It is just after dusk that you are all fetched by liveried servants and taken to the northern hall.

A long table has been placed here and dressed with plates of food and wildflowers.

The table is lined with simple stools and a slightly sturdier stool sits at one end, beside it King Corbin is deep in conversation with his two close associates, Cene and Diarmuid.

As you enter he indicates for you all to take a seat.

" Please, sit and take your leisure."

" I know...some of you are eager to here this...well, there is no other way to say.  I hope that my words do not lessen your love for Ereworn and its people."

" Of the gold recovered by your brave actions we will putting the equivalent of 1000 silver aside to see to the ongoing rebuilding, expansion and restocking of each current holding within the Grey Hills."

" Of the remainder, the equivalent of 1000 silver will be gifted to each of those who braved the Grey Hills, both those of Glissom and those of Ereworn."

" The remainder, what there may be....will be absorbed by the coffers of Ereworn and used to assist her people in their continued recovery from the dark times behind us."

" So say I, Corbin of Ereworn."

" Now, please, my friends. Eat, drink, be well.  If you wish to speak with myself or Cene or Diarmuid you are welcome to do so."

" At the close of the feast I will have requests of you all..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:49, Thu 24 Oct 2019.

In reply to GM (msg # 1):

Deise having spent the day cleansing both mind and body takes a place close to but not presumptious enough to sit next to the King and his party.
"My Lord, your generosity is most kind. This gesture will, I have no doubt be repaid by your people's goodwill and taxes. Thank you" 

OOC: Deise will be genuinely humbled by the 1000 coins as this is more money than he has ever had at one time.

In reply to Deise (msg # 2):

Beathan spent the afternoon cleaning up after the road, having a set of fine clothes fitted, a little repositioning from the stores, and catching up with his family.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for all of this. I hope we may continue to serve you and the land."

Beathan joins the others in the great hall.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:31, Fri 25 Oct 2019.

Sir Turren arrives clean shaven and fresh faced in polished boots and immaculate white and green garments. He seats himself as directed, giving right of way with a smile to any who might also be seating themselves on either hand. Though conventionally unarmoured he is wearing both his sword and dagger at his belt, a simple wooden cross at his neck.

Brannon has done his best to tidy himself up, though he has no alternative to his travel worn clothes. The ink and earthstains are ingrained into his hands, too. This does not appear to distress him, though - he seems at ease in courtly surroundings, regardless of his appearance.

Nevertheless, he seats himself at the far end of the table from the King. The lowliest position in Glissom - he does not known if the same customs hold in Ereworn. A vague look of disappointment crosses his face as he realises that Corbin is to speak of loot, and not their battles with Rimfax, but he nods with a grave satisfaction at the King's decision, clearly impressed by the balance of generosity and wisdom.

Uthen has cleaned himself up.

He will take a position at the table fairly close to the King - he's reasonably used to 'high society'.

As he eats he ponders the fact that he has more money than he's ever had in his life... but it's probably not enough to return home with. It might pay for one sister's dowry but the females in his family have high expectations...

Once again it occurs to him how ridiculous this custom sees - but then again, he wouldn't take one of his sisters without being paid. Then again, he knows them...

Lann waits to be assigned to his seat, having been unused to such a grand feast. He is more used to the clan setting in terms of dining. Nevertheles, he does his best to blend in with the crowd.

Hearing the King rewarding the group, he rises and thanks the king for his grace,"I thank thee for your graciousnes your majesty! May your land prosper continually under your eminent rule!"

Usopi entered and sat at an open spot at the table. He had bathed, washed his clothes, and now his head and chin were shaved clean. He looked much as he had when his journey had first begun.

Examining the feast, Usopi thought that Ereworn was clearly doing well for itself despite the troubles. As Corbin mentioned the 1000 florins for the people of the Gray Hills, Usopi smiled broadly, glad to know the shepherds would be compensated for their troubles by their king.

Then the King mentioned their personal shares and Usopi chuckled lightly. "Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the first fruits of all your produce; then your barns will be filled with plenty, and your vats will be bursting with wine." He said quietly to himself.

Even at the end the King spoke of using the funds for the people, and when the speech was finished Usopi lightly clapped his hands together.

Speech finished and food offered, Usopi dug in, piling a plate high with food. In truth the food he and his companions ate on the road was not so scarce or flavorless that he was looking particularly forward to the meal. However, Usopi's early days adventuring had taught him to take food when it is offered, lest he miss it later.

When Leofwyn arrives, she scans the room for faces that she recognizes to potentially sit next to, smiling at anyone she makes eye contact with.

She ends up settling herself equal distances from Sir Turren and Hearthwarden Brannon.

Aphail would rather face more Shadows than go to an official feast with a king, but here he is.  He has washed and scrubbed up as best he can, begging or borrowing any clothes to replace the tattered rages he wears.  His only good clothes are his boots, with trews, shirt and westcote torn and stained.  He will sit with Caith, wherever she sits and remain quiet.

He is confused as to why the king is so apologetic about the loot?  Feudal law states that treasure recovered in his land is his by right.  The fact that he has given most of it away is remarkable!  A sign of generosity?  Insecurity? Eagerness to make friends and allies?  Either way it is welcome.  Aphail has little need of all this silver and will probably give most of it to his new master Colm, who he has never met?

Mammon is dressed in a rather revealing cerulean dress with gold trim and a beaver fur half coat.  Her long sable hair is tied in a long braid that hangs over her left shoulder, And Otto hung over her right shoulder.

She gave a small clatter of applause at the kings announcement, and then sat down beside Lann.

" So, you are rich now? Perhaps I should look into this business of yours...it seems to pay better than the study of law."

Barlow enters in green velvet and grins as he sees most have already arrived, he seats himself on the other side of Lann and lets out a rowdy, " Hear, Hear!", when the king finishes speaking.

" Indeed, Lady Mammon.  Perhaps it is the dead I should court more than the living. "

Drummond stood at the door watching each enter, standing at attention as the King spoke and then seating himself down near Sir Uthen and Sir Usopi.

As food was consumed and drinks refreshed by some of the servants Diarmuid rose from his seat, nodded to the King and moved to stand near where Brannon and others were seated.

King Corbin and Cene began a muttered conversation amongst themselves...

'Good evening m'lady,' Sir Turren rises till Leofwyn is seated, settles himself back. 'I'm wagering there's nothing here tonight half as perfect as that peach. I thank you.'

Caith arrives with Alphail, clad in a long red woolen tunic with black embroidered bands at wrist and throat, patiently scrubbed reddish brown trousers, and a pair of fresh polished but worn black kneeboots. A twisted braid of flowering sage and scarlet primrose crowns the long ponytail of red hair down her back.

The wolfskin robe, smelling of assorted sweet herbs hangs over her arm, a protection against the chill of evening rather than cold iron's kiss, and becomes a cushion over the stool she sits on.

No ornament can entirely detract from the scar tissue running from temple, down the side of her face and throat, but her smile is content, and she greets Lady Leofwyn with a cheerful "Well met to ye, Lady Leofywn." as she introduces Hunter Alphail to her, and sits near Hearthwarden Brannon.

Her response to the King's fair judgement is a grateful "Fair, and wise. Thank ye, and may your people continue to prosper under your rule." to  Corbin.

Usopi nodded a greeting as Drummond sat nearby, then he turned to look at Barlow with a grin, ”It is true, dealing with the dead has been profitable for us, though if you can make money while dealing only with the living I would suggest that path. I imagine it holds fewer underground crypts and shadow creatures.”

The large knight took a bite of meat and chewed gently, listening to the table conversation.

Lann stands up and bows to the newcomer. He extends his hand and raises hers to his lips. "Lann at your service milady. Rich I wont think so but certainly richer than when I first came to dinner. It will be good to find more wealth so that we can live in comfort," he says in as much a gentle tone as he can muster while keeping his eyes of the bosom of the seer.

"What business of law do you learn," he continues trying to distract himself from the charms of the lady.

Mammon raised an eyebrow, " So that we can live in comfort...."

" Oh!  Customary Law mostly, though I have aquainted myself with Royal Law and Church Law recently...."

She raised her chalice, and Otto took a couple of laps from the top of it, " To comfort!"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:17, Sat 26 Oct 2019.

Barlow was demolishing a wedge of cheese, " Aye, and more bedchambers and back alleys....and the living tend to be a bit prettier and smell better."

" Cheese?", he held a small piece between his fingers towards Usopis mouth.

Drummond fixed Sir Turren with a look, then grinned to himself, " Nothing like a perfect peach....".

He headed over to the table to refill his goblet.

In reply to Mammon o' Greybridge (msg # 19):

Lann raises his goblet and tosses his new friend before continuing , "I consider myself an aristocrat where I come from and tend to use the plural first person pronoun at times, I'm afraid. I'm certain you must b good at what you do to afford such finery. Perhaps we could form some study group. I am a bit more interest in ancient lore but I believe I better learn some royal law to stay in good health here."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:06, Sat 26 Oct 2019.

Desie eats his fill, which is not much. Noticing that The Boar has moved toward the end of the table he takes his mug and raises it at the big man, acknowledging him. Looking across the room be is aware that Lann is holding court with the woman named Mammon, with the man dressed in green close by, Usopi is in conversation with another man.
He spies out the lady dessed in green with an accent from home before slowly and deliberately moving toward her.

"I understand from your speech that you might be Cornumbrian? How is the land I once called home? Forgive me, I am Deise, you must have arrived after I left.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:15, Sat 26 Oct 2019.

Mammon looked him up and down again, " Nobility? Really? Are you certain?"

" Glissom must be quite a wild place compared to Albion I suppose."

" A study group? And what body of law would you like to acquaint yourself with particularly?"

" Yes...there is something of lore about you....don't you agree Otto?", she scratched under the cats jaw and it burbled a series of mewling sounds then gently bit her earlobe.

" Now, now. No need for jealousy, My Love."

"Well my mother is clan shaman so that makes me sort of an aristocrat in my little tribe but I guess we do things differently. Haha kinda make makes right sorta environment. Still I guess a bit of knowledge of law of these parts will be useful to survive here I supposed? How long have you been in court?" Lann asks.

Looking at the cat, he could not help but notice it is a pretty cat. "And you do have a pretty feline companion," he says, trying to make the cat feel better.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:48, Sat 26 Oct 2019.

" Shaman? I do not know this title.  But there is something about you that is different to most fighting men.  And its not just all your pretty toys...."

Otto preened as Lann complimented it, for a moment Lann wondered if the animal understood his words.

" Well, Lore and Law.  I am happy to familiarise you with whichever parts you take most interest in."

"Sort of a counsellor, Clann magician and I guess Clann deputy when the King isn't around? I don't  discuss much politics with her only learning and sword play with her and her friend who taught me much of what I know. The rest I learnt from traveling around the region. I think you must be good at what you do and can probably look after yourself well! All pretty ladies need to! And I would like to learn how to behave before a king. Lest his majesty decides to chop my head off," Lann says with a laugh.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:37, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

Aphail eats and drinks in a measured and thoughtful way.  Ever watchful and alert.  His attention moves to Sir Uthen of Sadley, his new target.  When an opportune moment strikes, Aphail will take his leave from Caith and sits close to the knight.

"Sir Uthen, I feel that we have much in common and I would like to get to know you better.  You heraldic symbol of a beehive is most interesting.  As a follower of Artia, I believe in the natural order of things, the careful balance between man and nature.  Sometimes nature needs to be encouraged or protected from hostile intent, much like your ancestors building hives for wild bees.  In a fair exchange of labour, both prosper.  The bees have a safe place to live and the humans get some honey.  The same is true in the forests of Glissom.  When hunting, we kill only what we need to eat, only in moderation, and never in the mating season. I maintain a balance within my own forest.  I hope one day to run a Hunting Lodge in Glissom, where I might take a wife and have a family." his eyes flick at Caith before continuing.  "Do you have plans for the future Sir Uthen?"

Caith does her best to be polite, introducing Leofwyn to Alphail and Brannon, before she sits down, making a silent apology to the three wolves that died for her warcoat as she does so, for the disrespect of being used as a cushion. The lifelike glass eyes in the wolf's head hood now hanging down the back of her stool seem to glare sullenly at the room from ankle height.

OOC: Caith sits near Alphail, and Leofwyn, so that's down near the end of the table where Brannon is seated.

Up close, the black bands of embroidery on her tunic can be seen to not be entirely dark, as the threads of fine spun black wool form a repeating pattern over the scarlet cloth underneath, similar to a fern's growing fronds around her hands and neck.

She eats rapidly, but daintily as she can manage, wary of the different taste in cookery at first. Food is food, and it would be a shame to waste it, not to mention an insult to the cook.

Caith looks up as Deise approaches and lifts his mug to the man in boarskin, Dairmund, then chats to Leofwyn. Her slow look about the room sees no daggers in hand that aren't being used as eating utensils, so she whispers to Alphail "I will be back in a moment, so nay be thinking I've abandoned ye to the tender mercies of polite conversation."

She approaches the big man slowly, as one would any dangerous seeming beast, and quietly says "Ye seem to have something of the same taste in outer wear as I do, sir. If it would offend ye to speak of it, then I will nay ask again, and apologize for the offense in asking, but my curiosity wonders why ye wear a boar's skin in particular?"

Caith adds politely "We may nay be royal company, Dairmund, but I would be most happy if ye would sit with us a while regardless." then wryly admits "Easier on my aching neck with so many great big folk to talk with..."

