Lorcan indeed does not seem any happier at the appearance of Rivyre and Sir Lorn. "You! Now I see what this is about. Lochlann stands against your scourge, you of the Flame." He spits. "You've taken enough of our clans, turning them to a white way, bloodless, cutting them off from their life and soul, cutting their beards, oiling their skin, and leaving them with nothing... nothing! But empty promises!"

But even as the man raises his axe again, he catches sight of Angus, pushing his way to the front of the ground, and, though wary, he visibly relaxes. With one last steely glance at Rivyre and Sir Lorn, he nods to Angus and pushes open the thick furs barring the door to the longhouse.

Inside, a fire burns in a stone pit in the center of the longhouse, the smoke trickling from the hole in the center of the roof but still giving a hot and acrid haze to the air. Along the edges of the walls under the low slanted roof arebuilt benches of wooden poles. Some are spread with straw mattresses and piles of skins and furs, and some are laid neatly with various tools. The bitter smell of old urine and tanning leather fills the air with the smoke. At one end of the longhouse rushes are strewn behind a fence of wooden poles, and hunkered in that far end are two cows and a handful of sheep, nibbling on straw that looks like it was cut from the worst part of the fens after it had seen too many freezes, which Angus knows, it probably was, by this time of year.

As he listens to the strange tale of the past few hours, Lorcan helps Angus to arrange furs on one of the straw mattresses nearest the fire for the babe. He even takes the trouble to unswaddle her and replace the soiled wool that had been packed into the swaddle to absorb waste. Wrapping her up securely once again, he lays her among the furs and sits down on a piece of sawn log by the fire. He sighs. "Our people have less and less success in their raids of Drannsmund," he says. "I have seen strange things, and heard stranger. A great curse is on the mainland. But how can it be said that this stone that draws these monks and knights like moths to a flame to destroy it is the source? Long have the followers of Kromac known that this Flame seeks to destroy and remove everything of value, everything living and breathing and powerful and real. Perhaps this stone is not so different. I cannot fault our Druid for wishing to offer it first to Kromac, whatever its properties may be."

He looks then at the child. "Great fear may override the natural instinct... there are fell and terrible things in these woods, especially during Vague, and I know not what sign was on this child, what blemish, that made her parents fear a curse. Crossing fey without proper offerings is malicious and terrifying. Perhaps these parents made some blunder, and that was their price not to be carried away themselves. But I do agree with you, cousin. This is not a sacrifice that should be made, at least not lightly. It is a noble thing to take evil upon oneself to spare one's innocent child, but not to visit it on the child to spare oneself."

Lorcan looks up as Angus goes to milk the cow. "Yes, the buckets are right there. I will watch the child for you, and perhaps you might bring our Druid in to speak with me, when you return?"

Being that Rivyre's family is originally from the Fey Wild & the stories her parents told her as a child, she finds it highly unusual for a human to even know about the Wild Hunt..., much less participate in it which is known to be extremely deadly. She knows there are more important things to focus on, but she can't help but attempt to satiate her curiosity on the matter.
She speaks to Alorin, "Pardon my curiosity as I know we have more pressing matters to attend to..., BUT how many Wild Hunt's have your participated in Alorin? Few humans know of the hunt, & to my knowledge none willingly choose to fight against such unforgivable odds. While it is certainly respectable & I appreciate saving this infants life, I can't decide if you are brave... (she pauses), or foolish."

Alorin

Alorin turns to Rivyre, with a look in his eye that speaks of unpleasant memories. “Once or twice, let’s say. And it’s not something you choose  to participate in. Sometimes you just don’t have a choice. The key is often not to fight and win; when you’re not the hunter, you just need to survive and get away. And well, if the Hunt doesn’t want company, maybe they should stop hunting babies. Two out of two isn’t a bad record at all, I dare say.” As he says this, El pads up to Alorin and nuzzles him, and Alorin starts petting her in an absent-minded fashion. 

"I am glad that Lady Arwyn sent her best to rescue this child." Angus rises, bucket of milk in hand. He gestures to the totems he had placed around Alorin's neck. "Let me take those off your shoulders. But here, keep this one."

