Amergin the Wise |
"It's not that simple," Sister Cobhlaith intervenes. "The boys, along with many who were there when we thwarted Conchobar's assassination, did everything they could to convince their kinsmen to pay the honour-price, to no avail. The boys would never have reclaimed their birthright if they had not reluctantly agreed... It's never simple. I fear that those poor boys will need to make more than a few hard choices in the near future."
"I made my decision. They made theirs," Fintan states with a shrug. "As for returning to Tuaim, you're right. It's not a good idea. Sister Cobhlaith still has the compass..."
Aoife FitzStephen |
"It is simple!" Aoife stated. "It's just hard." She added. "The right thing is always hard...." She rubbed her hands over her face a few times sighing. "Did any of those who could have helped pay the price actually step foreword and help lighten the load upon Fintan? Or did they stand to the side and watch?" She asked. "They are alive because of us and left us to die." Aoife told her bluntly.
"We have no weapons, nor armor." Aoife told her brother. "They took everything! Our blades, our armor,... my cloak!" She snapped. "We can't go running around God know where, with nothing to defend ourselves with... honestly I feel naked without my cloak... like my skin is missing..." She hissed as she scratched at her arms.
Ruadhán Ó'Brolacháin |
Ruadhán has remained quiet, enduring all. Becoming increasingly introverted as the misery drives him back to the time after his wife's death. And yet despite this he takes in the faces of the tormentors, every little detail stored away in his memory. When released and brought before the lords he continues to keep quiet, noting details of those present, fuelling the burning hatred inside him. When he sees Fintan, he is overcome with gratitude tinged with the despair of being part of the ruin of Largay. As they are stopped, he drops to one knee. "Lord Fintan, very few if any other lords would have done as you have, for that I will always be at your service, whatever you may need. What can we do to recompense you for our rescue and to restore your fortunes? After that we have some debts to pay to some of the warriors and lords who left us to rot and treated us worse than animals. They will be receiving visits they were not expecting and they will pay. The bible says 'an eye for an eye' and I intend to collect."
Daire McKiernan |
"We have our skin and our wits. And unlike poor Padraic, our tongues to speak of them.", Daire cuts in.
"We can find arms and armour. And while I understand the ways of kings and their conceits, I also understand that leaving an insult like this unchallenged would shame us twice over."
Thorun Madsen |
After his one sentence, Thorun falls back into silence. Sea of corpses, eh? You swore you'd cut through it all to get back to Aoife. Now you damn killed a king, ruined a family, and you're neck deep in corpses. Not even a bit closer to her. Thorun scowls. You're juts a mad dog. Killing whatever is put in front of you with little thought as to why.
Amergin the Wise |
"An eye for an eye and the whole world will become blind," Fintan answers Ruadhan and Daire. Niall O’Fialain once spoke the very same words a lifetime ago...
"My loyalty to you was as true as your service to me," he continues, addressing Ruadhan. "You have spoken about moving your family to our lands. We have little now to offer, but we would be honoured to have you as a client."
"And you are also always welcome, Thorun Madsen."
As they speak, Fintan's men open the chest, curious to see what small recompense might have been granted, which could alleviate the struggle that all of Largay will endure in the years to come. Inside, there are masterwork weapons and armour, along with a few heavy pouches of gold coins. Not enough to recover what was paid, but certainly enough to get through the winter...
"The MacLochlain boys must have raided the armoury," Fintan comments.
"These are the finest weapons and armour that we have," one of the men of Inishowen answers. "It's the least that we could do. For what it's worth, many of us feel terrible about how you were treated both by our enemies and by our allies."
"It is done. We thank you. These are most generous. You may assure young King MacLochlain that the McGovern are, and forever will be, his friends and allies," Fintan answers gracefully, giving the men of Inishowen their leave.
Within reason, you may now all equip yourselves with masterwork weapons and armour.
Aoife FitzStephen |
"Would have been nice if they gave me my g$# d*+n cloak back." Aoife hissed under her breath. "Or have just let us go, that would have worked too."
"Do you want us to take these and go?" Aoife asked Fintan. "It will keep us away from your mother long enough for you to settle her down... she'll still complain when we get back... but it is better than nothing."
Daire McKiernan |
Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
"Since indeed God considers it just to repay with affliction those who afflict you...I still think some afflicting is in order.", Daire says, his eyes flicking meaningfully towards Pádraic.
"God bless the MacLaughlin boys for this much at least.", says Daire as he makes to rummage through the chest.
