tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59949075246044648602024-03-14T01:03:03.495-07:00House AdituDrew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-20191846269557092222015-09-02T07:40:00.002-07:002015-09-02T07:40:39.615-07:00Amerasu's Passing<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The words fell from her lips as wine would
from a drunk too long in his cups. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">She could not help herself for it was a
need within her and as she waited for the Death God to finally claim her she
would have her way, for in her own mind she needed to make things right for she
had been silent overly long. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Avarin, her last remaining child held her
hands gently in her own as the Nine Ladies of the Night Sky surrounded the two
figures. These priestesses were all gently singing the prayers of passing as
the smoking incense bowls they held suspended from chains were swung in silent
motion, perfuming the Great Hall of Voices with the sweet aroma that would mask
the outpouring of emotion to come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“I love you my Daughter”, a look that was
held before she cast her eyes to the two empty chairs that were also upon the
dias on which her own chair of ornate wood carving was set, in which she now
was seated for the last time. Avarin could offer no words yet for she was
herself struggling with the moment at hand. Instead she smiled at her mother
and clasped her frail hands in her own more firmly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“I have missed my two children so much
since they were taken from us, yet I have taken only the greatest of pride in
you my eldest and most beautiful daughter. I hope I will be welcomed by Jhokl
and not admonished for that which I have done. More so though is my wish to
once more see my fair Lerel, my long missed Kay’alo and my most loyal and
loving Navarre. Do you think they will greet me with the love I have always
borne them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">This last was a clear question that
demanded an answer beyond a gentle caress of the hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Oh mother, your children will always
welcome you with the warmth of the love you have only ever shown them. I
believe they await you in the Halls of the Dead and together you will all be
once again a family of souls bound by the love and honour you have given us all
and always. The Lord of those Halls will himself take a knee as you pass
through the gates. You will ascend as is your right so to do. I wish we could
have more time – I am not ready to be the last of your bloodline, I am not as
strong as you or my kin … my sister, Navarre … I…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Only then did Avarin let her grief show as
the tears marked her cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Amerasu reached to wipe the tears from her
daughter’s face but her hand was trembling and weak so Avarin guided it longing
to feel the life within her mother still, only it was leaving her aged body and
with it she was leaving Avarin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“You are strong Avarin – never question
that in yourself. I watched you as I exiled your brother, as Lerel was taken
from us and finally when the news was brought to our very gates of Navarre and
those that fell with him so far from our lands. You are all I had ever hoped
for and wanted for this House. I only wish I could have given you more but I am
weary of this life now and will go willingly knowing that you are my daughter
and heir. A mother could not be more proud of her child and the grandchild you
have given us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Avarin now wept openly. Her companions, the
comitati would have come forward to comfort and protect the First Daughter but
they knew they could be of no assistance so they held their positions showing
their discipline and respect of the moment. Heads bowed hidden deep within the
dark blue hoods of their cloaks their own emotions were masked and Hiska, head
of the comitati was thankful of that as she was struggling with her own
emotions and suspected her companions may well also be doing the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In these few passing moments Avarin had
gathered her inner strength and looking up at the Priestesses she moved closer
to her mother to be with her at the very end. Amerasu was among the eldest of
all the people of the Elves. She had witnessed the rise and fall of the great
nine cities of the elven races and had been instrumental in the return to
Aquila, the greatest of those nine monuments in which she now passed her final
breaths in the world of the living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Priestesses moved in, their soft voices
giving comfort. Amerasu’s hand slipped from Avarin’s clutch as the life left
her body. Her head slowly fell to her chest and in a moment of pure peacefulness
she was gone from this world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">A lone crow that had been sat at a window
opening flew close to Avarin’s head, circling round and then taking heavy
winged flight out of the same window opening and into the night sky. With one
single bone-chilling cry, Seeker the crow was joined by a murder of crows that
streamed out from their nests high in the trees that stood guard over the
burial mounds. The crows combined and became one mass of ink black wings in the
clear moonlight of the night sky. Those still awake within the city turned
their eyes to the blackness of the night. Whether they knew what they were
seeing or not, it mattered little for blood ran cold and sorrow overcame all
that beheld this sight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Sound could give no voice to the tumult of
emotions within the chamber.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Great Hall of Voices was defeaned by
the grief of a daughter, her comitati and the Priestesses that now guided their
queen’s spirit to the Halls of the Dead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">* *
*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Avarin stood on the battlements looking
north towards the Great Wood far to the north of Aquila. She wondered how the
news of her mother’s passing would be received by her kind there. There was no
way of telling until the messengers returned so until then she had only her own
thoughts on the matter. Long ago she had grown weary of the politicking of that
place instead preferring to leave it to her younger sister Lerel, sorely
missed, for her own place was here, at her mother’s side in the city of the
elves. The city that had caused a long war fought over some seven years and one
that had cost her the lives of many of her House and her own sister. Such
things could never be forgotten for her mother had carried the grief of all
those lost for all of them ever since. Now she was gone and Avarin was her
heir. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Thus she found herself looking out into the
early morning light over the walls of her city, for hers it truly now was. The
words of Navarre echoed in her head “For you are heir to it all.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">She knew it and the council of the Houses
deep in the Great Wood would also know it come the daybreak. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">* *
*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The riders stopped sharply at the gates of
Strayhold. The night watchman was unsure of who he was dealing with for the
deep hoods hid all features from the dim arc of light cast by his sooted
lantern. Straightening his shoulders in an effort to give himself more courage
and hopefully add a few inches of stature and thus more of an air of authority
to those he now approached, he strode forth uncertain and trembling inside. He
hated these moments but he would not abandon his post. A quick check at his hip
for the rusty short sword that hung awkwardly gave him no greater solace or
courage. He knew he was past his youthful days but he was a proud man and thus
spoke up: ‘Who is it that approaches our gate?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No answer was forthcoming. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Instead the three horseman turned to one
another. All that Jeremiah could make out in the evening gloom was the hoods of
the riders turning to converse with one another, yet he heard no words being
spoken. Just as he was summoning the courage within his twisting gut to
challenge them again one of the horseman spurred his mount forward. In doing so
he pulled back his hood to reveal shoulder length hair, the pointed ears of the
elven race and the dark smudges of tattoos at his temples. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Jeremiah breathed out. ‘Aditu’ he thought
to himself. He hoped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">As the rider let his hood fall he stopped
his mount within a few feet of Jeremiah’s questioning face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Forgive us Night Watchman, we meant no cause
for concern. I should have announced us but we are weary from our hard ride
north. We are of the House Aditu and merely wish to ask for water for our
mounts. We have pushed hard ever since leaving the city and we cannot delay
overly long yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“The city… Aquila?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Aye, we are of the Queen’s household and
are bound for the Great Wood.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Of course. Any Aditu are welcomed here as
you know. Our gate is open to you my lords. Whatever you may need for your
horses is yours. The stableyard is just yonder past the gates. Do you need any
supplies for the road? If so, I can send word to the tavern whilst you tend to
the horses.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“We have trail rations enough but you have
our thanks nonetheless. We will see to the horses and then be gone but may
linger longer on our return journey south, once our business is complete north
of here.” With that the rider smiled and led his two fellow horseman through
the gates that Jeremiah held open for them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">After only a few moments Jeremiah found
himself re-opening the heavy wooden gates at the palisade for the three elves.
As they passed him one turned and nodded their head in kind acknowledgement
before once again lifting the hood and setting the horse to a gallop, north
upon the well worn High Road that would lead them to the southern boundaries of
the Great Wood. The riders said nothing but set their spurs to their mounts and
within moments were gone from Jeremiah’s sight. So he too turned his back to
the night and the open road and set his lantern in its place as he barred the
gates of Strayhold once more to the outside world. His shoulders hunched as he
settled into his heavy cloak at his slow burning brazier that warmed his joints
as he waited for the dawn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">* *
*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Warden stood silent. Something was
wrong and she could sense it. Making her way to the Summer Gates she was
shocked to see a number of elves there, waiting. Alia-tey had been a Warden of
the Great Wood for over three centuries counting and had done good service
during the Wars of The Returning. Yet for some reason, in this time of relative
peace, she felt a fear creeping down her spine the like of which she had not
known for a very long time as she approached the company at her gates.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Why is it so many of you have come to the
Summer Gates?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">One by one the elves stood. It was clear
most were families who had gathered here, waiting for a Warden. A male spoke
clearly “We cannot say in truth Etriel, but I felt a need to be here, as did
these others. Will you let us pass through – we do not wish to go far, merely sit
at the boundary of the wood for a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“I see no reason to refuse your passage.
Let me perform my duties and make sure all is well beyond before you come
through.” With that Alia-tey entered the gates of bowed tree branches that
formed a large natural doorway and then she was gone from view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Only a few heartbeats passed and then Alia
was back. “All is well my kith and kin. Follow me.” The company of elves from
various Houses did just that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And so it was, in the misty haze of first
light with the sun still low in the trees, that a Warden and a crowd of elves
came upon the sight of the three riders. Initially Alia went for her bow and
notched an arrow to its string. Hailing the strangers she demanded to know
their business at her Gate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Declare yourselves and your matters here
for I am Warden of the Summer Gate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The three pulled down the hoods and the
lead rider spoke clearly with the air of the cold morning misting with each
breath and word “I am Hiska of the Comitati of Aquila and First Daughter Avarin
Aditu. You must give us immediate passage into the Great Wood for the Counsel
of Houses will hear our words. Summon them to us at the Meeting Stone for we
cannot and will not delay our mission. Thus is First Daughter’s command of us
and thus is it our command of you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Alia lowered her weapon and made forward.