_{EDIT: Typos fixed and additional text added for clarity.}
This message was last edited by the player at 00:06, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

Aphail is grateful that Caith introduces Leofwyn to him.  He certainly would not talk to such a young, beautiful, noble druidic person unsolicited!  When he has returned from talking with Sir Uthen, he will strike up with Leofwyn.

"Milady, I am Aphail-in-the-Hood.  I am a servant of Artia.  Artia is the Goddess of the Hunt.  She teaches us the power of the natural order of things.  I can see by your demeanour and behaviour that you too are a follower of nature."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:40, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

" A Clan? It sounds positively primal....and yet you have a King?  Ah, King Corbin is unlikely to have too many of our heads off I think."

" Clan Magician? And what does that entail....have you inherited some of her talents?"

" Well, of course a woman must sometimes look after herself, but it can be quite a bit of work and an extra pair of hands is always welcome."

Usopi chuckled at the man’s response, ”Indeed, the living are more appealing then the dead, though we did see a naked female giant that led an army of undead soldiers and summoned a bone golem. That was uncomfortable”

He raised a hand and took the offered cheese, popping it in to his mouth, ”Mmmh, good cheese.”

Usopi looked to Cene and saw him in conversation with the King. He decided his question could wait and turned back to the rest of the table.

" Surely you jest? A female giant...an army of the dead and a....whatever that other thing was..."

" You understand that most folk would think you mad to speak of such things with such familiarity."

" It is certainly an interesting life you have led so far.  Are you betrothed, Sir Usopi?"

" I guess she looks after the spiritual needs of the clan. Well she taught me some. I supposed you are also skilled in the way of controlling arcane forces? I am not surprised if you have the power to charm man and beast alike."

"So what brings a fair lady to these parts?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:14, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

" Arcane forces? Me? Whyever would you think such a thing?"

" Well....I am not without my ways....but I am somewhat confused by yourself. You carry blade and maille and seem a man-at-arms, yet you say she taught you her ways....it is most unusual..."

" Lack of work....and I heard that King Corbin was in need of someone learned to assist him."

"A woman who can charm me is certainly a magi,"'Lann grins before continuing,"Well I suppose I am a warrior then and sometimes a singer,. She taught me how to fight and simple movements. As clan shaman she does her fair share of fighting. So what are your specialties?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:18, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

Usopi chuckled at Barlow's disbelief, "I suppose that is true. Our adventures do seem like tall tales. Though in the hall of a castle ruling a land that, until recently was dominated by a dark god and his plague ridden servants, it should seem less so."

He took a drink of ale to wash down the cheese, "Hells, I likely would have thought myself a drunkard before I started my journey north. But so far I have learned that nothing is impossible. Just in my first encounter with the group I travel with, it ended with us fighting a group of armed and armored beast men larger then myself, led by a priest that controlled a flying plague beast. In fact, that's where I got my long sword. Which, fantastically in and of itself, cuts through stone like butter while also imbuing its user with an overpowering rage that makes one see friends as hostile combatants. A lesson we learned while fighting a horde of moor-fae when we were crossing the moors."

As he talked he smiled broader and leaned back in his seat, marveling in the absurdity of his journey. Then he looked down at his plate as he thought how to answer of his betrothal.

"No would be the most direct answer, though I have found myself thinking lately upon a bold Chieftain who expressed some interest in me when we passed through her clan's holdings." He paused a moment and then shrugged, glancing back up to Barlow and the table in general, "Though I seem intent on wandering a while longer, so perhaps there is little reason to ponder on such things. Gatanadese will lead me where he so desires."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:51, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

'And keep you in good health, sir,' Turren raises his cup to Usopi, having just caught the last of his words.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:47, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

"Good evening, Sir Turren!" She smiles and sits down. "That's very kind of you to say. I'm glad you liked it! Often while I travel, I live off the fruit that I grow from my staff, so I learned very quickly to perfect the peach!"



"Good evening to you, Herbwife Caith!" Leofwyn smiles and gestures that the place beside her is free.



"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Aphail-in-the-Hood."

"My name is Leofwyn, and indeed you are correct. Nature and all it holds has become more of a home to me than my actual home... Though you'll find me less of the 'huntress' than those who follow Goddess Artia."




As Leofwyn sees Deise coming, she rises from her chair to meet him.

"A pleasure, sir. My name is Leofwyn, and yes, you are correct." She gestures for Diese to sit with her in the now empty chair beside her.

"I grew up in the southernmost parts of Cornumbria, but have not been back for the better part of 10 years. No matter where I go and what I do, though, I can't seem to shake my accent." She smiles at Deise and adds,

"It seems that my accent has served me well this evening, though. It is nice to meet a fellow Cornumbrian. What brings you out here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:08, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

"Like yourself I am a traveller, leaving home 15 years back. I've not been back but would like to see the marshlands and coast again. Some day, maybe. I came here to serve a new King with a new broom to sweep away old dirt. Truth of it, I'm tired of working for old dirt. You, what  brings you North?
This message was last edited by the player at 13:20, Sun 27 Oct 2019.

"You are from Cornumbria, Leofwyn?  This is the furthest south I've ever been.  What is it like where you're from?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:41, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

Diarmuid regarded Caith in silence for a few moments and she felt a prickle go up the back of her spine as his eyes moved over her.

He reached forward toward her slowly and touched the scarred side of her face, a slight, and slightly disturbing, smile creasing his lips. He nodded and squatted down inclining his head forward so that Caith could see on the crown of his enormous head the distinct half-inch deep impression of a shire horses hoof....similar to the scar on Sir Turrens head but far deeper.

" Diarmuid was a happy, Darian attacked Diarmuids lord, Diarmuid fought the Riders, Diarmuid fell. Diarmuid came home to ruin,   The Boar woke and saved Diarmuid. The Boar lived in the woods, felt the heartbeat of the world, killed the other boar before it killed the boy...wore his skin for warmth...hunted and scavenged...the people were afraid of the Black Boar of the Woods."

" Diarmuid came back together slowly....but the Boar did not leave. Diarmuid came from the woods, the people were afraid....but Diarmuid made Darian afraid and ended him."

" You are from Glissom, I have been to Glissom. It is nice...only saw city though..."

" Who you serve in Glissom? Who you serve here? Speak truth, The Boar can scent lies."

" Contracts, Writs, Compacts...the usual rigmarole. Certainly not as exciting as battle or warfare."

Barlow grinned and swept up his glass, " To the Kings Health and The Health of all Ereworn".

"A few different things have brought me up North," says Leofwyn, thinking and phrasing her next sentence carefully. "I'm looking for something... I'm running from something... But I guess I'm just looking to help others more than either of those 'something's." She smiles and looks around the room at the other people eating and conversing. "It's nice to find so many like-minded people here."

In reply to Mammon o' Greybridge (msg # 43):

"Maybe we can go on some expeditions and fight some evil. It bears much risk but also rewards! For now let us eat before the food gets cold," Lann says.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:38, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

"Well, they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder... so right now I think it the most beautiful part of Ellesland." She pauses and smiles, "The trees, the coast... even the Marsh seems pretty to me now..."

"Though I remember a time when I could not wait to be far from it." Her eyes look down slightly, and her smiles falters a bit before she hastily asks,

"Where do you hail from, sir? This is the furthest I have been North!"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:01, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

Caith does not move, but she is avidly curious now, not fearful, and regards the impression in Dairmund's head with the detached expression of a healer presented with grave wound, yet a surprisingly healthy patient.

"Warhorse..." she murmurs, then looks to Dairmund, and listens in silence, as understanding slowly dawns on her.



Caith smiles, not a gentle one, but the wolfish grin that speaks of nature red in tooth and claw, and nods as she says softly "And that was more merciful a fate than he deserved."



"The countryside is beautiful, aye..." Caith replies warmly, then concludes more politely "As for the city? I am told it is a most civilized place."



Caith looks puzzled by the question as she replies calmly "Myself, my oaths, the Gods, great and small, and folk in need of help." then points towards Brannon and adds "Though of late, yon Hearthwarden, as traveling the land be a most dangerous business for those without comrades in the wilderness."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:46, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

Brannon nods, gravely at this. He regards Diarmuid with great interest. "Aye. Glissom is a dangerous place. Shadows are moving there. It has become hard to know who to trust. For myself, I serve Brigantia and do what I must against the tide of darkness. I fear that the corruption has reached the rulers of our city. It is hard when you can no longer trust your King. Less hard if I knew him corrupt: that would be  a practical difficulty, to be sure, but this uncertainty makes for a moral difficulty. I will disobey any order I believe to be evil: but who do you obey when you don't know who is clean and who in league with the evil? Lies and half truths abound - and no one knows who to believe. I cling to my Goddess, then, as the one I can be truly sure of in dark times. But it sounds like you have already faced great darkness, Diarmuid - and lived to tell the tale. I would hear more of your dealings with the old Duke and Rimfax. There may be lessons for us there..."

"Your story could be my life. I wonder how many of us travellers are running from something. Are we all convicts of the road, I wonder? Well here's to home and may we find peace there some time." Raising his glass to Leaf.

Out of the corner of his eye Deise spots The Boar engaging in what seems like heated conversation with The Hearthwarden and the witch. Eager to know more, but cautious not to intervene he leaves Leaf to pass the conversation on the way to speak to the Barlow and Drummond.
"Gents, I am Deise out of Cornumbria. Seem's as though good King Corbin is attracting a busier court than this old
place has seen for many a year. Pleased to make your aquiantence."
Offering a hand to each in turn.
M
This message was last edited by the player at 10:31, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

Diarmuids great head swung across to regard Brannon, his lip curled a little but he seemed satisfied after a few moments.

" Not for Diarmuid. I always know who to believe...it is why I follow Corbin."

" Rimfax is gone. Darian gone."

" I did not meet your King, he was in seclusion contemplating the sacred fire.  I met your Steward....him I do not trust."

" Corruption....power-lust.....stupidity....but the Boar is not a Man and it does not understand politics...."

" Perhaps these are common things among politicians...."

" What do you want from Corbin? Do not lie."

"My plans for the future... nothing firm comes to mind. I left home primarily to find out more about the world and myself and to earn some money - my father is a cripple, and supporting my family falls to me - we hold some small lands from our Lord, when we grow some crops and we keep bees as well - the original reason my father took that symbol. Balance? Yes, I think I agree with that - you take too much from land, you don't manage things carefully, in the long run you do much more harm than good. But, I suppose if I have any plans - it's to use what I've been taught, which honestly is mostly strengths of arms, to try and do good for others as well as for myself. I am a Knight - my calling is to serve in the way a Knight serves. Perhaps to find somebody who will accept me in their service in that role."

Brannon nods, thoughtfully. "Aye - it has always been so these last few years, and that's what troubles me. The King has not been seen, the Steward who claims to rule in his place is untrustworthy. Innocents have been slain, of that I am sure. But I have no proof - and must labour upon suspicion alone. It makes me uneasy."



"I fear that they are." Brannon sighs, rather whistfully. "For myself, I would sooner root through tomes or the ancient ruins of the Selentines and learn of history. But politics cannot be avoided. Unfortunately, wherever people meet the truth gets contested. As long as one man can line his pockets at another's expense."



Brannon mulls this over, and answers earnestly: "In truth, I wanted mostly to see him with my own eyes. We have had many troubles on the border, many fleeing into Glissom, with dark tales of the new King. Of course, they were all followers of the old Duke - hardly the sort to speak highly of those who overthrew him. The question in my mind was whether he had been overthrown by an equal or greater tyrant. From what we have heard and seen here, my fears were unfounded. But also... I want information, I suppose - anything about what is afoot in Glissom. And aid I suppose - if the King were unseated by a pretender. A mere war for the throne would be bloody, and unpleasant, but nothing new. But when worshippers of darkness and plague priests stalk the land, I feel it is no mere tussle between ambitious nobles that we face, but a battle for the whole of Glissom. Perhaps the whole of Ellesland..."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 08:46, Tue 29 Oct 2019.

"I was born in the Glen of Cernach, in the Gliss highlands of the Pagan Mountains.  I have spent all of my life as a hunter, mostly of game, but recently of men.  My beliefs of natural order and balance have been shaken by Dark Priests, Bestial Marauders, and Daemonic evil.  It is time for everyone to stand for what they believe in, by feats of arms and heroic deeds, to restore the land."

" Expeditions? Fight Evil? Rewards?", Mammon says almost to herself then continues eating.

Barlow swung about, dragging his eyes away from Usopi then blinking in surprise and looking down,

" Barlow Greencap at your service, Deise of Cornumbria.  And I yours!  This foul smelling curmudgeon is Drummond, he's likely to stab me at some point soon but I feel it a fair chance he won't do so before the King."

Diarmud made a contented rumbling sound in his chest and stood back to his full height turning to look at Cene and Corbin who stopped their conversation.

Cene grinned and moved quickly away from Corbin and began walking quickly towards the other end of the table.

Corbin stood up and rested a hand on the table then his voice rang out once more.

" HEAR ME, FRIENDS!"

" Please...continue to eat and drink your fill!  But I have a request to make that I hope will sit well with all of you."

" There is more to be said by some of you and words already spoken support the trusted words I heard last year."

" But first!"

" Hearthwarden Darrow! I will speak with you now."

Brannon inclines his head, respectfully. "Of course, your Highness."

