| Winter Solstice
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| Letter from Fjolfrin |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Old Gods |
| The frigid winds of winter tore through Jedinchel, the Roof of the World. They howled through the narrow passes and plunging valleys. Fjolfrin was no stranger to the cold but up here, high above the trees bellow, it seemed vicious. He felt as though it stalked him; relentlessly. The rising sun offered only a brief respite. It’s small slivers of warmth quickly cut away with the wind’s frozen bite. He threw another set of furs around him, strapping them tight across his chest. He could barely move but at least he was warm; warmer than he had been anyway.
Fjolfrin gave an aching grunt with each step. It was midday now, the seemingly heatless sun high above him. He shivered at the thought of coming night, paused, and took a drink from his small keg. “Ahhh…What would we do without you?” He said to himself. “You’ll keep us warm won’tchya?” With a smile he patted the keg and placed it back into his bag. “Alright you…,” He said shaking his fist to the uppermost peaks of Jedinchel, “We’ll make ya ours soon!” He gave a laugh but stopped short, something didn’t seem quite right.
He had become used to the droning of the wind, but there was a different sound coming from behind him; painful, longing moans… |
| Fjolfrin (Tribune of the Old Gods) |
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| Letter from Eowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Old Gods |
| In A Quit Room inside the Private Dwellings of Queen Éowyn.
Light from 8 candles flicker in the deeping darkness of night. 4 candles on a tall candelabra to the left and 4 more to the right. A shrine of small wooden figures sit upon a long narrow table in front of the Doesire family heraldry. The figurines vary in quality and weathering. Sitting upon her knees before the shrine is the current Queen of Thalmarkin. Her youthful voice echoes in the chamber as she raises a small saucer into the air. A prayer to the old ones to bless the sacred wine. As words end and a quiet once again falls the Queen remains still for a few moments more before lowering the wine for a small sip. Setting the remaing wine saucer down upon table in front of the newest statuette of a plump round woman. A tear streaks down Éowyn's cheek. Drawing out a long reed coated in incense Éowyn extends out her hand to light the incense in the closest candle. A quiet song fills the room as Éowyn raises up smoking incense into the air filling the room with the scent of honey.
Placing the reed in a small unseen hole it stands perfectly upright allowing an even burn. Lowering her head to the ground as the litany ends Éowyn scouts backward upon her knees. Quietly Éowyn retreats to the entry way were she pauses and looks upon the newest figurine.
"I miss you, Mom." Éowyn whispers to the statuette. "I hope I've made you proud. I'm Queen now. Watch over me as you have always done and guide me once again with your wisdom." With a Long silent gaze Éowyn turns and leaves. |
| Eowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| Winter Solstice In Binoaramet - Possible home of the Twinkling Trickster
Stars dance behind the veil of light, while snow crunches in the dead of winter.
An arctic roar responds to the slice of a spear, and the furious shaking of the lumbering beast splashes ichor from the wound. Ice bursts where it lands and a few drops kiss a chitin covered cheek.
Chittering at the sting, the dark figure dodges writhing limbs and scuttles around the armoured cuirass hand over hand. The thrashing thing had been wounded in dozens of places by the spear, but still stood.
A crushing claw narrowly misses the skittering figure, but clips the haft of her weapon. Vaulting along with the blow, she pounces toward the serpentine neck as the spear flickers into the darkness.
The strain of holding so many Grafts was starting to take its toll. She had to finish, and soon...
Landing with a cloud of frost, she bites at the gap in the thing's gorget, spilling ichor across her grotesque expression. Her jaw numb, she bites again and, while the beast writhes, brings a blade up to deflect an axe blow.
Climbing and biting. Slashing and dodging. Her jaw is stained with ichor and ice before the thing finally collapses with a shudder.
The slender figure looms over her kill before letting out a hissing call mixed with clicks.
"Witness! I defy Fate and claim this beast's power!"
Carving into the Ice Queen's champion under the dancing light of the stars, she eats the frozen flesh and shudders at the taste of raw magic. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Soren Navaar |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| No matter where he traveled today, Soren somehow ended up back at the temple in Seven Rivers, or just outside the ferry over to The Sick. A grim shadow hung over him by the third trip between them, and with nothing at the temple, he had finally resigned himself to checking out the ferry.
