A one-shot played using Pilgrimage of the Sun Guard. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.
Name: Piers the Agreeable
Background: Cloistered
Code: To pursue knowledge and gain honour through sacrifice.
Traits: Studious and ascetic.
Cherished item: A tome of knowledge.
Might: 2
Guile: 4
Honour: 6
Time: 6
Q: What does he wish for under the stars?
A: To rest.
THE DEPARTURE
Swordsaint Azor's prophecies: "I see forgiveness, repentance, penance. I see tenderness, a look."
CROSSING THE DESERT
A week into my journey I was crossing the desert with an extended family of nomads. As I slept I was awakened by the sound of rustling and a soft voice cursing. A child was trying to steal my tome of knowledge, but the leather straps that bind it closed were confounding her. Having already studied this book extensively, I knew that her thirst for its knowledge was greater than mine, so I forgave her attempted theft and gifted her the book.
[-1 Time]
During the second week, we passed a lush and beautiful oasis. The nomads and I were to part ways here, this being their destination. We arrived late in the evening and the nomads invited me to rest with them, but I knew that if I accepted their offer my pilgrimage would be over. While they prepared their camp, I took a few supplies for my ongoing journey and slipped away. I regret the theft of their supplies, consoling myself that the bountiful oasis would compensate their loss.
[-1 Time, -1 Honour]
UNDER THE SHADOWY PINES
In the third week of my journey I had passed from the sterile desert into the fecund forest, the smell of pine and loam filling the misty air. In the mists I saw a shape like that of a man following alongside me and beckoning for me to follow them. I knew that leaving the path could be dangerous, but I had to learn the source of this vision. I followed the figure to a rotting cabin containing a long-dead pilgrim wearing the tattered robes of my order. Though it delayed my journey I toiled to dig a grave and lay my predecessor to rest.
[-2 Time, -1 Might]
In the fifth week of my pilgrimage, as I was nearing the end of my time in the forest, I heard the sound of wooden wheels clattering on the timeworn path. A midwife was passing in her wagon on her way to visit a distant relative. We spent an evening in pleasant conversation, comparing notes on herb lore. She gave me a poultice of herbs I had no knowledge of, which I used to soothe my sore limbs.
[-1 Time, +1 Might]
THE RIVER VALLEY
In the sixth week of my journey I left the pine forest and entered a valley carved by a mighty river which flowed down from the Frost Cliffs. I followed the river as it took me through fertile farmlands. In one such field I saw a vast loom being worked by mysterious weavers. They wore peasant clothes and burlap hoods which concealed their features. They called out to me to stop and share with them a story of my journey, so I obliged in the hopes of learning more of these people and their craft.
[-1 Time -1 Guile]
First Breach: Anger
Acting in anger, I broke my code. The weavers had shared nothing of their purpose and had instead delayed my journey. I spurned them in frustration and turned to leave them to their mysterious labours, caring not for the truth of their art. They called out to me to wait, claiming that while they couldn't reveal the truth of their art they could at least return what I had lost. They unpicked their work and as they did the bodies of the firmament retraced their steps until four weeks had been unwritten.
[+4 Time, +1 Guile]
In the seventh and yet also only the third week I reached a shrine. Night had fallen by the time I reached the iron gate that barred my entrance to the shrine and its surrounding burial site. As I reached for the gate I saw a pair of eyes burning like coals and heard a rumbling growl. I knew from my studies of the occult that spirits could be appeased by offerings of life, so I shed a small amount of my life's blood onto the bars of the gate as I opened them. As I approached the shrine to make my observances, I sensed the guardian feeding on my offering at the gate.
[-1 Time, -1 Might]
ASCENDING THE FROST CLIFFS
In the eighth/fourth week of my journey I began my ascent of the Frost Cliffs. I saw two paths before me, a gentle but winding path and a steep but direct path. I felt the direct path to be the truer of the two, fearing not the hardship of a more arduous journey. To me the winding path was akin to giving myself over to comforting fantasies, so I spurned that path. However, my chosen path proved to be more the more treacherous for my footsteps called down the very stones of the mountains upon me. It was only by picking up the pace and dodging the falling boulders that I survived.
