To Beathan and Lanns enquiries Gond pipes up, " Library? Nay...though there might be one in castle..."

" Herbs your going to want to go see Bathel, straight out the door and out to the edge of town...big grey dog will tell you your in the right spot. She's up late most nights...though she's got a temper; might be telling strapping lads such as yourself to go gather your own.", he chuckled.

[Private to Deise: Deise suspects there is 'something' about Cene/Strawberry but has never actually seen him do anything openly 'sorcerous'.]

Eldron chuckled, " Well, that is a lot of questions. Let me see..."

" The former king? He was never a King, he was Duke Darian...you need to blessing of Ereworn herself to be King and that snake never had it."

" Darian arrived on the throne by chance, near as I can tell...but thinking more on it now only because those who may have had greater claim fell to accident and mischance...."

" But once there he made sure there were few who could take it from him. They were bad times, many of us lost people.  There is still suffering."

" Crystal? Aye, there was a crystal cloven and reunited its an old story....could be...could be...."

" Ah! Wodewose....another old tale....aye, Duke Darian enforced the law with black clad warriors upon horseback the locals took to calling them Black Riders. We knew not who they were but they were merciless, some foreign mercenaries it was suspected.  It was only when Darian fell that word filtered back that these Riders were not human at all. As spectacular as that sounds....some have said they resembled the old tales of Wodewose in shape and look, but they were brutal killers rather than the shy and afeared creatures told of in tales."


" Corbins family home was burned and his kin slaughtered when they refused to tax their holders as harshly as Darian wished...he did not need much convincing to kill the old wretch....though it took a little convincing for him to name himself king I heard."

" Corbin....he did not do it alone....many accompanied him....and many of them perished, only three remain alive that I know of. The Black Boar of the Woods; Diarmuid....to think we used to throw rocks at him once to scare him away from the fields, Cene or Stawberry; wise beyond his years, rescued from Darians dungeons to revenge himself and Garth, our local hero! He used to be a wood-cutter here and has married Gonds daughter....actually I guess you could say the whole thing started here in Ereworn Town when Gonds daughter was spirited away."

Aphail looked aghast!  Then suddenly burst into laughter, "Not today old man."

Lann thanks the man for his information and proceeds to find the wise woman. He will ask Brannon for the magic items found to see if the woman could identify them and will bring them along if allowed.

He will ask Brannon inconspicuously so that the townsfolk will not know they have loot.

Usopi sat listening intently to the answers from Eldron, adding them to his knowledge of the world he’d found himself in since leaving for Glissom.

He smiled broadly at the end and looked to Gond, ”We met Clothilda and Garth recently in Hallowhall, a lovely pair. They seem to make a fine Lord and Lady, and I am certain their impending child will do the same.”

Usopi turned back to Eldron, ”We also met some of the black riders a while back. We bested them and their leader, a priest of Rimfax, but it is heartening to know that those seen before Darian’s rule were not so blood thirsty. Many thanks for your answers my friend.”

Caith's expression is one of bewilderment as she utters "What, both of them?!" in shock, then embarrassment at the misunderstanding, and her face retreats into a serene mask as she politely replies "That's nay why we're here today, but thank ye for the offer."

She give Uthen an apologetic glance and says "Nay offense, Ser Uthen." and follows the wild old man inside.

The old priest waved the two of them inside, leaving the door propped open for Sir Uthen to enter.

Within was a small plain unadorned room with six benches and a makeshift lectern.

He ushered Aphail and Caith over to a bench, " So....why are you here this evening then?"

Caith looks about the room, devoid of decoration, image or even a sign of being a hall of a god as she knows them, and wonders at the fortune of a god with no face to show as she sits down on the offered bench.

She gathers her courage, mindful that she set her own foot on this path by a rash action in dangerous circumstances and says carefully "I am Herbwife Caith, and the cheerful fella with me is Hunter Alphail."

She looks to the knight, gestures towards him with her unbandaged left hand and adds "We have been traveling with Ser Uthen and others of his faith of late, and most fortunately for us, as it turns out."

The hedgewitch clasps her hands in her lap and does her best to hide her nervousness as she explains her predicament "I did nay catch your name sir, but I am glad to meet ye. I am curious about such matters, and wish to better ken what manner of god lives in a granary, yet hangs a fish above the door. I presume ye to be a priest of them though, and I may owe them a favor. I'm nay sure how to repay the debt proper like."

_{EDITED by player to correct continuity error.}
This message was last edited by the player at 05:11, Sun 06 Oct 2019.

Uthen is obviously a bit flustered at the sudden mention of marriage.

"No offence taken by any. Although if there was a large dowry involved..."

He carefully wipes his boots before entering the building and does so bowing his head as he enters.

He joins the others on a bench and listens respectfully. When he sees an opportunity to interject he says, "I came outside for some air and seeking a peaceful place after some recent trying times." He looks around. "This place would seem to fit whatever faith it matches."

Gond smiled broadly back at Usopi, " Grandfather Gond..."

Eldron frowned when Usopi mentioned the dark priest, " There was another within the castle or so Garth said, when they took down Darian."

Brannon gave Lann a long measured look then nodded and got the bundle out of his belongings.

" I'm not sure your going to find anyone here with the ability to do so here."

Beathan and Lann headed out the door following Gonds directions.

As they approached the edge of town, they cam to a small ramshackle hut covered in ivy. As they drew level a huge mastiff padded out of the shadows growling deep and low in its throat.