Angus places into his palm, a pendant. Carved of wood with bone inlays, it depicts a crescent moon with twinkling stars surrounding it. "Try to keep Lady Arwyn, the Moon Hunter, in mind on your travels friend. I am sure she watches over you." Angus gives Alorin a smile and a pat on the shoulder before returning to the cart.

"Sir Lorn, though I was not there to witness what took place, it seems that there was an earnest effort made towards my kinsman. I do ask that I bring him inside. I acknowledge that you were trying to save us from dangers unseen to us. Lives were taken and honestly it is to be expected, we are a stubborn people after all, but my cousin and I would like to hear both sides."

Looking to Angus, "While I know my presence might exacerbate hostilties, I would like to join you in your talks w/ the Druid & your cousin. You know I told you that I was raised on the Old Gods, so I do have a sympathetic viewpoint to the rites & rituals. My hope is this could help smooth things over, prevent any further violence, & perhaps find a mutally beneficial compromise to remedy the situation."

Alorin

Alorin looks down at the pendant in his hand, a little lost in thought. "Faith, huh?"

He has always found it difficult to believe in a higher power, not because he disbelieves their existence, but because he tends to overthink why they do what they do. At the same time, he very much wants to have faith, for what a relief that would be.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he walks back to the cart as he pulls at a chain amulet that he wears underneath his clothes from behind his neck and unclasps it. As he does so, anybody nearby who is perceptive enough (Perception check against Alorin's Sleight of Hand, for anybody who wants to; DC 19) can catch a glimpse of an ornate locket. Alorin deftly adds the new pendant to the chain, refastens it, and tucks it back under his clothes.

Sir Lorn nods, and bows his head respectfully to Angus. "You bless me with your kind words, man of Lochlann. The dangers of delerium that have been experienced on the mainland are... unprecedented. I cannot, in conscience, allow it to spread. But I assure you I have no ill will towards your kinsmen. I would like for this Druid to be properly tended to--you see that he is wounded. As an act of goodwill I will undo his bonds myself, and I release him to you."

The Druid is clearly exhausted and battered, both by the battle, the humiliations, and the sled ride, and he waits quietly and impassively as Sir Lorn unties his bonds and releases him. Without looking at the knight, he reaches a hand out to Angus for assistance as he tries to rise.

Angus kneels down and puts his arm around the Druid to help lift him. He gives Sir Lorn a nod. Turning to acknowledge Riyvre's request, "Considering you too, were not part of the skirmish, sure. Follow." Back to the Druid, Angus asks as he guides them through the door, "Would accept healing from this one? Despite her attire, she is native to these lands and followed the Gods as we do."

Sascha Von Syndowe

Sascha has remained mounted and silent, letting others do the talking. A noble from the mainland won't do anything to convince the independent people of Skye that this group has good intentions. She observed the interplay between Angus, his cousin, and the rest of their group,  She's prepared to fight if the need arises, but it would be a last resort. her eyes stayed fixed on the man's axe.  It wasn't until they had made their way inside and the babe was being cared for that Sascha felt the topic had drifted to something she had some understanding of and comfort with - though even that was limited.

"I've been all across Westemaar in recent years, with the war effort, and I grew up among the nobility, hearing what reports we could get about the state of Drakkeneheim, and these crystals... We never really saw such things in Geldstadt, but there's something wrong with the Drann river, It doesn't surprise me to hear that Dransmund hasn't been profitable to raid of late... Was there a raid returning from there today? It would make sense if all of this stemmed from that damned river."  She sighs, before taking a deep breath in. "The trouble with what was being offered wasn't its value. I don't dispute that it's widely sought after. It's that it's said to make men waste away, or turn them to monsters. That the place it is most common is utterly damned. I believe none would wish that fate on Skye. This isle is too beautiful a place to consign to mist and madness." 

The Druid accepts Angus' help to rise, but then stands firmly on his own, rejecting any further offer of help. He leaves Angus free to carry the bucket of milk as follows him into Lorcan's longhouse. Though he limps along and favors his wounds, he says resolutely, "That is blasphemy. Once a follower means nothing. The Gods can be betrayed. I will accept no healing from magic granted by the Flame that burns and destroys all life--I bear my wounds in honor of Kromac."