OOC: not sure about the courtly forms here - Brannon's trying to be respectful, not sarcastic!
This message was last edited by the player at 06:36, Wed 30 Oct 2019.

Cenes mouth creased a little as Brannon used the wrong honorific but Corbin himself didn't seem to notice or, more likely, didn't care enough about courtly procedures to worry about it.

Corbin swept down the table and gathered an arm around Brannons shoulders and guided him over towards the windows, " Bring your drink!"

" Now!  Going off what my dear friends have told me I have an interest...and I feel responsible that your hillfolk have suffered as Ereworn has prospered.  Speak plainly, and then I will tell you my request."

In reply to Barlow Greencap (msg # 57):

"Well Barlow Greencap, Drummond dont smell half as bad I did this morning, but a day in a crypt with clay and old bones, I'll do that to a man, eh.Where you from lad? Are you running from something like the rest of us?

For a moment, Brannon's composure drops a fraction as he see's Cene's reaction and realises he is in error. The curses himself inwardly, but he knows better than to dwell on it. At the King's invitation he takes his cup and accompanies him.



"Thank you, Your Majesty." Brannon replies, correcting the honorific. "I have much to say, so please bear with me. I have said that all is not well in Glissom - and it is true. But the Waidwoes and the Duke's old followers crossing the border are not the greatest threat we face. The plague priests create problems... but I fear that our greatest enemy is already within Glissom. Not merely within the nation, but within the city - perhaps, even, at the very heart of our court. To the North, in the Mountains of Brack - we have found Priests of Darkness, and evidence of the worship of the dark god Balor. The mighty Clann Cernach was accused of worshipping that fiend, accused of treason against the crown, and destroyed - their lands and property given to other Clanns." He frowns. "Your companion claims he can scent the truth. All the better: he can testify, then, that what I am about to tell you is true. I will swear upon the undying love of my Goddess that what I am about to say is the truth." He grasps the holy symbol about his neck as he speaks these words - it clearly means a great deal to him - and continues to hold it as he speaks.

"I know for a fact that Clann Cernach were falsely accused. Aye, they were always one of the most stringent enemies of Balor and his minions. I know them well - I have travelled with them, fought with them, studied with them. If the rot had set in there, I would have known. Nor was the false accusation any accident - it was orchestrated. Nebulous and circumstantial evidence, at best, yet taken as enough grounds to wipe out an entire Clann. Men, women, children - all: even if there had been real evidence, the punishment meted out was beyond anything that might be considered justice."

Brannon's knuckles have whitened, as he grasps his holy symbol - he is clearly agitated at the thought of what has happened. "This was not justice! It was the surgical removal of a rival. At best, it was dirty politics, corrupt men lining their pockets at others' expense... but I fear that it was much more. The darkness in Glissom grows unchecked, and the Temple of Flame does nothing. The King secludes himself in his chambers, and only the Steward is seen. And the Steward does nothing! I cannot tell if it is he who is corrupt, or if he is merely ignorant and self serving, but I do not trust him."

He calms himself. "I told you that I had been sent to investigate the darkness on our borders... and so I have, but not by the Temple. I will tell you the truth, though it would land my head in a noose back in Glissom City. I dislike deception, but I no longer know who I can trust. Nevertheless, you seem honest: your people speak well of you, you have confronted darkness, you have shown justice in how you distribute the treasures we returned. I will trust you."

He draws a breath, then declares: "The wronged Clann Cernach yet live. They are few in number, true, but some survived the massacre of their peoples. Their Hearthfather Colm Cernach yet lives, and would see the Clann restored, and the darkness threatening Glissom driven back. I have fought with this man. I have studied with him: I have stood by him as we stared into the abyss of the Darkness Elementalists, and he has fought them at every turn. I know of no one more dedicated to the opposition of Balor. I have therefore declared myself for this wronged Clann.  It was Hearthfather Cernach who sent me out - to right the wrongs that the Steward and the King and the Temple will not. To serve our Goddess where others forget, or close their eyes. To draw allies against the Darkness of Balor. May the Red Fern Unfurl!"

He pauses, and looks at the King. "I know we ask much of you. To side with a slighted Clann, against a nebulous enemy. And I cannot say precisely what we will have to ask of you, because I do not know where this journey will take us: how much we will fight men and how much we will fight demons. But I fear that what is happening in Glissom will not stay tidily within its borders. Balor will doom the world, just as surely as Fengris. Indeed, I fear that Rimfax, that Fengris... that this is connected. I do not know the wills of the Gods, or their machinations. But your friend here claims to be able to scent the truth - then he must know that I speak true! I ask, on behalf of Clann Cernach - will you stand with us agains the Darkness? And aye, the Clann is loyal to her allies. I pledge that if you will aid us, and your cause be true, we will put everything at our disposal to aid you."

Brannon sighs. There - the cards are on the table. He has said enough to have himself returned to Glissom in chains to face the noose, or the headsman. Enough to jeapordise everything the Hearthfather has worked for - perhaps the whole future of Glissom. It is quite a gamble. Please, Hearthmother... let me not have misread these people...
This message was last edited by the player at 09:13, Wed 30 Oct 2019.

Caith looks ever so slightly relieved at Dairmund's apparently positive response to Brannon's explanation of a sinister set of facts, but little proof to be drawn from them.

She listens, silently intent on following the thread in this tangle of uneasy speculation that ties to the one she holds most responsible of crimes too numerous to list.

A grin of amused agreement at Dairmund's comment on politics and politicians crosses her face briefly before her expression falls back into quiet intensity.



The hedgewitch's gaze flicks to the Hearthwarden face for a moment, less in warning, and more in reassurance.



Caith looks bleak faced at the prospect, and would speak, but stays quiet as the King makes his own pronouncement.

She looks Brannon and says "Ye need me for the moment, Hearthwarden? Nay far away if ye do." then to Dairmund as she says quietly "There is something well beyond mere greed at work in Glissom, aye that much I am sure of." then shrugs as she adds in absolute certainty "I trust in the Hearthwarden's wisdom to track them to their lair."

"Ye still up for a drink?" she asks Dairmund, and offers "There is someone I would like ye to meet. A good man in the wild..."

Despite her amiable air, she watches the discussion by the windows in flickered glances, but holding her wariness in check.

Caith's ear prick up as a certain cadence in the discussion reaches them, and hopes she has been as wise in her trust as she has been in her silence.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:42, Wed 30 Oct 2019.

" Oh, here and there. Running to something perhaps? Always on the look for greener pastures."

" Its nice here...smells better than Clyster and Ongus."

In reply to Barlow Greencap (msg # 64):
"Spent some time in Ongus, never been to Clyster though. Anyway good it is to meet you. I suspect we will all be spending much time in each and others company. Theres a lot of work in this land for the likes of us"

Diarmuid looked at her carefully then nodded, he whistled loudly and Cene came over.

Diarmuid handed Cene a goblet of wine and lifted his own ale mug.

" Lead on, Herbwitch."

King Corbin looked at him carefully, " Ereworn has signed a number of trade agreements and understandings with the Steward."

" My good friend however knows that you believe what you believe is true."

" To this end I would like to attach to your band a fact finding group, so it cannot be said that Ereworn did not do her due diligence."

" I also have another.....condition?....request? I am sending a group to the source of the River Ereworn to seek out one of Darians secret research projects. I cannot risk another source of infection boiling up."

" I have a team. A killer, an expert in eldritch threats and someone with a very light touch.....but I need a bridge. Someone who is all three?"

Brannon breathes a sigh of relief. "I can ask for no more. And I emphasise that I can say nothing for sure about who is behind Glissom's woes - the Steward may yet be an innocent party. I welcome your proposal, and would give you this." He takes from his pocket one of the Cernach Necklaces Colm has given this. "A token of friendship from Clann Cernach. We seek only to right what is wrong, and ensure that those truly loyal to Durindar and Glissom are in power."



Brannon muses for a moment, then glances back briefly towards Lann. "A reasonable request, and I think we have the very man. Our bard, Lann, is a gifted warrior-mage, and light enough on his feet when the need arises. He has studied the arts of war and the arcane, and is curious enough to take an interest in such projects. "

Caith looks wary at the word, but notes the honorific tone the title is spoken in, and replies in similar tone "As ye command, Dairmund Boar-And-Hunter.", then adds "Pleased to meet with ye, Cene of Ereworn." as she casually plucks her own nearly full goblet of cider from where she left it sitting on the table by Alphail and Leofwyn.

She smiles as she introduces the hunter with a steadfast declaration of "This be Alphail, a hunter of great skill, and wise eyed in the wilderness."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:45, Thu 31 Oct 2019.

A shiver goes down Leaf's spine as she hears such blunt conversation of the evils in the land.



Leaf's eyes then twinkle, as she stands up straight. "Yes." She says with a smile. "Yes, that is exactly what I think. If a person has seen evil, or wickedness, or mistreatment - it is up to them to do something about it."

"I hope one day that I can visit your Glen Cernach."

She saw Caith coming back to make introductions, so she picked up her drink and made her way to talk to someone else.

Usopi paused in his eating and drinking, wiping his mouth. He sat back in his seat and gazed over the group members as they all moved about or changed the conversations they were attending to. To Usopi they seemed as buoys in the tides of Lakstead.

Then he noticed Leofwyn bobbing away from Caith, Aphail, Cene, and Diarmuid. He stood from his seat and inclined his brow to her.

"My Lady, I do not believe we have been formally introduced. My name is Usopi Venia, of Lakstead."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:11, Thu 31 Oct 2019.

"Sir Usopi, it is my pleasure," she smiled, bowing her head slightly, "my name is Leofwyn from the south of Cornumbria."

"I believe you were one of the party who arrived at the castle today? Do you know the others you travelled with well?"

Aphail stands as the Kings Advisors approach, and gives a small bow. "I am honoured to meet the Mighty Boar, and Strawberry the Wise.  We have been questing in the wilderness for too long, and this repsite is welcome indeed.  I am Aphail-o'the-hood, Champion of Artia, bearer of the Relic Quarrybolt, Destroyer of Demons, and originally of Clan Cernach."

Usopi pondered the question a moment before replying, "Three of them, Deise, Uthen, and Beathan I met only a short while ago. The others I have known for a time longer, and we have seen much together. They are mostly good folk, and I count them among my close friends." He answered, "And you, do you know the other courtiers here well?"

"I have had conversations with a few of them... but that is about it. I arrived at the castle only one week ago, after travelling on my own." She glances around the room at everyone, and then back to Usopi.

"I must say I am looking forward to travelling with others again. I do not really enjoy travelling on my own."

"And from what I can tell, everyone that I have met here seems..." She tilts her head to the side and thinks for a minute before purposefully saying "Good... and just." She smiles again and adds, "The kind of people that I want to be around."

King Corbin smiled widely, " Excellent! Excellent!  And know this Hearthwarden Darrow....", he said as he took the necklace. " ....if things go utterly tits up you and your Clansmen always have a home in Ereworn."

" So, introduce me to this Lann fellow, I believe we he spoke before but I'm a devil for faces."

Cene smiled slightly, " I am Cene known as Strawberry and this is Diarmuid known as The Black Boar. Also destroyers of demons, Champions of Elvaron, Bearer of the ancient Spear of Ereworn and originally of no-fixed-address."

Diarmuid gave a broad and deeply unsettling smile.

Cene looked back and forth between Caith and Aphail and then quickly pivoted to face Caith leaving Aphail to speak with Diarmuid.

" Now, Mistress Caith....do we have something in common?", he said quietly.

Aphail grinned like a naughty child, knowing he had been over familiar intentionally, to est their sense of humour.  Fortunately it was not lacking.  Aphail proceeds to talk to Dairmuid the Black Boar at length.  Aphail tells of Artia the Huntress, shows him the Quarrybolt, tells the tale of the Bone Demon, and asked Diarmuid of Moccus the Black Boar.  He hopes to gain a better understanding of the quiet man, and build a deeper friendship by sharing what they hold in common and what they hope for in the future.

Diarmuids answers to Aphail were somewhat perplexing...though he listened thoughtfully as Aphail spoke of Artia it was clear that his Boar was something different than the Bear that embodied Artia. He does not know the name Moccus but admits he has never asked if the Boar has a name...not that it has a voice to answer.

Diarmuids time in the wild was not that of a hunter but of a beast, sleeping beneath the stars in nothing but his skin, foraging in the forest and snatching produce from farms rather than hunting....Aphail feels a certain kinship but it is one he is not quite sure how to approach.

Diarmuid is both less than a man but also greater...it is a puzzle that will take some teasing out.

Caith nods with the expression of a woman memorizing a list for later, but the smile on her lips reaches to her green as a summer sea eyes, not just her twisted mouth.



Caith looks sideways at Dairmund at the last title on that list, and nods in understanding as things begin to become clear even as they become murkier.



"Something nay common, but in common? Aye, I suspect we do." Caith replies quietly, sips her cider, then continues "I am a herbwitch, as Dairmund names me. There are some cures that herbs alone can nay accomplish, but to speak of them makes folk uneasy. And with hair the colour of flames? It is nay wise to answer the title of witch too readily. Those who taught me my craft are gone, cut down by lies and greed..."

She gazes at Cene pensively a moment then shrugs and adds "But the red fern is nay a plant to be so easily cut down, even by the wolves of war. Lady Artia has nay denied me her gifts, what ere the law says of me, so a witch I remain, all be it one lacking in knowledge."

