Drake nods at the old borderer, returning his smile with a friendly one of his own. He reaches out to grasp the older man's hand in a friendly gesture.

"Thank you for the company. Safe road ahead friend."

Raising his hand in farewell to Fergus and his company, Drake turns to his companions.

"We will rest here for the night. Get some hot grub and few hours shuteye."
"I will do some asking around about the ruined city."
"We will leave on the morrow at dawn."

"Questions?"

He pauses for a moment, looking at the faces of his companions. Then motioning for his companions to follow, he turns and walks on, making straight for the Moot Hall.

Lute looked at him uncomprehendingly and Jon just sneered...then they turned and followed him.

Within the hall torches burn brightly and you are suprised to find no watch upon the door.  Within are low trestles about which stand people who seem almost of a kind, at least in part, with the youths you saw in the glade...though these folk show the scars of work and the lines of age upon their faces.

An elderly man, dressed like the others in a pale woolen shift, points at you as you enter, " A blessed eve!  More road-weary souls come to our table."

" Eat! Drink!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:17, Fri 16 Dec 2016.

Drake glances cautiously around the hall, noting the layout, as well as the people within. He takes his time to size up each person, measuring the threat each might pose to himself and the party.

He nods politely and smiles at the elderly man.

"Thank you for your welcome good Sir."

Spying a small table at the side of the hall, he motions his fellows forward while he continues with the elderly man.

"We are from Rosmuillean. Travelled in the company of Fergus mac Róich and his borderers. We parted ways just outside your village. Certainly we did not expect to find such a welcome here in the middle of Siren Woods."

"What is this place Sir? And who are you?"

"We have seen some men and women with your likeness but younger in the forest. They called to us but we did not stop for them."

" This place? Our village is called Mimirs Well, young one. It is named after the great god Mimir who dwelled here in the ancient times."

" My name I gave up to the winds when I took my vows, most here and our visitors simply call me Elder or Old One."

" Fergus? He's a good sort, keeps his people in line. We're glad for the company when the borderers pass through but some of their folk can be a little wearing at times."

He smiled sadly when Drake mentioned the youths, " They are the lost. Most of our children know enough to not walk beneath the trees except when the snowdrops are flowering but every now and then one disobeys and the Good Folk take them away."

" You saw them at the lake?  Some of the parents travel there sometimes but they do not know us anymore and they cannot and will not leave their play...it is how it has always been."

" You are bound for the Bracks?", he looked at Drakes two companions curiously.

Drake bows in reverence to the old man.

"Old One."

"I am Hadrik. And these are my associates."



Drake's gaze soften in compassion. He lowers his eyes and bows his head in empathy.

"I am sorry for your loss. You and your village. I cannot begin to understand how terrible it must be to lose one's children, without hope of their ever returning.."

Drake takes a brief moment to study the old man standing before him. He furrows his brow slightly in curiosity.

"You are a servant of Mimir?"

"Mimir...I do not know this god. Pray tell who is he?"

"And what service do you perform for him here in the middle of an enchanted forest inhabited by fey folk?"

"I have heard tell there is an ancient city named for him. Is its whereabouts near here?"

The old man smiled broadly, apparently on to one of his favourite topics, " Mimir is the ancient god of knowledge and thought, his people dwelled here in the ancient days before even the Fomoraig came down from the north.  His people were wise and they dwelled in the City of Mimir and brought forth knowledge of the earth, stars, building, physic and other such things."

" We are the last of their descendants and it is my duty to watch over and care for all my people until the last of us passes or I pass myself."

" The city? You stand within it, Mimirs Well once supplied waters to the great city, you can see some of the ancient walls within our homes.  There are many parts of the city hereabouts, the section most untouched by the forest is that which lies around the monolith and the ancient temple of Mimir....there are some visitors there even now dealing with...some unpleasantness."

Drake's eyes glitter with interest and curiosity.

"Tis hard to imagine truly, that a great city of a learned and wise people, once used to sit right here..."

"Old One, if you are so inclined, I will be most honored to hear you tell of its tale."