Lorcan rises as his cousin and the Druid enter the longhouse. "Great Druid, I am honored at your presence." Lorcan bows. "I weep to see your wounds. Please sit by my fire and let me tend them." The Druid places a hand on Lorcan's head as he passes, and seats himself by the fire. Lorcan starts to gather dried herbs strung from twine on the ceiling, throwing them into an iron kettle that he swings on a hook over the fire.

As Lorcan waits for the water to boil, he comes and takes the bucket of milk from Angus. "Praise Kromac, your cow has been generous. Mine will be dry until they calve this spring. Let me strain this, and we can give it to the babe."

The baby is sleeping soundly in the pile of furs on the straw mattress. The Druid, staring into the fire, slowly stirs after a moment, and speaks. "The mainland has changed. We came to the shores of Drannsmund, outfitted as in the raids of old. But it was not men we fought, it was dregs of the very deep, mutated creatures choking the estuary. The men on the docks fled at our approach, and we could not raid the town, because of the monsters in the water. Merchants' ships sat at the docks, their holds brimming with the purple singing crystals. Only one did we manage to recover, and that from a man with the face of a fish. We set fire to the ships, but could not board them. What we recovered, we brought here. What curse of the deep Nodens has brought to the mainland has been for their blasphemy, for their Burning. He brings the curse of the deep to drown them, to drown their Flame. Kromac approves. Let them be destroyed as they sought to destroy us. Now the worshippers of the Blasphemous Flame have taken the stone meant for Kromac's glory, a gift to him from Nodens. They must be destroyed. They must be exiled from Darryl. Or Kromac's rage will not be appeased."

Although upset at the druid's stubbourness, she is not suprised by his devotion to the Old Ways,. However, in some ways which she also respects him. While he is retelling his story & recanting the events, she knows will need a little extra help & she whispers a prayer for help. "Mighty flame, shine your light upon my path & help me wisely use the resources you've given me." Guidance: 1d4= 3

She looks to Druid & speaks calmly, "Sir Druid..., I respect your devotion to the Old Gods & their ways. My offer still stands regardless of your refusal. I would pray to the Goddess of Dian Cheht & invoke healing from her. I would never force a prayer from the Sacred Flame on anyone who does not follow our ways. I am outlier among my beleifs, & it has earned me some enemies within the Sacred Flame that I show religious tolerance. Regardless of our respective beleifs, it is never wrong to refuse help from anyone who offers it, even Kromac should understand that." Now to your quest into Dransmund. If Kromac requires a blood sacrifice, why did you not take any of the blood from any of the creatures you probably slew in Dransmund? Surely that would've sufficed without resorting to using the tainted crystal. Or what of slaying any of the monsters that are rumored to be skulking in the island & along shores of Almorra..., my home. Surely, a blood sacrifice from there would also have sufficed. From my knowledge taught by my parents, there is no requirement of where the blood comes from."
Persuasion Check + Guidance= 15 + 3 = 18

Rivyre continues, "You have every right to be upset at Sir Lorn & Sascha, Alorin, & Sir Lorn's warriors from stopping you from proceeding w/ your ritual. I don't deny that. But, from what I heard you ignored their wishes in only wanting to talk & prevent any violence from ensuing. Would there have been any harm from hearing them out? It only would cost you time & it's very possible your warriors would still be alive if you talked & listened."

• "Sir Lorn already intends on leaving Skye & the Silver Order answers to the Sacred Flame. As a Flamekeeper, I can order him to leave Darryl & he is bound to obey my commands. That should satisfy one of your requests."
• "Sascha was simply assisting the problem w/ the information she knew. From what it sounds like, she did NOT want to harm you. You should repsect her for that. I've met her previously, & she shares similar theological tolerances as I do."
• "Alorin & Moz seemed to be dealing w/ a whole different issue w/ the denziens of the Faerie Realm before they stumbled & got tied into your blood rite fued."
• Angus, Neris, & I were on different tasks when our paths crossed & arrived after your feud ended, therefore we are not responsible for the destruction of the delerium crystal, & should not be forced to leave.

