In reply to Toirneach Lann (msg # 47):

"I'm sure he won't be long.  I think we ate the same thing!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:19, Sat 11 May 2019.

Caith asks no questions at first, already having an answer to one old mystery today, and waits patiently for explanations, if any.

She asks the Hearthwarden "Ye do rites for the dead? Yon lad's bones need a proper burial." after some time spent out by the hawthorn hedge digging a shallow grave for the set of boy's bones found in the caverns.

The fact that her hair, now dry, seems to have become a flaming red in hue is hardly a matter of comment amid so many sudden comings and goings on.

Usopi Marched out of the cave with his companions, noting with approval as Caith carried the remains of a child from that desolate place. While he doubted the child had been a practitioner of the True Faith, he felt it better that an innocent receive some last rites than none at all.

As they exited the cave and the shadows/dim light of the lanterns and magic, Usopi also noticed that the woman's hair had changed color, from black to a bright and furious red.

"Caith, your hair has changed it's color! Could some magic of the cave touched you somehow? Or perhaps the waters of that cavern had some strange effect on the coloration?" he said as they headed back to Salthold.



Once returned to Salthold, Usopi smiled warmly at the realization that Dann had left. The man had been a bold and sturdy warrior, and though he was often brusque, he was honest and straight forward. The big knight was sad to see their ways parted, but he knew that all men had motives and desires that they must sometimes tend to themselves.

"Perhaps one day we shall meet him again, and he can tell us the tale of his travels. I shall keep him in my prayers until then."

Brannon looks up as the group approach, and greets them warmly. "It is good to see you back." He tells them. "Dann has decided to head back to Glissom. He has demons of his own to fight, I think. Whatever he is looking for, he has decided it is not our here with us. Perhaps our paths will cross again. Now - what happened in the caves? Did you find your man in crystal?"

He listens carefully to what they tell him.



"I can perform rites for the dead... and have done more than I would care to. But yes, we can lay this lad's bones to rest." Brannon declares in answer to Caith's question. Once again, though, he studies her carefully, as if the starker red of her hair had put him in mind of someone...

Caith nods and replies "Aye, same colour I were born with..." in a pensive tone, then smiles as she adds in all truth "...But ye could fairly say it changing were down to something in the water."

Back at Salthold...

The hedgewitch answers "Aye, we did. Lann can tell ye of him, he saw him up close as well." then leaves it to Lann to report on the caverns and the man in crystal, trusting him to explain the practical difficulties involved in extracting him and the little iron coffer from their stone shell intact to Brannon.

She does however, when she returns from the hawthorn's edge, confirm that both crystal and the contents of the coffer within it are enchanted.



"Thank ye kindly for that, for I'm thankful there's only the one to bury..." Caith answers somberly, then explains "...And I'm nay fond of funerals and farewells myself, but I'm told 'tis the duty of the living to see these things done right for the dead, and there's no arguing with that."

The appraising look she gives the Hearthwarden in turn is less one of confusion and one more of resignation to a fate unavoidable as she bluntly, but quietly asks "Why do ye keep looking at me so oddly?"

Brannon is unfazed by this question - as if he had been hoping to force the issue. "Red hair. Aphail's vision saw two figures with red hair, fighting the darkness. I took them to be Artia and Brigantia. But..." He frowns. "This might put a different complexion on things. I'd be prepared to swear that we've never met, but you look familiar, and I think I've just realised how. I know of one other person with that shade of hair. You told us before that, like us, you were for Cernach. I'd go a step further: you are Cernach, are you not?"

OOC: I'm assuming this conversation is being held away from prying ears - it's not the sort of discussion Brannon is minded to have in front of witnesses beyond the party, given the risks involved!

Lann allows the two to converse, merely staying at one side listening and learning.

Caith shrugs, but replies carefully "I was born to Clan Cernach, but it has nay been wise in the past for me to speak of it openly, let alone walk about with a head of telltale flaming hair in Glissom."

She concludes ruefully "As it seems that everything from tiny fish to great goddesses know of it now? I can nay deny the truth to ye, Hearthwarden Darrow..." then looks to Alphail as she adds in an apologetic tone "...Or ye, Hunter MacRoach."

OOC: The PCs are at a ruined farmhouse out in the sticks. I trust that's discreet enough for Brannon, or would he prefer this be out by the grave? I can edit my post as need be.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:18, Mon 13 May 2019.

