Alorin

Alorin walks up to the baby, picks her up, and tries to calm her down. “Yes, we’ll get some food into you soon, don’t you worry!”

He responds to Angus, saying “Of the people on this island, I’d perhaps only trust the elves with her. She’s not one of them, but they will protect her, for they know what it is to lose a home. And this is not to disparage you and yours, but her own family, one of your folk, gave her up, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea to return her to that community, just in case her undeserving parents take to it the wrong way.”

He then turns to the druid, while carrying the child. “And I would ask if you would be willing to accept healing from me, in return for what our saviors put you through. It’s not much, but it does not come from any God, whether yours or of the Flame, but rather from nature itself. I hope that you would be willing to accept that.”

”I won’t ask you for anything in return, for that is not Nature's way; but I would bid you listen for a while. When I was a child, I had a dream - no, a nightmare - a nightmare I occasionally have to this day. A massive boulder of an indescribable color crashing into a large city, sending shards of it and a mist not unlike the Vague flying out far across the land. I know not what God sent me these visions, one of yours, the Flame of these mainlanders, or one of the forgotten gods of my father and his folk. Not knowing has made me search for faith my entire life. But I digress.”

”When I heard of what happened to Drakkenheim, much as it sounded like my dream, I thought it some wild tale spun up by people who couldn’t hold their drink. And then I saw that rock you brought back. That color you cannot describe in any mortal words. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“It’s unfortunate how all this went down. But give a thought to that stone again. I know not where you got it, but did it seem almost too easy to get it? Crashing down from the sky as the larger piece did, what if it was never meant to be a sacrifice to Kromac, but the weapon of some other god, perhaps? Not any of the Old Gods or the Flame, but some other god entirely that would wage war on our world and on our gods, Kromac included? What if the stone was a weapon meant to hurt Kromac? You know what destroying it did; could the sacrifice have hurt Kromac? Would you rather not know where the stone came from and what it is doing to the land before you offer it up?”

“I would ask that you send some people to the mainland, to find out more about this stone and about its effects. If you would rather not send your own, I do believe I might have cause to head there myself. And perhaps my friend here may tag along, as a witness of your gods? I know you’re angry; all I ask is that you hold off that anger until we know more.”

Having said his piece and offered to heal the druid, Alorin brings the infant nearer to Lorcan, as he gets the milk ready. 

Rivyre looks around & asks to all who can hear,

"Does anyone have parchment & ink? I need to send a warning to Chapel of Saint Hugh & Blytheway Chief in Enniskillen that a violent reprisal from the Lochlaan's could be imminent. The Druid was not subtle in his hatred that he wanted all followers of the Sacred Flame to be destroyed, drowned, etc. Enniskillen could very well be target now because of the crystals destruction."

The Druid watches Alorin as he picks up and comforts the babe. He listens silently. "Alorin, you are not unknown to me or my people. You must take the child. You claimed her from the Hunt, she is yours now. My people will not take her back. And while this stone is a great mystery... as you describe, you felt the power of it yourself. Kromac's offering must be completed."

"If you wish to offer healing, I will accept. I have much work to do. My people will be occupied here in preparing for war. You need not be part of this war. And the Steward of the Silver Sword does not need to be part of it either. He plays another role. If you are traveling to the mainland, find out more. But if this stone is indeed a fit offering from Kromac---you must bring it back for him. Do you agree?"