“You were not expected but are most welcome. Come with me and what you have
asked for will be done.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">With that she led the three riders into the
Great Wood. As they passed the crowd of elves a wave of sorrow came with them,
unspoken but definite and foreboding. The elves mostly fell to their knees or
bowed their heads as the riders passed by. The message was clear enough for it
was the reason they had come to the Summer Gates unwittingly. They did not need
to hear the words the Hounds of Aditu were about to give those within the Great
Wood, for they already had the truth of it from the saddened eyes of the
riders. So they stayed behind and turned their gaze far to the south, as if
they could see the lone figure upon the battlements of Aquila in her mourning
clothes and somehow reach out to her with comforting arms and words. Yet they
were far too many leagues away to do so, but still they tried with heavy hearts
and tear stained cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">* *
*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Hiska was in no mood for courtly manners
and etiquette this day but she knew she must present herself with all the
bearing of her position and House, else do her mistress a poor showing of the
task given her. They had ridden so hard through the night and into the hours of
the dawn that she was exhausted from sitting upon the saddle for so may hours
and knew she must look less than well presented in her armour of chain and
leathers but she cared nothing for that. Her place was beside Avarin with the
full compliment of the comitati, or Hounds as they were commonly known, and she
wanted to be done with this business as quickly as she could to then return to
her charge and the city that was her home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Great Wood was not a place she often
came to in truth since the Returning to Aquila and so she felt a little out of
place here. Others had come here as companions to Lerel, for Avarin had chosen
her mother’s side and the city walls over the boundaries of the ancient
homeland of the Elves of all the Houses. And as such Hiska had stayed with
Avarin – ever and always, as was her oath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">As the members of the counsel gathered many
other inhabitants of the Great Wood also came, as was the instruction given out
by the three riders of Aditu. All were to hear the words. It seemed to take an
eternity for the crowds to gather and settle. Hiska of the Aditu comitati was
impatient to be on her way before mid morning was upon them, if she was to be
back within Aquila for late nightfall. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even that was asking much of herself and her
horse, and she knew it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Finally, a calm descended as Hiska strode
out into the clearing and up to the chairs of the counsel members of each of
the ten Houses of the Immortals. Her two companions followed in her shadow,
silent and somber.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Hiska stopped in front of the seated elders
and stood at the meeting tree. She planted the point of her longsword deep into
the dew soaked grass at her feet and removed her hood to show the Aditu
markings at her eyes – the crimson tattoos that all Aditu wore with pride as a
badge of their House.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turning to all so as many would hear her
voice as was possible she gave the words she had long dreaded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“I am named Hiska of the Aditu comitati. I
am sent here to give you these words to my honour and to my shame, for I would
not have wished to bear this news.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">First Grandmother Amerasu of the House
Aditu now sits with her children, Lerel and Navarre, and the Death God Jhokl in
his Halls. She passed from us two evenings ago. The manner of her passing was
peaceful, with her last surviving daughter Avarin at her side and her spirit
accompanied by the flight of all the crows of Aquila to see her upon the Crow
Road. The light of Ashaan was upon her at the last. May she guide our mother to
her rest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">My mistress, First Daughter Avarin of House
Aditu is now named Head of House and Queen of Aquila as is her birthright.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Queen is dead; long live Queen Avarin,
daughter of the Light Elves and Singer to Crows. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have no other words for the giving.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Silence followed her for none of the
gathered had voice enough to respond to that which they had just learned. Many
wept openly while others cradled themselves in their arms or were held close in
the arms of others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">As Hiska walked out of the clearing she stopped
at her two companions and gave them orders. They nodded in acceptance. She
hated being apart from her comitati and they felt the same but this was
necessary. ‘Ever and always’, as were their oaths. Hiska deftly drew her sword
from the ground, wiped it upon the stained blood cloth at her belt to dry it
from the morning mists and sheathed it in fluid motion. She did not turn back
for knew she would never return here. The world had turned for her and her
kind. She would stay her course. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">One of her companions then spoke to the
assembly before them “All are welcome to attend the internment of Amerasu
within her barrow mound. Three days hence shall we gather at the Garden of the
Dead within Aquila to sing our mourning songs and give her safe passage into
the dark. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This will be recorded and now
forever known as the year of Amerasu’s Sorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">These are the words of Avarin freely given,
for all are children of Amerasu and all are welcomed in this our mourning at
her passing from this life. We will remain and bring any who wish to travel to
Aquila for this back with us – make yourselves known by evenings fall, for we
shall depart on the morrow at dawn’s breaking. I am named Joren of the Comitati
and will be guardian to those that come with me, as will be my companion
Brenna.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Joren and Brenna then took their leave and
headed to the Aditu lodges for rest and food. They were well tended by their
fellow Aditu who had many questions to ask of them. Hiska was already upon her
horse and headed to the Summer Gate and home, south to her city and her new
queen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-10696692129124388852013-03-01T10:03:00.001-08:002013-03-01T10:03:58.367-08:00this 'ere siteAs well as keeping it as a repository for occasional elf stuff, do we also want to use it for Clarion now that we have collectively Drawn A Line Under It And Moved On?Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-37128780625339892052011-12-02T07:00:00.000-08:002011-12-02T07:07:33.776-08:00Cathwaer the Barakyte."And did you know there are only five of them? Amongst all the elves of the Great Wood and all those who have returned to the fair city of Aquila, only five. They number fewer than their High Priests, few than the lords of the Elven Houses. Can you imagine a more exclusive selection? If you can then you won't have imagined one more arduous to join and members more unwilling to be a part of it.<br /><br />The Barakytes; warriors beyond compare, welcomed on the field and shunned off it. Heroes known by every adult, every child in their house, and beyond, but their history known by none. Or rather a specific part of their history is not known, the part that made them into what they are. Into the Barakytes."<br /><br />Klaus stooped to pick up his tankard and surveyed the room over the brim as he drank. This was his third, and final, act of the evening and he had the attention of the entire room now. The Inn of the Crooked Spires in Twinforkes was always a busy place, the main room full of travellers and traders going between the city states and sometimes, like tonight, more exotic guests going between the Great Wood and Aquila. When it was full the room could be a loud mix of a dozen tongues babbling at once around two dozen tables, the ceaseless clatter of meals and drinks being delivered and consumed and the scrapes and thuds of benches and chairs on the old wooden floor. On a cold night like tonight the many torches around the wall and the roaring fire pits added their own crackling din. Against this an inexperienced bard might find himself singing to just the nearest table and the rest of the room oblivious to his efforts.<br /><br />But Klaus was not inexperienced and had played the Crooked Spire many times before. His first song had been loud, dirty, and well known, easily getting the majority of the room to join in. His second more sombre but rooted in the region and popular, all but the one table in the far corner listening to him. His final act was, as is traditional, a spoken piece about history and legend. By the time he'd reached for his tankard even this last, stubborn table had quietened to listen.<br /><br />Of course they're listening, Klaus thought as he put his tankard back down, they love a story about themselves.<br /><br />"Of course I cannot tell you about all of them. I would run out of breath, our host out of drink and all of us out of years before I recount the deeds of five such elven heroes. So I shall tell you of just one of them. The only one to have left the Great Wood so it's said, and travel with his House and to fight against the Church and besiege the City of Spires. This night I shall tell you a tale told to me by an Elven bard many years ago about Cathwaer the Barakyte, of the Royal Elven House of Aditu."<br /><br />He'd guessed right. Eight sets of eyes fixed on him from the corner of the room, utterly focussed, unwavering, disconcerting even. Though the light in that corner was poor, Klaus had thought the material of their hoods a dark blue and though they pulled the hoods far up, he had seen red tattoos on their temples. Aditu warriors. Depending on which war captain led them he might even earn silver tonight or, if they didn't appreciate the tale, loose his life.<br /><br />"Like all Aditu elves, Cathwaer was a warrior born. Fast, deadly and ruthless. A marksman with his great yew bow from an early age and in the shield wall an unrelenting killer. Marked for greatness from a young age, Cathwaer trained under the steady gaze of the greatest elven warlords. However, and no doubt a frustration for the young fighter, beyond the occasional skirmish, the elves of the Great Wood were at peace with little chance for a warrior to earn glory.<br /><br />Do not forget this was many hundreds of years ago though. Before some of the cities even stood, much of the land still rolling plains populated by tribes of Mongols and other savages. Whilst these days the Great Wood is bordered by civilisation, then there was little beyond seas of grass and occasional ruins. Into this empty world rode the Mongol horsemen, terrible and merciless, none more so than Hettan Shur, Khan of the Burnt Faces clan. This murderous fiend had killed his own father to command the clan, before slaughtering his brothers and sisters and anyone else who threatened his rule. Those he spared but who had not supported him as fully as he would have liked, he branded on the face, costing them at least one of their eyes. His more ardent supporters, seeing this please their Khan, then branded their own faces, though more careful about sparing their eyes no doubt. A different brand was devised for each role with in the clan; warriors, wives, craftsmen, healers. When the clan began swallowing up it's neighbours, each new member was marked accordingly, only the very young spared until their role was divined. Soon the only face not so scarred was Hettan Shur himself. Shockingly handsome so it's said, his flawless beauty made all the more so when surrounded by his burnt and maimed tribe.<br /><br />Now you think you know handsome, after all you have sat and beheld me, Klaus of Franconia, for long enough, but Hettan Shur was much more. Women would swoon at the sight of him, emissaries become tongue tied at his smile. Why even his horrifically scarred warriors would look up from ploughing their yaks when he passed. However upon seeing that he walked on two legs not four and had no shaggy coat or tail, they would as quickly return to their bestial rutting. But no one can deny they looked!"<br /><br />As expected this got a laugh from the crowd. Mongol jokes always played well in the Forkes since the attack a few years ago. Just hidden beneath the laughter was a bitter edge, resentful of the horse-lords' arrogance and power. That same base anger kept the Mongols away from the taverns though and made Klaus' jokes safe to tell. No laughter from the elves however, not really their high-brow humour Klaus thought, but a few had smiles so they weren't too offended by the mocking of their allies.<br /><br />Best tone it down a bit though Klaus, he considered, not really in the mood for an axe being thrown at the stage.<br /><br />"Eventually the Burnt Faces came to edge of the Great Wood. They numbered in their thousands, covering the land with ponies, wagons and others walking, surrounded by vast herds of yak and raising a tattered banner of dust visible from scores of miles away. At the edge of the wood the Khan drew his warriors up along the tree line. There they paused, the front rank but a step from entering the realm of the elves. Hettan Shur was no fool though and he knew the consequences to entering elven lands. He was not blind either and though he could see none of the warriors, in the gloom of the forest he could make out the many banners of the elven warlords, planted in the forest floor in plain view of the human warriors. He could see the red and blue of Aditu, the white and black of Acoma, the gold and red of Athuati. And amongst these colours could be made out the sigils and heraldry of the war captains. Such is the way of elves in forests that the Khan could not be sure whether the banners were there alone or whether hundreds of warriors were concealed in the woods about them. His tribe had conquered every foe he had set them against, they would no doubt outnumber the elves by a vast number, but even so he did not order them forward. To take on elves is one thing but in woods? In the Great Wood in particular? Against their priests and shamans and against nature itself? Hettan Shur may have been cruel but he needed his army alive if they were to conquer the world for him."