Brannon returns the broad smile. "That is good to know, Your Majesty."



"Certainly!" Brannon guides Corbin towards Lann, and makes the reintroduction.

”I too find traveling with companions to be preferable, though there is something to be said for the peace one can find walking through the world in quite solitude. A sunrise viewed in silence, or even a busy street observed apart from it, can sometimes be disturbed by folk traveling together.” The large shaven knight mused, glancing in to the middle distance at something unseen.

And then he frowned for a moment, considering his travels, and then smiling again, though this time with slightly less warmth, ”Largely I feel you perceive us correctly. Though all folk who make their living in combat are like to find ill deeds upon their conscience. Despite all that, my companions are good and righteous people, and a pleasure to accompany. If you depart with us when we leave, I am certain we would enjoy your presence.”

" Herbwitch....which would make me a Bookwitch I presume. In truth after facing Darian I have not called upon those forces very often, it is sobering to look into a darkling mirror and I would rather put temptation well away."

" But! Knowledge I can give....though I know little of highland flora or Bear Mothers."

King Corbin accompanied Brannon as he walked over to Lann and introduced the King to him.

Leofwyn thought about this for a moment before muttering, "That's very true. I guess that's what sets us apart from those with evil intentions; not much would weigh upon them."



"It would be my honour, if the opportunity arises." She smiled warmly, before adding. "Until that times comes, let's eat and enjoy the comforts of this place!"

Lann bows before the king and introduces himself. He compliments the king in the food offered.

Caith considers Cene's answers carefully, then offers in quietly spoken reply, her expression gravely serious as she speaks "I am nay fond of mirrors myself, but they have their uses beyond vanity. Remind me of who I am more than I like though."

She reflects a moment to herself on how best to explain the matter, then continues "I can nay deny that I ken little of arcane matters as a bookwitch such as yourself would, but I greatly value the healer's lore and the wilderness's secrets that has come with hedgecraft. Has served me well, and others besides, so if ye have need of herblore? That I can share a little of. The Gods are generous, and for that I am grateful."

The herbwitch looks deeply uneasy as she speaks but explains "Some gifts more difficult than others to understand, but one of mine is in kenning the wild spirits and fey folk. The lore of Artia is best taught by Alphail, but I am familiar her ways, and with the lore of many other gods to some degree. Nay with that of demon cults though."

King Corbin chuckled, " Well, thankyou, but I had very little to do with its preparation."

"  I come to you because I have a request, there is a place....not far from here, near the primary source of the River Ereworn. A vault of sorts, where Duke Darian conducted his more... volatile.... researches."

" Lady Mammon has spoken with me earlier today and seemed to imply that you had certain skills that would be of great use in this endeavour."

" There would be four of you; yourself, Lady Mammon, Barlow Greenleaf and Drummond. One to understand, one to assess and one to kill.....and yourself, who I am lead to believe possesses a little of each of those talents."

" Now Hearthfather Darrow has given his blessing but no oaths have been sworn here so you are free to not take up the cause."

" I will say that Ereworn has no interest in anything you find within....as long as it does not pose a future danger to the land or her people.  I doubt there is much in the way of coin there but Darian was a fell sorcerer and if it was a place of research or making I'm certain you would find riches of a sort."

" I need the place scoured out so no other cancer can boil up from there to plague Ereworn once more."

" Are you willing?"

" Perhaps a trade then? Some teaching of herblore in exchange for knowledge of more esoteric things?"

His voice dropped to a whisper, " I have a reasonable store of research which may allow me to assist you in identifying the history or nature of certain items...."

" I will admit I used a certain trick earlier today to determine that your companions carry a few legends worth of history upon your persons."

In reply to GM (msg # 88):

"Wow! That's an excellent idea, Your Majesty! It is always my fervent wish to find out more about evil and root them out! I thank thee for thy faith in me! Yes this is very interesting. Of course that being a very evil place may I ask if I may ask your sorcerer for advice on certain things before we depart?" Lann asks.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:47, Sat 02 Nov 2019.

" My what?", said the King sharply looking suddenly concerned then the tension fled his face and he chuckled, " Oh, you mean, Cene? Certainly, I'm sure he'd be happy to assist."

" You would be ready to depart on the morrow?"

"Yes, Cene, I mean. My apologies. Sure, tomorrow will be excellent! I am always ready to move in my line of work," Lann says brightly before continuing, " When may I speak to Master Cene?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:38, Sun 03 Nov 2019.

" Whenever you wish, he is currently in conversation with another member of your troupe but I'm sure they'll be finished shortly."

"Thank you your majesty for taking time to speak with me. I wish your kingdom prosperity and you good health," Lann says.

He will eat and wait for Cene to be free before speaking with him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:54, Sun 03 Nov 2019.

King Corbin waited until Lann had moved off and then turned back to Brannon, " Well, that went well."

" Did you have any further queries?"

Caith murmurs in cheerful reply "Now that is lore well worth the knowing of, and one we are in sore need of, so I think ye have a bargain there, Cene of the Tomes, so aye, lore for lore, as far as my oaths permit."

She expounds on the matter on her mind further in a whisper "There are certain artifacts that none of us wanderers ken the powers of, including a fine wolfskin I've seen glimmering with my own eyes, but in a way ye'd more likely see the knack of, where the likes of me see only glimmer. 'Tis nay wise to tinker with such works unawares, but so few ken their workings at all. Mayhap when the feast ends ye might take a look with wiser eyes?"



"That they do, and at great cost." she agrees grimly, then adds in an apologetic tone "Ye are safe here in your stone nest to look twice, Cene. Ragged wanderers are less certain of their welcome nay wearing thin, and it is oft hard to speak of what one has learned to hide."

Caith shakes off the dour mood upon her as she concludes by shifting the topic to a happier, if no less complicated one as she asks "Speaking of which, if ye would forgive the impertinence, there is a man who seeks to bring learning to Gliss, even to those without wealth, but is a wanderer himself, and one of a god strange to me. I would like ye to meet him, for Sir Usopi seems a good sort to me, despite his strange ways."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:56, Sun 03 Nov 2019.

" Well, then. Til after the feast."

He glanced about in the direction of Caiths finger and smiled before darting off.



As Leofwyn said this a certain familiar form, Cene the Kings Sage, came up to her and Sir Usopi.

" Herbwife Caith tells me you are looking to start a school or place of tutelage in Glissom, Sir Usopi."

" And I see you have met the lovely Leaf who blew in upon the wind and turned all our garden beds to verdant."

" I hope this all finds you well."

Leofwyn said nothing, but laughed at the analogy.

Usopi's laugh boomed at the woman's optimism, something he had perhaps lost since he'd left Albion. The knight was reminded that even in pain there could be a brightness. As Leofwyn suggested enjoying the comforts of the feast hall Usopi raised his glass to her, grinning from behind it. He made to take his seat at the table, but stopped as Cene came up and engaged in conversation.




Usopi lifted a hand to his chin at the statement from the mage, "Education would certainly be a part of it. I have given thought to a sort of place for any in need, where food, shelter, and security might be found. A place for any young folk to learn and study would need to be a part of that. My hope would be to not only care for the unfortunate, but to teach them how to do so for others, in whatever form best suits them."

The big man shrugged amicably, "Of course, I have yet to actually reach the city, so I have not carved my plans in to stone."

He looked back to Leofwynn, "A Gardner then? How fascinating. I have not had the chance to practice in the field, but I have always thought that nurturing the life of the earth would be my calling had I not taken up arms."

He looked back to Cene and inclined his head, "Indeed, I have found the entire evening most enjoyable. Your hospitality has been humbling." He said with a grin as he extended a hand to shake with Cene.

Leofwyn was speechless as she listened to Usopi's dream and goal, her mouth ever so slightly ajar with surprise. She'd grown up amongst nobles and people with money to spare, and not one of them ever thought to help someone less fortunate. Her respect for Usopi increased the more he explained.




"I wish it had been something that I had planned and strived towards. Indeed my training actually began with fire - but... for various reasons I turned away from that and decided to embrace the earth instead. A decision I am daily grateful for."

She turned back to Cene and smiled and nodded alongside Usopi as he thanked Cene for the hospitality they had received.

Cene smiled at their words.

" A most noble undertaking, Sir Usopi. I think perhaps you have shown me up a little here, I will see what I can do about having something similar set up for Ereworns less fortunate. Most Excellent."

He bowed slightly to Leofwyn and left the two to their eating and drinking withdrawing back towards the windows to lean against the wall and look out across the room....

In reply to GM (msg # 101):
Deise will casually wonder toward Strawberry.
"Strawberry, all seems merry now that there is fine food and wine in our bellies. But earlier, the King, the Boar and you almost choked on our news of the amulet. What do we face Strawberry?"

Later in the conversation Deise will ask a favour.
"Before we head out again, I will need to concoct some tools of my particular trade. Delicate tools for delicate work. I will need a quiet private room for 3 or 4 days, some potions and powders. Can you help me?

Cene regarded Deise carefully, " Do not trouble yourself.  With Rimfax driven into the darkness then that which he heralds cannot emerge."

He bent down to Deise level and stared into his eyes, " As for the nightmare that lives in our memories...it is not something one can unsee, to look upon such immense, fathomless entropy given form is not something human eyes were meant to do."

He breathed out heavily, " My study is your study, don't touch the rack of blue liquid and all will be well."

"I am obliged. The Kings health., raising a goblet of wine.

When Deise is done, Lann will approach Cene and ask him for advice regarding his task in checking out Darian's laboratory.

He will also ask if Cene has any potions he has brewed as a sorcerrer that he can sell.

Cene watched Lann approach, " Ah, hello. Lann, isn't it?"

" Um, what sort of advice are you looking for? I don't know much more about it than its general location from some notes I found in Darians chambers."

" Sell? I'm afraid not. I do have three potions that will make one more dexterous that are almost completed.  I'm happy to send those along with your party, I have no use for them..it was more of a proof of concept experiment than anything."

Caith nods in agreement "Thank ye, and aye, 'til later, Sage Cene. Then I shall seek ye out." and indicates Sir Usopi with a casual gesture of her left hand.

Her right hand twitches, and sorely regretting the current lack of her warcoat's sleeves to hide it in, Caith silently makes a note to herself to sew pockets into her feast tunic, and sips her cider again.

The hedgewitch slips away, to seek out Sir Turren to ask a question, and mayhap offer a suggestion, one she hopes will not offend the knight bearing the sign of misfortune averted upon his head.

Caith walks up to Sir Turren, and when he is not deep in conversation, quietly inquires of him "Sir Turren, I nay mean to presume upon ye in idle curiosity, nor to ask ye about matters ye may nay wish to speak of, but as a healer, anything ye could tell me of how ye survived such a nasty kick?"

She indicates the hoofmark on Turren's head location on her own head, gesturing left handed to describe a crescent's arc, and adds "That lore is most useful, and may help me treat others with the same sort of injury."

In reply to GM (msg # 106):

"Could you lend me those notes to study so that I..I mean we will be more than prepared?" Lann asks.


"Ooh,theres a type of potion that restores a magician's magical energies. Are you able to make those?" Lann queries.

Cene looked thoughtful, " I can, but I'll warn you its merely a scrap of paper indicating that ' the Second Sanctum is near where the Ereworn springs forth'. And a note to look for a white boulder. ' I assume it was instructions to an underling or some such."

" I can but I will need to procure more supplies first and it will take me a month or so to brew a couple of them. I'm not much of an alchemist I'm afraid."

"Thank you for the advice. I will remember and relay it to the team when we meet. Yes would you mind brewing some to sell me? It will be very useful for us when we have to fight evil frequently," Lann says.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:49, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

Usopi chuckled lightly, "And how does one train with fire? Once a flame is lit what is there left to do with it?" he queried to Leofwyn, "Also, I find many good folk who turned to goodness from a path that began with fire." he grinned, "When I was a squire, the knight I served was... heated, but it was his example that set me on the path I walk today."



Usopi turned to Cene, "It would gladden me to know that other places are attempting the same thing. There are many in the world who, because they are of little consequence on a grand scale, find themselves abused by the whims of those with larger influence. To know that those of Ereworn who find themselves with such power share in my desire to care for the people, it does my heart well and solidifies my determination in pursuit of such lofty goals." He grins broadly and claps Cene on the shoulder before the man leaves.

" The notes are on the table just inside the door of my study, you can pick them up whenever you like."

" Well....I would hope that we won't need to fight evil all that frequently."

" Goodnight.", he finished as he headed off.

Lann wishes the mage a pleasant night and goes to his studies to retrieve the notes.

Usopi noticed Cene leaving the chamber and turned to Leofwyn, "Pardon me, I had a question I wished to ask of Cene before he departs."

Usopi stood and walked over to the sorcerer, hoping to cut him off from the exit, "Sir, I had some questions about an item I found a while ago, as well as about an enemy you all faced in your quest to unseat Darian. I have learned that the wodewose were used as dark warriors and enforcers by Darian, and that after you all defeated the duke, the remaining beings fled in to the pagans. We found some of them, and one of them carried the long sword that I bore across my back when we first arrived. Did many of the black warriors you fought use magical equipment? If not, might you have any idea why this one did?" Usopi posed his questions, "Similarly, as magical items are difficult to come by, I was curious if there might be some specific lore about the sword itself, an ancient legend or tall tale perhaps? One of it's properties is to fill its wielder with rage that makes enemies of all living beings present."