Lorcan finishes with the milk and brings the bucket over to Alorin and the baby. Dipping a rag into the milk, he strokes the baby's cheek, and then gently pokes at the baby's mouth with the soaked end when the babe turns, looking for it. She latches on and sucks the milk from the rag hungrily, her bright eyes opening up. Lorcan smiles, and keeps dipping the rag in the milk for her, feeding her bit by bit while Alorin holds her.

~~~

Sir Lorn turns to Rivyre, horror written across his face. "The Druid told you this? I will go myself to warn them. While I had to do my duty in destroying the delerium, I am responsible for this. William, Eberhard. This place is not safe for you, nor for Brother Feock. Go, now, with all speed, back to the ship, and bid Captain Birdstone cast off immediately! Do not wait! I only pray he will not be pursued by longships ere he is safely away."

Alarmed, William and Eberhard nod, and with hurried goodbyes to everyone, they set off as quickly as they can, tramping through the snow and the mist, back towards Darryl.

Moz the Magnificent 

Having heard enough, Moz pokes his head into the Longhouse. Looking to Alorin. "He is correct Alorin, the fate of the child lies in your hands, the decision is yours and not these Sacred Flamers. And while I sincerely commend you on your efforts to defuse this situation." Gesturing with his toward the Druid " Dog boy over there has to respond. Kormac's offering was taken and his altar destroyed on his watch. If he doesn't act then Kormac is going to eat his face and flay him alive. Then he will start getting really nasty. Kormac does not forgive." Pulling his head out he turns and looks toward the others. 

Valanthe pulls the furs around her shoulders as she watches the gnome pretending not to sneak up to the cabin, his kind words bouncing around in her head. If I only I could decide on which decision to make first, she ponders as she idly prods the fire with a stick.

After a short while, the young elf looks up at Sascha of House Von Syndow still mounted on her horse feeling the awkward silence between them. She doesn’t remember me, Valanthe thinks doubtfully, or maybe this is, like, post-battle human stuff where the nobles are supposed to remain stoic and watchful… maybe I should just say “Hi, Sascha, remember me, it’s Valanthe, we’re both like princesses or something and did sword-fighting once”... what was it Moz said - one decision at a time…? 

Summoning some courage from the fire, Valanathe stands up, dusts the snow off her arse and is about to speak to Sascha when the Silver Order soldiers appear from the trail. Her mouth agape from an unsaid hello, Valanthe abruptly, and probably obviously, about turns and quickly heads back to the fire and the sled, like she meant to do that anyway.

Almost as soon as the men appear, Rivyre sweeps back the furs covering the doorway and strides back this way. Putting the sledge between her and the flamers, Valanthe puts her hood up and head down and pretends to be doing something important, and listens and observes - not wanting to have to speak to any of them.

“Fey creature” she snorts to herself in disgust at the knight’s casual dismissal of her new friend “Yeah, because the Silver Order have a perfect track record when it comes to childcare…” and curses to herself when Sir Lorn sends his men off at pace.

With the soldiers gone, she runs over to the cabin and bursts through the doorway "The Silver Order soldiers have gone! They said they're heading to Enniskillen to stop a, um, killing... ok that sounded weird... What happened in here?!"

Moz the Magnificent 

As Valanthe steps up to the Longhouse door. Moz looks up to her "Ohhh didn't you hear? The Flamers in their infinite wisdom started a holy war. Now the two largest clans on Skye are going to start butchering each other." Shaking his head. " Hopefully it stays between them but when Kormac's Ravagers get a taste for blood..... who knows what will happen." 

Looking back in the direction that William and Eberhard fled. He gives a grunt " Those two are as good as dead. Clearly the Flamers memory is as short as their foresight. There were other civilians with the Druid's procession, who fled when the fight started. By now they are in Darryl telling everyone that the Silver Order attacked the Druid.  They probably have locked down the ship and have riders searching for them. They may already be on the way to the grove and we didn't hide our trail, so they will be on their way here. We have maybe an hour or two before they are knocking on the door."

Alorin

Alorin shakes his head at Neris's outburst, and makes sure the baby is still happily drinking the milk Lorcan is giving her, unbothered by the commotion. He quietly responds to the druid, "Thank you for your kind words, learned one. I know that I probably can't say enough to stop a fight here. And much as I am loath to admit it, my little friend with the big mouth is right. You will need to placate Kromac in some form. I love this land, and all the people that live upon it, whatever their faith may be, and it breaks my heart to see them drawing arms against each other. But perhaps being ready for a fight can be a good thing."

"If that one stone drew undead from the Vague, who knows what the large quantity of it on the mainland might do? All I know of it are the fanciful tales you hear, but perhaps you've seen some of these creatures on your travels, even if you did not know what they are. Perhaps there is enough fighting and sacrificial offerings out there for all of us, and being prepared will keep us all alive."

"Rather, I would ask that you prepare for war, as you must, and placate Kromac for the time being, as you can, but not engage in outright hostilities just yet, if possible. In return, I promise to investigate the nature of the stone, and whether it is a valid sacrificial offering or a threat to us all, and keep you apprised of what I might find out. And maybe, in finding out more about the stone, I might come across some other offerings worthy of Kromac or any of the other old gods, and other battles where the arms of Lochlann may yet turn the tides. And if I do, do you perchance have a way that I might use to contact you over these long distances?"

Once the child has had its share of milk, and the warmth has lulled her to slumber, Alorin places her back in her swaddled blanket, and moves to heal the druid. As he makes a gesture of growth, and utters a few words, "Fás, Ceangal", a thin vine appears out of the air, and follows his further gestures to suture the druid's wounds together before disappearing. (Cure Wounds; 11 HP healed)

Valanthe bursts into the longhouse with her news, and the Druid scowls. "So the coward shows where her true allegiance lies. Is it with the Flame, or is it with denying Kromac his just due? Yet even the dullest knife may be wielded to good effect by a skillful hand. Let Enniskillen prepare for war. They will get it, and Kromac will be glorified."

As Alorin speaks, where the Druid's expression had been mild, it now stretches to a wide smile. "It is good to hear you speak so, Alorin. War is the greatest sacrifice to Kromac that there is. My warriors are honored to die in battle for him. Kromac refused me that honor today." He stands and stretches as Alorin's magic closes his wounds. Lorcan watches in awe, still boiling down the poultice. "Now, let your words not be merely words, for words are both powerful, and cheap. You have made me able in body again, and I thank you. Now, if you are serious about your offer, come with me, back to Kromac's clearing. Your sacrifice will bind your words, and then you and I will stay connected, no matter the distance that separates us."

The babe sleeps peacefully, swaddled in her blankets, satisfied after her long-awaited meal.

The Druid waves his hand over the smoke of the fire, and the fire sputters, as if a harsh breeze had blown it. "Sons of Lochlann," he addresses Angus and Lorcan, "you do me honor today. I will return, and then after we rest, we will return to Darryl. Guard Alorin's child, that she may one day serve Kromac as well." He steps out of the longhouse, gesturing for Alorin to follow.