<br /><br />This was getting a few nods from around the room. Find a collection of caravan guards and mercenaries anywhere in the Steppe and you'll come across at least a couple of Church army veterans. Towards the middle of the room in particular were a pack of a half-dozen Grey Sword mercenaries and judging from the odd tattoo and remnant of kit, at least half their number were ex-inquisition. They were sitting quietly now, some gazing into the past, no doubt thinking about their own experiences of fighting the elves. Klaus had prepared lines extolling the virtue of elven warriors but decided to skip over them whilst the veterans were still reminiscing and before any further flattery might rile them. The rest of the room was silent now, listening to the tale and probably considering the eight elves sat with them in the room.<br /><br />"Eventually, when no movement was seen under the trees, he pulled his warriors back and encamped a half mile from the edge of the wood. The camp was vast, filled with all the people of his tribe, all scarred to their tasks in life. Though they rapidly stripped the surrounding land of any food and resources, being Mongols all they really needed to survive were their herds of yak. They settled in to wait as though besieging a fortress. Obviously Hettan knew he could not really besiege the Great Wood however he hoped to draw the elves out to do battle and there destroy them with his numerous horse warriors.<br /><br />Altalas Tay'lon of the house of Athuati commanded the elven forces and had no intention of allowing the foul Khan his victory. He could not fight the Mongols in the woods for they were too afraid to enter them and he did not want to fight them on the plains as the Mongol cavalry would have too much advantage. But Altalas was an elven warlord and had spent centuries waging wars. His plan was deceptively simple, a slaughter, not of men though, but of the yak. That first night, whilst Hettan's forces slept and watched over their vast camp, prepared for an attack that wouldn't come, the entire elven host, some 800 warriors, crept out, killed the guards of the herds and began a bloody nights work.<br /><br />How do you kill herds though my friends? Though you don't look, or smell, like men who spend too much time with cattle but I'm quite sure you know what happens when you kill an animal on the edge of the herd. Dumb they may be, that's the yak not the Mongols, but the rest of the animals are not going to stand around and let themselves be slaughtered. But that night they did just that. The elven warriors swiftly and methodically cut their way into the herd killing every beast. How did they manage it? No animal will quietly let itself be cut open but these did. It takes a lot of work to kill a grown yak, to hack through the fur and fat to the heart or throat, but the elven warriors seemed to barely cut the creatures before they fell dead to the ground. How? You see Altalas had made compacts with the elven gods. How they made the herds so calm and quite the elven bard would not tell me. Perhaps this is a secret they still retain? Perhaps it is a skill they have lost? Who can tell. But how did they kill the yak so quickly? That the bard did tell me, in fact he told me in whispers as though scared of the power he revealed.<br /><br />We mortals do not know much of the elven gods. We have heard of Ashan and Arapey. We have heard of Grun. Those unfortunate enough to have faced the elves in battle will recognise the names of Baradan and Jkohl. But one god who we do not know of, who we do not want to know of, who, in truth, the elves themselves do not want to know of, is Glandu Gen, the Mistress of Disease."<br /><br />It seemed as though a couple of the veterans actually had heard of the elven goddess of plague and pestilence to judge from their reflexive spitting at her name. Normally such displays were all the spark needed to start a fight; no one likes seeing their gods insulted. However the elves in the corner table had reacted in much the same way, as Klaus knew they would, and didn't take offence.<br /><br />"At the slightest cut or graze from the elves blades the yak would fall dead as the poisons coating the weapons raced through the great beasts. The animals were dead before they realised they had been cut and rotting before they slumped to the ground. As the warrior would move onto the next yak, the now poisoned meat would already be sloughing off the bones of the dead. This was Glandu Gen's gift to the elves though, as with all her gifts, there would be a price to pay. What Altalas had promised the priestesses was not known at the time and would only become apparent later.<br /><br />But that night there was no talk of debt, no talk at all in fact, as the warriors slid amongst the herds and slaughtered the Mongols' way of life. The left some alive, but only those which were so close to the fires of the tribe's camp that their sudden collapse and stillness would be noticed by the humans. This thin screen of yak hid the thousands, tens of thousands, of dead animals behind them. Glandu Gen's poison was as subtle as it was effective; no stench of rot reached the camp though the carcasses almost completely surrounded it. As the sky began to lighten the elves crept back out from the fields of the dead animals and returned the woods, their presence never noticed, and the Mongols woke to the ruin of their clan. With the warming sun and the collapsing of the Glandu Gen's spell, the horrific stench of death filled the air bringing with it all the flies and carrion feeders from the surrounding lands. From the woods the elves could hear the cries of despair and lamentation rising from the human camp. The few yak left alive were barely enough to feed the Mongols for a day or two and then people would begin to starve. Fights broke out between the warriors for possession of the remaining herd with the newer, weaker, members of the Burnt Faces being attacked for whatever stocks of food they had. The clan was coming apart and the Khan could do nothing to alleviate the problem. Only the fear which the clan held for his original followers, the Vlas-tevny or Self-scarred warriors, held them together and stopped the whole lot from dispersing into the steppe. There were no cities to rob in those days, no farmers to put to the sword and crops steal. No innocents to intimidate and threaten, no children of the Forkes to starve so that Mongol warriors didn't. The dirty bastards were beaten but too stupid to realise it."<br /><br />The room had an a heavy undercurrent of satisfied anger to it now. Though many here were visitors to Twin Forkes, many were residents of the city and many others from Whistling Forkes where the Mongols had also forced the people to surrender their food or be killed. There was a risk telling tales of the elves to men so recently fighting them however by picking a common enemy, however historic for the elves, Klaus could give the whole room something to enjoy, Regaling the elves with their own heroics would always go down well and telling the tales of the Mongols being given a taste of their own medicine would provide a small sense of vengeance to people in no place to take their own.<br /><br />"But where was the hero of tonight's tale in all this? Where was Cathwaer? He had been amongst those slaughtering yak and was now, along with the other warriors of Aditu, waiting for the Mongol Khan to order his troops into the woods such action being his only option other than a defeated retreat. Traps had been prepared, spells woven around trees and across glades. Pits had been dug and earthen mounds raised to impede the Mongol cavalry and channel them into killing grounds. Lines of battle, fall back positions, rally points, targets for advances; all had been discussed and agreed. But none of them were used. Altalas's scheme had been even more effective than planned and the Khan could not convince his people to attack as he must expend all his effort just to keep them from running away.<br /><br />The elves waited. The Mongols argued and fought amongst themselves. Those who tried to leave were killed by the Vlas-tevny, those who stayed began to starve. The elves waited. And waited. They waited for days. They waited and watched as the young and old of the Mongols staggered to the edges of their camp and were cut down by the Vlas-tevny for trying to leave and, as more time passed, cut down but any member of the foul tribe as being a waste of precious food.<br /><br />You might think this was the perfect way for the elves to fight the battle. Their enemies killing each other and dying off in droves without a single elven life lost. To this idle bard it sounds like the best way to win. But what force should rear it's ugly head? What power has ever been the bane of generals of every race in every age? Politics. House Acoma was not happy with how things had turned out. Some of you will no doubt of heard of House Acoma. An entire tribe of politicians and diplomats; can you imagine anything worse? If they cannot get an advantage from a situation then the next best thing is to make sure no one else does either. It turns out politics is the same no matter the species"<br /><br />A few laughs around the room. No one liked politicians and those of House Acoma were known to be the most slippery of the breed. Some of the merchants in the inn would have even met them during their travels but everyone knew of them from their frequent visits to the cities near the Great Wood where they tried to spread the influence of their House. Even though Klaus was mocking other elves he knew he was relatively safe from the warriors sat in the corner. Aditu did not have the best of relationships with Acoma, no doubt harking back to some instance in antiquity, and Aditu warriors especially would have little regards for the effete and cowardly ways of their cousins.<br /><br />"You see Acoma did not enjoy the sight of Altalas, and House Athuati, gaining the prestige of defeating the Mongols whilst House Acoma contributed nothing beyond slaughtering some yak and therefore gained no credit. The praise of the warriors of House Aditu for the Athuati warlord only angered the Acoma further. They could not seize any credit for the victory but maybe they could find a chance in the Mongols' suffering to cast themselves in a better light. Preaching peace and mercy they claimed that leaving the Mongols to starve to death and slaughter themselves was barbaric and a tactic worth of their enemies, not the noble actions of elves. The warriors of House Aditu laughed at this sentiment and derided the Acoma warriors present for being led by cowards and fools. Athuati are not Aditu though, and Altalas was swayed by the words of the Acoma. He agreed with the Acoma that the quicker the Mongols moved on the better and the quickest way was to now offer the survivor's enough food to leave rather than to leave them any longer until desperation forced them to attack and elven lives might be lost. Altalas decided he would visit the Mongol camp himself, under a flag of truce, and offer the Khan terms. Though his warriors objected and called on their lord to ignore the Acoma suggestion or at the very least advance in strength, Altalas was firm and his troops obeyed his command to remain in the woods. Athuati are not like the elves we know. Savage Aditu warriors, deadly Velent'm archers, effete Acoma diplomats. Athuati are not warriors as such but soldiers and they follow the commands given. The Aditu warriors, Cathwaer amongst them, demanded the right to advance and to provide protection to Altalas but these too were refused. Though not soldiers the Aditu respected the Athuati warlord too much to refuse him. At the least they requested that a bodyguard of the best Aditu warriors would go with Altalas and protect him from the Mongols, known to be a traitorous people then as now. This honour however went to another House. Though their diplomats and leaders turned down or made excuses to avoid the parlay, the warriors of Acoma are a different breed and a dozen of their number would form an escort for Altalas.<br /><br />The elven war host formed up just within the tree line. On the left flank was the legion of Athuati, resolute and standing firm, a red and gold wall. In the centre the Aditu warbands, savage, eager, like hounds held on a leash. On the right the Acoma warriors, less disciplined than the Athuati, less aggressive than the Aditu, a silent host in the black and white colours of their house. Behind and to the flanks the armoured archers of the lesser houses. They all watched as Altalas, surrounded by his twelve bodyguards, made his was out from the trees and across the bare ground to the Mongol camp. Absolute silence. A few dazed, starving Mongols watched the elves approach, hundreds of elven warriors watched them walk away. Silence. The elves in the woods watched the small column reach the outskirts of the camp, enter it and be lost from view. Silence."<br /><br />Klaus paused. Silence reigned in the tavern room too. All his listeners knew a battle would ensue, indeed they would be disappointed now if it didn't.<br /><br />"And then keening, wailing, screaming. The Mongol camp seemed to convulse and collapse in on itself as Mongols streamed to the centre of the camp, kicking over tents as they went. But the savages weren't collapsing on themselves, only converging on the elves in their centre. On Altalas and his twelve warriors. Immediately the elven line surged forward from the trees desperate to close the distance to the camp and rescue the warlord. These warriors had fought together for years, scores of years, centuries; though they ran their line did not break. But even their endless years of training could not stop their line beginning to fragment and spread out. Then from the left of the Mongol camp cavalry suddenly burst out and began forming up to charge at the elves. It seemed the Khan had preferred the weaker members of his people to die before his warriors horses were touched. Though the surviving beasts were somewhat skinny and underfed, the elves had no cavalry of their own and were now moving across open ground. Once formed up the horses charged, quickly eating the ground up between the armies. Ranks of lancers readied their weapons to crash home whilst the terrible Mongol horse archers prepared their bows to rain down arrows upon their enemies while circling out of reach.<br /><br />Hundreds and hundreds of Mongol horsemen were bearing down on the still-running elven army. Then two parts of that running mass suddenly stopped. On the left flank the Athuati, seemingly running in a straggling column, stopped, each warrior pivoted left and they formed up. Quicker than can be imagined by human warriors the solid line of red and gold reappeared and now faced the oncoming Mongol horse warriors, protecting the entire left flank. Spears, longer than those usually carried by the elves, thrust out from between the shields and the Mongols, so confident of their crushing charge just a minute before, rode onto their deaths. At the last minute the rear ranks of elves flung short throwing javelins taking down hundreds of horses and men, bringing others down in the confusion and barricade of dying horses. Those that rode through or jumped over their downed comrades were spitted on the spear points, their stinking hides and furs not able to stop the points from punching clean through warriors and taking others behind them. It is said that some of the long spears had two or even three Mongol bodies skewered on them by the end. Those few that reached the lines crashed against braced shields, held in place with spikes on the bottom driven into the ground. Short stabbing blades flashed out cutting down first the horses, then the riders. The Mongol lancers were stopped dead and the Athuati line began it's advance, shields pulled up from the ground and short swords stabbing out. Whenever a still-mounted Mongol rode at the line the shields were slammed back down and the long spears run out. The red and gold line butchered the Mongol warriors and the gold was soon turned a matching red.