Thatch stretches and yawns as Vardi helps Ori with his armor, but as she mentions a scout, he stifles another yawn and nods “I’ll go and check on Famh and the others as you slowfolk start moving. Shake a leg now.” Thatch heads out of the room and races to the main hall.
He runs into Famh as she appears to be leaving it. “What’s going on? Are the lads still alive? Vardi came in like she saw the shade of the girl herself.” Thatch cranes his neck, trying to peer beyond Famh into the room. “The others are on the way, how can we help?”
As Keenlen does not seem to react to her feeler about Morag in any way her admittedly sleepy e'en can perceive, Famh continues on as if the subject hadn't been of any particular interest to her. "Well, they say ane guid chaist story is best repaid wi' another. I remember ane we telt i' the pasturelands around Brymstone whan I were a lass... aboot a sea cave juist north o 'the Nine Barrows Downs, betwixt thaim an the Laird's city proper.
" 'Twas aye said among us thon this cave ha' been a resort o the Aos Sidhe syne ancient days. An' the tunnels are known tae wind for miles inland: gin ye put yer ear tae a stone i' the ground juist bi the crossroads near Scalcombe, sometimes ye can hear the most lovely music. But its' the eeriest ye iver heard, an' sae it wis aye said thon these were the pipers o' the faerie host. None darit tae inquire any further, or tae challenge their power, until the times o' Laird Erek's grandsire. Thare were a piper o' Galburn bi the name o' Iain MacGraw, an he wis held tae be the best piper i the north o' Thuland. He wis e'en callit once tae pipe at a feast yer Duke's grandsire held, an thon provit tae be his downfall.
"No at the feast, na. Thare, he playit tae the utmost o his soul, an he pleasit the Duke sae... a hearty an generous man like his grandson after him... thon he wis rewardit wi' aw thon he coud hold o meat an drink, an' a firkin o the Duke's best mead tae tak wi' him on the road. Well, he saw the bottom o' thon firkin barrel aboot the time he reachit hame an wis hailit as a hero once mair in all the taverns. It wis juist at the openin' blink o' midnicht thon the piper rose, fou o pride an usquebauch, an declarit he wis the best piper thon haed iver been upon heaven or in yird (he wis gettin' a wee bit mixit i his metaphors aboot then, ye see... ) "and e'en the pipers o' the faerie queen must give me place, for niver have they heard a braver tune than this!"an while his neichbors stood achast at his bold boast he strode forth for the cave mouth bi the shore, his wee broon spaniel dug wha haed been the faithful companion o aw his days at his heels; an he plungit intae the darkness wi his pipes boldly skirlin forth, 'The Nameless Tune'.
"The neichbors stood on the shore i' dismay as the west darkenit an the brave music slowly recedit intae the echoin' depths. It wis no long before the notes stoppit on a sudden, wi' a terrible eldritch screech thon drove aw the watchers tae flicht but ane. He tremblingly remainit where he coud juist see the dark cave mouth, hopin' against hope the piper micht emerge, but aw thon came slinkin forth, after whit seemit eternities o waiting, wis a lank whimperin four-leggit scarecrow. It wis the poor spaniel, but ivery hair on its body wis gone.
"An yet thon is no quite the last thon wis heard o' Iain MacGraw. A year later, on the eve o' Samhaintide, twa boumen from Scalcombe were returnin from market late ane evenin whan ane pausit bi the old crossroads i' amaze. 'Listen!', he cried, an pointit towards the piercit stone. An' as his partner stood wi' the chill mists o' the Cailleach turnin' his bluid tae ice, he heard the skirlin' rin o 'The Nameless Tune' playit frantic an wild, an the voice o the piper chantin i' a dull tone as o' ane nine parts asleep,
A dout, A dout
A'll niver win oot;
ochone, for ma endless sorrow."
As she ends her tale, the willowy Thulish sorceress artfully stretches and yawns. "I wonder whit time it is bi the moon. The licht's sae dim oot thare, it feels like thare's hours yet till dawn. I'll be richt back." Walking quickly the outer doors, she peers out, wondering privately whether she's following a corbie or a wild goose. She takes a route that keeps her as close to the suspects as possible, and returns promptly to rejoin Keenlen in his vigil over them if she doesn't see anything to be alarmed at in the courtyard. As she passes by the young men again on her way back, she glances them over to make sure they are all right.
=========
Performance (how enthralling a teller of chaist stories is our Famh?) 16
Perception (after rubbing the sleep out of her e'en, does she spot any signs of danger?) 8
Medicine (any obvious signs of death by freezing, lack of breath, etc etc?) 10
Keenen seemed to appreciate the story though she could tell he was a little puzzled as to why she was here, she spotted no danger or anything out of sorts.
Famh starts slightly as Thatchappears. She hasn't been picking things up as well tonight as she usually does ;-) and she is briefly uncertain whether this is her companion or some spirit that has chosen to appear in his form. She is somewhat reassured when she hears his voice inquiring what's going on, but for the moment she's not quite sure what to answer. The quizzical look she is sensing from Keenlen doesn't help her composure much either, and she stands blinking for a moment to readjust to the hall in several ways before she responds with a shrug. "Not quite sure at the moment. I may have led us oot here on a wild ghaist chase; the remainin' lads seem well enouch, thouch I'm nae leech. Well, for people anyhou ... juist as I'd bet ye know whit tae dae for the heaves or the staggers i' a horse; but 'twould puzzle either o' us tae cure Sir Almeric's head cauld gin he iver caucht ane."
An' I've juist been lookin' oot in the courtyard, an' thare's na sign o' the crofter girl's spirit thon I can see. The only other thing occurs tae me thon we coud dae, is gin we were tae set a watch without seemin tae set a watch. I mean, ane and then anither o' us coud juist happen tae come oot intae hall at intervals... tae find the garderobe or summat like thon... and tak' turns lak that 'til the morn. Or else wake thaim an have it oot wi thaim now while they're sleepy an aff balance. Our knicht's a Capellar, sae I'd think he micht know whit's the best technique i' a case like this." She looks out at the moonlit courtyard, imagining scenes of moonlit intrigue playing out in the faraway lands of the Taashim. "Would ye dae me a favor an' see gin he's up? Or at least gin ye coud wake him enouch tae see which course he'd prefer we tak."
Her eyes sparkle with sudden mischief as she adds, "And whan ye gae back tae the men's quarters, please tell Cainneach for me I'm sorry tae wake him sae early gin thare proves tae be na reason ... but at the same time it'll be guid practice for the times I'll be wakin' him at unexpected, ungodly hours o the nicht an morn after we're marriit." She pauses just long enough for the implications of her words to sink in before turning away with a merry giggle.
Vardi asks an odd question of Ori as she helps him into the rest of his battle array, decorously keeping her eyes on the fastenings and not the man as she speaks quietly.
"I know I'm in nae position ta be asking favors of ye after disturbin yer sleep, but tis important, even if it sounds daft ta yer ears. Do ye still have that bronze nail tha' was found amid all the prints in that mud when we were searching fer tha missing lass up ridge from tha farm?"
The wood is carpeted with fallen leaves and needles and thick growths of bracken, as they begin to descend Ori picks up a small piece of metal from the ground and holds it in his palm....a boot nail...
(First off, how in the world did you remember that detail, I surely didn't. Second I didn't say exactly what was done with the nail, though honestly Ori would have probably disregarded it after inspecting it. Though also fine with him shoving in into a pocket and forgetting about it.)
Standing with his arms out a bit so that Vardi would be able to manage the straps of his armor, flexing a bit to make the straps a little tighter and showing off a bit. He maybe the oldest of the lot short of possibly Almeric, but he was a show off at heart and he couldn't help be himself. It was no accident he mentioned Vardi as the one to help him with his armor, messing with Thatch by getting to do it was amusing but sometimes you got to change it up. Ori was stumped and taken by suprise at Vardis question about a nail. "What nail? OH you mean that old boot nail we found after finding the horse tracks? I probably tossed it off to the side of the path but if I kept it it woukd be in my packs side pouch, check there if you think it's important." Still slightly puzzled by the request he realized he stopped flexing as much, well there's another failed performance, I must be out of practice. "Well lets go see what kind of trouble Famh managed to stir up without us." He will grab his club and adjest his belt with armor now in place.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Hearing Ori's assent to being armoured up, Cainneach manages to pull both his gear together and his agitated hound away from Skoggi, then exits the room as quietly as he is able. Stifling a serious yawn, the forester leads Salt down the hallway to the stairs and makes his way out into the bitter cold of the night. Another yawn, though the exhalation of this one is accompanied by a cloud of fog. Cainneach shakes his head vigorously in an attempt to focus on whatever it was Famh wanted him to do. Right ... keep an eye on the next victims up, so to speak. After a moment of summoning to mind where they might be and honing in on Famh's voice as he approaches, the faithful forester and his hound take a post where he can best keep an eye on everyone and stay out of sight. He wraps his cloak tight to keep out the wind and absentmindedly pets Salt's shaggy head while maintaining a close eye on the surroundings. Salt sniffs the night air, trying to catch any interesting scents. He notes Thatch passing by and gives a silent nod of recognition to the talented scout.
