"Ennggggyyyyeeeee," Julian says, pulling on his collar in discomfort.
"Ennggggyyyyeeeee," Julian says, pulling on his collar in discomfort.
Pardon? Is that something in your homeland language?
"The Sidhe are rumoured to be the rulers of the forest, well after Grungir himself of course."
"Grungir? " Rutilux inquires, though he is also looking a bit worriedly at Julian.
Ana is looking at Julian confusedly.
"Grungir is a legendary Linnorm, believed to be the first and father of all Linnorm. Some say that the only way for someone to claim the title of High King."
Turning to look at Julian, "Is your friend okay?"
"I have no idea," Rutilux admits. Though as he worries, he also wonders Could our liege best this Grungir? I wonder.
"Ancient social custom of Tian."
"I don't believe having Bertram come to this village is an option, he won't fall for it and his people will retaliate, beside if we invite him here he would be our guest and we would be honor bound to insure his safety. Rutilux, it is the old way, but it is still mine."
"Likewise going to the great Linnorm is not an option, this matter is beneath his notice and he would rightly be suspicious of speakers of Savol seeking his where abouts. The Sidhe are an option their nobles must never tell a lie, however their riddles can often be misleading if one does not understand their meaning."
"I do see that we have a few advantages in our favor. First is that many of you are southerners and can enter the logging camp, you have met Bertram and know his face, you could plausibly talk business with him. You have met and spoken to one of the Fae and enjoyed her company at her tree, she gave you the acorns, I would not be surprised if she was one of the Sidhe, you have a name that she gave you. Also you have Ana, who shares the blood and unearthly qualities of her many great grandmother, she should have some status with the Sidhe in my estimation. At least I believe she would find them curious enough to talk to her and not slay her out of hand. Also being outsiders I think would help you there."
"Finally you wear the pendants of the speakers of the Kodiakborne. You words are his words and your promises his obligation. Your words carry weight in any scenario."
"So either Trollheim and the Varisians, or Grungir Wood and the Fae. It seems there's a significant lack of comfort with subterfuge - and it's probably not our strongest suit. My preference is to go to Trollheim and give this Bertram an opportunity to incriminate himself. I believe we might have some success seeking out Gwendolyn as well. "
"I find myself uncomfortable with seeking out the Fae, particularly the Sidhe. As tempting as it is to me personally, I believe we were fortunate in our previous experience with the Fae, and the incidental, non-malicious loss of a month of life frankly frightens me."
"I still believe we should establish the grove as an invitation to communication. I'm... curious... to see how those acorns grow."
Growing a neutral ground to speak with the fae sounds good.
"Perhaps we could also look into finding a way to repair some of the damage to the journal? There could be more useful information in it."
"It's true, Isham. I'm not completely comfortable with subterfuge. I apologize for the difficulties that may cause. Thorvald is right that any action we take reflects on the Kodiakborne. I certainly don't want to dishonor him and that concerns me. Perhaps I worry TOO much about it to the point of inventing shadows before the sun is even out. Dagmar's idea isn't a bad one, but I'm not sure how we could repair the book further. Does anyone know a way? As for where to go first... I'll abide by the choice of the group. I know that indecision and internal conflict can be as deadly as a poison. So whatever the rest of you decide, I'll go by. "
Ana turns to Thorvald with a doubtful expression: "The fae we met knew who I am. If the sidhe were interested in meeting me, they would have done so already. And why do you think my heritage would increase my standing with them? They aren't allied with Irrisen." At least I hope that they aren't. Maybe all of this is just a trick of grandmother - and Redwyn is her loyal minion. What reason do I really have to trust her?
After thinking for a while, she says to the group: "Maybe we should consult Savol in this matter, before taking any action. We've been gone for a whole month, so we should report back anyway. And this matter, while most severe, doesn't look very urgent to me: Bertram has gone without judgement for years already. He probably can wait for a few days longer. Plus, going back to Savol first, before returning to Trollheim would make any subterfuge we might try more plausible."
"I agree with the Princess. We should, at the very least, report in."
"You must know that the Queen of Witches shares the blood of the fey? She is more of their world than ours. And i am saying you may have already met one of the Sidhe in this Redwyne you met. You must know that you can never full trust your eyes in the forest. You have a . . .um, a . . . An Aapect about you that is . . .otherworldly."