An hour later, Soren found himself setting foot on the cursed swampland of Seven Rivers, alone, and grumbling to himself. If the Trickster wanted to lead him along, he may as well see what would happen. It'd be his own cursed luck if he died here. Step after step, he trudged forward, boots sinking in slick muck and lifting out again with a wet pop all the while stalked by silence. This continued until, exhausted, his boots found stable dirt. He wanted to collapse on the ground right then and there, tired from the slow struggle to get this far. An easy death. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of him. Wherever the Emperor was leading him, he was determined to see it through to the end...
Another hour or so passed. It was hard to tell by just the position of the sun, but it had to be about mid day, but the true marker was the old stone building he came across. Having come into this part of the region several times now, he usually knew when a building was safe and when it wasn't, but this one was questionable. The stone steps were peeking up from the earth and the door had turned dark from moisture. Assuming what he sought was inside, Soren made a test of the structure. His leg came around at full force as he kicked the door in, wood splintered away, long since having given up on supporting anything. Nothing fell. Not stones stirred, just the crash and rain of what could barely be called wooden bits.
Not even dust stirred, held down by moisture, and the cobwebs that danced as he passed only gave the slightest of efforts before returning to rest. The building was once a townhouse, probably the home to a local leader or a well off farmer. No stairs or second floor existed, but a frail ladder to a loft suggested some storage. There were several rooms, but not one had a sign of what may have lived there in the past. A turned over chair, an empty barrel, a table. Everything had to have been carefully packed up to leave so little behind, or the place had already been cleared out several times by thieves. Why had the Emperor brought him to this place?
He paused before a window to look outside. Was I even supposed to come in here? Golden eyes peered back at him from the reeds. A black snout and a whirl of fur as it bolted into the woods. Black Jaw? Did the legendary grim wolf truly exist?
Growls filled the air. Multiple, and Soren flinched as he realized what had happened. The wolves of the swamp had followed him inside and were hungry. Turning, looking for an out, he realized the room he was in had little to offer. A single bookshelf, a couple of windows, and only one doorway. Closed windows offered a bit of protection as he decided to act, pushing the bookcase to the doorway. It proved harder than expected, not budging despite his every effort. Claws scratched the floor as he counted at least three wolves in the room nearby. He had to block the doorway. He shoulder checked the door as he heard a howl from across the house. Nothing. Move! Move Damn you! He bit his tongue trying to not yell aloud. Now he tried to rip the shelf from the wall, desperate for some kind of cover.
Crack! Crick... Crcik... CRACK!
The shelves began to tip over almost in slow motion as once more he could rely on the rotten wood. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and as the first snout poked its way into the doorway to check the noise... YELP! A whine and a cry as the wolf's nose was clipped with the shelf as Soren slammed it into place. It wouldn't last, but it would by him time. Heart racing he looked around again, eyes resting on a small alcove that hadn't existed before. A growl sounded from the edge of his hearing, but Soren focused instead on the small indent. A shelf, and a box. Small, metal, rusted. A banner hung behind it, a black flag with a white paw that looked like it would fray the second he touched it. "A Melite safe house," he wondered aloud as he reached out for the box. Nothing appeared trapped as he grabbed the lock and twisted. Rusted through, it broke into smaller pieces that clattered to the ground as he opened the box.
A vision of the Sennex glaring him came to mind. He didn't know over what. That list was too long. Instead, it was her letter that re recalled as he reached into the box and withdrew a silver signet ring. Now he had to get out of here. Happy Solstice indeed... |
| Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers) |
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| Roleplay from Tyler |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| so this was the home of the seeping giant. A tree of massive proportions created by the wolf god of life. He had been steeped in meditation for several weeks stopping only long enough to eat and sleep when needed. For weeks and weeks he waited for some sign. Something from the wolf god letting him know that he has been noticed and found worthy of the wolf gods attention.
he had almost given up hope. Nearly abandoned his quest before it was started. But just as any hope was about to be lost and he began to pack his belongings their was a rustling in the massive trees above him. From high in the tree a small object came spireling downward at an alarming speed. In just a mere moments time a small object buried itself halfway into the ground right at his feet. Looking down at the object it resembled an acorn of abnormally large size.
When Tyler reaches his hand down to grab the acorn assuming it a sign from the wolf god, the acorn sank into the ground until it could no longer be seen.
There was a tremor at his feet. At first he thought his legs were going weak however the trembling turned to a violent shaking. The ground around his feet was being displaced. From the ground shot out several thick long roots. These roots would entwine with one another. The roots would try to wrap their way around the legs of Tyler. However he would quickly use one of the roots growing from the ground as a spring board using the unnatural speed and force of the roots to propel him into a front roll. Tyler turned around expecting whatever these things were to be chasing him however what he saw was much worse.
