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Hunting Trip

Silvester fell to his knees in front of the deer. He was breathing hard, blood was thundering in his ears. He skinned it. He needed to buy time, to think. The acrid smell still hadn’t faded, and whenever he glanced at Arvid, the head of the deer caught his eye and stared back accusingly. He found it better to keep his head down and finish the work he had set before himself.

Finally, when he finished, he looked at the impassive mage. “Are you done wasting time?” Silvester nodded, a forced calm spreading across his face. He slowly got up from the grass where he had been working. Bent down and grab the flank he could carry. The rest of this kill he left for the wolf’s and other wildlife of the Forest.

As he turned his back and prepared to head back into town he could have sworn he heard his name behind him. When he looked back it was only the deer carcass. With a shudder he shouldered his pack, sheathed his knife, and began to walk the same path back to Runeheim.

At the edge of town, Arvid stopped them both and they surveyed Runeheim. They could see the inhabitants of Runeheim going about their lives. The tavern loudly complaining as people entered or exited, the purple livery just barley in sight, a meeting on a porch of a log cabin a little closer to the forest then the rest. “This is where I leave you. I will be back for the next forum. To begin your initiation.”

Silvester just nodded, too numb to say anything. With that, Arvid turned on his heel and headed back into the forest.
After watching the town go about it’s routine preparations –and other tasks he hadn’t taken the time to notice before– Silvester finished the walk from wilderness to civilization with one thought on his mind, “He needed to talk to Java.”

As he was passing the cabin he heard a familiar voice.
“Heeey Silvester,” Felix called out, jogging out to meet him, “I hadn’t seen you in a while. Just wanted to see how are doing?”
With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes Silvester looked at Felix, “Yeah, things are good, thanks for asking.”

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Brittle

“You trust that I want to help you, yes?”

“No.”

“Then can you at least trust that I don’t want to hurt you?”

“No.” My reply shocked us both, stinging like an angry welt beneath the weight of the lash.

Why did I say that? We do trust Ragnar, don’t we? He’s always been someone to depend on: admirable, caring, courageous (to a foolhardy degree at times, even he admits), protective, strong– Ragnar has only ever done what was in the best interest of the people.

That’s just it though, isn’t it?

He would put the danger down– as he’s done for every parlous threat that faces the town– as he did with Brenna.

But it’s not that bad (yet). No need to catastrophize (yet). They don’t see ██ that way (yet).

“Alright, then we are operating from a baseline of zero trust.” Ivor observed the resultant silence, her tone humored. “Off to a good start.”

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Lucian’s Second Runeheim Lesson

Lucian is preparing for his speech for the members of House Valerian’s expedition.
“Angela, thanks for gathering everyone can you make sure Peter pays attention”

“Thank you for coming everyone I glad you all are safe after such a raucous forum.
First of all, as you know, we have successfully purified Fort Hrafnakastali. The curse dates back to the forts original construction. Some of the workers were buried alive in the walls and in their dying breaths cast a curse over the fort leading to the influx of spirits that were pulling people into solid walls. With the curse purged those and the stone monsters referred to as gargoyles should disappear entirely.

Secondly there was a powerful vampire controlling a Cyanahim monastery. She was performing a ritual on ‘Threads of Fate’ which was stopped. Many members of forum succumbed to her powerful mind control including a number of mages and the Night Warden. Due to this we sustained heavy losses but, everyone was recovered and due to the kindness of the Charismata Euthymius none of our injuries were permanent. Unfortunately the vampire escaped.

Next, the man Alu, who was responsible for the brainwashing of some of the town’s Branded during the previous forum, was captured and executed. Of course knowing this place he immediately rose as some sort of spirit and began brainwashing even more people. No one was seriously injured but, this entity also escaped.

Also members of House Drake have been seen in the area and were trying to purchase the service of a mercenary band so be on guard.

And lastly there have been groups of bandits roving the nearby woods, some of which were accompanied by rogue mages. The group I encountered were attempting to kidnap children, including my son Peter, for god knows what reason possibly to sell as slaves or to train as new bandits. Maybe even just to feed their dogs. Fortunately Silvester, Alfred and I were present to drive them off. I would recommend anyone who cannot defend themselves to only travel with armed guards.