The boy was laid to rest but with Dann departed his name remained unknown to the rest of the group. Brannon gave him a soldiers epitaph for surely his last moments were full of terror and pain.

Caiths heritage now known and the crystalline prisoner a problem for another day...perhaps once more mystical power could be brought to bear the companions settled in for a nights sleep within the close confines of the ramshackle farmhouse.

Watches were stood but nothing passed on the road and nothing larger than a fox was seen.

The sun rose and a new day dawned....

Usopi prepared the ox cart once again for travel south, feeding the animals before gathering up his belongings and donning his armor. He waited patiently for the others to be ready to go, breathing deeply of the morning sea air.

In reply to Usopi Venia (msg # 57):


Chlainn wakes up late, having helped himself to more fermented apples, you think you can smell a hit of cider and other odours when you stand downwind from him.  After readying his horse, he clambers clumsily onto his saddle.

"So...  where to?"

Brannon shrugs. "True enough. Glissom is not a friendly place at the moment, for any of our cause."

He lets the conversation drop, though he is lost in thought, as if making calculations.

OOC: That's fine - as long as there no one outside the party present, Brannon's happy to be open in his discussions.



"As I recall, we were on the trail of Finan McRoach and his band..."

In reply to Brannon Darrow (msg # 59):

"But I thought this was his band?  Are we chasing our own tracks?!?!  What was that about mercenaries?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:25, Wed 15 May 2019.

Caith replies quietly "I appreciate ye understanding the difficulty of sharing a secret that has been long been kept close, and for good reason. My parents being nay alive to speak for me being one of them." then says no more on that matter for the while herself.

She seems happy enough that the lad is buried as befits one who died in battle, and offers the fairly spoken observation of "Should be enough to see the lad lie peaceful now, even as a nameless warrior."

The hedgewitch takes middle watch, and greets both the rising moon and the red fox in a more cheerful mood.

Lann will cast oracle before dusk. He will ask these questions

1. Are there mercenaries roving around these areas within 20km radius.
2. Are there magical items to loot within 20km
3. Can terminate Enchantment free the man in the crystal that he found in the cave.

Brannon claps a hand to his head, and gives a frustrated laugh. "Ach! All these names are catching up with me. Alas, we cannot give up just yet. It is Fionn Hullion and his band that we're after..."

In reply to Brannon Darrow (msg # 63):

"Glad to hear that.  If we had to track our own trail, our journey would never finish!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:25, Wed 15 May 2019.

The ancestors answers come to Lann in his dreams; Indeed there are men who fight for payment within that radius.  There are items of sorcerous power within that distance. No, he gets the sense it is not powerful enough.

In reply to GM (msg # 65):

The cart packed and the ox hitched...though good pasturage was scarce here and the beast was reluctant to stop browsing as it was hitched.

The body was beginning to smell a little but the strange state of it seemed to have arrested most of the normal decomposition processes.

The band assembled about the cart, and readied to move back to the coast road and south from there...

In reply to GM (msg # 65):

After that, Lann casts another time t ask 3 more questions

1. Are the magical treasure with the mercernairs?
2. Are they to the East of them?
3. Are they to the West of them?

While breakfasting Lann again attempted to commune with the ancestors....the first question was seemingly ignored...or perhaps the spirits were unsure..nut an eventual answer of no came through...the other two were definitive No's.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:12, Wed 15 May 2019.

Caith looks pensive, but can only offer "If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd been packed in salt to dry out like a slaughtered beast in Winter." by way of explanation for the state of Garm's corpse, followed by "Either way, he'll be no use to finding his kin or former comrades not too far down the track. Don't find them soon, better off burying him as well."

She gathers with the rest at the cart in the morning, and looks to the south as she wonders where the men they seek are to be found.

In reply to Caith Cernach (msg # 69):

The oxen slowly moved the cart back round to the coast road with Usopi walking beside and Chlainn riding rear escort.  The others either walked beside or took point with both Aphail and Gat ranging ahead.

After a few hours travelling south they began to pass through some small flocks of sheep on the roadside being watched over by young boys, as they crested a rise they saw down the coast a small collection of buildings around a coastal hill atop of which stood a squre manorhouse surrounded by an earthwork ditch and mound.

Lann suggest approaching the manor house carefully as the lord may be an enemy.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:06, Thu 16 May 2019.

A man in a rough-spun tunic called out to them from a field where there seemed to be a scant crop of vegetables being grown.

" Good morning to ye.  Welcome to Hallowhall, down from Glissom?"