The roots continue to entertained seemingly unconcerned with his quick escape. More and more roots erupted from the ground and very quickly the roots began to take shape. Before long the twisting roots resembled a wolf. And a very large one at that. The head of the wolf stood a foot taller then him and the beast could have easily weighted over a thousand pounds.
The wolf let out menacing howl. And stares defiantly at Tyler. For a moment he feels fear creeping into his body. The urge to flee was nearly irresistible. But he would not back down. This was his test. The wolf only allows those who are strong to survive. And if you truly wanted his blessing you would need to be stronger then most.
Tyler removes the sunlight dagger from his sheathe the light of the setting sun shining from the blade like a beacon for just a moment as it leaves his sheathe. His thrice blessed shield comforted him as the weight of it settles on his arm.
for just a moment the monsterous root wolf and Tyler the mere adventurer stared at each other in defiance. And then the battle begins.
In mere seconds the wolf closed the distance between them catching Tyler nearly completely off guard. The wolfs jaws clamped down on where Tyler's head had been mere moments ago. Luckily in place of Tyler's skull was his shield. Any normal shield would have crumpled like useless paper but his shield held strong and the beasts jaws crunched against the top and bottom of the shield. With Tyler's hand stretched above his head to stop the wolfs attack their was a brief stalemate as the beast tried in vein to crush his precious shield. Tyler took advantage of the distraction and sliced at the beats legs with his free arm gashing the beast causing it to let out a menacing howl that caused his ears to ring violently. As the beast let go of the shield to let out it's cry of pain Tyler used his now free shield arm to smash the beasts face causing the wolfs head to dip down in pain. In a one fluid motion Tyler brought his dagger from his intial slash at the beasts legs into an upward slash catching the wolfs drooping head with a deep slash from mouth to the forehead right between where the beasts eyes would have been. He then brought the dagger back down in the same motion to burry the dagger square in the beasts forehead. Tyler was flung sideways as the wolf shook his head with such force that Tyler let go of his dagger now buried in the beats forehead like some brutal horn. This sent Tyler flying sideways right next to the beast. Now unarmed Tyler scrambled to his feet using the wolfs pain as a distraction
Tyler would leap onto the side of the wolf using the many thick roots as handholds and begins climbing to the top of the beast. It would be the only place safe from the beasts snapping jaws. The beast would thrash and howl and smash against the great seeping giant and any other rocks or trees to shake off the adventurer upon his back.
Tyler's body had been smashed against tree as he attempted his climb to the top of the beast the impact smashed in his armor now he was being slowly impaled by his own armor. He will need to end this fast if he wishes to survive.
AFter finally making it to the top of the beast Tyler finally finds what he's looking for a weakness. In-between the roots of the beast he could see a glowing pulsating object beating rythmically like a heart. He did the only thing he could and began to reach his hand toward this oddity it was a tight fit trying to squeeze his hand between the roots that made up this monsters body. And the beast made it all the harder as it seems to thrash and wail without end. He was close but his pinky finger stopped him from reaching the final distance between the roots and the strange glowing object. So gritting his teeth he did what he had to.
With a sickening crack tyler forced his pinky to bend much farther sideways then any finger should. But with this last bit of room he grasped the strange pulsating light and crushed it in his fists.
And then there was silence. The roots dissolve back into the ground almost as fast as they appeared. In mere moments he is alone with the seeping giant once again. His blade is on the ground not far from him. In the distance a single long howl can be heard. He had passed the wolf gods challenge. His gift would be life. That and the now crushed acorn he held in his closed fist. With a smile on his lips Tyler passed out from exhaustion where he lay. His wounds were painful but not life threatening and could wait to be tended to for now he must rest. |
| Tyler (Adventurer) |
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| Roleplay from Tyler |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| Priestess Nerta,
I have done as you asked I have made a pilgrimage to the seeping giant. There I meditated for several weeks seeking the wolf god of life and his guidance. As I was about to give up hope I was attacked by wolf made of roots. It stood a foot taller then I and was very nearly the death of me. I can only assume this was a test of mettle to see if I deserved the life I was blessed with. However I live and the beast is vanquished. Since the encounter I feel like something has changed.. though what I cannot yet be sure. I would like to come discuss this with you in person if you have the time. |
| Tyler (Adventurer) |
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| Firbalt
200px
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| Important Event for The Old Gods
Follower Grante Le Monte has constructed a new temple in Heen & Tor.