One of Usopi's hands scratched at his thigh, remembering the intense feelings the sword had imbued him with, "As things stand, I have sworn to only draw the sword if every creature around me is hostile, but the blade cuts through stone and steel just as it would satin or water. It is a strange item, and Caith even suggested at one time that the sword may have formed some connection to me as its wielder, but I shudder to think what that might mean in a broader context."

Cene nodded along as Usopi spoke, " No, the Black Riders did not use such things...simply steel and strength.  We did not find their captain here when we raided it...perhaps he was given such a weapon by Darian...or took it from one of the nobles of Ereworn? For so many estates were burnt and titled families slain in Darians frenzy to prevent future uprisings."

As Usopi described the blade to Cene one of his eyebrows shot up, " Well.....and I could be wrong....but the blade sounds reminiscent of Moralltach, the blade carried by an ancient namesake of my friend Diarmuid.  It was said he carried two...the smaller blade being called Beagalltach."

" Moralltach means Great Fury and was said to have slain a great giant.  Beyond that...if it is such a blade...I'm afraid I don't know."

" Perhaps it is similar to the riastradh of ancient tales or the barsarks of the Mercanians?"

“Indeed that was part of the problem. I found fire to be too... offensive. Destructive. I was training so that I might defend and protect people, not attack or harm others.” She thought for a moment before adding, “I used to equip fire like a weapon - now I work together with the earth.”

“Believe me,” she said and smiled, “I still carry my fire within me, though,” and she flicked her bright red braid over her shoulder,



”Yes, passion and purpose is important. It becomes the strength we need when our bodies run out of energy.”



”Of course.”

Leofwyn made her way back to her table to continue eating.

Usopi scratched his chin at the new information, "Moralltach is what a sorcerer we met in the Pagans called it. Perhaps it is the same blade. I can not think that there have been many like it through history." he pondered the news for a moment before adding, "I thank you for the information. I will maintain my oath not to draw the blade until only the most dire situations."

Lann reads the notes on the table and retrieved the three potions. Although he is tempted to cast perception of sorcery, he decides that Cene’s faith in him would not allow him to do so. Besides he needs all his magical energies for the morrow.

As Lann lifted up the first vial it began to bubble slightly and turned a slightly greenish colour....he recalled Cene had said they were almost ready....he decided not to touch the other two.

"OOps, didnt listen too carefully," Lann mutters, putting the vial back. He will take the notes and study them.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:36, Tue 05 Nov 2019.

As Cene said the notes seem to indicate an approximate location for a Sanctum of some kind.

Cene smiled, " I think that is wise."

" If you'll excuse me I'm going to take a walk down near the armoury if any of your friends wish to speak in private."

Cene nodded again and left into the north hall...

Barlow simply watched the others carefully as they ate and drank....taking notes on accents, mannerisms and other possibly useful tidbits.

Mammon had watched the conversation between Lann and the King with interest and a slight smirk, then downed her wine in one gulp and headed across to bother Drummond.

King Corbin looked again to Brannon, " Was there anything else? If not I might retire for the evening."

Brannon shakes his head. "No, Your Majesty. I am satisfied: thank you for hearing us out. Rest assured, Clann Cernach will do all it can to aid you, should you need it."

The evening winding down, and the adrenaline that has coursed through him all evening giving way to a sense of weary relief, Brannon prepares to retire, being sure to thank his Goddess for her blessing this day. Perhaps, he reflects, just perhaps, this mad scheme of Colm Cernach's is actually going to save the world...

Turren finishes his drink and relaxes in his seat.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:27, Tue 05 Nov 2019.

Sir Turren places down an empty cup and smiles sadly at Caith.

'By the grace of Gatanades and God I was given a new road. The prayers of priests and the tending of the same is all I had - the balancing of the humors, some bleeding, days at rest after I woke. To my shame I eventually pushed back a priest and two well meaning servants to get outdoors. And for all the weeks shut up in bed, it truly felt like the sun and the air gave me strength. I'm sorry, I have no sharp memories of my treatment beyond what I tell you now. And I must also admit, it takes me much longer now to commit the small things to memory on a daily basis. I often wonder if I wasn't so much healed, as denied the everlasting kingdom. I've sold all my lands, given up all my wealth save my armour and arms. My true healing will happen here, m'lady. My road to recovery is a road of piety and redemption.'

He absently touches the crescent on the back of his head.

'Some sweet things we struggle to recount, yet some dark misgivings mark us forever. Were I to give you any kind of fair answer, and truly strive to be at your service m'lady: Sleep. I recovered from my wound, physically at least,  after a long sleep, and then fresh water, fresh air and mild sunlight.'

King Corbin nodded to Brannon and called out, " I am retiring for the evening but please continue, Be Well!"

Seeing Corbin depart Diarmuid stopped his silent inspection of the equally silent Aphail and turned and left into the North Hall.

Drummond came over to Barlow and Mammon, " Right. So we're off tommorow and its my job to keep you two alive."

" Now, Mammon you said something about a fourth earlier this afternoon. Where is he at?"

" He was speaking with Cene earlier and then headed off, he's the rough looking armoured hillman with the scarred face. Looks useful enough in a scrap, and there might be some hidden talents there."

" Are you worried, Drummond? I know your more used to slaughtering bandits and robber-knights than this sort of thing."

" I'll be right.  Just don't go poking things yer not meant to and we'll all come back."

"Ye are on a quest of atonement then, Sir Turren? I wish ye well in such a task. I am already well aware that is nay easy to find the gold in the muck, but it is there none the less." Caith replies solemnly, then in equally serious yet more lightly spoken tone she offers "Sleep is a fine cure for many ills, aye, yet wakefulness has it's own remedies. Strikes me that ye would do well to spend time in a garden to let your memory regrow it's roots, to best give it a chance to put out new branches. Elemental balance is a rather more complicated matter, and one best accomplished by the patient."

She explains carefully "If ye can nay easy grip a new thought with your mind's hands, and it is in a language nay your birth tongue? Then think it to yourself, but in the words of your birth tongue. Oldest words ye know grip a thought tighter."

The hedgewitch smiles and adds "If it be in the tongue ye know best already? Then make a little verse of it. Rhyme has sharp hooks in it for memory's mouth to catch on, like a fisheman's barb grabs fish by the mouth and drags them home. And if ye be fortunate enough to have the knack of letters? Then write it down if ye can. Nay worry about the cost of keeping a memory outside your skull either. Wax tablets are cheaper than hide bound parchment, and can be pressed smooth to use again later."

Caith wryly admits "I am nay well served by my own memory, but I have nay hesitation to use any sheepdog's trick I can find to herd my own scattered thoughts."

When she has finished her conversation with Sir Turren, Caith seats herself back at the table to chat as the feast winds down, and to ask the Heathwarden if she might borrow certain historical artifacts to see if their worth may be better divined by the resident sage this evening.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:19, Wed 06 Nov 2019.

Turren thanks Caith politely for the advice.

When the king announces he his retiring, Turren waves off the notion of more drink, and excuses himself.

He takes the long way back to his chambers, stretching his legs before bed.

The hedgewitch awaits the Hearthwarden's conversation with King Corbin to be finished before she quietly asks Brannon "Would ye mind coming with me or loaning me those oddments found in the golden coffer? Yon sage reckons he'll give them a look over and see what he kens of them tonight. I trust him to nay lie about what he sees in them, fair or foul. Owe him some herb lore for the favor..."

Caith asks Alphail "Ye mind coming with me to see what he says? Two minds catch words better than one."

OOC: If Brannon has no objection, then Caith will go seek out Cene tonight in the armory with a bag of strange items found earlier.

"Ah, a wise decision! If you will come with me, I will get them from my pack. I will join you to see what Cene says." Brannon replies. Then, as they move out of general earshot, he adds in a low voice: "It went well with Corbin. He is sympathetic, and will send some of his men with us to 'fact-check': it is reasonable enough, and I have offered him the support of Clann Cernach in return for his support. I confess that I am impressed with the King and his advisors: it seems that they are in earnest."

With that he recovers his pack, and joins Caith and Aphail in seeking out Cene.

As Barlow, Mammon and Drummond spoke amongst themselves in a huddled group the others: Deise, Beathan, Leofwyn, Usopi and Uthen ate and drank and mingled amongst themselves.

Brannon, Caith and Aphail excused themselves and moved into the north hall leaving south through the double doors and across the courtyard towards the armoury. Brannon ran across and through the kitchen to retrieve the bundle from the common room.

They saw Cene leaning up against the wall next to the entry gate, the armoury door stood 10m to his right with two young guards slouched outside it.

" And here they are."

Caith smiles gratefully and answers "Thank ye, Hearthwarden, as I'm nay convinced my manners are quite up to the task of being courtly."



"Then ye have made a powerful ally for the clan..." Caith replies, nodding in approval as she pulls her warcoat over her shoulders against the coming chill of cold corridors after a warm feast hall, then offers  "...Black Boar reckons something's amiss in the advisor back in Gliss, but nay hint as to what beyond greed. Sage Strawberry kens more than he speaks of, but seems willing to share what he knows with a mere herbwitch, and terms himself a bookwitch."

She grins at the idea, and concludes "So I thought ye might be ken him better than me in some ways."



"Ye may live in a maze, but it's nay so confusing as to lose us in so easily, Sage Cene." Caith says in sardonic greeting.

" Lovely spring night.  Now...how can I be of assistance."

Caith looks to Brannon, then replies calmly, in carefully chosen words "A matter of five objects with the glimmer of enchantment to them, found buried beneath the earth, but we nay ken if they be baneful, and if so, by what means they should be broken."

She lists off on her fingers "A dagger, of bog iron by the look of it. A small orb of black polished stone. One pair of pale skin boots. A long bone wound with gold thread, and the black wolf pelt they were found wrapped in."

Caith offers fair warning as she adds "The boots are nay pleasant to behold, but that is all I could tell ye of them."

_{EDIT:For Clarity.}
This message was last edited by the player at 04:15, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

Lann leaves the study and walks around.

Ooc: does he bump into the rest seeking Cene?
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:01, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

OOC: If he walks into the courtyard he'll see them chatting openly near the armoury and the two bored guards, no ones being secretive about it.

Cene looks the items over for some ten or so minutes, carefully referring to some tomes and notations tucked into his pockets.

" And these were all in the bonepit where the shadow-creature rose?  It makes sense...most of these are darkling items though I believe that perhaps with care one could put them to good purposes....perhaps...."

" If my readings are correct then Hearthwarden Brannon already suspects what this onyx orb is, a focus for a druid of shadow or darkness."

" The dagger is interesting, it is...despite appearances, not a weapon. I believe that if plunged into the earth it will raise all things buried there as unliving servants...I believe that it will only work once...perhaps...it is not magic I am familiar with."

" Have you heard of Nostro the Miracle-Worker? A dubious figure of Selentine Ellesland? Nostro in Bacchile means Our...so it is suspected by some that he was perhaps a demon or some demi-human slave of a Selentine sorcerer."

" It is said he/it made these enchanted boots from the skin of an Elven lord. They have the characteristic of allowing whoever wears them to travel rapidly and tirelessly across any solid terrain." OOC: The wearer can move at 18m per Combat Round—a swift, unflagging jog. He can even go to sleep and the boots will keep striding, taking him where he wishes to go. He can cover some 160 miles in one day. The boots do not assist in crossing marshes, rivers or sea.

" It is likely if one of the Good Folk found one wearing these....well, eternity would be spent very unpleasantly I believe."

" A young mans humerus bound in gold thread....it is a form of spell storing I believe, if the bone is shattered then the spell will be released."

" Judging by the carvings and the nature of the gold thread I would guess that it contains a spell to Resurrect the dead."

" The pelt is interesting....it carries the curse of lycanthropy....but seems to allow one to retain their faculties while transformed as opposed to becoming a ravening beast...once donned it cannot be removed until the wearer has killed a sentient being.  It is useful and not too dangerous to my reconning."

"Aye. In a golden coffer." Caith replies in truthful answer.

The orb's identification passes without comment from the hedgewitch, just a wary look at the lump of polished stone.

The description of the dagger's power raises an odd expression from her, horror mingled with resigned acceptance of the fact that the vengeful dead might welcome such an opportunity to settle old scores.

The sullen anger is obvious in her tone as she agrees on the likely fate of any wearer of such 'elf boots' around actual elves "Aye, boots would be but the first thing they'd make of them..."

Her eyebrows rise at the bone's spell, then fall again, as she realizes the time such could magics have saved her kin is long past, even if she could make so powerful an incantation work at all. "Perhaps it can save a life in future then?" she offers by way of a journeywoman's opinion on a master's rank spell.

"Everything alive feels. Though I somehow doubt biting the heads off flowers would satisfy the wolf in this skin." is her only comment on the wolfskin as she picks it up, finally accepting the grim fact that some wolves cannot be outrun.

She bows to the King's man, and says politely "Thank ye for the knowing of these artifacts, Sage Cene. Mayhap some good can be had from them."

Caith offers "What herblore interests ye? Nay all of what I have learned is healer's lore, and some of it may be of use to ye in more esoteric ways."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:15, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

Cene chuckled and hand Caith a notebook and a stoppered inkwell and quill..."Fill it up with all ye know...or the concise version thereof."