<br /><br />The second elven forces to draw up had been the armoured archers. Far beyond the range of even the Mongols' powerful re-curve bows, the elves drew back their great longbows and began to send flight after flight of arrows amongst the Mongol riders. Not yet able to retaliate the Mongols had to ride through the rain of shafts to try and bring their attackers into range. A futile effort. Half the Mongol archers were dead before they brought the elves in range and of the survivors, many were riding away from the battle, desperate to save themselves. The elven archers now swarmed round the flanks of the Athuati line and, abandoning ordered volleys, began picking off Mongol lancers and archers alike. Such was the number, accuracy and speed of the elves, many Mongols fell from their horses pierced by four or five arrows.<br /><br />Whilst the mounted Mongols had formed, charged and died on the left flack, the Aditu and Acoma warriors had not halted their own advance. As they reached the edges of the camp, a horde of stinking Mongols surged forward and threw themselves at the elves. No ordered attack this, just the starving mass trying to overcome the attackers by weight of numbers. Into this ravening horde the Aditu warbands plunged. Like a spear thrust into the side of one of the Mongols' yak. They were quickly surrounded but continued forwards cutting ever deeper into the Mongol camp. Near the tip of the spearhead Cathwaer fought with his brothers, forcing their way towards the centre of the camp to avenge the attack on Altalas. Against such numbers no advance can continue however. Eventually the Aditu attack slowed and stopped, the weight of the Mongol numbers to great to press into further and now threatening to overwhelm the shield circle the Aditu had formed. At that moment, when it seemed the Aditu line might break and Mongols swarm amongst the elven warriors, the Acoma, who had swung wide on the right flank before attacking the camp, struck the Mongols in the rear. Between two such forces there could be no doubt of the Mongols' fate. Battle became slaughter, fighting became a harvest and arms became heavy with endless killing.<br /><br />At the moment of the Acoma attack, when the Mongols reeled back, Cathwaer had charged forwards for he had seen the bright red clock of Altalas lying in the dirt not twenty paces from him. Mongol warriors tried to stop him and died. He cut down two, five, a dozen. Nothing could stop him. Mongol warriors still looking well fed and better armoured than their fellows flung themselves in his path. Four of the Vlas-tevny, the warrior elite attacked him. They died just as easily under Cathwaer's blade. Two particular Mongols, who fought together in a deadly concert of blades, managed to make him slow but no more than that. They died with the rest of the foul warriors. Though he did not know it, Cathwaer had just killed Hettan Shur's two sons and extinguished his line. And what of the Khan himself? Cathwaer fully expect to reach him next having cut his way through the bodyguards but it was not to be. As Hettan's younger son fell to the earth, and the last of the Mongols fled, Cathwaer saw the Khan of the Burnt Faces tribe already dead on the ground. Thrust through the Mongols chest was a short Athuati blade, the hilt decorated with the heraldry of Altalas. The elven warlord himself lay nearby, the bodies of the twelve Acoma warriors surrounding him. Around them lay dozens of Mongol corpses. Cathwaer had cut down only four Vlas-tevny; the only four left. The rest, over a hundred, had died at the hands of the Altalas' bodyguard. It is a strange thing my friends. The Aditu are a war-like house and they are all savage warriors. The Athuati a martial house and the most disciplined of soldiers. The Acoma are a house of diplomats and priests but their warriors are all heroes. Few of that house choose to become warriors but those that do are beyond compare. Though outnumbered, surrounded and doomed, the Acoma warriors had fought an entire clan and slaughtered the elite Vlas-tevny warriors. As Cathwaer stood in stunned silence he saw Altalas' hand move slightly and his eyes flutter open. Though brutally cut down, the Athuati warlord still lived.<br /><br />Cathwaer rushed to his side calling for healers though he suspected Altalas was beyond their aid. The Athuati warlord must have agreed for he muttered only one thing when Cathwaer was close enough to hear. The name of a god: Glandu Gen. Only the healing of a god could save the elf now and Cathwaer prepared to pick Altalas up and bring him to one of the Bone Witches, the priestesses of Glandu Gen, of whom several had accompanied the army. Though not of Altalas' house, if Cathwaer could not find an Athuati warrior before finding a Bone Witch then he would gladly serve in the Dead Guard in payment for the healing. Altalas had proved his value beyond the ties of houses. The warlord was not done though and gasped out a few words more before Cathwaer could pick him up. "Her price must be paid," the warlord struggled out. "Her gifts are not free". Altalas would not say more and, as Cathwaer watched, the life slipped from the Athuati warlord and his spirit passed on. As Cathwaer rose from kneeling he became aware of another elf stood on the other side of Altalas' body. One of the Bone Witches, a young, innocent looking girl, dark straight hair hiding most of her face, white shift muddied a the hem but otherwise impossibly clean for a battlefield, hands covered in blood, some black and old, some red and fresh. "The Mistress demanded payment from this one for her gift" the priestess said, looking down at the dead warlord. "The Mistress still demands payment Cathwaer of Aditu" she continued. "And I will pay it in his stead then" Cathwaer replied. The priestess reached out a dripping hand for Cathwaer to take and led him from the body of Altalas. Without seeming to cast any spell the priestess and Cathwaer stepped from plains to dream-road to the holy place of Glandy Gen. To those who had watched the exchange, the two seemed to fade away to nothing in the space of just a few heartbeats.<br /><br />The battle had cost the elves dozens of warriors but the Mongols hundreds. Their bodies were left to rot next to the bones of their precious yak, the vast field of dead a warning to the other savages of the steppes. The bodies Altalas, his twelve guards and all the other fallen elves were carried back to the Great Wood leaving nothing but dead Mongols outside the tree line. Cathwaer's bothers did not wait from him to return for service to Glandu Gen is never short. He would return when he had paid off Altalas' debt to the goddess. Cathwaer himself became a guard of Glandu Gen's holy place, then bodyguard to the priestess from the battlefield and, it is rumoured, her lover too. Hundreds of years passed before he was seen again by the warriors of Aditu when he returned to them, his service done. What acts he committed during those years, what training he received, what battles he fought; all of that is unknown. He was no longer just another warrior though. He had been touched by a goddess, by the sister of death, seen rituals and prayers forbidden to all but Glandu Gen's followers. He was a Barakyte now, one who has completed his service to the Mistress of Disease, still Aditu but also apart. More deadly than ever before in battle, more separate than ever before from his brothers. Less a single elven warrior than a force of nature, still carrying the blessing of a god.<br /><br />And he is out there my friends, maybe in Aquila, maybe the Great Wood, maybe travelling between the two…A peerless warrior, a terrible enemy, a Mongol killing hero!"<br /><br />The room was filled with the racket of dozens of mugs and fists being rattle on the tables. The crowd approved of the tale, they approved of a hero who slaughter Mongols. Klaus began his round of the room and the coppers seemed to pour into the tankard he passed around. The evening was a success and Klaus was feeling very pleased with himself as he approached the final table in the room. The Aditu warriors watched him as he approached and placed the tankard at the end of the table and thanked them for listening. Custom was for patrons to drop a reward into the cup before passing it on and around the table. Just as Klaus began to wonder if he needed to explain this to the Sithi, one in the centre of the group put an upturned hand out over the middle of the table. Lying in his palm was an Aquila minted silver coin. Purer and larger than the human minted versions, they were worth a lot more.<br /><br />Maybe they don't carry coppers thought Klaus, this must be the reward from the whole group.<br /><br />Before he could move however all but one of the other warriors dropped another silver coin into the first's hand. Seven bits of silver gleamed in the torchlight as the elves who had contributed turned to regard the eighth who had not. Leaning forward the final elf dropped his coin on top of the others and now a full gold piece rested on top of the seven silver. The first elf tipped all the coins into a small pouch he tossed to a stunned Klaus. Eight tankards raised to him, eight elven heads nodded in respect. Klaus staggered away…<br /><br />********<br /><br />Silence at the table.<br />"That was a good tale" said one.<br />"Well told" said another.<br />"Well learnt" said a third.<br />"I wonder who told it to him" wondered the first.<br />Silence again. The seven look at the one, the gold giver.<br />"So…" said the first.<br />"So what?" the eighth asked.<br />"You know what. Is it true?"<br />Considered silence from the one. The other seven waited.<br />"Mostly I guess. But I never fucked the Bone Hag."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-5703248802171871002011-11-03T10:21:00.000-07:002011-11-03T10:40:29.562-07:00Of Children & Crows (Part 3: Final)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOFdJ1OhfBRyz873x5k3sLNQ96OVP88lMlMIuI5bstBMy93crFuvlR59P8mwH6XRwqLcbeNQTEE69SWfLeyaDjQ2br4WY0ajeDo0wXRgV4tIBXHCxMuxPLP9tkqer1umqGNv2oM8B4wUjd/s1600/images.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOFdJ1OhfBRyz873x5k3sLNQ96OVP88lMlMIuI5bstBMy93crFuvlR59P8mwH6XRwqLcbeNQTEE69SWfLeyaDjQ2br4WY0ajeDo0wXRgV4tIBXHCxMuxPLP9tkqer1umqGNv2oM8B4wUjd/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670825799522061058" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> 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class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;">From a distance Amerasu and her Comitati look upon the scene that is unfolding in the Gardens of the Dead. Hiska pulls back the hood of her cloak and looks to Amerasu.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">“My daughter and Tirandel know what they are doing so why do I fear so much.” A statement, as much as a question. “Trust in the CrowSingers Etriel, for they have always served your House well and I cannot believe they would do such a thing lightly if there were no other way.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">“Trust?” Amerasu turns fiercely upon her bodyguard and household companion “It was trust which brought us to this moment all those years ago when men failed us on the field of battle in spite of their long given words and blood bonded treaties. Our sons paid the price of trust that day and evermore I have carried its lament. Trust is a whoring bed fellow. That is all trust is.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span>The tears upon Amerasu’s delicate face mark her grief. Hiska can only comfort her with a silent embrace for she has no words to offer her queen.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span>* * *</p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span>The wings of the crow’s block out all light and the three figures fall into the darkness brought upon them by the birds that are revered as the harbingers of death by the Elven Houses. There is no noise within the living tomb of shadowed wings other than the flapping of wings and the snapping of beaks as they puncture skin and take their blood toll. The child is screaming as Rauxlor and Seeker take from him that which they demand – his life blood.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Avarin and Tirandel shelter him from the beaks of the other crows that are calmly seeking to join in the macabre feast. Blood streams from their faces and limbs as the frenzied attack starts to abate. Once black dresses are now dyed a dark crimson. They do not fall or falter from protecting the child. Never once do they step back or fail to shelter him from all except the two birds that have demanded royal blood. This night both elven women have learnt what it truly is to be a Singer to the Crows.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">From within the darkness that surrounds them Rauxlor and Seeker stand back and face the Elves and their own kind alike. A voice is heard by all within this company: </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p>"</o:p></span>This night we have supped upon the direct bloodline of Third Son Navarre. With his passing and that of his fellow Aditu warriors we have been protecting the Aditu from the wandering spirits lost upon the Crow Road. Four years passing is time enough. Our shadow can now be lifted. Without their bodies they cannot be laid to rest in our Garden of the Dead, for they fell far from here in lands unknown and hidden from us. Jhokl demands his payment. This we have taken from the son this night. With his blood upon our beaks and wings we have an offering for Jhokl to put our beloved lords safely upon the road that will lead them to his Halls. My kin, fly with me this last time for I will not return. </p><p class="MsoNormal">My place is at the side of he who has served me so well and whom I must now give my last honour and breath to. My master calls me home. Blood for blood.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Rauxlor then ascends into the night followed by a streaming murder of crows. Only Seeker remains behind staring at her CrowSinger, Avarin, who returns her gaze coldly. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">“You have done well my children. Rauxlor will pass from the mortal veil and ascend, as is his fate so to do. Long has he carried the dead. Now the time of mourning is past for you. Bury items of all those we do honour to in the barrow beyond these steps. They deserve your remembrances, as they will have ours. Mighty lords of the House Aditu fallen in battle. They can now be at peace.