Thatch relaxes a bit as no immediate danger appears to be present, but frowns as Famh mentions waking Sir Almeric. “I will check with the good sergeant first, if you don’t mind. There was some discussion about that as I was leaving, with us already being up and all, I don’t think there is much need, but I’ll let Ori sort that out.” His face reddens as he realizes the import of her last instruction to Cainneach, but nods. “And what will you be doing? Staying here I hope? I will be back with the others directly.”
Thatch returns to the room as the others are still getting ready. “For the love of the gods, we’d all be murdered waiting on you all to get dressed. Famh was outside the main hall, all appeared to be well with the lads for now.” He turns to Ori “She asked that we wake Sir Almeric to see if he wanted to question the lads now or in the morning, but I leave that to you. I thought that was already settled afore we went to sleep.”
He turns to Cainneach “She also said waking you up in the middle of the night was good practice…well, go an ask her what she said yourself.”Thatch stammers, face going red again.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Famh realizes ... just a little belatedly thanks to her sleeplessness-befogged mind ... that she really ought to give Keenlen some explanation for her lingering presence a little more solid than her love of ghaist tales. It would also be handy, she reflects, if it were one that allowed her to move about a bit until she is able to confer with the rest of her companions. She glances a little sheepishly at the grizzled watchman as she returns to warm her hands at the fire. "I'm sorry, I must seem terrible bold comin' oot here i' the early morn an' talking wi' ye like this whan we've no been introducit. But... well, I didnae like tae wake ma intended, he's haed such a hard journey lately. But I canna sleep for bein' troublit ower the rumours I''ve heard." She pauses and looks him in the eye, deciding that direct honesty might be more successful with this seasoned veteran.
"I hear ye saw a ghaist much more recently than the ane ye telt me o' juist now. And I fear it's a ghaist I ken. I niver saw her body, but I wis the ane climbit doun intae the well tae see gin I coud find her. And we aw fear these lads, an the twa thon deed afore we arrivit, know more o' her death than they're lettin' on. But... as I've said, I dinnae know gin they deserve a death as terrible as thon, e'en so. And I'm fearin' the lass wonae want tae leave any witnesses alive either. Spirits arenae known tae like tae dae thon, i' general." Even as she speaks she begins to pace restlesstly back and forth, glancing about for any signs of approach, either of the spirit or of her friends.
=========.
Persuasion (to get Keenlen to fully trust her and open up more about this PARTICULAR ghaist) 14
Perception (to notice that darlin' wisp o' breath at the edge of the main hall and perhaps guess to whom it belongs ;;;) 9
Famh starts slightly as Thatchappears. She hasn't been picking things up as well tonight as she usually does ;-) and she is briefly uncertain whether this is her companion or some spirit that has chosen to appear in his form. She is somewhat reassured when she hears his voice inquiring what's going on, but for the moment she's not quite sure what to answer. The quizzical look she is sensing from Keenlen doesn't help her composure much either, and she stands blinking for a moment to readjust to the hall in several ways before she responds with a shrug. "Not quite sure at the moment. I may have led us oot here on a wild ghaist chase; the remainin' lads seem well enouch, thouch I'm nae leech. Well, for people anyhou ... juist as I'd bet ye know whit tae dae for the heaves or the staggers i' a horse; but 'twould puzzle either o' us tae cure Sir Almeric's head cauld gin he iver caucht ane."
An' I've juist been lookin' oot in the courtyard, an' thare's na sign o' the crofter girl's spirit thon I can see. The only other thing occurs tae me thon we coud dae, is gin we were tae set a watch without seemin tae set a watch. I mean, ane and then anither o' us coud juist happen tae come oot intae hall at intervals... tae find the garderobe or summat like thon... and tak' turns lak that 'til the morn. Or else wake thaim an have it oot wi thaim now while they're sleepy an aff balance. Our knicht's a Capellar, sae I'd think he micht know whit's the best technique i' a case like this." She looks out at the moonlit courtyard, imagining scenes of moonlit intrigue playing out in the faraway lands of the Taashim. "Would ye dae me a favor an' see gin he's up? Or at least gin ye coud wake him enouch tae see which course he'd prefer we tak."
Her eyes sparkle with sudden mischief as she adds, "And whan ye gae back tae the men's quarters, please tell Cainneach for me I'm sorry tae wake him sae early gin thare proves tae be na reason ... but at the same time it'll be guid practice for the times I'll be wakin' him at unexpected, ungodly hours o the nicht an morn after we're marriit." She pauses just long enough for the implications of her words to sink in before turning away with a merry giggle.
Vardi asks an odd question of Ori as she helps him into the rest of his battle array, decorously keeping her eyes on the fastenings and not the man as she speaks quietly.
"I know I'm in nae position ta be asking favors of ye after disturbin yer sleep, but tis important, even if it sounds daft ta yer ears. Do ye still have that bronze nail tha' was found amid all the prints in that mud when we were searching fer tha missing lass up ridge from tha farm?"
The wood is carpeted with fallen leaves and needles and thick growths of bracken, as they begin to descend Ori picks up a small piece of metal from the ground and holds it in his palm....a boot nail...
(First off, how in the world did you remember that detail, I surely didn't. Second I didn't say exactly what was done with the nail, though honestly Ori would have probably disregarded it after inspecting it. Though also fine with him shoving in into a pocket and forgetting about it.)
Standing with his arms out a bit so that Vardi would be able to manage the straps of his armor, flexing a bit to make the straps a little tighter and showing off a bit. He maybe the oldest of the lot short of possibly Almeric, but he was a show off at heart and he couldn't help be himself. It was no accident he mentioned Vardi as the one to help him with his armor, messing with Thatch by getting to do it was amusing but sometimes you got to change it up. Ori was stumped and taken by suprise at Vardis question about a nail. "What nail? OH you mean that old boot nail we found after finding the horse tracks? I probably tossed it off to the side of the path but if I kept it it woukd be in my packs side pouch, check there if you think it's important." Still slightly puzzled by the request he realized he stopped flexing as much, well there's another failed performance, I must be out of practice. "Well lets go see what kind of trouble Famh managed to stir up without us." He will grab his club and adjest his belt with armor now in place.
Vardi checks the pouch and finds the nail is indeed there, discarded and dirty....
Hearing Ori's assent to being armoured up, Cainneach manages to pull both his gear together and his agitated hound away from Skoggi, then exits the room as quietly as he is able. Stifling a serious yawn, the forester leads Salt down the hallway to the stairs and makes his way out into the bitter cold of the night. Another yawn, though the exhalation of this one is accompanied by a cloud of fog. Cainneach shakes his head vigorously in an attempt to focus on whatever it was Famh wanted him to do. Right ... keep an eye on the next victims up, so to speak. After a moment of summoning to mind where they might be and honing in on Famh's voice as he approaches, the faithful forester and his hound take a post where he can best keep an eye on everyone and stay out of sight. He wraps his cloak tight to keep out the wind and absentmindedly pets Salt's shaggy head while maintaining a close eye on the surroundings. Salt sniffs the night air, trying to catch any interesting scents. He notes Thatch passing by and gives a silent nod of recognition to the talented scout.
Thatch relaxes a bit as no immediate danger appears to be present, but frowns as Famh mentions waking Sir Almeric. “I will check with the good sergeant first, if you don’t mind. There was some discussion about that as I was leaving, with us already being up and all, I don’t think there is much need, but I’ll let Ori sort that out.” His face reddens as he realizes the import of her last instruction to Cainneach, but nods. “And what will you be doing? Staying here I hope? I will be back with the others directly.”
Thatch returns to the room as the others are still getting ready. “For the love of the gods, we’d all be murdered waiting on you all to get dressed. Famh was outside the main hall, all appeared to be well with the lads for now.” He turns to Ori “She asked that we wake Sir Almeric to see if he wanted to question the lads now or in the morning, but I leave that to you. I thought that was already settled afore we went to sleep.”
He turns to Cainneach “She also said waking you up in the middle of the night was good practice…well, go an ask her what she said yourself.”Thatch stammers, face going red again.