~~~

Sir Lorn looks at Moz, and shakes his head. "A compelling picture you paint," he says, "but perhaps not a true one. Will the distrust of the Flame and the ardor of the peoples' devotion to Kromac overcome the terror of the Vague and of the stone? Nonetheless, there is no time to waste."

He turns to Sascha. "Flame be with you, my lady," and to Rivyre, "and to you, brave Flamekeeper. It is not easy to walk between worlds. I have lain low in my time here to observe, yet the truth can be known, the way of the Flame can be followed, even in the most arduous of circumstances, surrounded by the most hostile folk. Remember the sacrifices of Saint Tarna and her followers against the ravages of the Sorcerer-Kings, who sealed blood pacts with demons such as Kromac and some far more powerful. Against overwhelming odds, the Divine Light will still triumph, but it is a quiet triumph, a victory of virtue and a peace of the soul that burns beyond the stormy sea of our mortal duties and sorrows. Wicked men seem to glory now, but in the end they will fall away into sorrow and darkness, and be forgotten, while the righteous who hold firm to virtue, compassion, and truth will still be standing at the end of all things."

"You are both welcome to depart on Captain Birdstone's ship, and return to fair Elyria," he continues, "or perhaps the Flame has a greater task for you here still in Skye. Burn brightly, for even the smallest light penetrates the deepest darkness. Fare well!"