"Surely you saw the undead horrors that rose from ground, appeared at the forests edge, & tried to consume us all as a result of the crystals destruction. What do you think would've happened if none of us were there to fight them off? They could have easily come down here to Darryl & consumed every innocent as result of your stubbourness. I want to repair or replace the damaged altar in Kromac's Clearing & find an alternate solution that appeases all involve parties to make amends to you & to Kromac. There is always a compromisable path forward. All you have to do is work w/ me." As she finishes her reasoning, Rivyre extends her hand out to the Druid as a gesture good faith & cooperation. 
Persuasion Check: 14

Moz the Magnificent 

Feeling warmed up from the fire Moz stands and pats Neris on the shoulder "Think on what I said my dear. It's a brave new world for you, find your place in it." He then casually strolls up to the front of the longhouse and stands by the fur covered doorway, eavesdropping on the conversation inside. 

Seated by the fire, the Druid, although not a large man, nonetheless casts an imposing aura, as if the bearskin he wears wraps him in the ferocity and mystery of that great beast. He listens to Rivyre's every word, the expression on his face fierce but strangely unreadable, while Lorcan prepares the herbal poultices over the fire. When Rivyre finishes, the Druid speaks, remaining seated, but drawing himself up with authority despite the pain of his wounds.

"You speak eloquently, honeyed words. Perhaps you might sway those who do not understand spiritual realities. But I am the leader of my people for a reason. You betrayed the Gods that you once served, and you betray the faith that you profess to now follow. Would you go to each opposing camp in a war, and profess to be on their side, one after the other, back and forth? You believe neither in the Gods, nor in the Flame! Go outside, and tell the Paladin of the Flame there that you will heal me in the name of Dian Cheht! What do you think he will say to that? You wish to stand with a foot in each camp, do you? You will be torn asunder, and none will accept your soul when death takes you from this mortal world!"

"My warriors were honored to sacrifice their lives for Kromac! Their lives---the greatest gift they had been given! It is cowards who offer helpless babes,"--he gestures to the sleeping child--"cowards who fear the malicious trickery of the fey! The lies of fey--ah, that's what your words remind me of. Let the Gods and the Flame cozy up together on the hearth! You are a teacher of your faith? Go on, then! Please. Continue to draw your faithful away from the teachings of the Flame, and it will burn less hot! And they will be defeated by my people all the easier!"

He laughs derisively, and then continues. "All blood is life, but not all blood is acceptable sacrifice. Will blood last a journey of months across the sea? Would you offer a weak, diseased runt of the flock to Kromac, and not the unblemished firstborn? The injured and elderly buck, rather than the powerful rutting youngster whom taking nearly cost you your life? The quality of your sacrifice shows your devotion. Your blood I would never think to offer--lukewarm, insipid, weak! Get out of my sight, you coward!"

Wrath foams across the Druid's face. Lorcan stares at him in something of terror, his hands shaking as he stirs the boiling pot. The baby startles awake, and begins to cry.

Outside, Moz can hear every word.

Rivyre sighs, & whispers to Angus, "Well it was worth the attempt. See if you can get through to him. I'll head back outside & get Sir Lorn & his warriors to depart Skye. At least that'll be one thing that makes him happy." She leaves the hut & steps outside.

Once outside she lets out another heavy sigh, turns to Sir Lorn & says, "By the flame & to think some of my colleagues are stubbourn. I couldn't get anywhere w/ him, but I asked Angus to try & see if he's more sympathetic towards him. The Druid demands that you, William, & Eberhard depart Darryl immediately. I think it's best for you 3 to depart for the docks before he gets the opportunity to call for additional warriors to hunt you down."

Alorin

Hearing the cry of the infant startles Alorin out of his thoughts of faith. He walks up to the door of the house with El following in his footsteps, and says, “I can hear the child crying out. I would like to come in and tend to her, if I may. I do believe that you are taking care of her, but please understand that I cannot stand by while she cries. Perhaps that’s what got me into this situation today in the first place. I’m not of any faith you disparage, for I’m barely of any faith at all. I have barely hurt you or yours, and then only in the defense of those who saved me from certain death, and even then only to try and de-escalate the conflict. I stand by what I did earlier today, but I’d still ask your leave to enter, if only for the child’s sake.” Having said what he wanted to, Alorin waits at the door for a response.

As Rivyre leaves, the Druid turns to Angus and Lorcan. "Because they stole and destroyed Kromac's sacrifice, they will be the sacrifice. They must be purged," he says. "All of the followers of the religion of the Flame. First from Darryl, and then we will war on Enniskillen. Clan Blytheway will regret that they ever embraced this blasphemous religion!"