Cainneach received Thatchs message on his way downstairs and muses it over in the shadows of the courtyard, Ori has to consider now whether to wake Almeric or nay.....
Famh realizes ... just a little belatedly thanks to her sleeplessness-befogged mind ... that she really ought to give Keenlen some explanation for her lingering presence a little more solid than her love of ghaist tales. It would also be handy, she reflects, if it were one that allowed her to move about a bit until she is able to confer with the rest of her companions. She glances a little sheepishly at the grizzled watchman as she returns to warm her hands at the fire. "I'm sorry, I must seem terrible bold comin' oot here i' the early morn an' talking wi' ye like this whan we've no been introducit. But... well, I didnae like tae wake ma intended, he's haed such a hard journey lately. But I canna sleep for bein' troublit ower the rumours I''ve heard." She pauses and looks him in the eye, deciding that direct honesty might be more successful with this seasoned veteran.
"I hear ye saw a ghaist much more recently than the ane ye telt me o' juist now. And I fear it's a ghaist I ken. I niver saw her body, but I wis the ane climbit doun intae the well tae see gin I coud find her. And we aw fear these lads, an the twa thon deed afore we arrivit, know more o' her death than they're lettin' on. But... as I've said, I dinnae know gin they deserve a death as terrible as thon, e'en so. And I'm fearin' the lass wonae want tae leave any witnesses alive either. Spirits arenae known tae like tae dae thon, i' general." Even as she speaks she begins to pace restlesstly back and forth, glancing about for any signs of approach, either of the spirit or of her friends.
=========.
Persuasion (to get Keenlen to fully trust her and open up more about this PARTICULAR ghaist) 14
Perception (to notice that darlin' wisp o' breath at the edge of the main hall and perhaps guess to whom it belongs ;;;) 13
Famh can see no sign of the shadow that is Cainneach but Salt comes forward to lie down beside the Sheriffs hounds and perhaps swap stories of the weird things two legs get up to after dark....
Keenen regards Famh for a moment, then seems to come to a decision, " Ay, I spied the wee thing she was coming cross the open ground towards the manor, her hair was dark and plastered down about her...her skin pale as the moon and her clothes wet and dripping.....she made nary a sound and was gone again as quickly as I looked."
" But you know summit of this haint?"
He spat on the stones towards the two sleeping young men, " If'n they did as yer hinting she can take ém for all I care. I've three dochter meself."
"Wake him, aye? No trouble and nobody following the sir's orders of getting rest. You clearly needed to sleep longer. Almeric expects us all to be ready to go in the morning, let alone bugging him in the blasted middle of the night, for what? Bad enough you bothered Salts beauty sleep." Ori looks around a bit, honestly not sure what to do. If they watch over the suspected next victims they will never get rested but if they don't keep watch they will never have a chance to stop what would be coming. "And where in hell did Famh want to meet up? Lets go find her and put this nonsense to bed so something can get some rest tonight, aye." Ori chooses to leave the club behind this time, for fear it looking too suspicious walking around at this hour armored and weapon drawn, not that he could put it away anywhere, hand axes tonight.
OOC: Thank you! Vardi's a smith so it was the sort of thing that sticks in a smith's memory. :)
Ori: "What nail? OH you mean that old boot nail we found after finding the horse tracks? I probably tossed it off to the side of the path but if I kept it it woukd be in my packs side pouch, check there if you think it's important."
Vardi tightens then calmly loosens the strap she's buckling, taking into account that Ori is sensibly stretching before a hunt as she does so, then answers "I am most glad if ye did. Bronze be older than iron in fixing one thing ta 'nother. Nae harm ta one o tha fair folk's line either."then in an apologetic tone "Nae ma task ta riddle out visions and dreams, tha' talent was nae ma lot in life, even if I did listen ta wha'ere was told ta me of it by those who did, like ma mam, thinking it would be. I am nae mage-wise or cunning woman by trade either, but I am very nearly a proper smith."
She smiles as she fastens the last buckle and concludes "Nails have a power to them, tha' I know. Fastening things in place, aye?"
The Lyften lass offers "If tha tales I have been told of are true, a nail o'iron can make tha formless take shape ta be grasped by mortal grip. Bronze afore iron, and thorns of wood afore tha'. Girl vanished from an ancient place. May need ancient means ta hold her fast afore she visits again, be she a restless shade or a shadowlife in vengeance...Aha!"
Vardi draws forth the battered and muddy bronze nail forth with an air of triumph and murmurs "Tha's one. Only two now ta find."
Ori: "Well lets go see what kind of trouble Famh managed to stir up without us."
"Fair's fair sarge! If anyone stirred her up, was..."Vardi protests then shrugs as she continues in a more mannerly tone "Well, tha culprit's standing in front of ye now if yer still looking ta tear them a new one fer their foolishness."
Her defiant hands on hip and hammer stance are at war with the polite tone of her words, but they are honestly spoken for all that.
Ori: "And where in hell did Famh want to meet up? Lets go find her and put this nonsense to bed so something can get some rest tonight, aye."
"Aye Ser!" the Joturn-kin responds smartly, but hunkers down a moment to ask Thach a slightly less odd question in some urgency "Thatch, would ye happen ta have a horseshoe nail on ye I could borrow? I've been told tha' horse-wise folk often keep one about them."
Famh can see no sign of the shadow that is Cainneach but Salt comes forward to lie down beside the Sheriffs hounds and perhaps swap stories of the weird things two legs get up to after dark....
Keenen regards Famh for a moment, then seems to come to a decision, " Ay, I spied the wee thing she was coming cross the open ground towards the manor, her hair was dark and plastered down about her...her skin pale as the moon and her clothes wet and dripping.....she made nary a sound and was gone again as quickly as I looked."
" But you know summit of this haint?"
He spat on the stones towards the two sleeping young men, " If'n they did as yer hinting she can take ém for all I care. I've three dochter meself."
Famh smiles as she catches a glimpse of Salt, knowing that the faithful deerhound would not likely be out of the men's quarters unless Cainneach were too. But her look of quick reassurance congeals into something far grimmer at Keenlen's final words. She nods slowly, her face still; her expression sharply present and yet somehow very far away. "I can understand hou ye feel, A think. I once haed a little sis... " Then she breaks off with a sudden catch of her breath, as if she'd been surprised into revealing more than she'd intended. After a few deep breaths she goes on. "That's been weiching on me. But on the other side o' the brae, I get the feeling thon gin she'd been the victim here it wad weich on her tae dee sae poor an unknown, e'en gin she did avenge herself naebody wad ken it. She'd want public justice sae aw wad ken thon e'en her life mattered; an sae the rich lordlings wad ken thon e'en their wealth canna aye buy their way oot o' gallows gin they hurt any other lass in future. I'm juist torn ..."
She falls into a moody silence before wanly smiling again, glancing over at the hounds once more as if she just noticed the addition to their number. "Weel, it seems ma intended's hound wis a wee bit bolder than I'd venture tae be aboot waking him. Nae tellin' such a fine dug tae wait till sun's risen ... or any other dug for thon matter. I'd best gae an' reassure him I've no gone wholly gyte risin' this early. Thank ye sae much for talkin' wi' me... an for trusting me sae." With a final smile and nod she heads towards the shadowy corner whence Salt emerged.
He turns to Cainneach “She also said waking you up in the middle of the night was good practice…well, go an ask her what she said yourself.”Thatch stammers, face going red again.
Cainneach's responds silently with a quizzical expression, unsure what to make of Thatch's message and deep blush. A few moments after Thatch departs, a thought comes to his mind and Cainneach's face becomes similarly flushed. He curses his beloved under his breath, for making such sport of the trustworthy scout. However, any displeasure is tempered by that now decidedly pleasant thought that lingers hazily. The forester turns toward the location of Famh's voice, straining to catch a glimpse of the mischievous girl.
Famh can see no sign of the shadow that is Cainneach but Salt comes forward to lie down beside the Sheriffs hounds and perhaps swap stories of the weird things two legs get up to after dark....
Salt pulls restlessly at Cainneach's hand and starts to whimper. Following the direction of his Salt's gaze, Cainneach can make out the Sheriff's hounds. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he gives Salt a few more pats and whispers, "Be on your best behaviour now!", and lets the young hound go. Better to let him go before he starts making too much of a racket.
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The others ( Ori, Vardi ( and feline accomplice) and Thatch arrive down stairs just as Famh is exiting the hall, Thatch having turned back around once again and his eyes being the only ones to pierce the shadows and find Cainneach lying in wait outside the main doors.....though Famh knows he is there she has trouble locating her fiancee in the darkness......