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With that Seeker follows her kin and is lost to sight in the paling light of the night sky.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tirandel and Avarin comfort the child who is bleeding from his hands. They wrap cloth about the wounds and notice that despite his cries of pain he appears calm and not at all fearful. Tirandel looks to Avarin: “The kei-vishaa helped.” Avarin merely looks back at her companion with eyes that narrow and blood streaked cheeks. Her dress is soaked in her own blood from many wounds, as is Tirandel’s.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">She looks to the tomb that Seeker spoke of. “We will do as commanded and rejoice in the peace that has been granted them so long since their passing from us.”</p></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 129px; height: 109px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigwCYFS8I_gWglTukiZ0QFXg9AQMMUzyGE5gqzZxV5HJM8yLsBk9z-MYInH3aq9sy21JL2XdrngRmI9miOVx6XWAGACvdECmLfYotFGyr9PbncKxcCV0ZDTMlPcy4p2JKBPnJ_61tIzKBO/s400/Dark+Hall.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670822509971360114" /></div><div><br /></div><div>The three figures then make their way from the Garden of the Dead in silence. Thoughts need no sound. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">* * *</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The figures in the Rose Gardens watch as the crows take to the sky.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left:0cm;mso-add-space:auto">As the comitati step away from Amerasu she turns her head and speaks softly from the depths of her hooded cloak of crimson and royal blue.</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left:0cm;mso-add-space:auto"><span lang="EN-US">“Soon my daughter will be your Queen.”</span></p></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3Q56oE-nrdfWsa05YYpIj0DhmhJf_Iu9RHVtNPHgnCEl4NSEp15U5Dyn8-1Ww19b_KEio0bgMMj9E6kVtCdsMMmfz1GWVwLOCRffDikyEvSnLpMUhW22Nhvl7Y0FQ5D1IVImDFjkvTPB/s320/Dark_Angel_by_TomAraya1981.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670822649950061250" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-3033716482234517822011-08-05T17:21:00.000-07:002011-08-05T17:56:37.766-07:00Arguments in the North“Years, Sereg. Years” he says, pacing in front of the seated captain, “and they call it duty. It is exile.”<br />“Exile?” the captain questions.<br />“Or banishment. Or... I don’t know. I don’t have the words for it. I am not Finwe or Lassel. If I were then I would not be here would I? Instead I am. Dismissed. Forgotten.”<br />“Is this truly how you feel? That you have been sent away? Forbidden from ev...”<br />“I am not saying that saying that Sereg. Grandmother would never forbid us from the city. From her. <em>Grandmother</em> is not so cruel.”<br />“Who then? Who has banished us? Exiled us?”<br />“You know who I...”<br />“Who is so cruel? Few can give orders to me; a War Captain of House Aditu. Few can force me to summon my Gaesatae, my shield wall, to march North, to bring fire and iron, death and war where they dictate. Is it one of those few you accuse?”<br />“No! I would not ever...”<br />“Is it Amren Jelass? The War Marshal? Baradan’s chosen? Or is it First Daughter? The last child? Another? Who do you accuse nan Retan?”<br />“Let me speak Sereg! You would dig a hole for me to fall into and then...”<br />“You dig your own grave Retan. Your words are...”<br />“So let me finish! My words are sense! They are concern! They are the very soul of the Gaesatae!”<br />“ The Gaesatae? They thi...”<br />“That we are...”<br />“Wait. The Gaesatae they...”<br />“...abandoned! Left to rot!”<br />"Hold Retan! Remember you place!”<br />“I... I am sorry nan Sereg. Forgive me. My life to serve.” He kneels, his head bowed.<br />“And you are forgiven nan Retan.” Briefly, but long enough, his hand rests on the Retan’s head. “Tell me bizema, what do the Gaesatae feel?”<br />“That we are not wanted.”<br />“Not wanted?”<br />“In the city. The court. In the... thing! That Perohnin Aditu becomes.”<br />“That Aditu becomes? What do you mean my friend? Your words would cut the heart out of me.”<br />“No Sereg! A thousand deaths before I would harm you.” He seizes the Sereg’s hand, trailing from when it rested upon his head, and presses his forehead to it. “Your heart is the Gaesatae’s heart. Your soul; it’s soul.”<br />“But it seems my Gaesatae worry? That my brave hunters feel... Well, what do they feel nan Retan?” His hand moves from his Retan’s forehead to the shoulder, his upper arm. He brings the Retan to his feet.<br /><br />“How long have we been in the North Sereg?”<br />“We came with Amren. Four warbands; an army to wipe these lands clean. With Lenae, Cabal...”<br />“And where are those war captains now Sereg? On soft beds.”<br />“We marched for war! Else I would never have mustered my Gaesatae. Never have roused them but for war.”<br />“How long Sereg? In the cold North? By ourselves!”<br />“Years” he mutters, maybe just to himself. “Years.”<br />“We are dispatched from the city Sereg. Ordered to a frontier far from our borders. A warband deserted, forgotten.”<br />“We are needed here Retan. A duty is ours to perform.”<br />“Yes nan Sereg. There is a duty here. A task that only a warband could achieve. But must it be us? For six years we have been here. Six years!”<br />“A warband must stand here Retan. Aditu must remain.”<br />“I know nan Sereg. But are we here because we are the right warband to stand here? Or because we are right warband to be absent from the city?”<br />“True. True nan Retan. We would not easily... <em>fit</em> into the new court.”<br />“It is the court I worry about nan Sereg! Who is the court? Why is it that the warbands who do not, as you say, <em>fit</em> in the court are those sent away from it? Ithir, Cabal, Y’dar. Those who would distain robes and finery. Those who would instead bear metals and glory.”<br /><br />He remains silent, lost in thought. The Retan waits patiently, the need to speak now sated and past.<br />“We are the fortunate ones Retan.”<br />“Nan Sereg?”<br />“Consider that we may return to Aquila in weeks should we so choose. What of Y’dar?”<br />“Aye, the Sereg is far from home.”<br />“And those that travel with him. Months before they could reach home. Tal, Llofan, Shao. Even Renkin.”<br />“Ha! I think the city will be barred to him for...”<br />“None the less. Even the Great Wood is months travel away for poor Renkin.”<br />“It is as you say Sereg.”<br />“Even those left with us, Cadfan and his hunters; they may return to Aquila but not as Gaesatae. No triumphant return for Y’dar or his warband yet. No boar standard flying above blood drenched warriors as they return to the city.”<br />“Aye nan Sereg. When I escorted Y’dar to fair Aquila we were not received as a War Captain returning. Just another Aditu returning to the city.”<br />“You judge harshly Elohath. Were the Bronze Guard given more notice they would have welcomed Y’dar in a fitting manner. Anlus would have insisted on that.”<br />“But I worry Sereg. How will the court welcome us when we return? When you return. Ithir Achal, Sereg Amal a Perohnin Aditu. How will the court functionaries receive a son of Baradan, after years spent in the War God’s realm?”<br />“Ah, now I understand your concern. And I am not worried as you are.”<br />“No? Are my worries so childish?”<br />“Not at all nan Retan, but they are no longer relevant. First Daughter has roused herself from the mourning. The functionaries have been blown aside, as leaves in the face of a hurricane. The Miller’s Daughter directs the House again.”<br />“Why have you not told the Gaesatae this nan Sereg?”<br />“It is not their concern, my orders are to be followed no matter where they originate.”<br />“And they would be Sereg, even if you ordered us to walk unarmed and unarmoured into the halls of death. But the needless worry could have been averted.”<br />“Then spread this news Retan. Let the hunters know that one who knows them, one who understands them, once again directs the might of Aditu.”<br />“It will be as you say Sereg!”<br /><br />“But Retan...”<br />“Yes Sereg?”<br />“We did not discuss this. I did not entertain your doubts. I did not soothe your fears.”<br />“Of course nan Sereg. Else you would not be called The Cold.”Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-59994911570789104892011-08-01T13:59:00.000-07:002011-08-01T14:06:10.698-07:00Of Children & Crows (Part 2)<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; ">One of the robed figures standing behind Amerasu who is seated in her ornate chair moves forward: nothingis said as the First Grandmother, without looking up, reaches out her left hand. The robed figure named Hiska, takes her mistress’ hand gently in her own as they watch the three figures make their way from the garden. As the distance from them increases Hiska notes Amerasu’s grip is also increased. She looks down at her charge but knows not what to say for comfort. Instead of words she gently brings her left hand to clasp that already held by her right. Nothing more is required.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;">Without a word of command from Hiska the other comitati that surround Amerasu move forward instinctively. The ‘hounds’ know all is not well but they can do nothing other than remain at their mistress’ side. All that is heard is the soft mumbling of prayers from the depths of hoods as Ashan takes her place in the clear night sky surrounded by the light of stars.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">* * *<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;">Avarin is holding her child’s hand firmly and looks across to Tirandel. “All will be well”, she says quietly. Tirandel reaches down and takes the free hand of Avarin’s son as the three walk from the rose gardens.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;">To the north-west corner of the city, close to the summit of the Sto</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;">ne of Farewell, are found a ring of trees that are the home of the crows. Almost four score crows nests adorn the treeline and look down upon the burial mounds of the dead that have been laid to rest here within the walls of Aquila. These barrows have a weight of history that go back to the naming of Aquila te Lunashaed and as such make a natural homing for the winged harbingers of the dead.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;">As the three stand at the burial mounds they look up to the tree line, which is coloured a pale silver in the rising moonlight. A large shadow rises from within the branches of the trees and takes to the night sky. As one, the crow shadow rises up from the tree line and descends upon the city and the three that stand before it in the shadowed garden of the dead.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:medium;">Avarin turns to her son kneeling down in front of him: “Stay here with Tirandel my son – I will return shortly for you.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">She then steps forward approaching the stone steps that lead up to the entrance of the barrows. As she does so she lets her cloak fall from her shoulders. Beneath she is wearing a black ruffled mourning dress with a patterned laced bodice that falls gracefully around her and marks her as a widow yet also consort to the Crows. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; ">Tirandel also lets fall her Aditu cloak revealing a more simplistic black dress of similar design without the bodice patterning, for that is reserved for the daughters of First Family as a mark of their position and placing within the House: roses entwined with stars symbolising the House and it’s goddess’ children that look down upon all Aditu.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As Avarin gracefully walks up the steps into the shadows of </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; ">the barrows and trees that surround the burial grounds of the elves two crows alight upon the stone bannisters. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; ">The First Daughter of the House Aditu is also a CrowSinger and tonight is taking her place and exercising her position among these creatures of the light of the living and the shadows of those that have passed beyond the realm of life. She turns to the crow upon her right for she is named Seeker and Avarin answers to her before all others.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Mn4kBweJnBjxbyPJQeKdhMPM11m2BN00dpf74gnYOZeRCyJ6jxoV8ktWcH60hPhDdTaZJBseonAYVnytWlRZTMLVBxRqXOclhM1jQ14_hrd-XRayzUNQDG-iUJMhdtGtvqiNBuTx0q9t/s320/Avarin+and+Crows.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635995546053291250" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From Tirandel’s vantage point she observes that the crow that has claimed Avarin as her own Singer is speaking with her and Avarin is listening intently. The folds of Avarin’s dress fall to the stone steps as she gives her full attention to the words of the crow. She then turns to the second crow, sat upon the stone railings to her left, as Seeker also looks that way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There is no mistaking the aura of this creature for he is Rauxlor – the eldest of the Crows and the one who took Navarre as his own and vice versa. Both were masters and also servants to one another for never before had such a pairing of Crow and Elf been given freely and without inhibition. Now though, only one of that partnership remains and the loss of the other is clearly showing on the one that has survived. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In comparison to Seeker, Rauxlor, despite his magnificence and clear elder status, is weary and on close inspection carries a weight of overwhelming sadness that defies anything felt by mere mortals. Jingizu, or sadness of spirit, is well known to the immortals and long lived races of the world. The Elves are masters of this melancholy which only they can also turn into a stubborn fight for survival against insurmountable emotional odds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After a few brief moments upon the steps Avarin returns to her child and her fellow CrowSinger. Taking her son’s hand she leads him up the steps into the shadows of the Garden of the Dead of Aquila and it’s ages of legend. Tirandel follows. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The crows that reside within Aquila are all gathered within. They are sat upon the burial mounds and around the steps that lead to this shadowy place located within the city of beauty crafted by the three elder tribes of the Elves. Avarin leads her child to the place where both Seeker and Rauxlor await them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tirandel stands to the child’s right with her mother in front and to the left. A somber look is passed from mother to fellow crowsinger, which instigates Tirandel reaching into her belt pouch and closing her fingers around that which she has taken out. The child looks to his mother for reassurance. In return she takes a knee and gently runs her hand over her son’s face in a loving caress before then looking for Tirandel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Avarin remains kneeling embracing her son saying “This will make it easier my love – trust us both for this will be over quickly and I and Tirandel are with you, I promise you that”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Her fellow crowsinger then opens her hand and blows the kei-vishaaa taken from her pouch into the child’s face. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It is then that the crows descend upon the child engulfing him and his two guardians in their brooding shadow of night black wings.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times;font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times;font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times;font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times;font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-10997743202370347082011-07-30T13:40:00.000-07:002011-07-30T13:40:32.909-07:00Renewal 2011Right, so, laugh.<br />