He makes a gesture of invitation towards the small table where his fellows are gathered. Lute, his face split in a wide childlike grin, is attacking a haunch of venison with gusto, while opposite, Jon wolfs down a steaming platter of potatoes. Watching his fellows enjoy their food, a loud drawn-out growl issues from Drake's belly and his mouth suddenly fills up with saliva...


Drake raises a brow in (feigned) surprise and bewilderment.

"Visitors? In the ancient temple now? Isn't the city in ruins and abandoned?"

"What manner of unpleasantness?"

" The tale of the city....there were cities here in Glissom many centuries before the bronze-chests arrived.  The city of Nem beyond the mountains, founded before the rise of Nuada...and the great city of Mimir...now fallen which lies on our doorstep."



" In the ancient days of my grandfathers grandfathers it is told the great man Fabius went to see the city it is said despite the wishes of the bronze-chest commander. The tales of our village say that he and the men that went with him did not return...but the bronze-chests left soon after...so i think it likely he did."

" The city fell into ruin many centuries before the Selentine arrived here....to raiders from the Bracks it is said...."

" Mimir blesses us with his wisdom....perhaps he will bless your endeavour? He has always watched over those who sought knowledge...."

" As you know, this village was built around the well but the well used to water the city of Mimir. Most of the near walls are lost to time and the forest, or used to build the houses and hall but there are more ruins nearby in the forest."

" We do not tresspass there out of respect for our god, but Mimir would not begrudge outsiders searching for knowledge."

" The visitors are there destroying some evil left behind by those who destroyed the city in the ancient days...it killed one of their fellows."

Drake takes a seat opposite the old man as he begins his tale. Helping himself to generous portions of the food and drink, he watches the old man intently, giving his full attention to his tale. Knowing that the party could be spending weeks and months looking for the city, or wandering around lost within its ancient ruins, he pays careful attention to the old man's words, here and there plying him with questions, seeking clues to the ancient city's lost treasures, knowledge, and secrets.

"Such a great civilization fallen to ruin, its vast knowledge, wisdom and achievements lost with the passage of time... Are there any surviving records Old One? Perhaps books, scrolls, writings, diagrams, or maps?"

"Old One, you mention that here we are already standing within the city limits. But coming in, we did not see any sign of it..."

At the mention of ancient evil, Drake exchanges glances with his fellows,

"What manner of evil? Sorcery and black magicks? Or perhaps creatures from the Abyss stalk the ancient ruins?"

"On the way here, we passed by a pristine white tower with a fancy arched entrance. Seeing as it lay off the road someways into the forest, we did not dare tarry to find out more. Know you something about it?"

" No, the knowledge of Mimir was carried within the mind and passed on from father and mother to child. All that was written was given into keeping in the temple...or so it is said...it may lie there still..."

" Well, theres not much left of the city....you can see some of the old stones among our village, and the well of course....but there are many ruins within the trees. The forest has reclaimed nearly all of it except for the area around the monolith."

" The visitors spoke of a creature of shadowy aspect, a great terror of darkness....some remnant of the invaders no doubt."

" The tower? I have not ventured that far myself, but Reavers have spoken of it...those who enter do not return...or return somewhat changed in body..", he frowned, "..one of the two..it has been many decades since one has left the road and entered it. I believe it is a lure set by the Good Folk."

Drake nodded thoughtfully as he chewed absently upon a ribbone.

"So...the monolith is the entrance that leads to the temple?"

Setting down his food, he opens his pack and carefully pulls out the Fey Folk darts he picked up earlier. Unwrapping the cloth around the darts, he sets them on the table before the old man. Picking one up carefully, he examines it closely, studying its construction, gauging its effectiveness, trying to see if there's anything about the design to be learned here...

"What do you make of these Old One? Found them in the forest..."

OOC - Drake studies the darts. Are they of a different design from usual darts wielded by humans? Is there any design feature Drake may pick up and perhaps use in his own dart construction?