Sir Lorn turns and walks away, into the fir forest. If anyone continues to watch him, he is still visible far through the trees as he kneels down, drawing his sword and laying it in front of him as he bends his head in prayer. A soft light seems to glow around him, tinged with the strange pink of the great fir trees. And then, something moves. A white horse, a warhorse as fair and fine as Solis, emerges from the underbrush and trots up to Sir Lorn, laying its muzzle in his palm lifted up in prayer. Sir Lorn looks up, stands, and mounts the horse. Leaping forward the horse gallops through the trees, and Sir Lorn is gone.

Moz the Magnificent 

Standing aside Moz watches the Druid leave the Longhouse. Stepping in he looks at Alorin. " Are you sure of this course of action? I won't try to dissuade you, all I ask is to think carefully. You know what it means to make a pact with the Old Gods, and Kormac is not one you want to be owing." Looking back at the Druid and back at Alorin. " I suppose your mind is made up. Do you want some company?"

"I shall go with him"

Angus steps out of the cabin. "I wish to witness the sacrifice and make one of my own." 

War? The thought of a holy war erupting within his homeland was not something he had considered, let alone against Clan Blytheway. Differences aside, they are still our family, this is still their home isn't it? The others of his kin might be fully separate from Enniskillen but Angus has friends and family within the Flame. But if a sacrifice is what Kromac wants, then perhaps one could be found elsewhere, where the stones were found, maybe.  Monsters rose up to halt the raid, maybe one might be worthy enough to sate Kromacs rage?. But a monster of equal value to that of war? If it is out there, he will find it. And when he does, he will bring its head.

Moz the Magnificent

Looking up at the big warrior, he gives him pat on the leg. "Take care of him, sometimes his nobility gets him into trouble." Groaning he sits down in a chair. " I don't suppose your cousin has some incense that I could buy off him?" Leaning back in the chair. he looks at Alorin " I don't suppose I can hold the baby? I did also nearly died distracting the Huntsman from finding El, till Sascha and the Silver Order showed up. I promise I won't going running off with her, I am hardly in any shape to run off." nursing his shoulder where the Huntsman arrow hit him.  "Angus's equally large cousin can keep an eye one me."

Alorin

As soon as the druid starts walking out, Alorin starts to wonder if this was a good idea. "What did I just get myself into? And it's not like I can back out of this; that would do far more harm than good. Alright, time to get it together; this is just another journey, in a way. Let's see where this path leads me," he thinks to himself. He turns to Moz, trying to act weak and tired (or so he thinks; Investigation: 6), and gives a snort of amusement. "I'm not going to actively stop you - and indeed I can't from out there - but I don't know how the others will react to that. That said, I wouldn't mind yet more company on the trek, unless you don't feel up to it, of course." In his mind, he adds, "Maybe he might have a better eye for what I'm about to walk into."

He takes another look at the baby, and signals for El to come into the hut as well. He turns to Lorcan, and says, "I hope you won't begrudge my companion here a spot at your hearth while I make a trip with your druid. She's tired from the fight too, and I'd rather not take her back out into the cold right now."

Following Angus and the druid, he asks them, "I am indeed serious about my words. Something tells me there is war brewing in the world, and there are definitely sacrifices enough for Kromac, Arwyn, and all other faiths. And I will earnestly seek to find out whether this stone is a gift or a trap. That said, could you tell me more about what you would have me do today, or how this would connect us? And I hope my lack of faith does not offend."