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| Letter from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| The Dalesmen are keeping busy piling up rocks I see. I wonder if any wish to join I protecting and patrolling all this new area as another Guardian. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Letter from Ryosuke Guile |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Old Gods |
| Senex,
We are busy doing far more than just piling up rocks.
There are many things afoot within the Arcane Republic, and the expansion of our faith into Duke Grante's lands is a necessary step towards one of our current goals. With the merger of Obia'Syela complete, Duke Grante and myself find ourselves directly countered by two Dukes of the Obean faith within our own realm. Given Duke Grante's stance on magickal applications on a daily basis, it further complicates my own interests and delays the advancement of my arcane studies. This is in no way a negative thing, nor an attempt to slander the good Duke, it is merely an observation on the state of things. I am devoted entirely to the betterment of our species, quite unlike my former Guardian, the rogue Prince Woelfen. I will not apply any magicks without the consensus and agreement of those who follow me. Whilst I am Hierophant, that means the entirety of Irondale as the realm has put me in good faith, in charge of things. If I am not in continuance in this post, and am solely relying on my positions as Duke of Prisma Noctis, as well as Margrave of Firbalt, then I shall pursue my personal magickal agenda a bit more freely. As I am currently the Ruler of the Republic, I would feel remiss to follow my own rather selfish interests.
In regards to the pursuit of a new Guardian for our geographic region, given the new temple infrastructure gifted by Irondale's own Duke of Land's End, what might be the requirements for one to undertake such a position? I am quite sure that there are suitable candidates within the Arcane Republic, but I am unable to recommend one without further details. These damnable Divine Seasons that Overarch all of mankind complicate and confound many matters, even if they are merry and enjoyable!
That being said, I do wish everyone a happy Divine Holiday season and a joyous time with your families, and loved ones!
Strength and Honour,
Vox Noctix |
| Ryosuke Guile (Hierophant of Irondale) |
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| Letter from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| So piling up rocks, as part of a contest with the Heralds, and each other?
Wonderful.
Look Ryosuke, Guardians protect people. How they do it is up to them.
I kill monsters, Balin catches bricks and communes with animals.
You can build all the lore houses and meeting halls you want, but they'll sit empty if there's no one to help the people.
I hope your winter solstice goes well. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Letter from Ryosuke Guile |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Old Gods |
| It most certainly does not feel as though that was a genuine well-wishing. Your snarky attitude is duly noted, Senex. Remind me to avoid bothering speaking within these halls in the future. Obviously, taking my time to explain matters of Irondale means naught and is nothing but a waste of my time and energy.
Enjoy your, whatever-you-wish-to-call-it.
Strength and Honour,
Vox Noctis, |
| Ryosuke Guile (Hierophant of Irondale) |
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| Letter from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| Your majesty,
Do not mind the weaver. She's just cranky from being on the road for a month and a half visiting empty temples. In point of fact she'll be in Firbalt tomorrow. I'd say you two can discuss matters in person, but she's generally not one for words.
Either way it sounds like Irondale is very interesting right now. I look forward to seeing the sights and hearing of this festival of yours once she, shall we say, has a chance to rest.
Until later,
Sennex |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Letter from Soren Navaar |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| A pair of letters arrives for Nerta with a small box containing a silver seal ring.
The first letter is a short missive, while the second is several pages of drawings, still improving from the first ones he sent her some time ago, detailing his adventure and climactic battle with the wolves.
Nerta,
I'm looking into the seal of office, but I did find an old Melite safe-house in Seven Rivers this solstice. It was strange, like I was forced to go there. This was inside and may fit the bill until we can make something newer or find an original.
Regardless, I hope you are well and safe. It's been some time since I last saw you.
Sincerely, |
| Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Standing in the shadow of yet another statue, the cloaked woman glances down the boulevard at the countless relics of old. She'd visited a lot of cities over the last month and a half, but this one was proving to be the most, urban.
It made her skin crawl.
It doesn't take long for her loitering to draw the attention of the local constabulary. The crisply dressed man in blue seemed keen to ensure the surly wayfarers doesn't disturb the merchants and points her toward the temple.
Hunched and rubbing her arms as she passes gardens filled with festive celebrations, Nerta's well worn appearance seems quite out of place in the pristine and orderly city. The ragged stains of frozen ichor from her battle in Binoaramet didn't help matters. Maybe she could find a bath and a tailor. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Birdbaths weren't Nerta's style, so the garden city had little for the wanderer. She did find the temple though, and a familiar figure coming down the steps.