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Famh is in a sombre mood as she approaches the shadows in which she hopes her beloved is enveloped. The memories that came back to her just now are too fresh and painfully startling to be looked at directly … at least for the moment; but they have set the tone for her current train of musings. Her mind jumps instead to her recentconversation with Cainneach about the immediate future the Dayne retinue faces. And even if this is a future that includes the absolute certainty of seasickness aboard the Linden for however long that craft takes to beat back to Port Clyster against whatever late winter winds the Mergeld coast might throw in their way on a journey south (Nature 11[to predict how likely headwinds are at this time of year]), and a fairly large degree of uncertainty as to when a wedding of its two Thulish members can be arranged, the chain of reflection has her suddenly very solicitous about their future together. And with the terrible battle against Fingal MacTethra fresh in the minds of all … even if one leaves out a ghaist appearing immediately afterwards to emphasize the point … she cannot but be aware that although the Dayne retinue probably provides the best place for them to pursue their destinies together, it also provides a way of life and a web of duties in which there is no guarantee of survival for either Cainneach or herself.
As far as those last two points go she is naturally of two totally contradictory points of mind . Re. the potential death of her beloved, she has now had enough seasoning facing danger with him to not completely break down in hysterics and be useless for the next three days at the bare thought. In fact, in a curious way she finds this the simpler of the two horrible though thankfully remote possibilities she is musing about how to deal with. Because there really is nothing to be worked out. If Cainneach dies, so will she. It will happen like it does in the tales, on the battlefield where he falls, at the bare anguish of seeing his death. If by some misbegotten twist of accursed luck it shouldn't happen so, of course he needn't fret about her taking her own life or anything silly like that. Because of course she won't need to. She'll have pined and died in a satisfactorily brief while anyhow.
If, on the other hand. she should fall, ... Well, he'd trusted her enough now in their more intimate moments together that she had some vague intuition of the terrible desolation that had fallen over him when his mentor Dru died; and she never wanted such an agony on his soul again ESPECIALLY for her ... but she couldn't bear to think of his dying either, just in case the terrible people who had thrown stones at her were right after all and faeries really DIDN'T have souls beyond this world which meant --
She'd find some way to stay with him. She must. Dead or alive, she'd find some way to comfort him, she'd whisper endearments to him in the evening breeze, she'd gaze lovingly upon him from the e'en of his also beloved beasts. And of course, she would do all that was in her power to make sure it never came to that awful day for either of them. And whatever was not in her power, for her darling Cainneach she'd do that too. But she knew enough now of the depths of his love for her to know that if she shouldfall whispers in the breeze would not be enough. Their hearts were as truly bound as Naoise and Diedre's in her cherished legends; he needed her living presence or that of the child their love might someday kindle; or someone with a tie of blood that close at the least ...
... and again the memory returns to her mind. Her voice, her young-lass voice, echoing and calling among the fae-haunted hillocks around The Black Lake and Balordael Muir just outside Scalcombe’s charmed circle of certainty; calling with increasing despair a single name through what seemed like endless leaden-lighted early evenings a month and a half after All Souls’ Eve and then returning to weep with her mother over their draught-bedeviled peat fireside in their draught-bedeviled half-tumbledown ruin of a dairymaid's cot that the remnants of charity had bestowed on her mother after the faerie knight ravished her away and Brither Cadfael brought her back pregnant with Famh. It came back to her now, curling around her mind like a summons fron the unquiet past and its never resting debts of responsibility.
"Rhiannon!!!! ...
... ... ...
Rhiannon !!!!!! ....
...... ...... ...... ......
RHIANNON !!!!!!!!! ...... "
......... ...... ...
She is also much more mature than she might once have been in broaching the subject to Cainneach in a way that she hopes won't inadvertently stir his pain as she once had. It doesn't occur to her, perhaps, that she is becoming perhaps a little predictable in having these little talks with Cainneach after either a meal or a night in travelers’ quarters. Nor does it dawn on her that perhaps Cainneach has picked up this pattern and may be beginning to experience a slight lurch in his stomach whenever she approaches him at these times with that certain look in her e'en. She is aware enough of the magnitude of what she has to tell him that she makes certain to lead up to it with ... for Famh ... slow and measured steps. She begins with a reassuring smile as she homes in on his familiar scent of pine and moss and dew-moistened hound until she is close enough for her faerie sight to pierce the shadows and make out his beloved face.
"Weel, naucht’s happit tae the twa lads yet, sae the corbie I thoucht I wis chasin’ micht prove a wild ghaist after aw. We’ll likely ha’ the delichtful duty o' escortin thaim tae the Duke for judgement after aw, gin we can prove our case agin thaim. And then we’ll set sail for … weel, I suppose we can call it hame sae lang as we’re in the service o’ Sir Almeric an' he o’ the Baron.”
“But I wis but teasin' before whan I said the main thin we'd won bi beating Fingal MacTethra wis a pleasure cruise doon the lovely coast o' Thuland i' late winter. I'm proud o ye and the way ye foucht, leannan, as I've said before. But thon doesnae mean I'm na proud o' Thatch wha shot bi yer side ... e'en if I do lak tae tease him a wee bit frae time tae time ... ; nor any o' us. We cam' together in battle as a retinue i a way we've no done e'en whan we facit the peril o' our lives i' Karvala's tower before. And I ken ye're proud o' me, thouch the faerie glamour thon let me flit frae place tae place wis nane o' ma weavin'. It felt like the other times I wis callin' on another spell an summaucht else happenit thon wis strange an fey... ma soul touchit the wild heart o' the Guid People, as it were.”
If he receives this preamble without showing too many signs of alarm, Famh will go on. ”It wis a gift o the breeze o Tir na' n'Og thouch, a ghraidh; I canna rely upon it comin tae pass again any mair than I can know for certain it wonae. And I dae ken ye worry aboot me whan it comes doon tae battle breakin' oot; an I'v been iver sae slow aboot makin' myself a paddit jack like the levies wear whan their laird wants thaim tae shoot i formation... 'licht archers', I think they call thaim? ... but I promise it straicht aff as soon as we come tae where I can get the linen an other things I'll neit tae make it. Unless ye happen tae have noticit ane i' the markets o' Marrowglen or thase back i' Carnasse? I startit thinkin on it whan we were shoppin' thare, the afternoon o' the Duke's banquet, but I wis... a little distractit theb, shall we say?" She winks fondly at him, then takes a deep breath.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I'm startin' tae worrit an ramble, its juist that thon terrible battle wi' the fachan has remindit me we baith swore tae keep ilka other safe. And then tae come upon a ghaist here instead o’ the quiet bit o investigation we were plannin on … e’en gin it is a ghaist we rather sympathize wi’... " Another deep breath follows; then, if Cainneach has not yet either run for the local herbwife or become so upset it would break her heart to continue, she reaches her peroration. “But anyhou, I've been thinkin o' whit micht have happened, an it's remindit me o' the uncertainty o' mortal affairs. And gin aucht horrible shoud happen, well, I dinnae like tae think o't but I'd certainly want tae ken any last wants ye micht have sae I coud see they got done for the restin' o' yer soul i whitver paradise Morkaan grantit ye. An' I ken ye'd want tae ken mine, which is simple syne aside frae ye an the retinue I have but ane tie i' this world... maybe... an I'v nae seen her sin' the days I wis a wee lass sae thon I'd near forgotten her. And it's na juist the battle wi' Fingal an the fear an pity o’ Morag’s ghaist thon's broucht back the memory, but rememberin' yer kynd words thon time I first telt ye A lovit ye... thon ye wad gae wi' me back tae Brymstone an find the...an search for ma faerie father.”
“Ye see, I haed a wee baby sister too, for twenty-six bricht months whan I were seven. I think, rememberin' back now, thon maybe ane or twa o the stout farm lads aboot Brymstone were nae sae fearit o the faerie witch... as the kintra folk an' crofters were beginnin' tae call ma mother bi then... as they let on tae be whan others were aboot. And it explains why we were na driven oot until I startit tae grow tae ma womanhood an ma mother startit tae grow auld i' hers. The lads I'm thinkin' on niver treatit me ill; an aw haed deed or passit on tae another part o' the townlands ere thon happenit. An the first tae vanish did sae a little after ma sister disappearit... or tae be more precise, after it wis kennt ma sister haed disappearit, an a babe left i' her stead thon niver throve nor grew until it becam' sae obvious it wis nae mortal we haed nae choice but tae see whit she wis. It tuk the auld herbwife, Brither Cadfael 's maiden aunt, an' Brither Cadfael himsel' fifteen hours tae banish the changelin babe... they did it at last bi a brewery o' eggshells... an' then -- this wis on Samhain eve they took her, an frae a little before Yule whan it wis discoverit tae Imbolc I went callin' ma sister Rhiannon ower aw the braes an hilltops aboot the faerie rath thon looks towards Brymstone frae the muir juist north o' the settlit townlands . But I niver found her; an I dinna ken gin she lives or na, or hou old she is gin sae. Time flows differently i the rath an' the Shi, they say.” She is suddenly very earnest, and gazes deep into Cainneach's e'en.