(Note: anything in italics was not said out loud)

The story of Moz & Alorin taking on a Huntsman during the Wild Hunt + fighting off all the undead in Kromac's Clearing still irks in Rivyre's mind. Especially Moz who looks completely unscathed..., something doesn't add up. She touches the flame insignia on her shield & whispers, "Divine flame, grant me clarity & help me see the truth." Guidance= 1d4 (1) She focueses on Moz standing in the doorway of the longhouse & begins to study him closely looking for anything out of the ordinary. Gradually, she notices his form sort of distorts in her vision as an illusion reveals itself to her. Study Action: Investigation check- 1d20 (Natural 20) + Guidance (1) + Investigation (1)= 22

In her mind Rivyre says to herself, "Hmmm, Sir Lorin's suspicions about him could be right. Did his special paladin sense tell him something was off? Hmmm...., I need to be on guard w/ Moz & see if I can get him to reveal the truth."

She pulls out her healers kit from her pack & walks back toward the longhouse door to where Neris is still standing & Moz went inside. She pokes her head in & speaks, "Master Lorcan I know i'm the last person you want to see or talk to, but may I use your shelter to tend to my companions wounds?" (showing her healers kits of banadages & herbal salves).
"Neris..., Master Vaelorn would be most upset w/ me if I let wounds those fester & go untreated after I vowed to keep you safe when he left me w/ your protection. Please..., sit."
Turning to Moz, "Are you alright Moz? Stay seated I can take a look at your shoulder." As Rivyre finishes, she shoots Moz a suspicious look.

Moz the Magnificent 

As Rivyre offers healing Moz gives her a funny look. " Ahhh ya sure go nuts." Noting Rivyre's suspicious look. Whats with her? Why is looking at me like that?...... is .... is she flirting with me!  Looking at Rivyre as she bandages him up. She must be. One minute she is all Fire and Brimstone and now she can't keep her hands off of me and is all concerned with my health. Ahhh this always happens with Eladrin, they just can't help themselves, must be my musk. Better let her down gently.

As Neris sits down beside Moz, he gives her a warm smilie. As she tells her joke he gives her a great belly laugh. " Ha cause they like the Light! Good one my dear, I am going to steal that from you." Giving her a wink.

As Rivyre finishes her work Moz hops out of the chair, gives his shoulder a rotate. "Nice work Doll." He then looks her in the eyes. " I have girlfriend she doesn't live but in the Fey. It just wouldn't work between us.... the height difference. It's not me, it's you."  He quickly gives a pat on the cheek. " But don't despair I am sure you will find someone." With a wink and a grin, he dashes out of the longhouse. "Alorin wait up!" As he reaches the door he catchs his refection in a shiny pot. "Ohhh my makeup is starting to run, better freshen up." Waving his wand over himself " Presto." (Disguise Self) His form shimmers for a moment, turning he gives the Neris and Rivyre a grandiose bow and an over the top wink. "M'ladies." and dashes out.

Catching up to Alorin, Angus and the Druid. He looks to his friend. " Dude, I think the Flamekeeper has the hots for me."

Valanthe stands back from the doorway as the Druid, then Angus and finally Alorin leaves the longhouse all with determined looks on their faces. The goings-on of humans utterly bemused her. “War, huh?” she replies to Moz as she absently shuffles into the longhouse “Why are humans always so keen to throw their short lives away? It’s like watching emerald mayflies at the spring equinox” acknowledging the longer lifespan that elves and gnomes enjoy. “It’s like they're born, make babies and die before they’ve ever lived” she says as she walks over to gaze upon the sleeping human child.

“Ooh!” she softly exclaims as if remembering something, and fumbles in her belt pouch to produce some coins (after carefully considering how much is the right amount so as to appear generous without being charitable and definitely not cheap. Money doesn’t have much use in Eladria but it’s always good to have coin if you think you might be encountering humans). Valanthe places five silver pieces on the table “For your trouble Mr Lorcan. I know how I’d feel if we all turned up at my father’s cabin.”

Valanthe doesn’t reply when Rivyre appears with her healer’s kit. Instead, she keeps her distance and simply watches as Rivyre tends Moz’s wounds, noting the care with which the flamekeeper cleans and dresses Moz’s shoulder. 

Approaching the pair, Valanthe sits in awkward silence next to Moz. Uncomfortable, she speaks “What’s a Flamekeeper’s favourite drink?” she asks.