Thorun Madsen |
Thorun rouses from his stupor as the chest is opened and he is beckoned over. He lumbers over and stares down, the pile of bristling metal gazing up at him expectantly. His fingers twitch and his nostrils flare. "No." He steps away from the weapons. "Nothing I've ever done with metal in my hands has been good. Why would that change now?"
Aoife FitzStephen |
A little taken back by Thorun's words, Aoife chewed on her lower lip before she move and grabbed anything akin to what Thorun used in battle before. Moving to the large man she clapped him on the arm with her free hand. "You saved my life." Aoife reminded him as she offer a smile and the weapon. "I'd be dead twice over if it wasn't for my friends. Of which you are apart of Thorun. True a weapon can harm... but it can also defend." She said. "So if you will not take it up in the name of yourself, then do so in the name of your friends. Who are still in dear need of you and your skill."
Ruadhán Ó'Brolacháin |
" That is true my lord, but if good men and women stand by and let others flout the ancient laws and leave honour behind, then we might as well be animals. At the very least, if they will not give their cattle then we will take them. It is after all, the way it has always been and very hard to prove" At this Ruadhán's anger seems burned away and replaced by a wolfish grin.
For that, and for so much more, I will bring my family to your lands if I can. If I can bring any of my few cattle as well, well then they are yours too, for I owe you my life."
Seeing the chest opening, Ruadhán's wolfish grin comes back, before a low whistle escapes him as he realises the quality of the weapons. A quick scan reveals a lack of the shorter blades he is used to, but his eye is drawn to a well made hold. His small knowledge of weapon making tells Ruadhán that this blade is extremely well made although slender for it's type and the decorations are beautiful although simple. Chasing after the men of Inishowen he calls out for them to stop, before running to catch them up.
" Thank you for your words there and thank you for your help, but I would ask one more favour if you know it. All the best blades have names and some even have stories, this blade with its wolf head pommel is distinctive, do any of you know it's name or history?"
Thorun Madsen |
"Never have taken up a weapon in my own name. Always in the name of some lord, or some family, or some person..." He pauses, shaking his head. "Aoife. You weren't saved. You were lucky." He looks at her from the corner of his eyes. "Lucky you weren't on the other end of that axe."
Aoife FitzStephen |
"You have never threaten me with you weapon Thorun." Aoife told him. "Even when in the battle trance you seem to take, you have only ever come to my aid." She explained. "When I cut into the usurper it was you who came to my side and fought at my back." She reminded him. "It was you who pulled me from danger while Daire and Ruadhán held the line. You save me Thorun... even if you don't remember it... I do. And always will."
Thorun Madsen |
Thorun begins to shake his head, but stops himself. How many battles have you been in with this lot? How many times have you had the chance? He looks down at his hands. After staring at them for a moment, he nods. Reaching down he begins to equip himself. Sorry f@&+. Don't roll over and die like that.
Amergin the Wise |
"Best if you all don't show up in Tuaim anytime soon," Fintan agrees. "Take what you need and go. And be careful. I wish that I could come with you, but..."
He shrugs. He is playing the part that was always his by right, but which would have better suited his brother.
When they are ready, Fintan embraces them all. He holds Aoife a moment longer, then turns away and leads his men South...
Aoife FitzStephen |
Aoife takes her time gathering what she wanted from the chest. Two longswords and a lamellar. "There doesn't happen to be any spare trousers?" Aoife asked. "I'd rather not fight in a dress. Not comfortable." She stated.
If given trousers Aoife changes and hands off her smock though she keeps the surcoat as a type of tunic, tying the sides together before putting the lamellar on.
When the depart and Aoife embraces her brother, she worries that as before this might be the last time. So before she lets go she whispered
Aoife then watches Fintan and her men leave, and remains there till she can no longer see any of them. "Where do we go first?" She finally asked her friends.
Daire McKiernan |
Strapping finely made leather to himself, and a thin blade at his side, Daire turns and says:
"How about we make a start on retrieving those cattle, which are clearly ours by all but possession?", he says, winking at Ruadhan.
The twinkle remains in his eye a moment longer than it might.
Amergin the Wise |
survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
survival: 1d20 + 9 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 9 - 1 = 9
survival: 1d20 + 9 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 9 - 2 = 10
survival: 1d20 + 9 - 3 ⇒ (13) + 9 - 3 = 19
survival: 1d20 + 9 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 9 - 4 = 11
survival: 1d20 + 9 - 5 ⇒ (5) + 9 - 5 = 9
survival: 1d20 + 9 - 6 ⇒ (7) + 9 - 6 = 10
August 19th, 1166
Fintan bids them goodbye and safe journey. He seems reluctant to go as he knows that he will receive a cool welcome in Tuaim – the chest of weapons and gold coins will do little to feed the people of Largay when winter comes.