First things first:<br />
1) who's going?<br />
2) when are they going?<br />
3) What has been happening IC since last event?<br />
d) use her as a human shield and fight your way out<br />
5) Where, IC, are those who are not going going to be?<br />
6) Why do whales have to be so damn big?<br />
7) Shall we meet up for a beer beforehand (particularly for those not going)?<br />
8) All of the above.Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-25917175701440159842011-06-12T10:15:00.000-07:002011-06-12T10:16:47.302-07:00<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><u><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times;mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">Of Children & Crows (Part 1)<o:p></o:p></span></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">As Arapey begins to dip behind the Towers of Old making way for her twin, Ashan – the Lady of The Night Sky, a company of elves make their way from within the stone chambers of the city into the Rose Gardens.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">In the failing light a lone figure sits upon a chair. To one side is another chair and to the other side two more, all three of which are empty.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">The figure looks at each chair in turn but gives no voice to thoughts. With a wave of arm attendants, robed and hooded, come to stand beside her.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">At the head of the company of approaching elves is a cloaked and cowled figure walking hand in hand with a young child. She walks with purpose and a gracefulness not often seen. It marks her apart from those around her for she is Avarin, First Daughter of the House Aditu and Queen-in-Waiting to her people.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">The figure sat in the chair stands to greet her daughter and moves forward to embrace her and her grandchild in one motion. Amerasu is smaller in height than Avarin. Since the loss of her two children, Lerel and Navarre, Amerasu has struggled with ill health and caused all her House great concern. She is loved by all with a respect and genuine fondness that defies words of explanation. All fear that she may give in to her grief fully and join her beloved children in the Halls of Jhokl. Yet every time she is with Avarin and the child she visibly lifts and remembrances turn to joyous moments rather than those of pain and loss.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">Turning to Avarin she asks pleadingly: “Is this really the only way for us to banish the shadows that plague us so?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">“Mother” says Avarin, “I know it seems wrong but…” </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">Avarin turns to a figure at her side, who then steps forward and from the deep blue of her cloak hood speaks: </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">“It is the only way Etriel, for the Crows are lost and with them the spirits of those we love are also lost upon the Crow Road unable to reach Jhokl – long have we desired they find the peace denied their bodies. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">Ydar’s warband have done their part; now we know we must do ours. Give us your blessing for what we must do this night under the gaze of Ashan and the Crows. If we do not then Rauxlor may well perish under his burden and Aquila will be cast into everlasting shadow. Our grieving is killing the dream.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">Upon hearing this Amerasu kneels in front of the child and places her hands upon each cheek. She smiles and kisses each cheek in turn and then the forehead. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">Speaking softly she says: “I feel the night is on your side. You have nothing to fear. You are blessed by Ashan and your bloodline my dear child. Look to your mother now.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">She then rises up and returns to her chair. Avarin makes to move towards her but a single look from Amerasu stops her in her tracks. In the strengthening moonlight tears glisten upon the cheeks of both women.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">The figure to Avarin’s side moves forward and gestures to the left. “All will be well First Grandmother.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;">“You have my blessing Tirandel – deliver us from shadows.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:19px;">With that Avarin, the child and Tirandel leave the rose garden and the company of the elves gathered there. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Times; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";font-size:14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-226507167680105872011-04-27T18:11:00.000-07:002011-04-27T18:34:34.712-07:00Renkin's TalePlease allow me to introduce myself. I am the mighty alchemist Renkin of House Aditu, and this is the tale of <em>really</em> happened at Limmer Hill.<br /><br />Our story starts sometime before Y'dar's warband ever got close to Limmer Hill. I was in the Northlands, searching for the herb known as Bugle, when I came across a fort. It was nearing nightfall, and my pack animals, two sudhod'ya I called 'left' and 'right', were growing tired. Whipping them the final distance I demanded entry and accommodation within. Cowed by my elven magnificence the guards gave me entrance, and I was shown to some meagre rooms: unfortunately the best they had.<br /><br />I met the lord of Limmer Hill fort at the meal that night, a sudhod'ya named Rutal, and his wife and daughter, who were both rather lovely. As I had been my usual charming self, I was of course expecting a nocturnal visit to my bedchamber from one (or both) of the two ladies. When the knock came, soon after the rise of Ashan's moon, imagine my surprise when the supplicant at my door turned out to be Rutal! This put me in somewhat of a delicate situation. He was my host, and as a guest I was obliged to be obliging. However, I found him to be crude and uncultured, and knew from my travels that he was cruel and capricious. In order to be polite, I gently prevaricated. Growing desperate and pitiful, he offered me his most valuable possessions. Wishing to be rid of him I said that I would think on his offer, and he left. Shortly after, his wife came secretly unto me.<br /><br />The next day Rutal laid siege to me again, again promising me all his riches. To dissuade him I told him that such a love was forbidden in my culture. Despondent he left. That afternoon as I bathed, his maiden daughter came unto me. When she left she was maiden no longer. At dinner that evening word came that an elven warband approached and would probably attack on the morrow. After viewing their encampment from the ramparts I privately resolved to provide my kinsfolk with what help I could. I went to Rutal, and to distract him from any pre-emptive attack he might make on the warband, I said that I had relented, and invited him to my bedchamber that night.<br /><br />That night he did indeed come, and I betrayed his trust and lust with a bitter kiss. Leaving him, I went to the courtyard well with certain of my herbs, so that when Y'dar and his Gaesatae attacked they faced a foe without a leader, and with barely any men well enough to fight.<br /><br />The bard who composed the Ballad of Limmer Hill ignored my part, but I forgive him. His head was turned by the blud and thunder of the warband, and he knew not what he did. I only tell this story now to set the record straight, and so that you might bask in the turbulence of my magnificence.<br /><br />How do you know my tale is true? Well, there are two young sobaks in the Northlands who have my eyes, but slightly more accessible is this trophy I took from Rutal's body:<br /><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/AlanE.West/HouseAditu?locked=true#5600435585517421650"><br /><img alt="Rutal's Hand" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/AlanE.West/HouseAditu?locked=true#5600435585517421650" /><br /></a>Alan Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00568103950503907786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-14747679635051067972011-03-16T14:51:00.000-07:002011-03-16T15:15:45.420-07:002011Now then, booking my 2011 stuff now. Not-wigan and renewal for me, even though they're both at the wrong end of the country. Not booking the thursday for the first one but will be doing for renewal.<br />
What vet picks are people taking?Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-3217811176843191952010-08-23T13:43:00.000-07:002010-08-23T14:38:48.376-07:00Of Crows<div>Crows, as a bird, are the Guardians of the Dead and so their chosen elves are somewhat different to the norm. An elf selected by a crow is named CrowSinger and they mimick the duties of the crows in life - they become the guardians of dead souls, guiding the departed to the peace of the Halls of Jhkol - the Lord of the Dead in the elven religion.</div><div><br /></div><div>Due to the power of the crows they only select three elves from each House to act for them. Should a House lose a CrowSinger (due to violent death or jingizu / sorrow) then that House becomes blighted. An example of this being the House Velent'm and what befell them in the end - loss of their Lord and a seperation from the mainstay of the elven peoples, despite their continued close ties with the House Aditu.</div><div><br /></div><div>CrowSingers have been called 'shamans' in other cultures. </div><div>They do not rival the Priestesses in religious rank but are often regarded with respect and perhaps a little trepidation due to the nature of their spirit guides. </div><div><br /></div><div>The crows live together in a large colony making their nests high in the tree canopy.</div><div><br /></div><div>In Aquila they have taken the branches of the dead trees that surround the barrows of the dead within eyesight of the Rose Gardens. </div><div>No one knows who is laid to rest within the barrows since the Fall of Aquila for few would dare enter such places. However, it is fitting for the crows to want to be close to such a place.</div><div><br /></div><div>The head of the crows is a bird named Rauxlor. He is the head of the crow nation and has previously taken CrowSingers from multiple Houses at the same time - they are then seen to be the 'primary singers' within their House.</div><div><br /></div><div>He is ancient even in the terms of the long lived. Some would say he knew the Mad King in his days as a youth but that may be exaggeration. More likely Rauxlor came to being at the end of the Wars of the Mad King, for he would have found much work in seeing dead souls to their resting place that would tire even a supernatural being and the suspicion is he fled the Garden on one of the ships and then came into his own at the founding of the nine cities.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rauxlor now reigns over a large murder of crows and has chosen to now reside with his kin who watch over Aditu in Aquila. </div><div>Although only three crows name a CrowSinger there are a great many crows within the murder, for they are a collective. A community of birds just as in nature.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rauxlor took Navarre, </div><div>Seeker has taken Avarin after the death of Amiel-Has at the end of the War of the Returning and Shadow has taken Tirandel (the longest serving singer to the crows currently).</div><div><br /></div><div>Rauxlor is now grooming his replacement Singer, suspected to be the son of Avarin and Navarre to ensure a continuing strong tie to the House Aditu.</div><div><br /></div><div>Seeker is young in comparison to her own lord Rauxlor and known to be among the more vicious of the crow colony. The balance of Rauxlor and Shadow keep her in check.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rauxlor is a wise elder being that considers before acting but will not stray from a harsh course if it is required.</div><div><br /></div><div>Little is known of Shadow for Tirandel is a more solitary figure (outside of her fellow CrowSingers) and this is reflected in her spirit guide also. </div><div><br /></div><div>It has been known for the three named crows to appear to others who are not CrowSingers. This is extremely rare.</div><div>When this happens they take on a larger form than their normal size in the eyes of those who behold them. They are also very vocal speaking directly to their audience, lacking patience and animated, to the point of seeming agitated. </div><div><br /></div><div>A CrowSinger would see them in normal size when conversing and much calmer - something they do frequently with their chosen ones - for they are more attuned to the birds than non CrowSingers.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since the Returning the crows watching over House Aditu have taken up residence in Aquila as described.</div><div>Since the fall of the five lords in 1107 they have constantly cast a shadow over the city by taking to the skies on a daily basis circling above the Rose Gardens and the three ancient towers. </div><div>Any that visit the crow's nests find a disturbing sense fall upon them that makes them uncomfortable and their visit to the barrows short. </div><div>At the time of the year 1110 the crow shadow has started to diminish slightly with the birds favouring their nests to the day's skies and adopting a more usual pattern of their existence.</div><div><br /></div><div>The 'Crow Road' is the term used for the passing of an elf's spirit immediately following their death to the Halls of the Dead. </div><div>It is a spiritual journey but also a physical one for the crows who actually are believed to escort the souls of the dead. </div><div>Their CrowSingers aid this transition from the mortal plane of being by conducting rites and rituals. If it is deemed that a soul has not completed the Crow Road journey then they are considered to have been lost to darkness and will never find peace. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-39171890883354507662010-08-22T12:18:00.000-07:002010-08-22T12:18:56.461-07:00Ydar at courtFolks, just been reading the Ydar in Aquila stuff, i'm not going to post it as a blog entry because it's too damn long for that so I've sent it to Alan for hosting and then i'll stick it in the background section.<br />