Alorin's voice wafts through the door of hides and furs a moment later. Lorcan seems grateful for a distraction as he bows low to the Druid, who nods. Lorcan gets up and pushes the hide covering the door aside. "Come in. I was about to strain the milk for her. I'm sure she is hungry." Checking on his herbal concoction one more time, he goes to the bucket of milk and, stretching a tight-woven cloth over another bucket, begins to pour it through, catching the traces of hair and dirt from the milk on the cloth.

~~~

Outside, Sir Lorn nods at Rivyre's words. William and Eberhard, panting, have caught up by now, and the three of them have joined Sascha, Alorin and Valanthe at the fire. "We were scheduled to depart some hours ago," he says, "though Captain Birdstone was to wait for us. I have accomplished what I stayed behind to accomplish---the stone has been destroyed. There is no reason for us to stay longer--indeed, it may be dangerous. I worry not just for our safety, but for yours, and for Sascha's." He pauses. "I worry also for that babe. It seems many eyes are on her and many would claim her. I would not like to see her fall into the hands of the fey, nor into the hands of Kromac's followers."

"I got the feeling Alorin does not follow any particular faith & l think that will be his saving grace. I trust him to make the right choice for the best interest of the infant."
"Your concern for our safety is appreciated Sir Lorn. Sascha is resourceful & we've met before, so I supsect she'll stick around & we'll have each others backs."
Addressing all 3 of them, "Please do not tarry & keep Captain Birdstone waiting any longer. Flame be w/ you Sir Lorn & to both of you William & Ebherhard. May the seas be calm & fair for the journey home." 

"What do we know of this child?" Sascha asks the Knight and his entourage. "I know that I saw the babe in danger at the Grove, and I acted in her defense, but I don't understand why such a potential sacrifice would have been happening to begin with. Is it normal for children to end up in this situation? Does it have to do with fey meddling? Has the Druid had anything to say about it?" 

The noble scion didn't know what to make of this whole situation. but she did feel a sense of obligation to the baby, and a desire to understand exactly how she had ended up where she was now. It boiled her blood to think that this babe was put in that situation. She wondered if the girl had parents somewhere or not, she wondered if this culture would truly be okay with what had happened... Sascha felt a conviction that she was doing the right thing by keeping the child safe regardless.

"We had best not dally, We need a plan to keep the child safe, however."

She did have a thought - a mad one perhaps. Not something to voice unless nobody else had a single plan at all.

"From what Alorin told me," Sir Lorn says, "the child was left as an offering in Kromac's clearing this past early morn for the fey, and he was contesting with a Fey Hunt for it." He shoots a glance towards Moz who is over listening at the door. "I suspect this gnome is a fey creature as well, still trying to get his hands on the child through trickery. It reassures my heart that Alorin is so protective of the babe."

"I don't know anything about the pagan customs here," William says, "but they turn my stomach."

"I know something of them," Sir Lorn says, "I have been here collecting information for several months. It is an old custom, to leave a child as an offering for the fairies. The child does not die, from what we know--the fey whisk it away and raise it in their courts, and most mortals do not ever know what becomes of it. We know it is robbed of its natural mortal life, and perhaps even its soul. There are many tales of fey being left in the place of such children, and that is why the parents will never take back a child that has been offered, because it might be a fey creature that would burn their house down or drink their blood at night. The close influence of the fairy realm here in Skye makes it very real to the people who live here. It is not commonly done, to sacrifice children. I suspect these parents were fulfilling a debt of some kind that they had incurred through some offense to a fey. Perhaps they had even tried to avoid it, but when their child was born on the night of the Vague, they became frightened at such an omen and were quick to leave her. That is only my speculation, however. I do not know who the parents are, nor what their real reasons were. I can tell you that sacrificing children is not part of Kromac's rites. I believe this incident was a placation of the fey."

"Well, what of the child?" Angus says to the Druid after the silence is broken. "We got to her before any of the Fey could but I reckon she is as good as gone to whomever left her. I am not willing to throw her away but I am not fit to raise a child and it is too much to ask of you, Lorcan. But she needs someone. Your warriors too. They'll need funeral rites."