"The summer will be fruitful," Sister Cobhlaith promises Fintan with a gentle smile.
"May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm on your face, the rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand," she prays as Fintan and his men head South.
The heroes of Largay watch their kinsmen go, and then get on their own way. On foot, their plan is to go West across rocky hills to traverse the neck of the Inishowen peninsula and reach the River Swilly... However, when the sun sets and they have yet to reach the river, they realize that they have lost their way! They come upon a small farming settlement, North of a large stone circle.
Aoife FitzStephen |
"You know, I'm starting to think He's just laughing at me." Aoife told the group when they noticed they had once again gotten lost. "Keeps me from death just to watch me run around." She joked.
"But does anyone have a clue where we are?"
Thorun Madsen |
Thorun snaps out of his stupor as Aoife talks. He looks up and sweeps the area, frowning. "I miss that map."
Hoping the others can figure out where they are, he takes another look at his new axe. Blade was longer and narrower than he liked, but it would work well enough. "I wonder what kind of joke He plays by keeping me around." Thorun asks no one in particular.
Aoife FitzStephen |
Aoife whinced like the tip of a needle had just pierced her skin. They had survived... but lost everything. Even what they had now was not their own. The clothes they wore had been given by those who imprisoned them, the armor and weapons a favor from Fintan after being given to him. She had caused them to lose it all. "I'm sorry." Aoife told Thorun.
Ruadhán Ó'Brolacháin |
Know Geog: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
"Aye, that map was a very useful thing to have, as I really have no idea where we are. Still there is a farm up there, perhaps we can get food and directions from them."
Ruadhán adjusted the way his new chainshirt sat on his shoulders, it was heavier than his old leather armour and yet almost as comfortable. Then loosening 'Ulv Ånde' in it's scabbard he struck out for the settlement. The blade was longer than he was used to, but he was beginning to like it. He had confirmed the words with Thorun, it seemed right for it's name to be in Danish as it was likely from that warrior nation.
As Thorun and Aoife doubted themselves, Ruadhán found his burgeoning faith giving him confidence rather than doubts.
"After all that you have seen Sister Cobhlaith and Brother O'Maille perform, do you still doubt that God smiles on them, and if he smiles on them and we count them friends, does he not support us as well?..... I believe there are good forces and evil forces in this world and always have been, whether they have always been aspects of God and Satan I do not know. If there are forces like that, is it not possible that our plans have been affected by the workings of the other side for we are but mortal. Do not question your value to the world, you have done great things, even if the value is yet to be seen."
Aoife FitzStephen |
"Ruadhán my dear, dear friend." Aoife said as she allowed a bit of humor to come back into her voice. "We need to work with you are sarcasm. It's like when you said I'd have to shut up for once while playing Cobhlaith's slave." She tried to explain as she gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, I remember that." She grinned.
Thorun Madsen |
If nobody says anything Thorun will tag along and hang out in the back. He's not opposed to staying behind or hiding nearby though.
Daire McKiernan |
K Geography: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Daire pauses a moment. Licks his finger. Tests the wind. And then points...
"This is Raphoe. South of Raphoe is the ancient Beltany stone circle. We are a half-day away from the river, which is now...North-east. We're close! And that was a great map. The book, well, it was an *unwitting* gift, so I can hardly be too enraged at it going astray. The manner though deserves a river of blood."
"In any case, we can avoid that farm entirely. And should."
And finally turns to Aoife and Ruadhán.
"Do not think I missed your words. Aoife, you have some cheek to think the fate of all rests on your fine shoulders. We all have to bear it, even if you do manage to spur us on more than most. So do not fret so much, and let us get back to finding a lost piece of power and getting vengeance on the road."
Aoife FitzStephen |
"I agree upon avoiding the farm... when we enter places things tend to go wrong." Aoife pointed out with a shrug however when Daire pointed out her words she was slightly shocked that he knew what was in her head and why she said she was sorry. Then again, it could mean little else.
"It was my idea to ambush them." Aoife stated. "and it was because of me we where caught." She told him. "I've just... come to understand that."
Amergin the Wise |
Survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Ruadhan and Thorun find a perfect spot to spend the night – in a safe crevasse where they can light a fire – and catch a fat rabbit, which makes for the first fair meal they have had in some time. They may have lost their way, but spending the night under the stars is a welcome change from the prison they endured these last few days.