Having read it, the following questions are raised:<br />
What is the crow shadow?<br />
Who is Lassal?<br />
Who is Rauxlor?<br />
Who is Seeker?<br />
What is a Skywatcher?<br />
Who is Tirendel?<br />
Where are Jakob’s royalties?<br />
“key was long since lost to our peoples but only when the Voice came to her door” So when was the key taken? Before the fall? During the time of Jao? Or previous to that? What is the timeline here?<br />
And finally, have you cunts never heard of speech marks? That’s before I get started on the use of “myself" instead of "I"...Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-72815735727060863422010-08-19T12:05:00.000-07:002010-08-19T12:11:39.538-07:00Elf song when ranging far from home<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i>I love the stars so fondly;</i></span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i>I will never be fearful of the night.</i></span></div></div>Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-89097695367465329902010-08-15T12:06:00.000-07:002010-08-15T12:06:14.267-07:00The nature of the Sithi - part 2<i>Following a prompt on the first discussion i have managed to find the file. So what follows is a write up of a discussion, this probably needs some picking to pieces before we formalise any of it.<br />
</i><br />
<b>Elven race:</b><br />
All long lived people lived in the Garden. The races were separated and distinguished by their study of and relationship to the shadows they had been created by the Gods to study. Over the tens of thousands of years the different groups took on different characteristics (both physical and behavioural) based upon this. Light elves studied the shadows in the blazing light of day and cold light of night, deep elves went to the dark places (and then began making their own dark places) to study shadows in their own environment and controlling the light that was present. Drow meanwhile sought (and gained) a closer relationship with the shadows, mimicking them and living with/alongside them. However these peoples did not think of themselves as races as such as their first allegiance, overwhelming all others, was to their holds. Now some holds were predominately of one branch of long-lived whilst others were a more balanced mix. All however had a mix. We know that during the wars of unbeing several large distinct groups left and founded the various cities. All of these groups were made up of “Sithi-lebn-schel-n’kenamal” (or some such long winded untranslatable gibberish) which in the tongue of the Garden mean “Those people who lived in the time of complete dying” – ie those who were living during the 40,000 year long war of unbeing. By the time of Aquila’s hey-day they were just called Sithi “The people”. We do not know what happened to the other cities (apart from K’s story of one of them and my reference to a smaller very northern one overrun at the start of the usurper war) and the racial make up of them. Those groups who left the Garden before the war of unbeing (for a variety of reasons) were called different things and we believe these are the other long lived peoples out there in the world. Since they left so very very very long ago – their memories/histories have become irrevocably distorted from our own (though maybe almost still true through the prism of their own experiences).<br />
<br />
Once the final refugees reached the known world the holds of old were intentionally pulled apart. The idea of the holds was now a repulsive idea. That one group of people would utterly annihilate another was blamed upon the allegiances to holds above all else (after all, 2 million members of Hold Thennict were killed in one magical assault so there was evidence to back up this hatred – on a related note, Drew, do you remember me saying there was a 2-card reading in the deck called “Elegy of the Thennict”? This, obviously, is where it comes from). The Lords of the Holds had possessed too much power, able to command armies of millions and wield horrific powers. Most had died during the war – especially since we are talking about the loosing side here – and those that survived quickly surrendered their powers at the demand of the mob. This transition though was a peaceful one – everyone wanted an end to slaughter. This is turn led to the concept and realisation of the issue of Jingizu. Finally able to stop fighting for the first time in millennia, the Sithi were able to let loose their grief and mourn. Such was the power of this release that it became a thing in it’s own right and all Sithi were pulled to the depths of suicidal despair. Realising the risk of the race effectively willing itself to die, the gods strengthened their chosen and sent them out to preach their message. They explained how these Sithi had chosen to forsake the evils of the Garden and would thus be allowed to live without the Jingizu (and presumably gloat about the fact that the ones who followed the King were still suffering) and would only suffer it if another Sithi died at their hands. Then they would not suffer the guilt of killing one but the same grief that those who had killed thousands felt. <br />
All people define themselves by some form of grouping, without the regime of holds to define them the Sithi began to split along their racial lines instead. They were all still Sithi but each branch now called themselves after their racial line too. The Children of the Dawn, Deep, Shadows etc. However all seemed well in the city but tensions were beginning to build as the prize was that much smaller (eg control of a single city rather than the world) and therefore could only provide power/wealth/luxury to a limited number. As Ineluki was definitely a light elf it was very much the Zideya who were perceived to rule the city. This was not resented very much by the deep elves for they remained underground but the drow began to feel they were slighted and trapped between the two other Sithi races with no-where to call their own. They began to call themselves the Drow to distinguish themselves from the rest of the Sithi and offers of senior positions in the city hierarchy were rejected to perpetuate the sense of victim-hood. The true level of their disconnect and separation from the Sithi was only realised by a terrible act that should have been more terrible still. Fin Gorrel was a Sithi judge who presided over a court that found a drow guity of arson and sentenced him to be banished. The drow refused and challenged Fin Gorrel to trial by arms to prove his innocence. The law, unchanged for thousands of years, allowed for this but only until first blood; the drow however, clearly had more deadly intent. Fin Gorrel accepted the challenge, though his reasons for doing so remain obscure, and in the ensuing fight, forced to defend himself to his full abilities in the face of the Drow’s murderous assault, his sword found the Drows heart and Fin Gorrel fell to his knees as the guilt came crashing in. This was not the jingizu of the gods warning though – merely guilt for a life wasted. The Drow had removed themselves from the Sithi to such an extent that the gods and the power of the jingizu no longer regarded them as kin. Did the Drow know this before the challenge? Was the now dead Drow there to prove this point or merely die by blade or grief to prove the Drow claim of being victims? We do not know but the Lay of Fin Gorrel has become a powerful ritual. A stylised fight before actual combat between Sithi that follows the movements and killing strike of Fin Gorrel. By the power of the ritual, or by the power suggested by the ritual, Sithi are able to enter a state where the killing of another Sithi is seen as justified and thus the victor suffers no grief.<br />
<br />
This ultimately meant that by the time of the fall the two races, Sithi and Drow, could kill each other with impunity. Though they may have lamented the fact that long-lived fought long-lived whilst mortals ripped down their city, they did not hesitate to turn their blades upon each other.Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-91032949938158315472010-08-11T14:33:00.001-07:002010-08-11T14:33:20.980-07:00Background MarerialFolks, shedloads more background material published in the righthand frame. If we've got questions (and i know i do) then start a post for each document, that way we can keep the discussion on track.Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-26887058293484143392010-08-10T13:32:00.000-07:002010-08-10T13:36:28.082-07:00Q&A - Undead & WTF are the norns?What is our postion on undead? Prevsiiuly were have played such stances as viewing them all as total abominations and yet at other times we (as in sithi characters past and present) have interacted with them, and even last Renewal, interceded on their behalf.<br /><br />Basically what is the Aditu or wider Sithi stance on undead and why?<br /><br />This leads me to the Norns? What are they? Who are they? Are they undead...see above....?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-49272359706294284652010-08-08T12:19:00.000-07:002010-08-08T12:19:10.157-07:00Q&A part 5 - TimelineI'll ask Alan to post this as link somewhere as well for better reference but for now, here is the revised timeline agreed:<br />
<br />
Year Event<br />
1110 Present<br />
Dec 1107 Battle of Limmer Hill - End of the War in the North<br />
Aug 1107 Lords fall<br />
Oct 1105 Start of the War in the North<br />
Apr 1103 Returning<br />
~1096 - ~1103 War of Returning<br />
5400BC - 1100 Time of Jao<br />
5401BC Founding of Second Houses<br />
5857BC Founding of Houses<br />
5902BC Fall of Aquila/Flight to Great Wood<br />
5903BC Eastern War-Hoste withdrawn from provinces to re-inforce Aquila<br />
5904BC Loss of Southern War-Hoste<br />
5905BC Deep Elves secretly begin escape tunnels from Aquila<br />
5905BC Loss of Northern War-Hoste<br />
5907BC - 5902BC The Long Rout<br />
5907BC Seige and capture of northern city of A'Matieles<br />
5912BC Start of 4th Usurper War<br />
5944BC - 5932BC 3rd Usurper War<br />
5950BC Central War-Hoste (Legion of Aquila) march from city and disappear<br />
5971BC - 5956BC 2nd Usurper War<br />
5990BC "Last Ride" leaves Aquila to hunt down the Beast at the Gate. Disappeared<br />
6028BC - 6010BC 1st Usurper War<br />
6034BC First direct contact with Usurper<br />
6160BC - 6034BC War of Northern Tribes/War of the Hands (wars with Sudhodya Tribes orchestrated by unknown power - Usurper)<br />
13600BC - 6160BC Time of Aquila - Independence from the Garden<br />
14500BC Last fleet from the Garden arrives at Aquila<br />
20000BC Founding of Aquila (later to become Ninth & Greatest city of the "Garden in Exile" Kingdom of Prince Maldon)Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-24009497652334435302010-08-08T12:02:00.000-07:002010-08-08T12:02:06.844-07:00Q&A part 4 - Miscellany<b>Miscellany</b><br />
What the fuck is drashad?<br />
I can't tell you because we have no idea what it is.<br />
<br />
Who the fuck are the council of trees?<br />
Some dude heard a rumour about a suspicison that someone had mentioned they might have heard another bloke talking about, but he's not sure: a cadre of elven mages looking to create their own power-structure (Navarre, that dirty sobak, had links to this group, ergo, he's not to be trusted. fortunately he's now dead). This is very much a hidden existence and not in common awareness. It is not known if the council still exists or has any influence. The council of trees are believed to be behind the ousting of house Velent'm.<br />
<br />
What is skilling/how does it work?<br />
It is a message out, a powerful transmission that requires much power, either through the use of a powerful device, of through extensive prayer. Certain individuals will have a natural proclivity towards this, certain powerful individuals can do this without additional devices. Essentially distance, number of receivers, ability of receiver, and the quality of transmission will vary. Two powerful practitioners may be able to converse, a more basic transmission would be, for example, the transmission of images and basic feelings from one person to another. This would still take extensive prayer and be exhausting to the transmitter and may have adverse affects on the receiver according to the emotions contained in the message. Crowsingers tend to have a natural ability for skilling. Spirit guides are able to skill to other spirit guides.<br />
<br />
Who are the 9 priestesses?<br />
The lead priestesses of Ashan in Aditu. They are the only full priestesses of Ashan, they are served by accolytes who are either simply temple servants or priestesses in training. See previous blog entry from Talnas.<br />
<br />
Where does the warband fit in terms fit in terms of heirarchy?<br />
The war-band are a mid to low-ranking group within the martial arm of the house however the nature of the house is that it is bound by its strength in arms. As such members of any war-band are accorded respect by the wider population, especially non-combatants.<br />
<br />
And finally, just to clarify, Amerasu is Garden-born and ship-borne.Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-28033064579788681112010-08-08T11:55:00.001-07:002010-08-08T11:55:53.433-07:00Q&A part 3 - The North<b>The North</b><br />
Who is Blan-Kiaos?<br />
Blan Kiaos "Blank" is a young warrior in Y'Dar's warband who is a favoured by arapey, at present he is simply an awesome fighter but has the potential to be a war-marshall even ascendant.<br />
<br />
Who the fuck are the Krell? <br />
Krell are a human tribe in the north aligned with Voice. These are not good people.<br />
<br />
Do we have allies in the north?<br />
???Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-83687794432335907662010-08-08T11:50:00.001-07:002010-08-08T11:56:38.324-07:00Q&A part 2 - The nature of Sithi<b>The nature of the Sithi</b><br />
Do we all agree with the creation story?<br />
All agreed with John's introduction, as far as reaching Aquila.<br />
Matt's chronicles follow on from the exodus. <br />
<br />
Were the new houses / cities founded before or after the exodus?<br />
The cities were founded after the arrival; Aquila was the final city "founded" though it is accepted that conurbations may have existed prior to the elven formal creation.<br />
<br />
When did the second houses appear?<br />
Second houses were founded shortly after Jao was started. Holds existed in the garden. some shit went down. your face was a racial division, that is to say, we split by deep, light, drow. That went pear-shaped in Aquila. So in Jao there was an attempt to return to a hold-like structure, the secondary houses were created as deliberate method of distributing power (shortly after the founding of Jao). Houses did exist in Aquila but only in the sub-context of noble lines - probably with a link to the strength of the blood link to the garden-born royalty.<br />