"Cainneach. Ma ghraid leannan. Promise me ane thin. I ken it's a horrible thin tae think aboot, but gin.. but gin bi some terrible mischance aucht shoud hap tae me, promise me ye'll no e'en think aboot comin' tae join me i the Summerlands until ye've done aw ye can tae find ma sister an see tae it she's safe an weel." Whether it is their mutual love or some strange gift of the faerie bards that has descended upon Famh, for a moment Cainneach sees in his mind the dreamlike image of a young girl at once like and unlike the fiery half-fae sorceress who has enchanted his heart beyond hope of charm or counterspell.
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Almost as an afterthought Famh adds, “Oh, sin’ i’ve wakenit us aw anyhou we micht want tae talk aboot a plan for checkin on the lads frae time tae time for the rest o’ the nicht, takin’ it i turns sae the rest can gae back tae sleep.” She lowers her voice. “I oucht tae ha’ suggestit it ere we went tae sleep the first time, but I didnae ken then thon Keenlen were a father. He’s tauld me juist now thon he’s half temptit tae juist let the chaist ha’ thaim whene’er he thinks on his three dauchters.”
Explanatory map to the recent post and to various cognate Famhblings about her birthplace (with all gratitude to the Cobwebbed Forest website):
(I’d imagine that unless the Linden passed within the straits of Inis Manister on its way past this place {it’s between the lands of Baron Aldred and Duke Carnasse on the Mergeld coast}, only Famh would have seen more of this than the city itself and perhaps the outlines of Kyene and Sanmarl. But the e’e of memory is sharp, as they say …
I’ve been imagining her as born in or near the farmhouse in between Scalcombe and Cradoc’s Ford, between the river and road; though lately I’m wondering if even that’s a little close to the Laird’s hall for a person of her description and class … perhaps one of those west of the Ford instead, out on the moor near that ancient stone circle?
===
Also, some more possibilities the OpenAI site generated for Rhiannon:
(um, actually if they're all going to turn out this big I don't want to hog up the game thread space with this, I think I'll make a separate message thread instead and edit in the link to it ...here... when done)
Ori, still shaking off the tiredness that had kept him solidly sleeping before, sees a very calm situation in front of him. "Please someone be a good chap and remind me why I am awake at this hour and nobody is dying?" Voice getting a bit more harsh as he spoke. He really was tired it seems. Big fun loving guy gone for the moment but this is what he had expected to, and really was hoping to see. "Someone else is watching over the lads? Then why are we? Almeric wants us rested and recharged by morning and this is not how you do it last I checked. We have no proof of foul doings by those lads otherwise we would have delt with them before. We don't know who or what is behind what's going on. So what is it going to take to get you to all get some rest as we all requested beforehand to do?" Slightly irritated by the situation but this crew worked well on gut instincts and following hunches that he didn't want to discourage them from doing what they felt was the right call, or not including him.
Thatch gives Vardi a puzzled look, not expecting a question like that at this time. “A nail? ‘‘Tis a chance, but I’ve not had the occasion to shoe in some time, let me see what I can find.” He digs through the pouch at his side, rummaging for a moment before pulling out the requested nail, face lit up like he found a prize. “Here you go, but what will you be needing it for?”
The chill of the evening has set in and it only grows colder as the time marches towards morning......a foxes scream echoes over the moorlands and one of the gate guards coughs heartily into his hands, not wanting to waste the warmth.
Within the hall only Keenen still sits upright and awake, staring into space then scanning the walls before returning.....
Cainneach watches as Famh approaches, not moving or making a sound. He initially hopes to suprise her with a quick kiss, as it wasn't clear if the highland lass had spotted him in his obscured post. However, the forester notes that certain determination in her stride, can instinctively tell that she is seeking him out and has something pressing on her mind. Cainneach wonders if she might have some pressing news on the phantom girl or the marked ne'er-do-wells who likely offed her, for he could only catch snippets of her conversation with Keenlen.
While Cainneach expects the earnest and rambling telling of her tale, he certainly doesn't anticipate the ultimate thrust of it, the revelation of a sister and a request from his beloved to seek this mysterious girl out in the event that Famh should pass from life to the unknown beyond. He knows by now to let Famh work through her story fully before making any response, though it raises so many emotions and questions in the telling. Throughout, he carefully observes her lovely face, attempting to perceive her true state of mind, ready to hold her, protect and calm her should she falter. There is no need, however, as Famh remains steady and Cainneach returns her loving gaze. He takes her hands while she speaks, then pulls her close, embracing her. He whispers into her ear.
"Famh, if it comes to it, and I cannot say it, for I dare not even think it ... Of course, I'll carry out your wish, but wouldn't it be best to seek out your sister while you're still here ... we have to venture to meet your other ... family, should we not start the search with them? I want to take this journey with you, as I've told you before, for I know too deeply the pain of lost family. Salt and I are faithful to you, to the very last breath we draw, and we can surely find her. As soon as we can seek our leave of these duties, when whatever service we owe is fulfilled, we'll go and meet your sister, I swear it."
As he finishes his response, Cainneach kisses her gently on the neck and takes a moment to compose himself. On the subject of taking watch, the forester tries to muster what remaining energy he has and offers, "You get some rest for now, I'll keep an eye on them. I'll wake you in a few hours. I love you."
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Thatch stretches and yawns as Vardi helps Ori with his armor, but as she mentions a scout, he stifles another yawn and nods “I’ll go and check on Famh and the others as you slowfolk start moving. Shake a leg now.” Thatch heads out of the room and races to the main hall.
He runs into Famh as she appears to be leaving it. “What’s going on? Are the lads still alive? Vardi came in like she saw the shade of the girl herself.” Thatch cranes his neck, trying to peer beyond Famh into the room. “The others are on the way, how can we help?”
Keenen seemed to appreciate the story though she could tell he was a little puzzled as to why she was here, she spotted no danger or anything out of sorts.
Famh starts slightly as Thatch appears. She hasn't been picking things up as well tonight as she usually does ;-) and she is briefly uncertain whether this is her companion or some spirit that has chosen to appear in his form. She is somewhat reassured when she hears his voice inquiring what's going on, but for the moment she's not quite sure what to answer. The quizzical look she is sensing from Keenlen doesn't help her composure much either, and she stands blinking for a moment to readjust to the hall in several ways before she responds with a shrug. "Not quite sure at the moment. I may have led us oot here on a wild ghaist chase; the remainin' lads seem well enouch, thouch I'm nae leech. Well, for people anyhou ... juist as I'd bet ye know whit tae dae for the heaves or the staggers i' a horse; but 'twould puzzle either o' us tae cure Sir Almeric's head cauld gin he iver caucht ane."
An' I've juist been lookin' oot in the courtyard, an' thare's na sign o' the crofter girl's spirit thon I can see. The only other thing occurs tae me thon we coud dae, is gin we were tae set a watch without seemin tae set a watch. I mean, ane and then anither o' us coud juist happen tae come oot intae hall at intervals... tae find the garderobe or summat like thon... and tak' turns lak that 'til the morn. Or else wake thaim an have it oot wi thaim now while they're sleepy an aff balance. Our knicht's a Capellar, sae I'd think he micht know whit's the best technique i' a case like this." She looks out at the moonlit courtyard, imagining scenes of moonlit intrigue playing out in the faraway lands of the Taashim. "Would ye dae me a favor an' see gin he's up? Or at least gin ye coud wake him enouch tae see which course he'd prefer we tak."
Her eyes sparkle with sudden mischief as she adds, "And whan ye gae back tae the men's quarters, please tell Cainneach for me I'm sorry tae wake him sae early gin thare proves tae be na reason ... but at the same time it'll be guid practice for the times I'll be wakin' him at unexpected, ungodly hours o the nicht an morn after we're marriit." She pauses just long enough for the implications of her words to sink in before turning away with a merry giggle.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Vardi asks an odd question of Ori as she helps him into the rest of his battle array, decorously keeping her eyes on the fastenings and not the man as she speaks quietly.