Brannon closes his eyes, grimly at this new - it was no satisfaction to be proved right. "A Dark Druid. And he is still out there. Perhaps them dagger was how he raised those shades... Let us hope that separating him from his focus has hurt him. I do not know how we would go about destroying it... I fear to merely leave it lying around."

His face takes on a disgusted expression as he hears the stories of the other items. "Ach. I knew they were dark, but this is worse even than I had thought... yet they were buried in that coffer, so perhaps the site was not merely a random burial the druid chose to make his servants from. I will have no further truck with them: I do not know if the Fey  Folk would sooner have the skin of their Lord returned to them, or have the offending boots destroyed. Either way - we have confirmed that these are necromantic items of the worst kind, and I will not carry them further. They should be destroyed, if we can - otherwise, I say we bury them deeper than before and hope no one looks for them."

" Well, thats up to you. I'm off to bed.", Cene said lightly.

"What I am permitted to share, I will write down for ye." Caith answers quietly.



Caith looks surprised, angry, then utterly dejected as she simply packs the items away in the wolfskin again in silence.



"Good night to ye..." the hedgewitch says softly, still mindful of her manners, then looks to her comrades, and says in a stiffly formal tone "If ye nay wish to carry them further, Hearthwarden Darrow, then I will take that burden from ye. There is a forge here. I trust that will suffice to destroy bone, bog iron, skin and fur."

She walks away, refusing to let the fury overwhelm her, and goes in search of the forge, hoping there is still heat left in the coals...
This message was last edited by the player at 10:08, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

"I do not wish to carry them further." Brannon sighs. "Whether a forge would be hot enough to destroy them , I do not know. The onyx especially. I suppose there is only one way to find out..." Then he gives a small cough and looks embarrassed. "Er, they wouldn't explode or anything, would they? In truth, I've never burned anything with an enchantment on before."

Caith stops, considers the matter less furiously a moment, then offers pensively "To tell ye the truth, Hearthwarden, neither have I, and darkness? Who knows what forces are bound up in just that little pebble?"

She muses aloud "Yon smith will nay be pleased, nor the Lady of the forge if it causes more harm than good in the breaking of them though. Mayhap nay such a wise plan then?"

"Perhaps not. You know more of the arcane than I, by some measure." Brannon scratches his chin. "Well enough. We can, er, look into destroying them some other times... though I still suggest we aren't found carrying the skin of a dead elf on us. Encounters with the fey are hard enough as it is without explaining the source of our footwear... I will leave them with you."

Edited to reflect Brannon still being in the conversation when Lann arrives.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:51, Fri 08 Nov 2019.

Aphail looks from the Hearthwarden to the Herbwitch and back again, in fascination.  He has seen his share of evil artefacts and abominations of nature.  In truth, he is uncertain how to proceed, but trusts the other two are wiser and more considered than he.

Lann finishes his studies and strides across the courtyard.

Seeing his friends in conversation with the sorcerer, Lann joins them.

When Cene departs, he asks,” Perhaps I can try to use all my magical energies to negate the orb. I may fail though.
The scroll of resurrection is useful. I for one think we can find Chlainn and raise him.
The dagger seems evil but we can turn evil against evil. In the final fight against the steward, Colm can use it to turn the tide of battle.
The wolf skin is wonderful disguise for me or Caith since wolf is part of her heraldry or I can use it to enhance my disguise skill."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:46, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

"Aye, but such knowledge is so scarce that even a little is enough to wreak havoc in seconds..." Caith admits glumly "...And as forges contain their own magics, 'tis likely nay wise to mix them with others at random."

She gestures expansively about her head and adds "BOOM!" by way of a reminder as to the powers of the hearth's flame and forge dust back on the moors.



"Indeed, I will see what can be done to return them to their original owner with appropriate respect and care." Caith replies gravely as she reminds Brannon "Even the wildest lords and ladies of the forest fey bury their dead."



Caith considers the warlock's suggestion carefully then offers the cautious reply "Best attempt that well away from innocent folk. If that experiment works, it may release the darkness bound within it."



On the matter of the spellbone she looks doubtful and asks "I nay know if such an attempt would even work, or if his god would permit such intervention. How many days has it been since he died?"



Caith says in polite answer "As ye are the mightier warrior in battle? I would think a wolf well below such prowess to bother with when ye seek an army, but there are others who may yet wish to ask about the coffer's trove as well."



"Good eve to ye, Brannon of the Books. Try to nay ponder and read all night, aye?" the hedgewitch says in canny jest.


_{EDIT by player for revised time.}
This message was last edited by the player at 23:12, Fri 08 Nov 2019.

Brannon looks conflicted at these suggestions. "Useful, yes. He did say they might be put to good. I do not like it, but perhaps you are right... we must fight fire with fire. So to speak. Very well - I will leave that question to the Hearthfather. Aye - we already have a Wolf among us - " he glances towards Caith. "It seems apt that you should have the pelt, then, Caith, if you so wish: but we must be cautious in using the tools of darkness, lest we fall to their influence."

He scratches his chin, and looks carefully at Lann. "As for the Orb... could you? And what are the risks? We do not want to blow a hole in the castle wall - nor would I have you expose yourself to unreasonable risk. Anyway - I will let you think on it. For myself: I will retire."

With that, clearly deep in thought, Brannon bids Caith, Aphail and Lann good night, and makes to retire.

In reply to Toirneach Lann (msg # 154):

Before retiring for the evening, Deise seeks out Lann.
"Lann, I had heard you head off on the morn. I wanted to see you before you left. You saved my sight and have my thanks for that big man. I was hoping to share a parting glass with you before you go. To thank ye like. Ye'll have ye're work cut out with Mammon, I reckon. Keep well and may I see you again to fully repay the debt. 'An if I dont as you are a man of song, Id like pay you in a song from my homeland:

Oh all the money that e'er I spent
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all


Sing that and sing it well and dont worry, I'll watch those brigands from Glissom and make sure they keep their hands from your magical treasure, eh." Smiles Deise as he heads away from the man who saved his sight.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:45, Fri 08 Nov 2019.

In reply to Brannon Darrow (msg # 156):

"The orb might be dangerous not because of itself but because of it's owner. Cene said it's a focus for a dark Druid. I wonder if the dark Druid will know the location of the orb and try to seek it tonight. I suggest we guard it tonight and tomorrow we pass it to the king and cene and ask them to guard it or something," Lann replies.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:08, Sat 09 Nov 2019.

In reply to Caith Cernach (msg # 155):

"Well I certainly think the wolf skin will be useful to you Caith. Please take and use it! It will look good on you and complement your head gear," Lann says.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:08, Sat 09 Nov 2019.

In reply to Deise (msg # 157):

"Thank you my friend. It is very good of you to teach me a new song to entertain people. Don't think too much about what I did my friend! I am certain you will use your sight well! Take care and stay safe on your adventures! May we meet again over ale after we conclude our mission."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:08, Sat 09 Nov 2019.

Caith nods, and says softly "Aye. A wolf's bite goes to the bone..." then in formal but grateful tone "Thank ye for seeing the sense in it, Hearthwarden Darrow."



"Will be useful, aye..." Caith agrees politely, then asks him "Is the dagger useful to ye? Iron has it's uses against fey, or so I am told."

Back in the Western Hall:

The servants began clearing the plates away and subtly herding anyone remaining in the hall to the far end of the table.

After finishing their refreshment and conversations the remainder adjourned to their rooms for the remainder of the evening.

The sun rose over Ereworn Keep the next morning, to a cloudless spring day.

Aphail will rise early and take whatever light breakfast is avaialble, before heading for the workshop to help Sammel with his labours.

Lann will eat a quick breakfast before seeking Cene out

Sammel is already hard at work on the knights breastplates and welcomes Aphails assistance after assuring himself that Aphail has at least some idea what he's doing.

Usopi woke in the morning and went back to the tower he’d visited earlier, saying his morning prayers as the sun rose over the mountains.

Afterward he made his way down to the feasting hall for breakfast, greeting other diners warmly.

Cene is in his study looking rather bleary eyed and eating a rather sour looking apple, "Ah, Good Morning! Potions are on that shelf....one of them seems to have gone bad...but as Isaid I'm not much of an alchemist."

" Still. two is better than nought.  I think I saw Drummond around earlier so he'll have Barlow up and prepared to set off at the least....Lady Mammon takes her own time."

Barlow waved back among the sparse occupants, breakfast consisted mainly it seemed of leftovers from the night before.

" Good Morning, Sir Usopi.  Looks a nice day for a death march.", he said with a grin patting his satchel and spear beside him.

In reply to GM (msg # 168):

“Yeah I sorta spoilt it when I thought they were ready. Sorry,” Lann says. He then takes out the orb and asks Cene if he could guard it from the darkness Druid who would probably try to find the orb. He also asks if Cene trades magic items.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:09, Sat 09 Nov 2019.

Cene looked suprised, " Oh....well perhaps I'm not quite as bad an alchemist as I thought then."

" Um....not really my area of expertise I'm afraid though if it was put into the box that long ago I'd be very suprised if the owner was still alive.  Probably best it stays with the Hearthwarden it is a thing of his people.", he said handing it back.

" Trade? I have little to trade and my eyes tell me you are far richer in such things than I am."

Drummond strode into the hall and snatched up a cold slice of beef, " Stop yer whining, ye know I'm likely to cop it before you or the other ladies."

In reply to GM (msg # 168):

"I think we were attacked by one dark Druid before we came here. Not sure if it is the same owner of this orb and I am not certain if the hearthwarden has the means of guarding it from its owner. Do you think a dispel magic fast at sufficient power can negate the dark energies of this orb? Oh, I mean you are an alchemist and I was hoping you could brew some replenishment potions to sell me when I am back.,"'Lann says politely.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:44, Sat 09 Nov 2019.

" I very much doubt it was the owner of this if it was in the ground as long as it seems it was....I thought the trouble in the Grey Hills was caused by fell spirits of some sort?"

" It is born of Elemental magics and if the tales be true these orbs can only be made in the presence of a great Evil from the dawn of time. Better it goes back to the druids who know these things."

" Oh? I thought we had already agreed to that, though I said nought about selling them. I have little need for monies beyond the costs for ingredients. And my duties leave me little time to spend hours upon days tending the laboratory..but I will attempt to do so. Though I'll warn you its 50/50 whether they turn out or not. I am a very poor alchemist."

Usopi chuckled at the conversation between Barlow and Drummond, ”A fine morning indeed, Barlow. The thrill of setting out on another quest to protect innocent lives is exhilarating.” he said as he prepared a bite, turning his head to Drummond, ”And you seem like a fellow capable enough of surviving much. I’m certain you’ll come through your task in good health. A full breakfast will be a pleasant start.”

In reply to GM (msg # 174):

“Thank you so much my good sir. It is a pity I am unable to learn the secrets of alchemy. Well then anything specific you would like to find for you in the secret lab?” Lann asks eager to return the mage’s favor.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:37, Sun 10 Nov 2019.

Cene blanched, " Uh, no. I want nothing from that foul place.  With luck you'll find nothing there, but if Darian had it warded the Cleansing may not of penetrated such a place. Be on your guard."

" You'd best go see if the rest are ready."

Lann thanks the mage and brings the potions to find his new companions.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:09, Sun 10 Nov 2019.

Mammon swept down the stairs into the Western Hall nodding to Drummond and Barlow as she approached, a sturdy leather haversack over her furlined travelling cloak.

Otto was perched atop the haversack surveying the territory.

" Well, you two are ready. Where is our fourth?"

"Not in the library..." says an inky fingered Caith, too worn down by an early start on writing herbal lore down to be courtly in greeting "...Been there since dawn, and no sign of him."

She sits down to eat, and says no more than a "Morning to ye all." before giving her full attention to eating rather than talking.

Seeing his companions from afar, Lann approaches them,"Good morning everyone. I hope you guys have a good night's rest. I need to find the hearthwarden for a moment. Please excuse me for a while."

Lann finds Brannon, passes him the orb and cene's about the orb, wishes Brannon well and leaves.

He then returns to his companions and asks what they know of their mission.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:48, Sun 10 Nov 2019.

" Ah! Speak of the Devil and he is summoned."

" Little. The location and that we are to enter, assess and cleanse if necessary."

" Are you packed and prepared, Lann of the Mountains?"

Sir Turren arrives to break fast light, greeting all as he does so. He wishes Mammon and company well on their journey, and asks when they depart.

" As soon as Lann tells us he's ready.", Mammom grinned back at Sir Turren.

Lann replies he is always ready. Before he leaves with the rest, he takes out the two potions of dexterity and offers them to the three men saying it’s gifts from Cene.

In reply to Toirneach Lann (msg # 185):

Deise, once awake makes directly for Cene's study and will spend many days preparing potions of his own.

Turren says a silent prayer for their expedition, watching their backs with a pensive expression. He looks to Usopi, then returns to his cup of water. After a long drink he says. 'The project you spoke of at the feast, Sir Usopi. A place of shelter and learning, a place to aid those in need, so as to enhance those who might later in turn better the kingdom. I like this very much. It has been long since I felt inspired. If you require anything of me to this end, I am here.'

Usopi grinned at Turren's desire to help with his idea. How strange it was that what had only been a wisp of thought in his mind seemed so suddenly real.

"I appreciate that greatly, Sir Turren. I shall be certain to inform you if anything develops. At the moment I can make no certain plans because I have yet to actually reach Glissom. However, I would welcome any ideas on how to make such a place real." he replied to the other knight, "I imagine creating a place that provides food, shelter, education, and strength to folk in need of them will take some creativity."

