Something below built its lair around a single hidden conviction — its doctrine. Everything it touched betrays it. Scout the signs, question the captive, name what rules the dark, and send four champions whose natures answer it. Read truly and the war is over before it starts. Read wrongly and you finish it alone, by hand, at the deep door.
Two signs from six. Two questions from a captive who may be lying. Every doctrine leaves marks — and some marks look alike.
Draft four whose natures counter what you believe rules there. The wrong squad fights the wrong war beautifully.
Six lairs in one night, deeper and stranger each time. The hurt cannot march. The night is survived by the bench.
Somewhere below, a fallen power built a lair around a single conviction — its doctrine. You cannot see it. But everything the lair is, the doctrine made. Scout what you can, decide what you believe, and send four champions whose natures answer it. If your read is true, the raid will carry itself. If it is not… you will finish it at the deep door, by hand.
One champion rides ahead. What they bring back is sight, not steel.
Two of six marks the lair left behind. Some marks look alike.
Two questions. Some answers change nothing. One may be a lie.
Name what rules the dark. Name it truly and the plan sharpens.
Draft the natures that answer it — and the ones that do not, feed it.
You draft a fresh warband each night. Every faction must be represented — and the hurt are not available to pick.
A bad raid costs four champions for three lairs, and two bad lairs in a row ends the night. Wounds heal by one a night — they follow you into the next holding.
Every holding you do not march on grows harder to fight and harder to read. Bonds carry over; your champions never get stronger, only harder to fool.
Six lairs, each deeper than the last, in one night. Only eight champions descend with you and only four march on any one lair. A raid that goes badly leaves champions hurt, and the hurt cannot march again for two lairs — so a descent is survived with the bench, not with four favourites. Take champions whose sight you have developed, and take enough of them.
One champion leads the scouting party. They will not fight here — what they bring back is sight. The longer you have campaigned with someone, the more they notice: not greater strength, but a wider aperture. Choose who you want looking, which is rarely the same as who you want swinging.
Champions do not grow stronger here. They grow harder to fool. Every night you march together is remembered, and each nature remembers a different thing — one learns to weigh evidence, one to hear a lie, one to wait. A memory deepens by one for riding ahead, and by one for marching in the squad.
Your outriders can reach two of the six signs before the light fails. Every doctrine leaves different marks — but some marks look alike. Choose what to trust.
Your outriders took a servant of the lair alive. It will answer two questions and then say nothing further. Some questions have the same answer no matter what rules this place — those cost you nothing and teach you nothing. Ask what could change your mind.
Commit to a read. If you name it truly, your battle plan sharpens the whole march. If you name it falsely, your champions fight the wrong war.
Your vanguard is already with you. Choose three more. Each champion carries two natures: a doctrine rewards the natures that answer it and punishes the ones that play into its hands. Kinship (two of a faction) steadies a squad; Concord (all four factions) is harder to field and stronger still. Natures of risk, endurance, leverage and ruin pay off at the deep door, and pay more the longer you have campaigned together.