Thank you all for coming sorry it was a long one. Hopefully with the Fort under our control things will get a little calmer.”

Afterwards he meets up with Angela and Peter. “Hopefully that wasn’t too boring or scary so much happens around here. And Peter I’m trying my hardest to keep you both safe while we are out here. You saw what happened when you came into forum to surprise me. How do you think your mom and I would feel if you disappeared. I love you son and I couldn’t live with myself if some monster took you away from me”

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Hazardous Waste Removal, Winter LA610

Surveying the once-cursed fortress with a sense of cautious relief, Felix took a deep breath. The air no longer hummed with magic, but the aftermath was a chaotic mess of debris, scattered stonework, and shattered furniture. Purposefully organizing the other porters to clear away the remnants, he moved slowly through the rubble, his gait irregular because of injuries sustained fighting the vampire spawn. If he focused on delegating tasks efficiently it kept his mind off the pain. The cursed fortress, now cleansed, still felt heavy with the ghosts of its past. Lucian’s counsel that we needed to finish the clearing of the catacombs to truly lay the curse to rest was driving their efforts.

Gilbert was sifting through the wreckage nearby, his fingers brushing over discarded weapons and armor of indeterminate age and disrepair, pausing only to mutter a line of verse. “The stars, like watchful eyes in heaven’s dome…” His mind seemed split between cataloging supplies and weaving some new poetry. Felix is again reminded that he could never understand how Gilbert’s mind worked, but he appreciated his acumen and candor regardless.

As Felix surveyed the wreckage, he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. Damian was off at Runeheim’s Church, recovering from the touch of the Vulgaris. What other trouble were those mages brewing in the shadows? He gave a small prayer of thanks to Benalus for the timely intervention of Sir Euthymius for his intervention on that. And then another for it again after the catastrophe that was the assault on the monastery. So many Rooks… it was clear these northmen did not understand the threat of the Vampires. He unconsciously pulled his collar higher up his neck.

Wincing and pushing himself against the wall to give some clearance to other porters moving an impressively large stone, his thoughts wandered to that foppish noble from House Drake lurking at Forum. He didn’t expect something less savory than a Rennet to show itself so quickly, but they didn’t seem to have any obvious allies around either. An ongoing threat, but not yet a naked blade. He mused on how to make him scarce without resorting to… Dunnick methods.

As Felix helped shuffle some rubble into a bucket, he signaled to the waiting porter it was good to remove. Watching as the scum left the hallway he recalled the reaction at Court to the prospect of conscripting the local scum and putting them to actual service of the Reich. He was still stunned by it. Putting scum to honest labor for their liege, whom they have provided nothing, yet received food and protection, they acted like these were hordes of the war-wounded, not contributing not out of choice, but necessity. He audibly scoffed to himself. Were the northmen that raided their shores so soft-hearted? Service with arms would teach these scum discipline and give them purpose. Instill comradeship with their countymen and to love the lands they fought for. That’s how you turn scum to use for the lands they otherwise refuse to work. When you bleed for the land you learn to care for it.

He groaned while pulling himself up along the wall and wiped his dusty hands on his pants. It’s fine. Her Ladyship was Seneschal now. We will aid the people here. Build their almshouse, whenever they deign it’s time. “We’ll make ourselves useful.” he reaffirmed “That’s how things get done.”

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Flip a Coin

Silvester was Tired

He had been in and out of combat all day and had barely slept either of the last two nights, fighting off waves of gargoyles, bandits, crows, spawn, and whatever else this land had decided was fit to throw at her ladyship. And now here he was again walking amicably up a hill with Java and Father Erasmus to hopefully save Mari-Lywd and protect Runeheim from these Vulgaris .
“So what do we have to deal with these mages?” He asked the group.
“Just my sword today, but if you fall here I can get you back to your house,” the Father promised.
Silvester nodded in thanks and glanced at Java, who was quieter than Silvester had come to know from her. She looked straight ahead and marched past him.

“Just my magic.”