"We also passed by a strange burial mound right by the old road. There was no headstone nor any indication of who lies there. Know you who is buried there?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Sat 24 Dec 2016.

In reply to Drake Taubron (msg # 44):

Drake is quite puzzled when he unwraps the darts to find the contents of the parcel now consist of three acorns, dry beech leaves and a dead spider...

In reply to Drake Taubron (msg # 44):

The Elder chuckles lightly.

" The mound?  It has been there since before I was born....one of the Good Folk chieftains perhaps?"

Drake's question catches in his throat as he stares shocked at what the darts have become. Suppressing a sudden chill that is running down his spine, Drake sweeps the bundle off the table, strides quickly to the fireplace and casts everything into the roaring fire. Returning to his seat opposite the elder, he grabs his mug of ale and downs everything in a single gulp.

"Blasted Fey sorcery..." he mutters under his breath.


Casting a nervous glance at the elder, Drake fills his mug to the brim and again downs everything in a single gulp.

"More Fey black magic..."

Drake suddenly finds the warm and comfortable Moot Hall chilly. He quickly switches topic.

"These visitors...who are they? And how did they know where to find the temple? Did they already come here seeking it?"

The Elder tutted, " Aye, the Good Folks ways are not ours.....but how long would we have remained here if not for their good graces...."

He frowned slightly at the mention of the visitors, " A strange group....some Borderers among them and some foreign folk...and a Hearth Father.  If not for his presence I would have taken them for ne'erdowells...but he was among them so I believe they have good intentions....well...most of them..."

" They are following the lead of a strange southern man from Ongus or thereabouts i think. He was the one most eager to explore the ruins."

Drake glances sharply at the Elder. The old man's words suggest a most unusual positive, even friendly, disposition towards the Fey Folk and their mysterious frightening ways. Perhaps these villagers are more closely linked with the Fey than they look... His caution heightened, Drake studies the Elder more closely, but not in an unfriendly manner, as he chooses his words carefully.

"Old One. You seem not to be afraid of the Fey Folk. Considering that you live here right in the middle of their forest, this must be a most happy state of affairs for you and your village... I take it they have not bothered you much. And perhaps may have even had some dealings with you?"


The Elder's description suggests these visitors aren't scholars or seekers of knowledge. More like grave-looters and tomb-raiders. And either these strange foreigners have somehow managed to fool the old man with regards to their intentions, or perhaps they have come to a deal of some sort...

"And they have agreed to perform some task for you in return for your help in locating the temple?"

" Afraid? Hmm, I still fear them...but I suppose one grows used to things..."

" No, nothing like that. Mimir is the god of knowledge, he would not want me to stand in the way of folks seeking it.  I can take you to the temple as well if you wish."

"We thank you for your offer Old One. Perhaps we might just take you up on it. What of the visitors themselves Old One? Have they been gone to the ruins only these recent days past? Are they to be expected back anytime soon?"

Drake studies the old man carefully. He seems very friendly and obliging. A tad too friendly to outsiders in these dark times where strangers usually herald ill tidings and no good motives. Too friendly and embracing in a village located right in the middle of an enchanted Fey inhabited forest. And very much too obliging to be so willing to bring strange foreigners with dubious intentions to places where his ancestors had lived and worshipped. Places that by all reasonable expectation would be considered sacred to him and his fellow villagers. And throw into this already strange mix an offer as a guide without payment of any kind? These villagers must be well provided for and not lack anything indeed...

Which reminds him of yet another who had been rather too obliging thus far, one close by. Drakes casts a furtive glance at Tehatima...

He glances around at the other persons in the Moot Hall, taking note of those who appear to be locals, and those who appear not to be. He observes their dispositions and interactions.

OOC - Does Drake notice anything interesting in the Moot Hall? Whether among the persons there, or the furnishing and layout of the place?

It is somewhat a surprise to him that in such a place as this, this past hour since entering the village, Drake had not seen any villager bearing arms or displaying a readiness to defend themselves from bandits, robbers or strangers bearing ill-will towards them. Perhaps these people possess defensive capabilities yet unseen...
This message was last edited by the player at 03:37, Wed 28 Dec 2016.