The door to the cottage was flung open as an old woman with a mane of gray hair and a long hooked nose over double chins stormed out.

" Whose there?"

The old man nodded with a perplexed expression, " I am Father Kilroy. Well...this is the Lords house....but he doesn't live here as such...he is everywhere."

" Gatanades was a fisher of the sea before he became a fisher of men...it is why my sect uses this symbol to denote his fathers house."

" We all owe the Lord a debt, for his sacrifice in our stead."



Father Kilroy turned towards Sir Uthen, " Can I be of any assistance, my son."

"Hail lady! I am Lann and Gond directed us to you. I believe you are the wisewoman of the town? I would like to find out some information from you if you are kind enough to help as well as to buy some healing balms or herbs from you," Lann says respectfully. He looks at the dog and smiles at it. Having been around Gat for awhile, he has learnt to get along well with dogs.

Caith nods in understanding, and resists replying with the usual bitter retort that rises unbidden on her tongue at the words 'large dowry'.

Her boots are already wiped, a lesson learned long ago from cleaning far too many floors.



Caith asks Father Kilroy in a pensive tone "So this is his house then, but ye live in it as his priest, as he's everywhere else? Is he a god of outside the house then, like rune trees?"



Caith looks less surprised by this point but queries "And the granary is a matter of convenience, or chosen for his house purposefully, Father Kilroy?"



She sigh in relief, then explains "That's a weight off my mind then, if it's universally owed debt, nay a personal one. If they save folk from harm, then they'll understand why I asked the son to aid one of his followers, on their behalf like."

The hedgewitch falls silent in thought, leaving Sir Uthen his gap in conversation...

As the others head out to explore the village, Deise sits back at the bar enjoying the ale and chatting with Brannon and the men. It has been a long while since he sat and enjoyed the simple things in life, a good drink in a nice tavern, company and conversation of others, companionship. Most importantly he felt content, thats what it must be, at doing a simple job not for reward but because it felt like the right thing to do.
Since first arriving in Ceann Caorach something has changed in the assassin.

As he sits drinking and listening to others the feeling of contentedness disipates, giving away to shame at who he is and a deep undying anger at how the last half of his life has played out.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:02, Sun 06 Oct 2019.

"Well enough. I'll come along." Brannon nods, and brings his pack.

OOC: Seems safer than trying to transfer then in the inn without being noticed.

The old woman took in Beathan and Lann and Brannon a little way behind and called the dog to her side.

" Evening...Lann,  well not so many call me wise as should, not sure what information a strapping young brute wants out of an old herbal but thats as maybe I'm already up and about now aren't I?"

She waddled up to Beathan and poked him in the chest, " Yer, a biggun."


" Herbs I have."

" For aching in the skull bind a stalk of crosswort to the head with a red kerchief. Chilblains can be cured with a mix of eggs, wine, and fennel root."

" Not sure if men your age would need it but agrimony when boiled in milk, can excite a man who is insufficiently virile."

" Shingles? I have a potion using the bark of 15 trees: aspen, apple, maple, elder, willow, sallow, myrtle, wych elm, oak, blackthorn, birch, olive, dogwood, ash, and quickbeam which will clear that right up...give or take a week."

" Travelling? Aching feet need leaves of elder, waybroad and mugwort to be pounded together, applied to the feet, then the feet bound."

The older men go back to their game leaving Deise and Usopi to ruminate on their own thoughts.

Beathan offers a friendly smile at the comment about his size, "Bathal, I'm a healer and chirurgeon. And our travels...", indicating Lann, ".. I have depleted my supply of healing herbs and would look to replenish them before continuing. I can offer trade in-kind or coin as you choose."

“Agrimony stops bleeding of all sorts . . . It helps relieve pain too, and has a long tradition as a wound herb as well as for treating liver, digestive and urinary tract problems.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:35, Mon 07 Oct 2019.

Caith notes the troubled mood of the knight, quietly stands up, places a gold coin on the bench and whispers to Alphail "Best we get back to the others soon, aye?"

"Thank ye for the discussion." Caith says politely to Father Kilroy, and turns to the door, stopping only to add an earnest "Fare well, Ser Uthen." from the doorway.

Once outside, she says quietly "I need a moment to nay think..." to Alphail then makes a beeline for the nearest tree, and sits under it for a little while to settle the uneasy sensation of far too many conflicting thoughts and but one small mind to hold them all in.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Mon 07 Oct 2019.

Usopi sipped on his ale and considered the tales told in the pub, coupled with what he had seen and heard since setting out. He was a long way from his days as a squire, and further still from his child hood, but Corbin’s story was evidence that perhaps there was much farther still to go before his journey was ended. Contentedly he watched the older men play their game. He wished to see the local priest, but better to wait for morning. Perhaps there would be a service on before they all set out for the castle.

Until then he would drink, sup, and attend to the backpacks full of recovered gold. Surely the old men would not take what was destined for their king, but one could never tell who else was out in the night with less developed moralities.

"And I'm Lann. The man behind is our priest and Hearthwarden to some godess. I'm looking to buy some healing balms or something that can bind wounds if you have," Lann says. "Of course, I'm willing to pay for these precious suppplies."

Brannon sighs at Lann's description, and adds: "My Goddess would be Brigantia, Mother of the Hearth Fire. She is, to the best of my knowledge, the only Goddess with Hearthwardens."