"I know I'm in nae position ta be asking favors of ye after disturbin yer sleep, but tis important, even if it sounds daft ta yer ears. Do ye still have that bronze nail tha' was found amid all the prints in that mud when we were searching fer tha missing lass up ridge from tha farm?"
(First off, how in the world did you remember that detail, I surely didn't. Second I didn't say exactly what was done with the nail, though honestly Ori would have probably disregarded it after inspecting it. Though also fine with him shoving in into a pocket and forgetting about it.)
Standing with his arms out a bit so that Vardi would be able to manage the straps of his armor, flexing a bit to make the straps a little tighter and showing off a bit. He maybe the oldest of the lot short of possibly Almeric, but he was a show off at heart and he couldn't help be himself. It was no accident he mentioned Vardi as the one to help him with his armor, messing with Thatch by getting to do it was amusing but sometimes you got to change it up. Ori was stumped and taken by suprise at Vardis question about a nail. "What nail? OH you mean that old boot nail we found after finding the horse tracks? I probably tossed it off to the side of the path but if I kept it it woukd be in my packs side pouch, check there if you think it's important." Still slightly puzzled by the request he realized he stopped flexing as much, well there's another failed performance, I must be out of practice. "Well lets go see what kind of trouble Famh managed to stir up without us." He will grab his club and adjest his belt with armor now in place.
Hearing Ori's assent to being armoured up, Cainneach manages to pull both his gear together and his agitated hound away from Skoggi, then exits the room as quietly as he is able. Stifling a serious yawn, the forester leads Salt down the hallway to the stairs and makes his way out into the bitter cold of the night. Another yawn, though the exhalation of this one is accompanied by a cloud of fog. Cainneach shakes his head vigorously in an attempt to focus on whatever it was Famh wanted him to do. Right ... keep an eye on the next victims up, so to speak. After a moment of summoning to mind where they might be and honing in on Famh's voice as he approaches, the faithful forester and his hound take a post where he can best keep an eye on everyone and stay out of sight. He wraps his cloak tight to keep out the wind and absentmindedly pets Salt's shaggy head while maintaining a close eye on the surroundings. Salt sniffs the night air, trying to catch any interesting scents. He notes Thatch passing by and gives a silent nod of recognition to the talented scout.
Perception 25
Salt - Perception 18 (super sniffer)
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Thatch relaxes a bit as no immediate danger appears to be present, but frowns as Famh mentions waking Sir Almeric. “I will check with the good sergeant first, if you don’t mind. There was some discussion about that as I was leaving, with us already being up and all, I don’t think there is much need, but I’ll let Ori sort that out.” His face reddens as he realizes the import of her last instruction to Cainneach, but nods. “And what will you be doing? Staying here I hope? I will be back with the others directly.”
Thatch returns to the room as the others are still getting ready. “For the love of the gods, we’d all be murdered waiting on you all to get dressed. Famh was outside the main hall, all appeared to be well with the lads for now.” He turns to Ori “She asked that we wake Sir Almeric to see if he wanted to question the lads now or in the morning, but I leave that to you. I thought that was already settled afore we went to sleep.”
He turns to Cainneach “She also said waking you up in the middle of the night was good practice…well, go an ask her what she said yourself.” Thatch stammers, face going red again.
Famh realizes ... just a little belatedly thanks to her sleeplessness-befogged mind ... that she really ought to give Keenlen some explanation for her lingering presence a little more solid than her love of ghaist tales. It would also be handy, she reflects, if it were one that allowed her to move about a bit until she is able to confer with the rest of her companions. She glances a little sheepishly at the grizzled watchman as she returns to warm her hands at the fire. "I'm sorry, I must seem terrible bold comin' oot here i' the early morn an' talking wi' ye like this whan we've no been introducit. But... well, I didnae like tae wake ma intended, he's haed such a hard journey lately. But I canna sleep for bein' troublit ower the rumours I''ve heard." She pauses and looks him in the eye, deciding that direct honesty might be more successful with this seasoned veteran.
"I hear ye saw a ghaist much more recently than the ane ye telt me o' juist now. And I fear it's a ghaist I ken. I niver saw her body, but I wis the ane climbit doun intae the well tae see gin I coud find her. And we aw fear these lads, an the twa thon deed afore we arrivit, know more o' her death than they're lettin' on. But... as I've said, I dinnae know gin they deserve a death as terrible as thon, e'en so. And I'm fearin' the lass wonae want tae leave any witnesses alive either. Spirits arenae known tae like tae dae thon, i' general." Even as she speaks she begins to pace restlesstly back and forth, glancing about for any signs of approach, either of the spirit or of her friends.
=========.
Persuasion (to get Keenlen to fully trust her and open up more about this PARTICULAR ghaist) 14
Perception (to notice that darlin' wisp o' breath at the edge of the main hall and perhaps guess to whom it belongs ;;;) 9
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Vardi checks the pouch and finds the nail is indeed there, discarded and dirty....
Cainneachs keen senses catch no sight of any spirits though he does hear those at the manor gate swapping ghost stories as they sit their watch.....
Cainneach received Thatchs message on his way downstairs and muses it over in the shadows of the courtyard, Ori has to consider now whether to wake Almeric or nay.....
Famh can see no sign of the shadow that is Cainneach but Salt comes forward to lie down beside the Sheriffs hounds and perhaps swap stories of the weird things two legs get up to after dark....
Keenen regards Famh for a moment, then seems to come to a decision, " Ay, I spied the wee thing she was coming cross the open ground towards the manor, her hair was dark and plastered down about her...her skin pale as the moon and her clothes wet and dripping.....she made nary a sound and was gone again as quickly as I looked."
" But you know summit of this haint?"
He spat on the stones towards the two sleeping young men, " If'n they did as yer hinting she can take ém for all I care. I've three dochter meself."
"Wake him, aye? No trouble and nobody following the sir's orders of getting rest. You clearly needed to sleep longer. Almeric expects us all to be ready to go in the morning, let alone bugging him in the blasted middle of the night, for what? Bad enough you bothered Salts beauty sleep." Ori looks around a bit, honestly not sure what to do. If they watch over the suspected next victims they will never get rested but if they don't keep watch they will never have a chance to stop what would be coming. "And where in hell did Famh want to meet up? Lets go find her and put this nonsense to bed so something can get some rest tonight, aye." Ori chooses to leave the club behind this time, for fear it looking too suspicious walking around at this hour armored and weapon drawn, not that he could put it away anywhere, hand axes tonight.
OOC: Thank you! Vardi's a smith so it was the sort of thing that sticks in a smith's memory. :)
Ori: "What nail? OH you mean that old boot nail we found after finding the horse tracks? I probably tossed it off to the side of the path but if I kept it it woukd be in my packs side pouch, check there if you think it's important."
Vardi tightens then calmly loosens the strap she's buckling, taking into account that Ori is sensibly stretching before a hunt as she does so, then answers "I am most glad if ye did. Bronze be older than iron in fixing one thing ta 'nother. Nae harm ta one o tha fair folk's line either." then in an apologetic tone "Nae ma task ta riddle out visions and dreams, tha' talent was nae ma lot in life, even if I did listen ta wha'ere was told ta me of it by those who did, like ma mam, thinking it would be. I am nae mage-wise or cunning woman by trade either, but I am very nearly a proper smith."
She smiles as she fastens the last buckle and concludes "Nails have a power to them, tha' I know. Fastening things in place, aye?"
The Lyften lass offers "If tha tales I have been told of are true, a nail o'iron can make tha formless take shape ta be grasped by mortal grip. Bronze afore iron, and thorns of wood afore tha'. Girl vanished from an ancient place. May need ancient means ta hold her fast afore she visits again, be she a restless shade or a shadowlife in vengeance...Aha!"
Vardi draws forth the battered and muddy bronze nail forth with an air of triumph and murmurs "Tha's one. Only two now ta find."
Ori: "Well lets go see what kind of trouble Famh managed to stir up without us."
"Fair's fair sarge! If anyone stirred her up, was..." Vardi protests then shrugs as she continues in a more mannerly tone "Well, tha culprit's standing in front of ye now if yer still looking ta tear them a new one fer their foolishness."
Her defiant hands on hip and hammer stance are at war with the polite tone of her words, but they are honestly spoken for all that.
Ori: "And where in hell did Famh want to meet up? Lets go find her and put this nonsense to bed so something can get some rest tonight, aye."
"Aye Ser!" the Joturn-kin responds smartly, but hunkers down a moment to ask Thach a slightly less odd question in some urgency "Thatch, would ye happen ta have a horseshoe nail on ye I could borrow? I've been told tha' horse-wise folk often keep one about them."