In reply to Usopi Venia (msg # 188):

'I wonder if the Church of the True Faith would back such a venture,' Sir Turren mused. 'I cannot say. Just know I'd back it. Certainly keep me posted.'

For just a moment Usopi grimaced, and then the expression turned in to another chuckle as Usopi shook his head, ”It pains me to say so, but I doubt they would. While I hope to speak the True Faith to any that wish to hear it, I would not make its adherence a requirement for access to the facility. In the past the Church has been less then enthusiastic about the allowance of other religious practices.” he glanced toward Caith for a moment before continuing, ”And I have made assurances that I would stand in the way of any aggressive actions by the church against the innocent people of Glissom. My hope is that acceptance, understanding, and generosity might show folk the way to Gatanadese where the more unkind methods have failed.”

He ate a piece of food from his plate, chewed, and then swallowed before speaking again, ”But I will keep you informed as things develop.”

Turren let his mind march back to the south, and as he momentarily lost himself the screams of the past engulfed him like a sea. The dead did not shine in their mail, and he knew that somehow he had to get the grime off his armour, his red sword. He had to be cleansed -

He drifted back to the present, nodded. 'The church indeed has it's shortcomings,' he said to Usopi quietly. 'Sometimes the misguided intentions of the few can taint the road of many. Still, your idea seems closer to the divine kingdom than any I've heard in a long time, and I thought only to divert the finances of the True Faith to more... gentle ends. Regardless of how you proceed, I thank you, Sir Usopi.' 

" Good to know.", she said with a smirk.

" Come on, lads. Get a hustle on."

She shouldered her leather satchel again, made sure Otto was secure and headed for the door.

" Lann, you've got the map so you lead the way."

" Best give those shinies to Drummond. he's needs tham more than we do.", Barlow called to Lann as he followed Mammon out.

Drummond looked at Lann dubiously, " And whats some sparkly water supposed to do? Eh, I'll take em. I might get thirsty."

" Lets get a hustle on.", he urged as he departed the hall after the other two.

"Lets go! The potions make you quicker in battle my friend. Now before we leave, care to tell me what your specialties are? We will need to rely on each other to survive and best we know what each other is good at," Lann says wryly.

As they passed into the courtyard, Drummond looked back at Lanns.

" She out thinks stuff, he outwits stuff and I kill the hell out of stuff."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:17, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

Caith pauses in eating long enough to give the departing group a brief speculative look, then a quietly spoken "Good luck to ye." as they leave.

She seems content to eat and listen awhile...



Caith looks back, uncomfortably aware of the glance in her direction, but offers only "It does seem wiser to feed the starving than worry about what Gods, ah, or God they follow, aye.” by way of cautious agreement.



Caith looks less wary at this assurance herself, but her only response is a gentle smile and she leaves the two knights to their conversation in peace.

A little later she asks Usopi "Are ye planning on driving the cart back to town today, or paying a little extra for the lateness of return later? I'll chip in for that if need be."

In reply to Drummond Gilrow (msg # 196):

Lann replies that it is good to have such powerful warrior like Drummond to protect them. He iterates his trust in the lady.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:17, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

OOC:

Barlow, Drummond, Lann and Mammon head across to The Dukes Vault thread.

Usopi scratched his chin as he thought, "I believe we have it another four days, and if it's a two day trip back to the city then we can hold it here another two. If we're not finished here by then I'll take it down to him. If we wait longer then that he might worry something had happened to us."

Leofwyn is in the courtyard, harvesting some of the crops that have ripened overnight. While she is there, she sees the group leave the castle on their mission, and bids them farewell.

She then dusts herself off and makes her way up to the dining hall, dropping off the fresh produce to the kitchens on the way.

"Goodmorning, all!" She says happily, placing a bowl of assorted fruit in the middle of their table.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:28, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

"Fair enough, I nay remembered the number of days right, so that's another worry off my mind..." Caith replies, looking less glum as she explains "...As it's taking longer than I thought to write down even just the simpler lore I know."



Caith says in cheerful response "And the same to ye, Lady Leofwyn of the Green Lady's thumb." as she plucks a ripe strawberry from the bowl.

She is polite enough to remember to finish the berry before asking her "Have ye any talent in letters and the like, Leofywn? I've used the right words in Visic as far as I can tell in describing various plants, but ye may well have a better grasp of the proper botanical terms than I do."

Caith scratches her head, and ponders aloud "Would attaching bits of the herbs to the pages of a herbal treatise help more than just trying draw a picture of it if words aren't clear enough?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:10, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

As the strawberry goes, a peach vanishes straight after. 'Good morning indeed,' Sir Turren grins tight lipped as he chews, then seems to wrestle composure back to the surface. Clears his throat.

"Thank you, Lann." Brannon accepts the Orb, with some reluctance, and stows it in his pack. "I will return it to those who know about such things... the Temple of Flame may be too risky, but perhaps the Hearthfather will know what to do about it. In the meantime: good luck with your quest."

With that, he joins the others for Breakfast.

"My mother made sure I was schooled with the highest tutors, so I do have an understanding of language and writing... but I am more self-taught when it comes to herbs and plants. I could easily point out to you all the differences between the plants, but could no sooner tell you their names, I'm afraid. But I'm happy to read over your work to see if I can fill in any of the gaps."

She helped herself to some bread before adding, "My mother did teach me how to press flowers in the pages of her large tomes... I assume it would be a similar task to do the same with herbs and such. Shall we head to the library after breakfast?"



Leofwyn grins as sees Sir Turren take the Peach. "Sir Turren, if you're free in the next couple of days, you must come past the gardens at some point. The Peachtree seems to be flourishing and I could do with some help harvesting all of its fruits... In fact, there are so many peaches, one could lose count and not notice if a basket of peaches went missing."

She then laughed out loud at the idea of Sir Turren hoarding peaches in his room.

'Wll-mmn-mhm,' Turren swallows. Swallows again, hand up. Nodding. Finally, 'M'lady honour demands this tree be dealt with. We shall prevail.' 

"I am most glad then that your mother had the foresight to see that ye did, and I would appreciate any help with this hopeless muddle of notes..." Caith says gratefully, then explains "...I nay think in tidy sentences, so even though I tried to keep it in some kind of consistent order, there's footnotes all over the place. Flower pressing? In books? Hmm, that would work better, aye. Thank ye, and that seems a most excellent plan."

Caith smiles, and plucks a gooseberry from the bowl to chew while Sir Turren speaks of combat with a peach tree's bounty in comic challenge.

As Lann and his 'team' walk past the Workshop, Aphail takes a brief pause in his work to wave them off.  In truth he was glad to see that back of Mammon, for she seemed like a wild and dangerous woman, even more so than Lann!  Perhaps they were well suited to one another.  So many new faces, it was sometimes difficult for a simple forester to fathom.  Farewell Drummond the killer, Barlow the Thief, Mammon the Witch and Lann the Fool. He wondered who he would see again...

OOC:

You guys have a few days to get things in order, requisition things from stores. All armour will be back on the third day.

Research, relate, chat....

Aphail will continue to assist Sammell as best his can.  Ahpail will focus on basic labouring, simple metal and leather working.  He will follow Sammell's instructions closely.

In reply to Aphail MacRoach (msg # 210):

OOC: Deise would like five days to finish producing pellets and poison. Is that workable for others?

OOC: With Cenes assistance he can push it down to four days.

In reply to GM (msg # 212):

Much obliged

Over the four days ofnworking in Cenes study, Deise will some themes with the King's advisor.

"Strawberry, what did you make of Glissom and it's Steward when you were there? What does the King expect of this fact finding mission. Are we operating in the open or in the background?"

"If as our Gliss born companions suggest, that evil stalks that Kingdom, will we act in King Corbins name or use initiative where required. I ask this Cene, because in my long experience the difference between successful and failed missions is unerstanding expectations and boundaries.

"For how long Strawberry has this castle been the seat of power in Ereworn? Strange location for a Kings residence. A leader cannot lead without followers and if I may be brazen Cene, this is a poor place from which to build a new future for this land. You might think on that. A King like Corbin should be seen by the people. Move the centre of power and both trade and fellowship will follow. You'll build no legacy hiding up here in the mountains days away from your people. I'll not say that to the King, but trust that you will think kn this, eh.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:16, Tue 12 Nov 2019.

Caith spends a great deal of time in the library the garden and in and around the castle, foraging and trying to pin down what is needful in herb lore to a page in a sensible fashion. She explains what she can (Without breaking her oath as a herbwife!) to Leofwyn, and sometimes also Usopi in the process. The hedgewitch picks the Hearthwarden's mind for herb lore as well, and asks many questions of Healer Beathan to the same end.

The wolfskin sits tucked in her belt, bound with a strand of pale woolen thread, and occupies a dark corner of her thoughts, expressed only in more question to Dairmund, and some furtive reading on the subject of wolves that walk on two feet as well as four while writing the entry for Wolves Bane...

She also asks for more paper and ink from Cene, and obtains a few supplies in the way of cloth, leather and thread.

An entire afternoon is spent in trading fresh gathered herbs and mushrooms, and coinage as well in the task of cajoling numerous samples of exotic spices and sundry small amounts of dried and preserved foodstuffs out of the castle cook's pantry.

It is not until the third day that she dares enter the smithy, unwilling to disturb either him or Alphail at work, and picking a rare moment of rest, asks Sammell an odd question, but one she has asked other smiths before, namely "Would ye be willing to let me clean the smithy for dust, after the work is done for the day? There are good reason why I ask this of ye, sir, and I would nay bother ye over a trifling matter, nor would I call your forge slovenly..."

Caith confides to Sammell quietly "...But smithing work also makes a fair amount of dust, aye? I have uses for that dust other than it flying about your smithy with every strike."

"The Steward seemed a capable politician and seemed to have the place in hand, Glissoms King had unexpectedly found a deep religious calling in the last few years and locked himself away in contemplation leaving the steward to pick up the pieces. I'm not sure King Corbin has any real aims with your mission other than to get a true feeling of what is happening in our nearest neighbour and most important trading partner."

" Use your initiative as you see fit......try not to get caught up in a coup or the like without very good cause...."

" Castle Ereworn has been the seat of power since...I believe a few centuries ago. It was originally an ancient fortress and then a redoubt for the Selentines when they invaded. Obviously in more recent times a strong defensive position has been the main concern for those ruling over Ereworn."

"King Corbin has wanted to move to Ereworn Town for some time but that would entail extensive building works even if we reclaimed stones from the ruins there."

" Another option would be to reclaim and repair the ruins of Corbins families manor in the south and use that as the Seat of Power....but it is well out of the way.

" It is a long term plan, and though it wouldn't bother Corbin we re receiving more and more official visitors from the south and it won't do to have the King hold court in a ruined warehouse or the like."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:06, Wed 13 Nov 2019.

" No skin off my nose, Mistress.", Sammell said behind a sheen of sweat and soot.

" Be my guest."

Usopi passes the time in a myriad of ways.

When Caith is able to instill knowledge of herbs he listens intently, curious about the myriad effects of the plants that grew around them all the time.

He also spends a sizeable amount of time writing himself, though his writings take the form of a letter rather than a text book. It takes him some time, as he is new to writing Elleslandic, but once the letter is finished he asks Cene what the best way to get the letter delivered to Lakstead would be.


Usopi also spends time speaking with Cene and reading in the library, though he focuses his studies and questions more on the beings and creatures that served Duke Darian as opposed to the god beings that Darian was indebted to. He is curious about the Wodewose, the plague carrying winged creatures, and especially any other specific servants that Corbin and crew did not capture or kill. It seems that the surviving hostiles fled to Glissom, and if there are any more like the Black Rider Captain that they faced it would be good to know of them in advance.

Usopi will also, after the first day or two of rest, drill himself to keep his muscles loose and his body ready for combat. If the soldiers of the keep are also drilling regularly he will join them for a short time each day, though he does not dare to instruct them unless asked specific questions.

In between all of this, Usopi spends most of his down time either in the tower or the garden. There he prays, considers, and contemplates things.

Cene indicates that a letter can be sent along with royal correspondence quite easily, a messenger will be leaving for Albion in the next few days.

Usopi learns from both books and Cene that very few of Darians followers escaped other than those away from the Castle when it was attacked or those that were near the border when the cleansing happened.

Cene postulates there are very few of the Riders left, and that the loathsome demonic servants of Rimfax are recorded as being Hellrots...though it is likely not their proper name.

His drilling with the young men and women is greatly appreciated by all.

Brannon seems exhausted - his nerves and the strain of managing politics in a new land suddenly coming to the fore as he finds time to relax. He divides his time between prayer, and study in Cene's library, as well as taking a great interest in the history and architecture of Ereworn. He asks anyone who will listen about how far the Selentines made it into the country, and whether there are any ruins worth exploring. Time and again, though, he goes  back to the texts on Fengris and Rimfax, reading every little detail. It is clearly playing on his mind...

"Thank ye, Smith Sammell. I will return when ye finish work today to clean and glean the chaff from yon iron workhorse." Caith replies in poetic courtesy.

She glances towards Alphail, smiles and says "May the work go well." and leaves a jug of ale covered with a clean cloth beside him before she leaves, the rich aroma of hops and herbs rising from it despite the cloth over it.