"Well well, so all the scribbles might be tue after all. Fancy clothes like those I guess you're a Baron no longer."
Eying Ryosuke, the woman in a tattered cloak leans on her spear and wrinkles her nose.
"Did you ever make it to Wudenkin?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Letter from Ryosuke Guile |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Old Gods |
| I must admit some surprise to see a swords challenge brought to my home. I shall see you at dawn, Senex.
You have now accepted the challenge from Lady Nerta Unti, Dame of Agyr, Priestess of The Old Gods.
Meet her in the same city with an academy to resolved the training match.
I hope you've not gotten rusty!
Strength and Honour,
Vox Noctis, |
| Ryosuke Guile (Hierophant of Irondale) |
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| Letter from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| Leave him out of it. I just want some practice. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Letter from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| The Hierophant's shield turns aside the Guardian's spear as the pair clash on the steps to the temple. The man's reflexes earns him a faint smile.
"Not bad. You've certainly kept sharp."
Not standing down, Nerta rests a hand on the lip of the shield and murmurs.
"But what have you been doing on the quest, or has running this city distracted you?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Ryosuke Guile |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| After their impromptu training match on the temple steps ends, Ryosuke tips his head in response to the acknowledgement of his swordsmanship. Sheathing Bloodlaw into the simple red leather scabbard on his hip and passing his Buckler off to a waiting attendant, the Hierophant of Irondale tilts his head curiously at Nerta's murmured question.
"I continue my quest as I have ever done, which is in my own fashion. My calling speaks to me clearly. Firbalt requires some attending, to be sure, but I've capable hands available to assist in such matters." |
| Ryosuke Guile (Hierophant of Irondale) |
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| Roleplay from Ryosuke Guile |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| After their impromptu training match on the temple steps ends, Ryosuke tips his head in response to the acknowledgement of his swordsmanship. Sheathing Bloodlaw into the simple red leather scabbard on his hip and passing his Buckler off to a waiting attendant, the Hierophant of Irondale tilts his head curiously at Nerta's murmured question.
"I continue my quest as I have ever done, which is in my own fashion. My calling speaks to me clearly. Firbalt requires some attending, to be sure, but I've capable hands available to assist in such matters." |
| Ryosuke Guile (Hierophant of Irondale) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Training match concluded, Nerta let's Ryosuke sheath his blade, but eyes the man impatiently at his answer.
"Patrician talk for 'yes' if I've ever heard it."
Sighing she glances past the man to the temple behind.
"The Old Man says you've a long way to go to catch up with Agyr, but I'll leave you two to that and just tend to the quest board. Enjoy yourself, Ryosuke, and thanks for the duel."
Turning she adds, "Anyone else?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Raoh
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| Roleplay from Raoh Hall |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Raoh steps into the ring with his training sword.
(Raoh) I am your opponent today my lady. As he bows. |
| Raoh Hall (Knight of Firbalt) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| "Another one that knows how to fight. Good."
Shifting the spear back across her shoulders, Nerta nods.
"Didn't you used to fly the Ar Agyr flag, maybe Arfordir?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Raoh Hall |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| ' It is true i have fought for many years under the banner of Agyr, and many other county's before that.'
(Dose a barrel roll) !
' Irondale included, i was your ex general for a reasonable time'. ' the old Hierophant had it out for me a long time ago'
' However i feel it is now the time that Irondale requires me once more in the field'.
( Raoh smiles) |
| Raoh Hall (Knight of Firbalt) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| "Ahhh the exiled prince returned and all that. "
Nerta pivots away from the gymnastics and, with a smile, rolls her spear off her shoulders to catch it.
"I remember that troublemaker. The Old Man had a few choice words about their frivolous use of magic."
"So what'll you do now that you're home?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Raoh Hall |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| 'Pick up roughly from were i left off, and heading out to aid where i am needed most'. 'I even got my old estate back'.
'Been a humble lemon farmer was never the life chosen for me it seems' |
| Raoh Hall (Knight of Firbalt) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Nerta practically snorts.
