm—packing already in his mind, armor more worn, shoulders broader, hair longer, a fresh scar cutting his chin like punctuation. The night they died had left a mark on him that training couldn’t sand down. He blamed himself. He said it plainly, the way Gideon always did: he hadn’t protected them. He wasn’t sure he deserved to stand beside them again. He hugged Zel Cunningham goodbye as if it might be the last time.
Leda Gebhart, never delicate about anything, told him to look at Zel one more time.
And Zel—quietly, bravely, like offering proof—showed him her pointed ears.
A truth revealed. A promise implied. A reminder: we’re still here, and this matters.
Then the world moved forward anyway.
Six Months Later
Current Date: 01/06/990
They met at Inn of the Weary Traveler, a good neutral place—comfortable enough to talk, humble enough not to draw attention. Leda had convinced everyone to come. That alone said a lot: she might have been born into power, but she’d chosen the Blades.
They all looked… changed.
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Mol Potts had grown a bit of beard and upgraded his wardrobe like a man trying to be taken seriously.
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Zel wore a straw hat with flowers—fashionable, careful, and just innocent-looking enough to be useful. She’d been living in the library, learning the city’s rhythms, helping people with books, trying to blend in without disappearing.
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Leda looked like Leda—leathers, layers, stubbornness—only now winter forced her to wrap herself in practicality.
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Corwin Thorne looked mostly the same until you noticed the portfolio, the fuzz on his face, and the way he watched everything like it might lie to him.
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Gideon was the biggest change: heavier shield, more at ease behind it, a defensive calm that made him feel like a wall someone had taught how to breathe.
They ate like they’d done this before—like a family pretending it was normal.
And as they talked, the six months spilled out in pieces.
Leda had tried to make money with herbs, but winter made a liar out of nature. She’d worked in the warehouse district instead—under Lady Serina Kael, a woman who reminded her too much of her mother. Corwin had been doing odd jobs with lockpicks and clever hands; the pay was good, but so was the attention. Zel had been keeping books for struggling businesses and spent time with grumpy-but-competent physicians—Alexi Recov and Barb Olstoy—while Mol worked his alchemy for coin and drifted toward the poorer districts.
Somewhere in those months, Mol crossed paths with a jovial figure who called himself “Mayor” with the kind of irony Valinport allowed: Renfield Willowbee, who made sure business flowed Mol’s way.
Letters came and went too. Corwin wrote home to his father. Leda received letters from Ophelia demanding she come home. Leda eventually answered with a single word:
No.
And Gideon? Gideon almost became a mariner. Almost ran from it all. Instead he worked as a caravan guard for a noble in Heterland—then came back to Valinport anyway.
The Conversation That Matters
When the bowls were emptier and the room felt safer, they finally said the things they’d been avoiding.
Mol wanted more experience. More purpose.
Corwin was in—of course he was.
Zel wanted the rest of the Crown of Iron.
That landed like a stone in a quiet pond.
Gideon asked about the artifact. Leda brought up the The Infernal Empire, the coming war, and rumors of its ruler. The world was larger than Valinport, larger than Strangeways ever was, and the Blades had already been noticed once.
Zel admitted she’d told The Bookworms about a “rare artifact.”
Not everything. Just enough.
They decided to find work the old-fashioned way.
A job board.
The Job Board and the Screaming
They went to Valin College the next day and started pulling leads.
A guard recognized Zel and Corwin.
Zel tore down a job posting. They were also informed they’d lose their housing soon—pressure from above.
Then came the screams.
01/07/990
In the Merchants’ Quarter, a crowd had formed around a dead man.
The guard looked at Corwin and told him to handle it.
Corwin stepped in immediately. Leda tracked footprints in saffron dust. Zel worked the crowd. Gideon searched with soldier’s instincts and found what was missing:
A signet ring.
The dead man was Arvin Dalsen, spice merchant and mediator.
A kid stirred the crowd—he’d seen a man with a scarred cheek and a gold cloak of the Merchants’ Consortium.
Zel flagged Marra Vay, a rival spice merchant.
Corwin questioned a fishmonger and learned more about gold cloaks.
Zel added another fear: elf hunters were active in the city.
Then they heard about bruisers bragging about new work.
The trail led to the Warehouse District and a place that sounded like trouble:
Two men with bright blue bandanas rolled dice out front.
They didn’t win much.
They learned enough.
The bandanas admitted it: they’d been paid to cause a distraction so “the man” could do the deed. They gave a location—an office above a warehouse.
The Warehouse Fight
Inside, two thugs struck the moment Gideon crossed the threshold.
Gideon held. Corwin moved like smoke and critically killed one outright. The other folded—unconscious under Gideon’s shield.
Then a man stumbled out from behind a box.
Not muscle.
Not ready.
Corwin questioned him.
The man named himself Karn Voss.
And pointed upward.
Draco—a foreign merchant who had hired him.
A dead spice merchant.
A missing ring.
And the Blades standing at the edge of something much larger than a job board posting.
Next Session Reminders
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Who is Draco, really—and why target Arvin Dalsen?
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Where is the missing signet ring, and what does it unlock?
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What did Karn Voss see—and what is he not saying?
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Housing pressure: where do the Blades go next in Valinport?
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The Bookworms know about a “rare artifact.” Who else does now?