Drake takes a generous bite out of a large piece of roasted venison haunch. Munching heartily, he wipes his mouth on his sleeve before taking another generous bite.

"This is delicious!"

"I take it that your people did not hunt this beast in the forest around you? Or do the Fey Folk willingly share the bounties of this forest with you?"

As Drake glances about he notes that many of the villagers are discussing their crafts and projects with animated faces and much laughter and good cheer.

" The visitors? They have been here only two nights, they slept the first here before venturing out then returned with the news of their fallen comrade then headed out again this morn."

" Share? No....but often we will find our quarry upon the road or upon the village green...I suspect they may well be a gift of sorts..."

Looking up Drake sees a great object of wood set into the rafters of the hall, though he cannot determine its purpose...

"Mayhap we will meet them before this day is through. Hopefully without another corpse to mourn and bury..."


OOC - What sort of projects are they discussing? Home improvements? Irrigation or farming works? Mining ventures?

Drake looks around the Moot Hall smiling. He turns back to the Elder with a friendly grin.

"You are a generous man Old One. And your people seem a peaceable and cheery bunch with nary a care in the world. It seems Mimir's blessings on you have been abundant and that you lack nothing. And over your lives and property he has kept watched, keeping you safe."

"Do not troublemakers sometimes chance upon your village threatening lives and property? How do you deal with such as these when they appear?"


Carefully, without drawing attention to himself, Drake looks closely at the object of wood in the rafters.

OOC - Any features, shape, handles, holes, depressions, lids, cracks, paints, smears, marks, scratches he can discern?

Still watching and waiting...

Drakes observations bear some fruit.

The villagers appear to be discussing their crafts, a smith speaks with a weaver, a woodcarver speaks with a basket weaver. He notes their wares around the hall and is impressed with the quality of the work...it is of far greater skill and higher quality than he has seen before.

Indeed some of the conversations he has trouble following as they get into the minutiae of their respective endeavours.

The old man frowned, " We do have troubles, yes...and it saddens us when they occur both for the difficulties brought upon ourselves and those the troublemakers bring upon themselves."

" I have spoken of the Good Folk and the watch they take over us.......they also punish those who bring harm to the village. A theft will be nothing more than perhaps a disturbed wasp nest on the journey home...or a tumble into the brambles when there was no stone to stumble a man.", he chuckled lightly.

" But violence visited upon us....they repay in double measure. Visitors, young Reaver men, have taken women by force in the past...the men vanished and parts of their tortured bodies were left along the roadway for their companions to find...it does not happen often but the memories of mortals are short."

The object in the rafters draws Drakes attention and the old man seems to notice, " It is a harp....when we open the shutters in the roof the wind blows through and plucks the strings within the sounding box."

Tehtima appears to be taking no notice of the people in the room, rather he seems to be intently studying the spaces between them and the dimensions of the hall itself...if he notices Drakes attention he gives no sign.

Drake shivers at the tale. He shakes his head, his expression somber.

"Mighty terrible retribution there..."

"Ain't no way for a man to die no matter what he's done... ain't no way..."

He lifts his mug and gulps down the last of the ale.


"Ya have an alchemist amongst you, Old One? One whom you bring your young un's to when the fever don't go down..."


Drake's eyes widen in curiosity.

"A harp for the wind to play! How splendid! What d'ya use it for?


Discreetly, Drake gives Tehatima a quick glance, eyebrows slightly raised, a questioning look in his eyes...

The Elder shrugged, " If the punishment is known, then a man would be a fool not to think it will be carried out. But all men are fools...."

" I have some small skill with herbs as does Aibhilin, our brewer, and Neala, who tends the garden."

" Use it for? For the sound of the wind, to lift our hearts and better our moods. What use has a poem or song but to rouse ones emotions?"

Tehatima regarded Drakes query with a rather bored expression  and a slight shrug.  Lute was playing rings with some of the children near the hearth fire.