“A light beer.”

And waits to see if it gets a laugh.

Rivyre chuckles a bit @ Neris's joke, "Can't say i've heard that one. She finishes applying the dressings & salves to Neris & cleans up her supplies. "Your wounds should start to feel better, however looks like you picked a bit of cold during that fight w/ the shadows. You need stay here to rest & keep warm or that illness will persist." She stands up, pats Neris on the back, smiles, & nods as she turns to Lorcan & gets ready to leave.
Looking over to Lorcan, "Would be kind to share some of your food w/ her so she regain her strength? I have little use for money, so please take this as compensation for your hospitality & supplies." Rivyre places 3 gold pieces on the table by Neris's silver pieces, then walks back outside knowing her presence is not welcome.

Rivyre sits on the sled by the campfire, lowers her head feeling somber, hopeless, & lets out a heavy sigh feeling tired..., very tired. She never anticipated coming home would be so depressing. Almorra shrouded in darkness & death, Skye now on the brink of holy crusade due to the delerium crystal, a lost infant w/ no home, & even the elves..., her distant kin highly suspicious of her. So many people w/ seething mistrust because of her faith, even when she tries to find a common ground. Rivyre can do nothing to hide such sadness from her face, but looks up to Sasha, "So, m'lady. I'm glad to see you arrived safely on your journey. How has your time been here on the Isle's?"

Sascha's eyes follow noble Ser Lorn as he walks away,  She takes a deep breath, clearly a little harrowed by the situation that had unfolded. She was, in this moment, quietly cursing her sense of noblisse oblige. Skye was no longer safe for her, she no longer felt welcomed here. She was woefully unready to depart. Rivyte's voice cut through her thoughts and she turned toward the elf. 

"Flamekeeper, it's good to see you too. I can think of few people I'd rather have with me here." She moves to cross the distance between herself and Rivyre, taking a seat. beside her on the sled.. She didn't answer the flamekeeper's question right away, raising her hands to  the flame she was trateful for the amarth, and for perhaps a socially acceptable thing to do for a moment.  When she finally did speak, it was with a heaviness that belied the fact that she was still reeling.

"Honestly, Skye is such a beautiful place, It's... Magical really, and it's been a balm since the war. I've rarely felt more at peace than I had before today. Now, it would seem I'm no longer welcome on the isle. But more than that, the babe, Flamekeeper Rivyre. I can't get her out of my head. I don't feel right leaving her here, in a place where the people whose job it was to defend her left her for dead. is... That normal, for followers of the Old Gods?" 

Rivyre picked up on the heaviness in her voice much like her own, still reeling from all that has transpired & speaks while keeping her hands warm by the fire, "Well, unfortunately it seems we share another thing in common now m'lady. Not feeling welcome on Skye. We've helped start a holy war despite my best efforts to appease & avoid one, my home island of Almorra is shrouded in darkness & death where my family...., (she shakes those specific words off not wanting to think or talk about it), several of the elves..., my kin... don't trust me, & now a lost infant w/ no place to call home."

She sighs, take a deep breath, & addresses Sascha's other pressing concern, "Followers of the Old Faith's have many different rites & rituals, & while mortal sacrifice is rare, it does occur whether it's human or animal. These sacrfices are seen as appeasements to the gods in order to spare them from nature's uncaring brutality. This Kromacian Druid may condemn such sacrifices, but that doesn't mean there aren't other Old Faith worshipers who would condone such sacrifices to creatures of the Faerie Realm."
Rivyre pauses, & places her hand on Sascha' s shoulder,  looks up, & smiles to her, "However, I trust Alorin is in the best position to make the right choice for the infant. He seemed to get through to the druid more than I did, & despite him & eccentric Moz being friends...., I get the feeling Alorin knows his intentions for the infant & doesn't agree w/ them." Continung, "Sir Lorn suspected Moz is a fey. Did you notice how surprisingly unscathed he looks after tangling w/ a powerful fey & a bunch of undead? Well, after a thorough investigation, he's hiding behind an illusion. I'm more inclined to believe Moz is not what he says he is. Be on your guard w/ him."