Famh smiles as she catches a glimpse of Salt, knowing that the faithful deerhound would not likely be out of the men's quarters unless Cainneach were too. But her look of quick reassurance congeals into something far grimmer at Keenlen's final words. She nods slowly, her face still; her expression sharply present and yet somehow very far away. "I can understand hou ye feel, A think. I once haed a little sis... " Then she breaks off with a sudden catch of her breath, as if she'd been surprised into revealing more than she'd intended. After a few deep breaths she goes on. "That's been weiching on me. But on the other side o' the brae, I get the feeling thon gin she'd been the victim here it wad weich on her tae dee sae poor an unknown, e'en gin she did avenge herself naebody wad ken it. She'd want public justice sae aw wad ken thon e'en her life mattered; an sae the rich lordlings wad ken thon e'en their wealth canna aye buy their way oot o' gallows gin they hurt any other lass in future. I'm juist torn ..."
She falls into a moody silence before wanly smiling again, glancing over at the hounds once more as if she just noticed the addition to their number. "Weel, it seems ma intended's hound wis a wee bit bolder than I'd venture tae be aboot waking him. Nae tellin' such a fine dug tae wait till sun's risen ... or any other dug for thon matter. I'd best gae an' reassure him I've no gone wholly gyte risin' this early. Thank ye sae much for talkin' wi' me... an for trusting me sae." With a final smile and nod she heads towards the shadowy corner whence Salt emerged.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Cainneach's responds silently with a quizzical expression, unsure what to make of Thatch's message and deep blush. A few moments after Thatch departs, a thought comes to his mind and Cainneach's face becomes similarly flushed. He curses his beloved under his breath, for making such sport of the trustworthy scout. However, any displeasure is tempered by that now decidedly pleasant thought that lingers hazily. The forester turns toward the location of Famh's voice, straining to catch a glimpse of the mischievous girl.
Salt pulls restlessly at Cainneach's hand and starts to whimper. Following the direction of his Salt's gaze, Cainneach can make out the Sheriff's hounds. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he gives Salt a few more pats and whispers, "Be on your best behaviour now!", and lets the young hound go. Better to let him go before he starts making too much of a racket.
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The others ( Ori, Vardi ( and feline accomplice) and Thatch arrive down stairs just as Famh is exiting the hall, Thatch having turned back around once again and his eyes being the only ones to pierce the shadows and find Cainneach lying in wait outside the main doors.....though Famh knows he is there she has trouble locating her fiancee in the darkness......
Famh is in a sombre mood as she approaches the shadows in which she hopes her beloved is enveloped. The memories that came back to her just now are too fresh and painfully startling to be looked at directly … at least for the moment; but they have set the tone for her current train of musings. Her mind jumps instead to her recent conversation with Cainneach about the immediate future the Dayne retinue faces. And even if this is a future that includes the absolute certainty of seasickness aboard the Linden for however long that craft takes to beat back to Port Clyster against whatever late winter winds the Mergeld coast might throw in their way on a journey south (Nature 11 [to predict how likely headwinds are at this time of year]), and a fairly large degree of uncertainty as to when a wedding of its two Thulish members can be arranged, the chain of reflection has her suddenly very solicitous about their future together. And with the terrible battle against Fingal MacTethra fresh in the minds of all … even if one leaves out a ghaist appearing immediately afterwards to emphasize the point … she cannot but be aware that although the Dayne retinue probably provides the best place for them to pursue their destinies together, it also provides a way of life and a web of duties in which there is no guarantee of survival for either Cainneach or herself.
As far as those last two points go she is naturally of two totally contradictory points of mind . Re. the potential death of her beloved, she has now had enough seasoning facing danger with him to not completely break down in hysterics and be useless for the next three days at the bare thought. In fact, in a curious way she finds this the simpler of the two horrible though thankfully remote possibilities she is musing about how to deal with. Because there really is nothing to be worked out. If Cainneach dies, so will she. It will happen like it does in the tales, on the battlefield where he falls, at the bare anguish of seeing his death. If by some misbegotten twist of accursed luck it shouldn't happen so, of course he needn't fret about her taking her own life or anything silly like that. Because of course she won't need to. She'll have pined and died in a satisfactorily brief while anyhow.
If, on the other hand. she should fall, ... Well, he'd trusted her enough now in their more intimate moments together that she had some vague intuition of the terrible desolation that had fallen over him when his mentor Dru died; and she never wanted such an agony on his soul again ESPECIALLY for her ... but she couldn't bear to think of his dying either, just in case the terrible people who had thrown stones at her were right after all and faeries really DIDN'T have souls beyond this world which meant --
She'd find some way to stay with him. She must. Dead or alive, she'd find some way to comfort him, she'd whisper endearments to him in the evening breeze, she'd gaze lovingly upon him from the e'en of his also beloved beasts. And of course, she would do all that was in her power to make sure it never came to that awful day for either of them. And whatever was not in her power, for her darling Cainneach she'd do that too. But she knew enough now of the depths of his love for her to know that if she should fall whispers in the breeze would not be enough. Their hearts were as truly bound as Naoise and Diedre's in her cherished legends; he needed her living presence or that of the child their love might someday kindle; or someone with a tie of blood that close at the least ...
... and again the memory returns to her mind. Her voice, her young-lass voice, echoing and calling among the fae-haunted hillocks around The Black Lake and Balordael Muir just outside Scalcombe’s charmed circle of certainty; calling with increasing despair a single name through what seemed like endless leaden-lighted early evenings a month and a half after All Souls’ Eve and then returning to weep with her mother over their draught-bedeviled peat fireside in their draught-bedeviled half-tumbledown ruin of a dairymaid's cot that the remnants of charity had bestowed on her mother after the faerie knight ravished her away and Brither Cadfael brought her back pregnant with Famh. It came back to her now, curling around her mind like a summons fron the unquiet past and its never resting debts of responsibility.
"Rhiannon!!!! ...
... ... ...
Rhiannon !!!!!! ....
...... ...... ...... ......
RHIANNON !!!!!!!!! ...... "
......... ...... ...
She is also much more mature than she might once have been in broaching the subject to Cainneach in a way that she hopes won't inadvertently stir his pain as she once had. It doesn't occur to her, perhaps, that she is becoming perhaps a little predictable in having these little talks with Cainneach after either a meal or a night in travelers’ quarters. Nor does it dawn on her that perhaps Cainneach has picked up this pattern and may be beginning to experience a slight lurch in his stomach whenever she approaches him at these times with that certain look in her e'en. She is aware enough of the magnitude of what she has to tell him that she makes certain to lead up to it with ... for Famh ... slow and measured steps. She begins with a reassuring smile as she homes in on his familiar scent of pine and moss and dew-moistened hound until she is close enough for her faerie sight to pierce the shadows and make out his beloved face.
"Weel, naucht’s happit tae the twa lads yet, sae the corbie I thoucht I wis chasin’ micht prove a wild ghaist after aw. We’ll likely ha’ the delichtful duty o' escortin thaim tae the Duke for judgement after aw, gin we can prove our case agin thaim. And then we’ll set sail for … weel, I suppose we can call it hame sae lang as we’re in the service o’ Sir Almeric an' he o’ the Baron.”
“But I wis but teasin' before whan I said the main thin we'd won bi beating Fingal MacTethra wis a pleasure cruise doon the lovely coast o' Thuland i' late winter. I'm proud o ye and the way ye foucht, leannan, as I've said before. But thon doesnae mean I'm na proud o' Thatch wha shot bi yer side ... e'en if I do lak tae tease him a wee bit frae time tae time ... ; nor any o' us. We cam' together in battle as a retinue i a way we've no done e'en whan we facit the peril o' our lives i' Karvala's tower before. And I ken ye're proud o' me, thouch the faerie glamour thon let me flit frae place tae place wis nane o' ma weavin'. It felt like the other times I wis callin' on another spell an summaucht else happenit thon wis strange an fey... ma soul touchit the wild heart o' the Guid People, as it were.”