Instantly, he was back. In the woods, in front of Java as bandits surrounded them. Her magic keeping them at bay, doing her most to protect them.
Then, in the dark, a scant few torches lighting up the shadows of the monastery courtyard. Just enough to know they were surrounded. The knot at their backs, the pain and frustration of a losing battle.
“Hey friend, we are friends. Come on, you don’t want to do this…”
A familiar voice. Tearing his eyes away from the Shadows, from the spawn, to see Java slam Lucian into the ground. He drew his bow and fired on instinct. What was happening!? Java looked at him with a slight head tilt, almost confused. Then her hands started to move.

“We’re here,” whispered the Father.

Silvester glanced around trying to collect himself. A snow packed clearing, two mages and the skeletal spirit they had come to rescue impaled on a spike. Yeah, they were in fact here. He was _here_ . The three of them looked at each other, nodded, and stepped into the clearing. As Silvester drew back his bow he wondered… which Java would he get this time?

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Head(space)

Rhyme turned the bezoar over in their hand, reflecting silently on the way it cast flecks of golden light off into the far corners of the room. The Lady was gone now, and with her fled the feeble grapple for a distraction the mage had clung to in attempts to shut out the echo of voices thundering in their skull.

‘Your student is betraying you … He holds himself back from killing you.’ ███ ██████ ███████.

‘I’ll take care of Mother Amelia…’ ███ ██████.

‘You put everyone in danger … If you want to defect and join the Vulgaris then…go do it. Just leave me out of it.’ Matthias.

‘What you do– it’s against nature.’ ████.

‘You burned Rowan–’ Sir Rowland.

‘You lied to me.’ Malachi.

The harsh gravity of their mistakes ran through their mind on a tired loop, competing loudly to drown out the now-familiar chorus driving Rhyme towards indulgence of their abnormal psyche. The madness they could suppress if they put in the willpower to steel their mind; but the distinct absence of insanity left all the more room for reflection to steal its way in. Silence was never absolute.

‘You want to see true power? … Little Interloper … I can teach you.’ ███ ██████ ███████.

‘You are not free … I can almost see the weave– but you still have a role to play to make it clear to me.’ The Lady.

‘Rhyme, you need to slow down.’ Matthias.

‘We’ll figure this out.’ Sygrun.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ Jester. Dun. Beacon of the Fire Guild. Rook to a vampire. Soulsplit. Daemon-haunted. Insane. “Interloper”. Vulgaris-minded. “Hero of Dunland”. ████████. Malefactor. Ally. Enemy. Rhyme. O’shea.

Why couldn’t they get it right? The others have been patient so far– but that kindness won’t last forever. If they keep moving perhaps they could tamp down the swell of all this neglected emotion and bury this sense of unease. If they worked a little harder then maybe they could outpace their ignorance, and repair what rifts they’d sown. One more act– one more study– one more apology…

‘You’re telling me what happened– that has nothing to do with how you feel.’ Sir Jacqueline…

“I’m a problem. I’m a burden. All I ever do is push everyone away.” Rhyme couldn’t remember when they’d arrived before Malachi– or why they had deigned to tell him this. They clutched at the bezoar in their pocket like a lifeline as the unfamiliar sting of tears clawed their way out from someplace buried and bricked over.

“No, Rhyme. I’ll always be here.” He looked so sad when he said it.

▲▲▲

‘I find it best to set aside your defenses, and to simply act as you are. They just want to make sure that you’re safe.’ ████.

“Enough!” Rhyme cast the bezoar across the room, breathless by the time it had clattered into obscurity somewhere behind their bed. No sooner had they unhanded the item did the flood of insanity return to deafen all other intrusions.

‘Find the bezoars,’ it demanded. ‘Find them all. Get them. Hoard them. Think how pretty they’d look– all lined up on your mantle…’

Compared to all that had come prior, the return of this particular preoccupation was a welcome relief from introspection, and it was with a thin sheen of sweat that Rhyme finally dropped back onto their and Reason’s empty bed. While a hand over their eyes blocked out the faint reflection of moonlight glancing off the snow and through their window, their thoughts supplemented a dancing array of crystalline reflections to attest to the beauty of the many bezoars their addled mind craved. Yet– somehow– Rhyme began to drift towards sleep in spite of the star-bright fireworks lighting up the backsides of their eyelids.