"And with due respect this matter is of great importance to us and more importantly to the Oakrun line. I am sure Savol would benefit from the goodwill that would likely result from his speakers looking into this matter. The villagers may handle it themselves in a way that would not be beneficial to the region."
"All right then - plan. We go to Trollheim, with a time budget. We let 'em know we're on our way back to Kodiaborne with a report within the week, and that there's a possibility of our recommending Bertram as an ally, if he's tough enough. Let 'em know that Merroh has lost Ungril to the Devourer. Try to get him into his cups and bragging."
"At the same time, we try to find Gwendolyn, and see what she has to say on the subject."
"Shall we rest tonight, mourne tomorrow, and strike out at first light the following day?"
Rutilux nods, "Respect to the fallen, he deserves a full day of morning."
Jediah sighs . I will go back and speak to Kodiakborne while the rest of you can continue on. He looks at the others. We have been burdened with so much that we are becoming paralyzed with indecision. We go to complete one task and two more appear, we complete one and get another two. We have yet to even establish any sort of agreement between Kodiakborne and this village and we have lost a month due to fey and we can hardly make up our minds abotu what to do. So, I will go back and tell Kodiakborne what has happened, perhaps we will be able to travel together again but for now we must finish our first tasks.
"What was your first task?"
"Jediah, we've lost a month already to the fae. Let us take enough time here to complete this. We are still doing the work of the Kodiakborne, simply in a different order than we'd intended. I believe there is a momentum to this thing, and we should not break off part way."
"If we can not complete this in a week, I don't think we'll be able to come to a resolution in less than a month. If at the end of one week we are not done, then we will all ride off together. For now, let us go together and beard this Bertram in his own den."
"We might not be in Tian, but surely even here there are ways to get messages across long distances."
I would ask Dagmar to recite the story of Ungrills death for the Ulfen in Skald because she is Ulfen and a speaker of Savol and ungrill served Savols father I think you said.
If you will let me I would like to forge a weapon in this fire. This would be a gesture to Torag. A spear would be the easiest, but if you would let me make a Sax, a Handaxe, a longsword or a two handed sword in the blaze that would be cool Crafting check . . . Epic roll!
If I could get a small piece of the black oak it would be cool to work into the weapon like a sword handle, etc.
I and the other Ulfen perhaps could also give gestures to the other gods. I am still thinking on those My goal would to be to craft a masterwork weapon to help me build my legacy and to have an awesome send off for Ungrill. Then I would use the ashes to help plant the acorns to help them grow around the area of the pyre.
Lol sounds like you've been playing Skyrim. The pyre sounds good but I don't think using it in that way would be culturally appropriate. As an interesting twist on it, why not use the pyre to melt down the weapons of his fallen enemies and then the next day take that metal and forge something new from his memory.
Jediah sighs. Very well Isham, I will agree to your suggestion.
"As will I, if only to keep us from running in circles as Jediah fears and so rightly points out."
As the night grows darker, Ungrill's funeral begins with the sombre act of his closest friends walking up to the unlit pyre, getting one last look at their departed friend then depositing a weapon or a piece of armour, telling all present about who or what Ungrill defeated to to claim that prize. Finally, Thorvald, Ungrill's last remaining blood relative steps forward and places Ungrill's axe upon his breast and lights the pyre. All of the Ulfen present recite prayers in unison as the fire begins to catch and the flames begin to kiss the night sky. No-one noticed just when the lone figure had joined the ceremony with his back to the forest and head bowed towards the pyre.
"Ungrill, son of the North, was known to us as well, for his bravery and his courage We the Court of the Emerald Night do on this night mourn his loss and rejoice that his passing, like all before pave the way for spring." With that, several mournful wails from hunting horns can be heard within the forest and that note is slowly picked up by more and more as it flows outwards and deeper into the forest until sounds the the whole of Grungir forest is crying until the notes fade below your hearing.
With the flames burning bright the lone figure looks up and folds back his hood. Standing before you is a tall, lithe being that vaguely looks like and elf but with far more pronounced and pointed feature and long ears that trail backwards parallel to his long mane of hair. The being is dressed in unusual armour that appears to some of you as being painted on because it flows across his form like a second skin. The man wears no weapons but seems to stand poised like a great hunting cat, ready to pounce at any moment despite his relaxed and open pose. "We bring the teeth of the Devourer to add to his trophies if we may. he pauses and opens his hands revealing several of the monster teeth, cleaned and polished to an ivory finish holding them out and seeming to wait for permission.