"Pity that, Plebeian life is honest at least. Well, best of luck to you. Kill a few undead on the way out." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Balin
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| Roleplay from Ryosuke Guile |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Good Ser Balin,
I shall see to adding additional funds when taxes have arrived. My collectors are currently visiting the tax houses today and receiving the funds, and they should be delivered soon. I do try to keep a slush fund available in the Temple for whoever might need it, but had not realised it had dropped so low. I just put 500 gold in a day or two ago to "top things up" as they say. |
| Ryosuke Guile (Hierophant of Irondale) |
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| Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Your Highness Ryosuke Guile,
I thank Your Grace for the continued support of the church. I myself have increased the funds of this church by another 200 gold this tax season. I'm certain that within a couple of tax seasons we shall be able to increase the temple size as your Highness desires, so that the teachings of the Masked One can further spread to the followers of the church. |
| Balin De Chaol Ghleann (Knight of Jedinchel, Guardian of the Old Gods) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Still twitchy despite her new cloak, Nerta pauses on the march back up the steps to the temple to wrinkle her nose.
"Smells of wolf.... Balin have you come here to help pile up rocks?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Balin turns with a smile on his face.
"Nerta! It's good to see you. Indeed, I'm here to do what I do best.. Pick rocks up, then put them down again.. but perhaps a little higher then they were last"
He turns to look at the temple and nods to himself, "And that is how a temple gets bigger. I also find that singing about wolves helps motivate the workers on site."
He grins as he starts to sing a quick tune, albeit sounding rather flat.
"Wolves are better than people
Folks, don't you think that's true?
Yeah, people will beat you
And curse you and cheat you
Every one of them's bad except wolves!"
He grins as he picks up a bottle of mead from a nearby table and holds it out towards Nerta. |
| Balin De Chaol Ghleann (Knight of Jedinchel, Guardian of the Old Gods) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| The woman lets out a short, bark of a laugh quite akin to the wolf of his song.
"Oh is that how it works? And here I thought some masons just plowed each other behind the brick hut after drinking heavily and had to shotgun a building project. Shows what I know about piles of rock."
Accepting the mead she eyes the mohawk sporting minstrel and can't help but think of Soren the troublesome bard. Idiot was probably doing something stupid right now. Why was she always surrounded by singers?
"Not a bad ditty, or drink. You make either, or just smuggle them into this," she pauses to glances and pulls her cloak in tighter, "city." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Firbalt |
| Balin grinned widely at the comment on the masons' habits. She might be onto something there.
"Glad you like the drink. It's made of fermented berries taken after the first frost, from up in Thalmarkin. Speaking of temples, I will be heading back to Vatrona shortly. A new temple needs to be built there so I need to go make a few piles of rock for the masons to rearrange in shapes to be determined." |
| Balin De Chaol Ghleann (Knight of Jedinchel, Guardian of the Old Gods) |
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| Vatrona
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| Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in the Old Gods |
| Balin was sitting down in a large wooden chair, listening to his advisers drone on about the problems the city of Vatrona is facing. He had been sitting there listening for over an hour and a headache was beginning to work it's way around his temples. He had only been appointed Margrave of Vatrona a day past and already the requests were flooding in, every one of them seemingly critical to some aspect of the economy, defense, or whatever else these advisors deemed important.
"The outer walls must have more banners. Gold must be immediately diverted towards.."
"The zoo only has 10 types of bunnies on display. We simply MUST acquire.."
Balin slowly rubbed his temples, as his thoughts drifted away to images of large trees, clear springs, birds chirping... and a great white wolf with deep red eyes starring intently at him. He startled back into awareness and quickly looked around. His heart was beating fast, yet nothing had changed in the room. The advisors kept on droning and yet.. what had that been?
Understanding came upon him as a warm blanket in the winter and he knew what the first order of business must be.
Balin stood up, quieting his advisors.
"As your new Margrave, I have decided what our first project shall be. We shall build a new temple dedicated to the Wolf Lord in the center of the city, in the middle of the great park of Vatrona. It shall be made of stone and logs, and banners of white wolves shall adorn its walls. " Balin turned towards the third advisor with a wolfish grin on his face " And perhaps some bunnies can be kept there too, as a snack for any wondering wolves that happen by".
He quickly scurried the advisors out of the room to carry out his order. A new temple construction in Vatrona would begin that very day. His headache had gone away too. This was turning to be a good day afterall.
Elsewhere, on a hill overlooking the city of Vatrona, birds chirped happily as they bounced from tree to tree. Had the birds looks down, they would have seen a large white wolf with red eyes watching the city intently, then turn around, teeth barred in what seemed to be a satisfied grin if wolves could grin, and vanish into the deep forest. |
| Balin De Chaol Ghleann (Margrave of Vatrona, Guardian of the Old Gods) |
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