‘They just want … sure … you’re safe…’ An echo…

‘Huh… Is that true…?’ They wondered blearily. That thought hadn’t ever occurred to Rhyme– genuinely. That alone made them feel more messed up than any amount of meddling the vampire, Alu– or even the daemon could do…

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Unseen, Unheard

“TORA!”

“TORA!”

“I am right here!” I shouted, to no avail. I even tried to catch those dirty mage’s attention, Useless! you’d think with all the disgusting magic they use they would be able to see or hear me. Maybe that’s the problem, being chased by the Faeries my whole life has turned me into this, distrusting, miserable. I even dragged my poor Husband into this life. How could he leave me like that! chasing shadows in the woods, did our life running from shadows teach him nothing? How could he abandon us!?

I have to find a way back to my children.

Late winter – Lion Age 609

Will this ever end? Seasons have changed, nobles have fallen, Why am I still here? Unseen, Unheard.

The faerie queen told it true when she said she wouldn’t harm me, I can’t even waste away from hunger or cold. I am forced to exist in this place between, this accursed place. I will take my end into my own hands.

“Torkeld, I am coming.”

and with that, the Fae queen’s revenge on Astrid is complete.

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Don’t step on the Flowers

When I was young, I used to travel the woods near our home in Hrafnvik, my Ma and Da would send me out for forage to add to dinner. I always loved the woods, the birds, the deer, the squirrels.

Often I was alone.

Not paying attention to my surroundings.

I saw a beautiful selection of flowers before me, and as I moved closer to identify them, I tripped on a root and squished some of them flat, I could swear I heard a tiny screaming sound.

It must have been my imagination, I was pretty imaginative after all. I collected what I could and began to walk home, but this time…

The birds were gone, the squirrels had quieted, and the deer had fled.

I was all alone, until I wasn’t.

Before me stood a being, otherworldly and mysterious, not a person or a plant, but other. It berated me and I fled crying.

I was only a child, I knew not what I had done.

I am still running.

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Runeheim Lesson 1

Lucian gathers up Peter and his new friends.

“Welcome everyone I wanted to tell you all about some of the new things I learned about our new home. First off i want to say thank you for trusting me and not going with that stranger. From asking around I found out that they were either a fae of some variety or a member of a group of rogue wizards. Either way they would have been very bad to go with. I also met some scary new monsters. There were these big rock monsters that were super strong. According to the locals they were servants of the local spirit of the hunters. They were glowing a spooky green so if you see anyone or anything glowing green you should stay away and tell an adult. I also met some ghosts from under our new fortress. They could pass through walls and gave me and some of my friends a nasty disease. But don’t worry I am planning an expedition into the catacombs to see if I can put them to rest.

Also I heard that Silvester and some of the knights are working on taming a bear! If they manage I’ll see if they will let you all get to meet it. Now is anyone still interested in learning some math!

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Winter comes

Tove: Father, you will not believe what I’ve done. Ser Knut has promised to wed me if I earn 500 gold. I would be married to a noble man, we would be so well cared for and not scraping by anymore as we have been. Finally there is an end in site, a goal I can achieve, are you proud?

Trygve: Gods needn’t waste their time with mortal concerns such as gold or marriage, daughter. You were born to inherit so much more than being a simple noble could ever offer you. What would your grandmother think of this mortal behavior, Tove. You need to be living your life in her footsteps, spreading her wrath, embracing the cold that is to befall all these men.

Tove sighs: Here we go again. For the last time, da, you are not the son of Sveas nor am I her granddaughter. How I wish for a moment of clarity from you just this once.

Trygve stares at the woman, eyes wide: I have never seen more clearly in my entire life, Tove. Death is coming, the nights are growing longer, the earth is frozen, our time to thrive nears.

Tove kicks her bag across the floor: old man, you’ll be the death of us both if you don’t button your lips for 20 minutes. There is a reason I don’t bring you into town with me, can’t you see? You’re absolutely mad. Disgraceful. Besides, have you even eaten today?

Trygve: Gods needn’t nourishment in the form of food to stay strong…

Tove: For fucks sake, eat your soup while I run you a bath. Just because you’re the son of Sveas doesn’t mean you need to have the stench of death wafting around you.

Tove rolled her eyes, warming water to bathe the senile old man. He was right, the cold is coming, the food will become scarce, winters are terrifying for us mortals.