Thorvald appears to be taken aback and swallows visibly at the sounding of horns. Those who look closely enough might even say they saw tears forming at the edges of the big warriors eyes. He laid his spear down gently in the snow then with a trembling hand he releases the clasp of his cloak letting it fall from his shoulders and steps forward showing his empty hands. With a reverent and deeply touched tone he replies, "Lord of the Forest your presence here honors my Uncle, my house and my people greatly. To hear you speak those words heals my heart and gives me much comfort. Ungrill and Dolva both taught me respect for your house. As a boy the spirits of your forest home kept me safe as I played in your streams and slept beneath your emerald boughs. It is right that we both mourn and celebrate his passing for Ungrill did defeat the Devouer. Though he fell mortally wounded he did also reveal to us why our houses have been estranged. Among the beasts hoard was found evidence showing that an outside enemy sought to separate us from our age old pacts. You are right that those fangs represent his greatest legacy. As his last remaining blood kin, I invite you to add whatever you would to Ungrill's pyre and thank you and the court for your favor you have shown us both before and on this night."
Dagmar searches the fae's face for any reaction when Thorvald mentions the evidence. I wonder if they even care which human village it being punished, as long as someone is. Though I know that I would at least be upset at being lied to and used to destroy someone else's competition.
Dagmar will also fetch the book in case it shows any interest in looking at it.
Rutilux stays quiet as Thorvald speaks, but does give a polite bow to the fae's ambassador
Jerome nods in greeting as well.
Zethyris watches warily as the fae approaches, but remains quiet and respectfully bows.
Julian, oddly feeling both irritation and boredom, remembers, for some reason, a time when he was younger and he felt strange about his aunt with the long hair. He self-corrected and thought of who winced when he mentioned poison before and who did not.
Hearing of this "evidence" the fae's right eyebrow rises sharply. Speaking quietly, "There is time for that afterwards." He walks up and carefully tosses the teeth into the fire. You're not sure whether it was the magic of the teeth or something the fae did but as soon as the teeth disappeared into the flames they erupt skywards and coalesce above as a silhouette of the Devourer but then a younger image of Ungrill follows in the next burst from the pyre, swinging his axe and the beast and then Ungrill fade in a shower of sparks.
After the formal part of the funeral ends and everyone else moves back towards town to feast and drink in celebration, some cheering and laughing about the spectacle in the flames while others eye the fae warily and hurry closer to their homes, the fae man stands patiently waiting halfway between the pyre and the forest.
Rutilux moves to the fae as the celebration winds down, wondering if he is ready to talk yet.
Speaking in Sylvan Thorvald speaks after the proper respects have been given."Forest Lord, I know that you must already know my name, but I Thorvald thank you for that last image of my uncle Ungrill. I shall carry it with me for inspiration. If we may approach you I believe the maiden Dagmar has something that might be of interest to you."
Zethyris heads off to the feasting, but as he notices Thorvald and Dagmar speaking with the fae, he swallows his food, gulps down his ale, and walks over. This could be interesting. Hopefully someone will be able to tell me what they are talking about.
examples
I am speaking in gnoll.
"Whereas this is speaking common.
Isham approaches the Sidhe Lord carefully, and bows respectfully, "Great Lord, you honor us, and the memory of Ungrill, with your presence. It is also propitious - we had planned to establish a grove here, in memory of Ungrill, as a place set aside for human and fae to peacefully and openly discuss issues and concerns. It appears you have assayed a site for this grove. A dryad of Grungir wood granted us acorns from her oak as tokens - we will plant them now in the tradition of the white oak, so this gift will continue to act as a source of understanding." So saying, Isham takes 10 paces toward the forest, briefly scrapes a hole, and reverently plants his acorn. He indicates to the others that they should plant the others in a circle around the Sidhe. Returning to the Sidhe, Isham says, "The headman of Morreh has agreed that his folk will tend this grove as a gesture of commitment to a respectful relationship."
During the ceremony Ana stays in the back, but she watches intently what the fae lord does.
Assuming the fae doesn't show offense to Isham's idea, Dagmar will do the same with her acorn as well.