Caith goes to gather library lore amid a different sort of dusty workplace, for all the smell of fresh herbs and rich spices is beginning to accumulate in one corner of it, page on page of the lore she deems safe to pass on to anyone well versed enough in reading to know.

A second copy lies safe in the scrollcase on her belt, as there is no greater gift she can think of in her lore to leave to her kin that satisfies her oath to her teachers as well.

That done, she seeks out Diarmuid, and asks a complex question of him in simple words "Did ye ever fear the Man ye were, when ye were the Black Boar Of the Woods, or the Boar's return when ye were a man again, or are ye both Boar and Man in the one skin, and nay afeared of either?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:33, Wed 13 Nov 2019.

Diarmuid looked at her carefully, " When I was the Boar I was running from sorrow with a fractured mind.  The Boar is still here but there is understanding....I go out to the wilderness regularly...the Boar is Diarmuid.  There is no need for fear."

"There may be nay need for it, but I am still afraid..." Caith admits in a whisper "...I am She Who Bites Wolves Back, aye, but this is a bigger wolf than those I have ever called to me afore."

She stares at Dairmund intently, as if she seeks to see the future in his surface, then shrugs as she concedes "Nay matters, I guess. A wolf is a wolf, no matter how large, and them I ken well enough to work with better than I did in times past."

The hedgewitch bows and says in pensive but hopeful tone "Ye have given me more to think on than I had hoped for, Dairmund Of Castle And Forest, and I thank ye for your hard won wisdom."

Information Brannon finds:

- The Selentines settled in Ereworn for a little over the amount of time they were in Ereworn.
They expanded Ereworn Town into a small city and to supplement the fort there created a redoubt in the mountains on the site of an older fortress. It is now Castle Ereworn.

- There are Selentine ruins scattered throughout the country, the majority around Ereworn town reclaimed by Gallows Wood.

- He also realises it will be Spring Festival in Glissom very soon.

- Of Rimfax and Fengris he determines that Rimfax was possibly once a god of fertility and the harvest, dragged into service of the Stalking Oblivion in the ages before written record.  The black-clad priests of Rimfax were perhaps once druids themselves but had regressed even past the point of the Servants of Shadow he knew back home.

- He comes to the conclusion eventually that worrying bout Fengris is like worrying about death, or a storm or old age...

Leofwyn spends a lot of her time in the gardens, or in the library with Caith, helping to fill any gaps or give any other translations that she's heard in her travels. She also brings out a book that she's been carrying with her, which includes a small pressed flower inside.
"This is one of the first flowers that I pressed by myself when I was still a wee one. These flowers grew all around my house - but my mother didn't have the heart to tell me that it was actually a weed." She laughed and put the greyish blue flower on the table. "But you can see that it is a rather good way of preserving the plant in a way that allows you to see it's structure, even if it does lose some of its colour,"



When she wasn't in the garden or library, you could find her exploring the grounds of the castle, stopping to pet any animal that crossed her path. Never seeming to be in too much of a hurry, she would stop to make conversation with anyone else not in a hurry.

One afternoon she bumps into Usopi on his way to the training area.

"Excuse me, Sir Usopi, I was wondering if I could bother you for some advice."

"I was looking at getting some form of armour before we all set out together, and wasn't sure who I should talk to about that. I have never had to have armour before, as I am more of a... long distance kind of person. But I have an inkling that that won't quite cut it this time..."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:18, Thu 14 Nov 2019.

With this realisation, Brannon finally lays down his pen. He glances over his notes, particularly those about the Selentines, and looks blearily at his ink-stained fingers.   "Bah." He grumbles to himself. "I am cooping myself up too much. We have more pressing concerns than the demon wolf, terrible though it is. I will let you deal with oblivion, Hearth Mother - you placed me here to deal with more earthly threats..."

To clear his head, he takes a stroll about the town and castle, sketching what he can of any signs of the Selentines. He will do his best to track down Aphail, Caith and Usopi to discuss their next moves.

"I would not mind taking a search in Gallows Wood for some of those Selentine Ruins... but perhaps it will have to wait for another time. The Spring Festival fast approaches - it is a big deal for the Temple of Flame, and I should be back in Glissom to see it. Besides, there is much I must discuss with the Hearthfather...

Sir Turren's next few days are much like those before.

Routine. Oiling and polishing arms and armour, going over kit, drilling, praying, eating... He enquires about obtaining a bow and arrows in his spare time too.

On the third day he seeks out a certain peach tree, and finds peace liberating it of it's fruit. These he gathers in whatever is available, and sets them aside for Leofwyn to distribute as she sees fit, taking but one for himself.

On the event that a bow comes to him, he will integrate archery into his timetable. Though no stranger to the weapon, he's not had need to pick one up off the red ground since his travels south. He'll familiarize himself as he may in the time given.

Usopi stopped to great Leofwyn and listened to her question. At first he was a little surprised by the question, not thinking of the woman as a combatant. Then he realized if she were traveling with them from now on she'd likely become a combatant soon enough.

He looked her up and down, thinking of what to say, "Well, I suppose if you think you'd still like to be longer distance, I'd suggest a gambeson or perhaps padded armor. I might even go so far as a mail hauberk, though at that point you'd likely begin to feel the weight of it slowing you down, which is often worse than simply having less protection." He looked her up and down once more before glancing down the corridor toward Sammell, "Perhaps Sammell might have an excess suit to sell that he could adjust to your measurments. Would you like me to accompany you to determine a fair price?" He asked.

----------



"And indeed there is the other matter Killian spoke of, the mining town north of Glissom." Usopi added with a small furrow of his brow, "Hopefully the situation is not so dire that they are already past help."



OOC - I believe what Usopi knows is; Brannon works for a secret employer, "Clan Cernach", who's family was killed by a corrupt leader. This employer wants to unseat said corrupt leader, who appears to have taken control of the local governing body through subterfuge, "The Steward and Clan Hewell". (possibly even using dark magic). Brannon and Co, are traveling around enlisting aid from other leaders, both in the areas of Glissom and without. While doing so they regularly perform good works for the small folk, and seem too decent of a sort to be sworn to madmen.

How Caith is involved, I'm not sure how much he'd know by know, since she joined after him and is not directly employed by secret boss. However, the hidden red hair, her inclusion as a Cernach clanswoman, and Brannon and Aphail's speed in taking her council have probably clued him in that something there is important.
(Though it's possible Brannon and Aphail got invested so quickly because they're all northern folk and just have a natural affinity for their own cultural signifiers, lol. )

"Oh, I would hate to inconvenience you - I can see you were heading somewhere with a purpose. You've given me some good advice to work on, and I thank you!" She turns to leave but hesitates for a moment.

"Just one more question..." she turns back to Usopi. "Perhaps you are not the one to ask this specifically... but is there someone in town that might deal in magical armour or wards? Would Sammell know of such things? For as you have no doubt gathered, physical strength is not my strong point - and so big, heavy armour would probably do me ill in the long run... but perhaps an enchantment? Something I could wear or place under my cropped cloak?" She stops talking, giving Usopi a chance to respond.

Usopi nodded his understanding as she made to leave, but raised an eyebrow at her question. At first he wasn't sure of an answer, and stroked his chin a moment.

Finally he spoke again, "Perhaps Sammel might know. I have found it difficult to know who holds knowledge of magic and power lately. However, he suspected me of embellishment when I described the snake woman. Caith might know the concept and theory of magical enchantment, though she seems more focused on works of an herbal nature. Cene seems the best source of magical information, as well as knowledge of which locals might be of further help. However, I have never seen the creation of magically enhanced equipment, only found such items in ruins and battlefields. It may be something possible only for the most skilled wielders of magical forces."

Caith looks intently at the flower, then smiles as she says "Another wolf in flower. The old empire's invaders called it Lupine, and 'tis a good source of food if ye have the knack of washing the bitterness out of the the bean seeds. Toast and pound to make a fair flour of them..." then grins as she adds "...One woman's weed is another woman's breakfast."

-------



"Aye, nay know how long such an archeological investigation will take, and we travel by foot, nay swift steeds..." Caith says in practical thought "...But if ye think there be something of interest on the way? I'd nay mind a quick look about them myself."

She suggests "I'd consider getting a pony, or a string of them, but the big lads would never manage with their stirrups dragging on the ground. Still, would make a difference in carrying supplies with even one pack pony, and they could act as another set of eyes and eyes to warn of predators on the prowl."

The hedgewitch cannily observes "I ken ye are eager to be back in Gliss for the Spring Festival, and it would be taken amiss if ye were nay present for it, Hearthwarden Darrow. I am most eager to have a word with the Hearth Father myself, and no doubt Lady Leofwyn would be most interested to see such ancient rites herself, but there's a certain man needing to be paid his finder's fee in Hallowhall first, aye?..."

------

On her way from the smithy, Caith notes another familiar face, and greets the carpenter from the road cheerfully, then asks him "How goes the work? Ye have a moment to spare for a small commission? There's a thing I have need of, a small flat lidded wooden box, hinged like scallop shell. Nay big, small enough to fit in a hand or a cloak pocket." as she passes over a scrap of paper with a diagram on it.

She goes out in search of beeswax after that, a plan in her mind taking shape...
This message was last edited by the player at 01:51, Fri 15 Nov 2019.

" Easy done, missus.  I'll have it for ye tamarrow, oak is ok? I've a nice bit that'll do well for that."

" Two silver?"

"Aye, 'tis well suited to the task I have in mind for it." Caith replies in cheerful agreement, then offers "Two silver now, and another one for your trouble to join them if ye can have it ready by tomorrow morning?"

" Easily done."

Deise, Sir Uthen, Sir Turren and Leofwyn

You all receive a missive under your door marked with your name and sealed with the Kings sigil.

' To ( Your Name),

I ask a request of you not as King but as Shepherd of the people and lands of Ereworn.  I ask that you put aside your labours here for the time being and accompany Hearthfather Darrow and his companions back to their homeland of Glissom. For two reasons I ask this; to determine if there is anything untoward occuring in the higher echelons of Gliss Society especially the royal court and also to provide them secure escort to their homeland in repayment for the service they have done our people.

Take with you this letter that acts as Royal Writ identifying you as an Agent of the Court of Ereworn and ensuring that you are to be treated as my representatives.  I expect it to take some time to arrive at a certain conclusion but would ask that some word be sent back to me of your progress within the month.

My Thanks and Regards,

Your Majesty King Corbin Elvaron.'

"Ye have yourself a bargain then, Master Carpenter." Caith replies, smiles and goes in search of beeswax.

On a stall rich in the aroma of honey, she finds what she seeks, and an elderly man with a most curious veiled hat hung on one of the posts of the striped brown and ochre yellow faded woolen awning above him.

More coin changes hands for honey, a dozen candles and two small rectangular slabs of beeswax, slightly smaller than the dimensions of the oaken box she ordered earlier.

OOC: Caith will make sundry purchases while she has the time at the castle, but I don't insist on playing through all of them.

I will go tote up the costs from the extensive lists, as none of her purchases are particularly expensive beyond the spices from the castle's cook.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Sat 16 Nov 2019.

"Thank you again for your time and your information. I will first seek out Sammell, and enquire with him." She inclined her head slightly, and then made her way to Sammell's workshop.


"Excuse me, Master Sammell? I mean not to interrupt, only I have a rather specific enquiry of you when you get a moment?" Leaf stood to the side and waited for Sammell to be ready.

" Yes, Miss Leofwyn? How can I help?", Sammel answered as he came over.

"I wanted to ask about some form of protection for me. Armour, yes, but maybe something simpler?"

She takes off her cropped cape and hands it to Sammel. "As you can see, I have woven fine steel into my Cape, which gives me a level of physical security and doesn't weigh me down."

"It's been enough for me in the past, but I'm thinking maybe in the coming months, it won't quite cut it."

"Do you have anything else like this that's lightweight yet protective?"
This message was last edited by the player at 07:19, Sun 17 Nov 2019.

" I've a few things Miss....not mostly not custom work like this, quite pricey I would think.  Nobility perhaps."

" Ah, listen to daft old Sammel letting his mouth run away with him...pay me no mind, Miss."

" I've a maille vest ( AF 2), made for a lad, just needs a cotton vest beneath and could be well hidden under travelling clothes...and fine clothes if specially tailored. Icould let you have it in barter for that number your wearing."

" I have the makings of a plate cuirass( AF 3) from Sir Uthen and Sir Usopis damaged armour and a gambeson for under it...its slim, made for a gel or lad not one one of them beefy jousting pieces, but its still a big chunk of metal. I'd need a 100 silver to cover costs..."


OOC: Just some info.

The prices quoted are massive discounts, normally 150 silver and 300 silver respectively.

Elementalists: –1 from attack and defence for wearing a AF 3; –3 for AF 4; -4 for AF 5.

Armour worn Chance of miscast spell ( Miscast spells cost 2x MP and are rolled randomly).

AF 3 10%
AF 4 20%
AF 5 30%

"I can see you are skilled and generous - and a credit to this kingdom. I thank you for your two wonderful offers but must pass on them at this time."

"The plate cuirass looks to be slightly too big for myself - and this cape of mine holds some nostalgic significance for me, and so I am not quite ready to part with it just yet."

"I must admit that I did have something a bit more particular in mind, but until that I know that it even exists, I might keep it to myself." She smiles and takes back her cloak. "Thank you, Master Sammel. I hope to do business with you in the future."

And she makes to leave.