If he receives this preamble without showing too many signs of alarm, Famh will go on. ”It wis a gift o the breeze o Tir na' n'Og thouch, a ghraidh; I canna rely upon it comin tae pass again any mair than I can know for certain it wonae. And I dae ken ye worry aboot me whan it comes doon tae battle breakin' oot; an I'v been iver sae slow aboot makin' myself a paddit jack like the levies wear whan their laird wants thaim tae shoot i formation... 'licht archers', I think they call thaim? ... but I promise it straicht aff as soon as we come tae where I can get the linen an other things I'll neit tae make it. Unless ye happen tae have noticit ane i' the markets o' Marrowglen or thase back i' Carnasse? I startit thinkin on it whan we were shoppin' thare, the afternoon o' the Duke's banquet, but I wis... a little distractit theb, shall we say?" She winks fondly at him, then takes a deep breath.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I'm startin' tae worrit an ramble, its juist that thon terrible battle wi' the fachan has remindit me we baith swore tae keep ilka other safe. And then tae come upon a ghaist here instead o’ the quiet bit o investigation we were plannin on … e’en gin it is a ghaist we rather sympathize wi’... " Another deep breath follows; then, if Cainneach has not yet either run for the local herbwife or become so upset it would break her heart to continue, she reaches her peroration. “But anyhou, I've been thinkin o' whit micht have happened, an it's remindit me o' the uncertainty o' mortal affairs. And gin aucht horrible shoud happen, well, I dinnae like tae think o't but I'd certainly want tae ken any last wants ye micht have sae I coud see they got done for the restin' o' yer soul i whitver paradise Morkaan grantit ye. An' I ken ye'd want tae ken mine, which is simple syne aside frae ye an the retinue I have but ane tie i' this world... maybe... an I'v nae seen her sin' the days I wis a wee lass sae thon I'd near forgotten her. And it's na juist the battle wi' Fingal an the fear an pity o’ Morag’s ghaist thon's broucht back the memory, but rememberin' yer kynd words thon time I first telt ye A lovit ye... thon ye wad gae wi' me back tae Brymstone an find the...an search for ma faerie father.”
“Ye see, I haed a wee baby sister too, for twenty-six bricht months whan I were seven. I think, rememberin' back now, thon maybe ane or twa o the stout farm lads aboot Brymstone were nae sae fearit o the faerie witch... as the kintra folk an' crofters were beginnin' tae call ma mother bi then... as they let on tae be whan others were aboot. And it explains why we were na driven oot until I startit tae grow tae ma womanhood an ma mother startit tae grow auld i' hers. The lads I'm thinkin' on niver treatit me ill; an aw haed deed or passit on tae another part o' the townlands ere thon happenit. An the first tae vanish did sae a little after ma sister disappearit... or tae be more precise, after it wis kennt ma sister haed disappearit, an a babe left i' her stead thon niver throve nor grew until it becam' sae obvious it wis nae mortal we haed nae choice but tae see whit she wis. It tuk the auld herbwife, Brither Cadfael 's maiden aunt, an' Brither Cadfael himsel' fifteen hours tae banish the changelin babe... they did it at last bi a brewery o' eggshells... an' then -- this wis on Samhain eve they took her, an frae a little before Yule whan it wis discoverit tae Imbolc I went callin' ma sister Rhiannon ower aw the braes an hilltops aboot the faerie rath thon looks towards Brymstone frae the muir juist north o' the settlit townlands . But I niver found her; an I dinna ken gin she lives or na, or hou old she is gin sae. Time flows differently i the rath an' the Shi, they say.” She is suddenly very earnest, and gazes deep into Cainneach's e'en.
"Cainneach. Ma ghraid leannan. Promise me ane thin. I ken it's a horrible thin tae think aboot, but gin.. but gin bi some terrible mischance aucht shoud hap tae me, promise me ye'll no e'en think aboot comin' tae join me i the Summerlands until ye've done aw ye can tae find ma sister an see tae it she's safe an weel." Whether it is their mutual love or some strange gift of the faerie bards that has descended upon Famh, for a moment Cainneach sees in his mind the dreamlike image of a young girl at once like and unlike the fiery half-fae sorceress who has enchanted his heart beyond hope of charm or counterspell.
=========
=======
=========
Almost as an afterthought Famh adds, “Oh, sin’ i’ve wakenit us aw anyhou we micht want tae talk aboot a plan for checkin on the lads frae time tae time for the rest o’ the nicht, takin’ it i turns sae the rest can gae back tae sleep.” She lowers her voice. “I oucht tae ha’ suggestit it ere we went tae sleep the first time, but I didnae ken then thon Keenlen were a father. He’s tauld me juist now thon he’s half temptit tae juist let the chaist ha’ thaim whene’er he thinks on his three dauchters.”
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Explanatory map to the recent post and to various cognate Famhblings about her birthplace (with all gratitude to the Cobwebbed Forest website):
(I’d imagine that unless the Linden passed within the straits of Inis Manister on its way past this place {it’s between the lands of Baron Aldred and Duke Carnasse on the Mergeld coast}, only Famh would have seen more of this than the city itself and perhaps the outlines of Kyene and Sanmarl. But the e’e of memory is sharp, as they say …
I’ve been imagining her as born in or near the farmhouse in between Scalcombe and Cradoc’s Ford, between the river and road; though lately I’m wondering if even that’s a little close to the Laird’s hall for a person of her description and class … perhaps one of those west of the Ford instead, out on the moor near that ancient stone circle?
===
Also, some more possibilities the OpenAI site generated for Rhiannon:
(um, actually if they're all going to turn out this big I don't want to hog up the game thread space with this, I think I'll make a separate message thread instead and edit in the link to it ...here... when done)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Ori, still shaking off the tiredness that had kept him solidly sleeping before, sees a very calm situation in front of him. "Please someone be a good chap and remind me why I am awake at this hour and nobody is dying?" Voice getting a bit more harsh as he spoke. He really was tired it seems. Big fun loving guy gone for the moment but this is what he had expected to, and really was hoping to see. "Someone else is watching over the lads? Then why are we? Almeric wants us rested and recharged by morning and this is not how you do it last I checked. We have no proof of foul doings by those lads otherwise we would have delt with them before. We don't know who or what is behind what's going on. So what is it going to take to get you to all get some rest as we all requested beforehand to do?" Slightly irritated by the situation but this crew worked well on gut instincts and following hunches that he didn't want to discourage them from doing what they felt was the right call, or not including him.
Thatch gives Vardi a puzzled look, not expecting a question like that at this time. “A nail? ‘‘Tis a chance, but I’ve not had the occasion to shoe in some time, let me see what I can find.” He digs through the pouch at his side, rummaging for a moment before pulling out the requested nail, face lit up like he found a prize. “Here you go, but what will you be needing it for?”
The chill of the evening has set in and it only grows colder as the time marches towards morning......a foxes scream echoes over the moorlands and one of the gate guards coughs heartily into his hands, not wanting to waste the warmth.
Within the hall only Keenen still sits upright and awake, staring into space then scanning the walls before returning.....
Cainneach watches as Famh approaches, not moving or making a sound. He initially hopes to suprise her with a quick kiss, as it wasn't clear if the highland lass had spotted him in his obscured post. However, the forester notes that certain determination in her stride, can instinctively tell that she is seeking him out and has something pressing on her mind. Cainneach wonders if she might have some pressing news on the phantom girl or the marked ne'er-do-wells who likely offed her, for he could only catch snippets of her conversation with Keenlen.
While Cainneach expects the earnest and rambling telling of her tale, he certainly doesn't anticipate the ultimate thrust of it, the revelation of a sister and a request from his beloved to seek this mysterious girl out in the event that Famh should pass from life to the unknown beyond. He knows by now to let Famh work through her story fully before making any response, though it raises so many emotions and questions in the telling. Throughout, he carefully observes her lovely face, attempting to perceive her true state of mind, ready to hold her, protect and calm her should she falter. There is no need, however, as Famh remains steady and Cainneach returns her loving gaze. He takes her hands while she speaks, then pulls her close, embracing her. He whispers into her ear.
"Famh, if it comes to it, and I cannot say it, for I dare not even think it ... Of course, I'll carry out your wish, but wouldn't it be best to seek out your sister while you're still here ... we have to venture to meet your other ... family, should we not start the search with them? I want to take this journey with you, as I've told you before, for I know too deeply the pain of lost family. Salt and I are faithful to you, to the very last breath we draw, and we can surely find her. As soon as we can seek our leave of these duties, when whatever service we owe is fulfilled, we'll go and meet your sister, I swear it."
As he finishes his response, Cainneach kisses her gently on the neck and takes a moment to compose himself. On the subject of taking watch, the forester tries to muster what remaining energy he has and offers, "You get some rest for now, I'll keep an eye on them. I'll wake you in a few hours. I love you."
Come join the Worlds of Pphost, a new and growing PbP community! Adventures are currently running in the world of Haven or do some role-playing!
It never hurts to help! ---- PbP: [Rolling Dice] [Tooltips] ---- DDB Content: [Free Adventures] [Encounter of the Week]