House L'Retel were almost a separate house by the time Aquila was populated. This is likely to have stemmed from an attempted neutrality in the garden. <br />
<br />
<br />
As Sithi are we a declining breed or are we at our peak?<br />
We are not currently in a stage of decline, whilst we, as a species, may not be at the height of our greatness, we as house, are on a resurgence. For the members of the current warband (and most of the current active members of the house) we are stronger than we have been in most memories. We are Re-ant... <br />
<br />
<br />
What the fuck are spirit guides?<br />
Animal characters that have the power of speech to their chosen elf. The elf does not command the guide, vice versa. A spirit guide will rarely cause a conflict in purpose due to their ties to the elf. In general the spirit guide will just be a background influence however in extreme cases they might take direct action to influence a characters behaviour. A guide is normally a reflection of the personality of the elf. The only defined guardians are stag (for wardens) and Crow (guide). Amongst the Jao-houses, wolf is one of the most common, particularly amongst hunters (especially so within Aditu an Velent'm). Bears and Beavers figure strongly in Athuati. Birds are common guides amongst the more cerebral (rather than martial) elves.<br />
L'Retel do not have spirit guides.Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-34168943752331861402010-08-08T11:49:00.000-07:002010-08-08T11:49:57.416-07:00Q&A part 1 - AquilaFirst of a few posts documenting the background stuff discussed in London. Add any extra questions or corrections into the comments.<br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Aquila</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">How do you spell it?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">single L (plagiarised from LadyHawke. This sickens me. Utterly.)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">How old is Aquilla?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">21010 years since founding (see the revised timeline)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">When did it fall?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">7000 years ago<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">What does it look like?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Walled City (single wall), Citadel with stone of farewell protruding over the walls. White Stone walls, always cleaned. There are three major towers, not including the tower of shadows, this was, in someway hidden (within the cathedral?) but is now open to normal sight. Towers are Moon, Sky and Sun. Rivers runs past it, with water gates. Originally there were broad travel ways with large marble buildings etc. At present though, the entire city is in a process of renovation, the only thing that has definitely been kept are the remains of the cathedral (as a reminder for our hubris) and a Human church that we have kept as a memorial to our allies.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Currently it is a mix of timber/stone framed buildings but there is extensive sithi use of canvas lodges within the city. Areas around the temples are being renovated according to the aspects of the gods. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">How big is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">2.5 miles by 1.5 miles, approximately elliptical. Significant vertical variation and extensive layers of city underground (as developed by drou and deep).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">How many people live there?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">2500 Aditu in Aquila (approx 500 Aditu still in Jao). Frequent visits from other elvesas and when they choose. at certain holy period this may double with members of other houses.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">What's the deal with Ulunat?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Ulunat and other areas have sworn fealty to Aquila and provide a tribute to the city in the form of foodstuffs. the reconstruction is largely being paid for by the sale of the vaulables and spoils of war found in Aquila. The city is net importer of produce and aggregates. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Ulunat is spread around on the mainland outside. Populated by humans who have not left the area.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">How is it viewed by the other houses?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Other houses have changed their tune from seeing it as the precipice of a genocidal war to becoming almost the equal of Jao and being a symbol elven greatness again. it is now recgonised as a great achievement by Aditu, and the right thing to have done. It is now a site of pilgrimage for elves from all houses (except L'retel).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Who are the bronze guard?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">They are the Gaetasae who are asigned to the defence of aquila.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Drew Stephensonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05962382491499129918noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-41319327515347343652010-08-07T10:22:00.000-07:002010-08-07T10:46:08.900-07:00Renewal InteractionI would like to put forward 2 ideas for the Renewal 1110 event. <div>We all pay a substantial fee to go in order to mix with a variety of class of people / role players and these suggestions would give us a good base to build our own confidence from to then take ourselves out into the wider picture ...<div><br /></div><div>1. We build bridges within our own Faction by visiting the Thornruin as a complete warband to present ourselves in friendship and in respect of the previous Aditu-Thornruin alliances and ties of friendship. </div><div>We can use this moment of role-play between us to properly explain our new group set-up (in-character, as we are not gay role players who quote rulebook ver batem) and just reaffirm our ties as elven race with new leaderships. </div><div><br /></div><div>2. The Franconians always make invites and have their open hospitality often 'abused' (dare I say) so suggest we invite them formally into our camp ground by written missive giving a day's notice. This will enable them to interact within the Al-Gaia camp and specifically the elven elements.</div><div>I think we could host them under our own awning and then move it into a more interactive role-play situation by including the Lazuli and Thornruin.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Discuss, in no more than 4000 characters ;o)</div>Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-71142692590368759402010-08-07T10:05:00.000-07:002010-08-07T10:22:15.206-07:00The Nine Ladies of the Night SkyLuthiel - Ulariae Kandila Noni Aditu (First Priestess of Aditu)<div><br /></div><div>Erurana - Tenciae Kandila Noni Aditu (Second)</div><div><br /></div><div>Matissa - Telliae Kandila Noni Aditu (Third)</div><div><br /></div><div>Tanna - Kendiae Kandila Noni Aditu (Fourth)</div><div><br /></div><div>Maelondwen - Falliae Kandila Noni Aditu (Fifth)</div><div><br /></div><div>Rinwen - Hensiae Kandila Noni Aditu (Sixth)</div><div><br /></div><div>Faelwen - Settiae Kandila Noni Aditu (Seventh)</div><div><br /></div><div>Hera - Onariae Kandila Noni Aditu (Eighth)</div><div><br /></div><div>Aireiel - Noniae Kandila Noni Aditu (Ninth)</div>Tal'nashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03444033141430616622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-56150607154907079572010-08-06T20:11:00.000-07:002010-08-12T09:47:28.946-07:00Caran Bara<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbOQULd9cj17HDrNtWm5NEWi0Lx9-qZb59l0k70F1oPzdvw84nR53-HQF80d6NDaw-FxTymYO9I_nZahdBBWVksLHHLBwZHOo-Kn4M6vvXoZMYjXR_bgTkCJhc9frAlCBfJp3lTHfFmg/s1600/Boar_Skull_Decal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbOQULd9cj17HDrNtWm5NEWi0Lx9-qZb59l0k70F1oPzdvw84nR53-HQF80d6NDaw-FxTymYO9I_nZahdBBWVksLHHLBwZHOo-Kn4M6vvXoZMYjXR_bgTkCJhc9frAlCBfJp3lTHfFmg/s320/Boar_Skull_Decal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502502338876118066" /></a><br /><br />His blades are seen in the warband<br />in the struggle with the hard foe.<br />Before the rumble of his shield there is flight:<br />innumerable men fled before Limmer’s hill-fort.<br />As his hand did grip<br />his sturdy lime-board shield.<br />He pushed, he was pushed.<br />Those that he struck,<br />did not strike back,<br />but were slain.<br /><br />With red-sided blades<br />filling the ground.<br />Wearing gold at the forefront of battle<br />the laureate Gaesatae does slay men.<br />The Sereg in his station, the boar of the company,<br />Ydar violent in slaughter, the reddened manslayer in fury.<br /><br /><br /><em>Composed by Greyus Club-foot, Skald of King Breor Barelegs, after the Battle of Limmer Hill, Ashanor 1107. The subject rewarded him handsomely<br /></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994907524604464860.post-13000617096841365002010-08-05T11:08:00.000-07:002010-08-05T11:10:05.247-07:00My father’s pathI am my father’s son. In my manner, my looks, my path through life. Every step I have taken is in his footsteps. He beckons to me from further ahead the road we both walk. I do not begrudge this; I am my father’s son. But my father is dying now; shall I become my own man at last?<br /><br />This day began the same way as every day in the last month. Waking cold and hungry, my sleeping roll damp from the dew. No time for breakfast, no time for anything but donning my armour and weapons and rolling up my bedding. It will still be damp if I un-roll it tonight. We will eat on the march as we have done for the last few days; every meal on the march, each night spent cold and dark, no fires, being woken to take watch. They caught us once in the dark and we suffered for it. We cannot let them catch us again. Short cold nights; long cold days. Sleep and march. Our captain will allow us to do nothing but. To slow is to die. To turn and fight is to die. To make for the Great Wood is to bring death to our homes. So we woke this morning to continue running. If our captain started the day with a plan then he did not share it and it has surely gone terribly wrong. My father said nothing of his opinions on this or any other morning. He did not complain so I did not complain. If I have opinions now may I venture them to the captain? Must I remain silent as my father?<br /><br />Though he is not silent now. His screams reach me. Is that my name he is calling?<br /><br />They are tenacious our enemies. They tracked us from the moment we entered their territory. They herded us and sprung their trap. Their only mistake was to underestimate the strength of a Sithi. By the grace of Ugedi they made that mistake and we escaped. They have not made that mistake again. Their numbers are now overwhelming, their assaults brutal, they hound us at a relentless pace. When they come again I will not be able to stop them. Will I die here like my father? Do I still tread the same road as him?<br /><br />We made a wrong decision at noon. We turned north not south. The injuries of our friends cloud our thoughts and we make wrong decisions. Our own injuries slow and distract us. We cannot survive our wrong decisions. When we knew we had made a mistake, that we must turn back, we knew we would meet them face to face again. We knew it would cost us. It was our scout’s fault but no-one blamed him. No-one had seen him sleep since the ambush. He is dead now. Our tired scout. He lies forty paces ahead of me on his back. Three great shafts point up from his body. He failed us again and gave no warning before he fell. The priests of Jkohl say you cannot blame the dead; only atone for their mistakes. I do not believe we will atone. Only pay. When we saw his body, his failure, we knew we had been ambushed again. Knowing made little difference. The captain gave his orders, we followed them in silence. My father made no sound so I made no sound.<br /><br />He will be making sounds now. Thrashing. But I cannot hear that over the screams.<br /><br />They came in a wave and we stopped them with our backs to the tree line. Claws scrabbled at our shields, jaws bit on arms and legs, thick hide stopped all but our heaviest blows. Our long swords were less than useless. Unable to injure them, a danger to ourselves in the close quarters. We knew that before the fight. We too can learn from mistakes. Most of us had drawn shorter, stabbing weapons. Brutal work. Four of ours were down. A dozen of them. Too many and not enough. We fell back into the trees, dragging our wounded, breaking our line round the boles. It made no difference to their attack. Their ways are based not on tactics but on animal cunning. They stopped attacking allowing us a moment to recoup. We followed a trench in the forest floor that led to a clearing. Baradan must have guided my arm during the fighting for I was untouched but had killed many of the beasts. I think before they called off their attack and since then they have begun to fear me. I doubt this fear will hold them back much longer. I was the last to reach the glade, the last to hear my father’s screams. I nearly screamed myself but did not. The first time I have not followed where he led.<br /><br />A rake of claws across his stomach. His armour was in ribbons. So much blood on his legs, his hands, pooling beneath him. Not red blood anymore but black. His liver was torn. Jkohl had grasped my father’s hand and was pulling him towards his halls. Dying while I was living. Bleeding while I was whole. Lying in the dirt while I stood. Was my father proud of me then? As I stepped away from his path? I will ask him soon I think. In the halls of the dead. I made to go to him but my captain stepped between us.<br />“Elohath” he said.<br />“Sereg?”<br />“You must hold them back for us. You must give the priestess time.”<br />“Time?”<br />“There is an old ritual Elohath, using old magic. It can get us home but it requires a lot of power. More than we can normally call upon.” He paused, considering his next words. Amren always considered his words. “There is a lot of power in a life. Power that can be used when a life ends.”<br />I understood his meaning. The others were only injured. My father was dying.<br />“Where should I stand my Sereg?”<br />“At the entrance to the trench , where we entered the glade. Hold there Elohath. You are touched by Baradan this day; I know this to be true. You will hold until we are ready.”<br /><br />And so I stand here. At the mouth of the trench as I was ordered to. There are bodies all around me. Those beasts who attacked me and those who tried to get past. Not one has reached the glade. I stand and fight while my father bleeds. My father is calling, crying, for me. But I do not move.<br />His screaming stops.<br />He is dead. I am alive.<br />The trees are growing pale, ghostly. The ritual is working.<br />I am surrounded by the dream road. Embraced by it. It is familiar to me. My father’s embrace.<br />It is the final path he will forge. A path home. And now I will follow it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1