[-1 Time, -1 Might]
Second Breach: Pride
It was then that I realised my folly; I had allowed my desire to complete my pilgrimage as quickly as possible to cloud my judgement and I broke my code. I survived by relying on my body's instincts and reflexes instead of my intellect. The realisation that my physical limits were not as severe as I had thought filled me with vigour.
[+2 Might]
In the ninth/fifth week of my journey I reached a plateau halfway up the cliffside. Here I found the spring that birthed the great river that had carved out the valley I had passed through earlier. I filled my waterskin from the stream and spent a moment thinking back to my last meal before I left the company of Swordsaint Azor. It was a simple meal of bread and water but it sustained me for the first leg of my journey. As this memory comforted me, I felt myself held in place while time lost its grip on me - it reasserted itself a week earlier.
[-1 Time, +1 Time]
THE ENDLESS STAIRS
In the tenth/fifth week of my journey I found myself at the entrance of a cave that I suspected would lead me to the next plateau. Towards the end of the week, after spending my time feeling my way through the darkness as I slowly ascended, I was confronted by the guardian of the cave. They asked if I was worthy of ascent and I faltered. I feared that my past breaches of my code, acting in anger and pride, would cause the guardian to deny my passage, so I used my cunning to obscure the truth.
[-1 Time, -1 Honour]
Third Breach: Fear
In my fear of forsaking my pilgrimage I allowed my truth to be obscured by metaphor. I downplayed my sins and tried to appear more worthy than I truly was. Perhaps my pilgrimage should have ended here, I would never know.
THE DECLARATION OF DEEDS
In the eleventh/sixth week of my journey I reached the final shrine. Here I was confronted by the final guardian who asked me to recount the story of my pilgrimage.
First I confessed my sins and the lessons they had taught me:
First Breach: Anger
In my anger at my lack of understanding I turned away from a chance to learn from beings who wielded power over the very fabric of creation. I learned that even the humblest of appearances can conceal great knowledge.
Second Breach: Pride
In my ambition to complete my journey I put my life in danger. I allowed my thirst for knowledge to eclipse my honour. If I had died on the path, my sacrifice would have been unworthy. True sacrifice in the pursuit of truth must not be motivated by personal ambition.
Third Breach: Fear
In my fear of being found wanting I withheld the full truth of my journey, presenting instead a sanitised version of events that told only the story I wanted to tell at that moment. True knowledge is untouched by our fears and cannot be made to conform to them.
Then I recounted the deeds that I had wrought:
First Deed: Sharing the Flame of Understanding
Remembering the words of Azor, I forgave the child and shared a rare gift of knowledge with a young mind. By giving a tome to the nomad's daughter I knew that it's wisdom would be kindled in her mind and be passed to a new generation.
Second Deed: A Tapestry of Shadows
Uncertain of my audience's identity and intentions I decided against sharing the truth of my pilgrimage. Instead I spun them a tale of a simple mendicant preacher who was travelling the land spreading the word of the creator. They worked their loom while I spoke, the cloth taking on a darker shade somehow. The weavers shared knowing looks but did not challenge my story.
Third Deed: The Silent Worship
In that shrine at the centre of a graveyard, with the spectral guardian sated by my blood, I spent a full day and night in silent prayer. When I was finished, I calmly stood and retraced my steps. This time the guardian paid me no mind and as I sealed the gates behind me I heard its forlorn howl - it would mourn my passing.
Fourth Deed: And the Rock Cried Out
As I made my way up the Frost Cliffs the very mountain itself sought to rebuke me. As it sent icy boulders to turn me from my path, I trusted in myself to find the true path to safety. My feet carried me from the path of destruction and I was saved.
Fifth Deed: The Silvered Account
I recounted my journey to the guardian, taking great care to present it as an allegory and emphasising how each aspect could be seen as imagery of a greater story. In doing so I presented each of my failings as moral lessons that a listener could learn from.