In the morning, feeling refreshed, they head NW. They cross the river Swilly easily and by mid-afternoon, they arrive near Gortnavern. Avoiding the few farmsteads, they trudge through lowland bogs and then hike up a hill to reach the portal tomb. From atop the hill, they can see Carrowkeel and Mulroy Bay.
"I was beginning to believe that you would never come!" Old Amergin greets them cheerfully. He is preparing hot pine tea...
Aoife FitzStephen |
Aoife had been the last to go to sleep that night. She would say that sleep had just evaded her but in truth... she had waited till she believed the others had found sleep before curling into herself and crying. She had kept all the tears from their days in prison. The tears for her friend Padriac, form getting her friends into this, the way they where treated, even down to the embarrassment of having to bathe with her friends while strangers stood watching them. Uncomfortable to most... humiliating for her.
Yet through tears was brought a deep slumber that made up for the time spent not asleep and the day seemed to greet her with warmer light. Unlike before Aoife wasn't as talkative till they got to the top of the hill and she saw Amergin. "Amergin!" Aoife cried joyfully as she gave the old man a hug. "What are you doing here?" She asked.
Amergin the Wise |
"I've been waiting for all of you!" he answers with a smile. The wolf pelt on his shoulders is a harrowing reminder of what was lost. Thankfully, the tactful old man refrains from asking why Aoife is not wearing her own cloak, which he tanned and stitched himself. "Crossing between worlds is no easy thing, and you'll need me to remain here and keep the portal open."
He hands them hot tea and invites them to sit by the fire.
Aoife FitzStephen |
"So, are we going back then?" Aoife asked as she took the tea and sat by the fire. "To another time like before? Or what?" She did her best to keep her mind off of the cloak she was so dearly missing, and refrained from scratching at her skin.
Daire McKiernan |
Daire goes quiet on the way.
Perhaps I overplayed my hand. My tongue may be kin of silver but is my heart likewise?
Not for the first time, Daire wonders at the strength of the powers he gained despite his lacklustre efforts at learning at the side of Ruarcc...
*****
"Ahoy, Amergin! I trust the night sees you fare well? And sure, what's a bit of a hop through to another world, eh?"
Bluff to conceal fears: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (17) + 17 = 34
Ruadhán Ó'Brolacháin |
Glad that someone can work out where they are, Ruadhán is only too happy to follow Daire's directions, and from there it doesn't take long to Find a great little camping spot.
With food caught and eaten, Ruadhán lies awake briefly, thinking of his family and how to get them safe to Largay, along with his cattle and pick up some more too to pay back his debt. He is just drifting off when he hears faint crying, but he is already too far towards to sleep to think anything more of it than a dream.
As they climb the hill and Amergin appears in view, a smile breaks out on Ruadhán's face for the first time in a while. Excepting a hot cup of tea, he slurps at it greedily as he listens to the others.
Thorun Madsen |
Thorun's passive looming is broken by the old man's talk of crossing worlds and portals. "What in tha hell are you talking about?"
Amergin the Wise |
"Crossing into the underworld like the heroes of old!" he answers Thorun bluntly.
"As for when... I don't know," the old man shrugs. "I admit that I never crossed over myself. The Tuatha de Danann were our enemies, after all. And it is only after we defeated them that they took refuge in the underworld. Back then, gates such as this one would have been watched and guarded. But that was a distant and different time. Now…”
You speak as if you were there?” Sister Cobhlaith asks, wondering if Amergin is entirely delusional and if all of this is no more than a fool’s errand. He simply smiles.
"But I am certain that you will be fine," he reassures Daire, seeing through his pretence against all odds. ”Just stay your path, and don’t be led astray by the tricks of the Aos Si.”
Single roll for the spoilers below:
Sister Cobhlaith - Knowledge, history: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8 Not good enought!
Daire McKiernan |
Daire gives Amergin a funny look, but then smiles.
Knowledge History: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
"We shall be alike the Milesians, Amergin. Though I too would know of the Aos Si."
Amergin the Wise |
Faced with how much of the past has been forgotten or worse purposefully omitted by pious bards, Amergin sighs. "Fairies," Amergin explains. "But to call them fairies suggests that they are nothing more than spirits. Back then, the Aos Si was a rich and proud culture. Their kings and queens held court and waged war just as we do today."
Amergin throws some odd-looking mushrooms into the pot over the fire.