After Thorvald mentions that Dagmar may have something of interest to the fae, she will approach with the journal in hand. "We found this journal in the beasts lair. It appears to mention how the beast was brought to the forest and set free."
Rutilux takes a deep breath, and plants his acorn as well. Whatever gods are friends to the fae, please let them see that we desire peace and friendship.
"Symbolism," Julian intones importantly as he plants his acorn.
Jediah follows suit and plants his acorn as well.
The fae stands there patiently while each of you bury the acorn that Redwyn gave you and listens as Isham explains his hopes for this action. He also patiently listens as you explain about the book and hand it to him. Once he has the book he will carefully open it and read through each and every page, including the damaged ones, until he reaches the end. Forcing you all to wait for a few minutes while he does so. After the last page, the book is snapped shut violently. "If this book is true then it seems that our ire needs be redirected." Watching and reading all of your faces looking for any signs of subterfuge or duplicity he shows no outwards signs of what he sees. Turning back towards the woods he pulls out his own ornate hunting horn, lifts it to his lips and from it comes a terrible, short and incredibly hate filled note that reverberates through the air and then repeated several times to the south. The song of the Wyld Hunt.
The Wyld Hunt is something told in old stories. If a town or village did something to upset the Fae, or more specifically the Sidhe, a war party would descend upon the town riding strange horses with strange animals at their side and they would capture or kill ever person present and drag them back into the forest never to be seen again, leaving only a ghost town.
Moments later faint shrieks and cries can be heard from the south in the direction of Bertram's lumber camp.
"We appreciate you bringing this to us. From this day forth this town and its people may once again enter out forest and collect wood as long as they respect the sanctity of our realm. This grove you propose will help you learn so let us try." he waves his hand over the freshly planted acorns and before your eyes they grow into saplings. "For your parts in the destruction of the Devourer and revealing its true source what boons may we grant you?"
Rutilux doesn't know what has been done exactly, but it sounds very bad, A dozen desires creep into my mind. A lovely woman who loves me and who I can love in return. A flail of mystic might. A castle and land for my family. So many things. But if I'm to be true to honor... I cannot let women be butchered. he steps forward, "Then my boon is this. Whatever force of vengeance you have unleashed on that southern town, spare the women and any children that might be among them. Bring them to us safe and sound. If you find that too merciful, Allow them a chance to pledge to the Kodiakborne and take up allegiance to his cause. I know my lord would prefer new soldiers to join him, but give us the women instead, so that they might proudly serve this new kingdom being reclamed from the ashes of an old one.... I know he would want mercy for them as do I." Or so I believe. I must believe. My family's new master is honorable, and if I have wasted a boon... well, it is mine to waste.
Thorvald listened to the screams and horns to the south. It was the old way, The Wyld Hunt had been unleashed and was upon the southerners, but they had brought it upon themselves. Thorvald and his people had learned to be honest and respectful of the Sidhe and their realm, in return the Emerald Court had shared their bountiful realm with them. The southerners had sought to manipulate, cheat and exploit the forest lords and were now reaping their just rewards. This sould serve as a harsh and stark reminder to my people that the old pacts must be followed least their fate become ours. Those that have forgotten or grown flippant in their adherence to the laws of the wood had been refreshed tonight. The Emerald Court would not be trifled with.
When Rutilux asked for his boon, Thorvald's heart was in his throat, honestly he didn't know how the fae would react. They were often swift and resolute and life in the north was equally harsh. Still Thorvald thought of his own village being descended upon by Sidhe riders accompanied by strange horrifying and fantastic creatures of the wood blaring horns, killing and capturing every man woman and child and dragging them off to the bowels of the forest never to be seen again. It was truly terrifying, but that was why the people of his village tried to remain in the fae's good graces. The big warrior shivered thinking if it hadn't been for the fact the Ulfen had lived in accordance for so many centuries the fate occurring now to the south might have been swiftly carried out against Merroh eleven years ago with no one left to explain to the world what had happened and no idea why the Wyld Hunt had come to their doorstep.
However cruel and harsh the Sidhe might seem in their methods, especially to the more tenderhearted southerners, none could argue that they weren't expedient, resolute and final. And to think I had even wasted one thought at lashing out or going into the forest out of anger. Also, if Savol was here I too wonder what he would say or wish privately, for even he must feel as a speck of dust when compared to the ancient wood and its eternal lords. They are not of this world.