Rivyre's voice perks up a little bit, "One last question m'lady. I got the feeling Neris knows you. I met her & another elf named Vaelorn a little bit a go. He asked me to protect her, but I feel like i'm overstepping & I know she doesn't trust me. Do you have any ideas on how I can be better?"

"Neris?" Sascha repeats. She tries to call Neris' face to mind as she does, thinking about where she might know such a person. Obviously they'd met during todays events but, that likely wasn't it. And then it clicked... Why was she here? Why was she using a false name? It was an interesting situation to say the lest, and the noblewoman was cursing her increasingly complicated life internally. She trusted Rivyre, but she didn't know Valanthe's reason for hiding her identity. She'd need to talk to her fellow noble before she answered this line of inquiry in more than a vague way. She trusted Rivyre more than most folks on this island, even if they didn't know each other particularly well, but she wasn't about to give the game way without understanding what was happening.

"We've met. At some point I'll try and catch up with her more privately. I'm not sure exactly what's going on here, Flamekeeper, but I don't think she's likely to cause you any trouble." 

Lorcan nods in acknowledgement as Alorin, Angus, and the Druid step out, and even steps up to pull down a strip of jerky that's smoking on a rack over the fire, handing it to El to eat. As Rivyre pokes her head in, he grunts assent, but does not look at her, allowing her to tend to Moz and Valanthe's wounds while he moves his pot of boiling herbs off of the fire and hooks another, larger one to the hook hanging over the fire. Stepping outside for a few minutes, he soon returns with a basket of snow and a few frozen chunks of game, both of which he dumps into the pot. Then he sits down and begins to cut root vegetables up into the pot. He looks up in surprise when first Valanthe, and then Rivyre, set some money on his table, but he nods to both of them in thanks. "You're welcome to some stew when the Druid comes back," he mumbles.

The Druid leads the way out of the longhouse, his steps crunching over the light dusting of snow on the forest floor. The eerie, cold mist of the Vague hangs low and heavy, chilling the limbs as he leads them up the hill away from the river, the towering fir trees stretching their long branches, blotting out the grey sky. "Yes, I will explain," he says to Alorin. "All pacts are signed with blood, but no life needs to die today. Kromac is satisfied with the sacrifices that have been made today. Your promise and your blood will be sufficient to forge the pact. The altar in the clearing is broken... we will make a new one." Moz comes running up to join them a moment later.

Coincidentally, or perhaps not, the Druid leads the small group to the very spot on the hill where Sir Lorn knelt several minutes before. The hoof tracks of the paladin's mysterious steed can still be seen circling, and then leading away from the spot with a galloping stride. The Druid's brow furrows as he observes the tracks, and he begins to walk in circles around the spot, finally reaching beneath his bearskin cloak and pulling out a small, flat stone. With a muttered incantation, he sets it on the ground, and then beckons to Alorin, pulling a heavy, bone-handled stone knife from his belt.

"This is the promise you make to Kromac today. Bring him sacrifice. You need not kill a living being by your own blade. Any time you incite rage or bloodlust between two parties, so that one kills the other, that satisfies your promise. And anytime you take a life, whether beast or humanoid, you can dedicate it to Kromac, and that satisfies your promise. You speak truly when you say that war brings great sacrifice... start a war, and it satisfies your promise for as long as that war goes on. You need not have faith yet... faith will come as complete these acts of devotion. In return, Kromac will shape your soul and grant you the power, life, and ferocity that he gives to the wolf and to the boar. And you and I will stay connected, even at the farthest distance. Do you promise this?" The Druid bares his own arm in the cold, holding it over the stone he set down, and he nods to Alorin to do the same, holding the knife in his other hand.