"There were the Summer and Winter courts. The Summer Court was ruled by good and kind fairies; the Winter Court, by malevolent creatures who took pleasure in assaulting unsuspecting travellers. And then there were the solitary fairies who were often the best and the worst of them all..."
"Be warned: light or dark, fairies are mischievous and will lead you astray as often as show you the right path."
Aoife FitzStephen |
"How do you tell them apart?" Aoife asked. "Is it as easy as telling summer from winter?" She continued. "Why would the spear be with them? How did it get there to begin with? And... will we need to worry about the one you mentioned before? The one the controlled Queen Aoife."
Amergin the Wise |
"Unfortunately, they are near impossible to tell apart. Some will seduce you will light and guide you into the darkness. Others will have the semblance of monsters, but be generous and kind. As for the spear, I do not know. I know only that it cannot be in our world as it's power would have been felt."
"And you should always worry about Ailbe as, indeed, she will be most powerful in the underworld," he warns.
"Young Conchobar was under the influence of a dark curse," Sister Cobhlaith interjects. "Could it be the power of this evil spirit?"
"This was found on the assassin," Sister Cobhlaith continues, retrieving a small glass vial from her satchel and handing it to Amergin. Aoife recognizes it immediately as being quite similar to the one that they had found on Lord Fiacre Quinn, some time ago, when they left Tuaim for the first time...
"Assuredly, there was poison in the vial," Amergin explains, sniffing its vapours. "But I no longer have the power to detect the lingering presence of a curse, unfortunately."
Aoife FitzStephen |
"A poison with a curse." The young half-breed states. "That vial has a twin I've met before. A man named Fiacre Quinn had it... my brother now gone said it reeked of dark magic. Said he must of gotten it from a witch.... I think now that witch could be Ailbe, that spirit might have set all this in motion!" Aoife told the others. It was obvious now that she didn't care how crazy it sounded.
"I would bet my life that if you could you'd find dark magic upon that vial." Aoife declared with a nod towards it. "This Ailbe, how can I know her? Is she from the Winter court? Will weapons even be of use?"
Thorun Madsen |
Thorun stares out at the wilderness as the old man rambles. He's gone mad. But as he stares he can't help but think of the miracles he's witnessed, the flesh knitting in front of his eyes. Why wouldn't equally dark things be present? Gods be damned, a simple life is just too much to ask isn't it?
Daire McKiernan |
Daire pipes up.
"You said back then and once. If the Aos Si are not just spirits, what are they now?"
Amergin the Wise |
"It's been so long since they escaped into the Underworld that it is impossible for me to say what has become of the Aos Si," he answers Daire. "As for Ailbe, she was of the Winter Court. But I cannot guess how she would manifest, if at all. She was a shapechanger and a witch, and more often than not, she manipulated others – such as Queen Aoife and Conchobar’s would-be assassins – to do her bidding."
"To destroy her, you would need Claíomh Solais – King Nuada’s Sword of Light,” Amergin continues. ”As I told Brother O’Maille, it was lost long ago but you might find answers at the Well of Wisdom, at the source of the River Boyne in the Underworld…”
Thorun Madsen |
Thorun shakes his head. "Old man, I don't think you're the kind to lie to us. And I don't think you've quite gone mad yet. What is this, one of those...comparison things?" He says, failing to find the word for metaphor. "Speak to us plainly."
Aoife FitzStephen |
Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22
"You know you would think something as important as that would be kept close." Aoife said with a sigh. "So the spear is our goal now, along with finding the Well. With the sword we can protect ourselves from Ailbe and with the spear we can ensure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. Maybe even use to protect Ireland from outsiders and change things here..." Aoife bit her bottom lip as through for a moment. "Amergin, how does one use the Well? Can one drink right from it?"
Ruadhán Ó'Brolacháin |
Know(local): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
"I'm with Thorun on this one. I only ever half believed what you said about a trip to the past. Now what you are saying seems gibberish, the sword of light, the well of wisdom and the Aos Si have you all cracked? How does any of this fit with what the bible tells us? I will follow you wherever it is necessary to go, but I am lost with what you mean."
Aoife FitzStephen |
Aoife looked between Ruadhán and Thorun a bit annoyed that after everything they didn't believe her. Truly she was more hurt than anything. "I'm sorry but do either of you think me a liar? Or a mad woman?" Aoife confronted them. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to tell you that story?! Yet still you believe I lied to you. What would I possibly have to gain from that?" She asked giving a furious shake of her head. "Uha... why do I bother..." She sighed after a moment. "You will not believe bo matter what I say... thus will see soon enough."