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Forked Spirits
Thuram Speaks To The Caravan Of
Recent Events And Times To Come
I first wish to pass on my congratulations to the caravan as a whole, the fact that few who are not Gael have anything that they can tell of the Feral, is not ignorance we can be sure, rather it is testament to the fate which befalls most who encounter this strange race. For us to visit them in their own lands, face trial and burdens from them and the Urdaal at the same time and place, whilst leaving with much kinship, knowledge and goods to trade, speaks well of all within the caravan.
I was most pleased with those who spoke with the Feral, braving their ferocity and unusual customs, to learn more their kind, I am now left though to wonder on why it might be that such long abandoned lands, not under claim by Gael, or city state, should now contain so many hues of man and beast. I believe I can personally arrange a buyer for any items of interest collected from these strangely cold yet warm ones. In particular, those who have collected a fur so soft to the touch, yet so different from the results brought by touching one of these. When the anger came amongst them, described as a pack challenge by the shaman, when the one they called alpha was now denied right to speak for them with the Urdaal, some of the wisest in the caravan knew that here was the opportunity to strengthen allegiance with the Urdaal. The choice to pledge arms and therefore trade, with shaman running water against the new aggression, was a great choice by the counsel and those whose opinions they garnered first, the Feral chose to fight instead with the Gael trade visitors rather than our new alliance, their own having already been shattered by the change in ways of their new leader.
I am also pleased of our new agreements with Urdaal, speak wide and well of it, for they are eager that we will be the route by which they get to be invited to eat at many tables, I am told by some of the wisest amongst us, that their learning, so in evidence before the night came, between the shamans, are greater than many had seen anywhere in lands, and we can all I am sure give testimony to their accuracy with bow and axe. But now they bring new gifts, which include their desires and their knowledge, in particular their news of the golden creatures from mountains far eastern, interest me greatly.
But truce with the Feral came at a terrible price, a foul creature they called one of the dark, and also ancient one, had to be destroyed and I am told from many who faced the foul creature that attacked us, that a life here was sacrificed such that all others would be saved. Our caravan is blessed again now so we will not speak their name, but I ask all who were there to search their hearts and ask if more could have come from them, those who defend in a caravan are just as important as its traders. Only by each of the family doing their duty as they must, will any gain in the profits.
I had hoped that the departure of that Gaelic knave would bring peace to the caravan and allow us to carry out our trade in what little light remained , the Ferals permitting no trading on their lands at night. Too soon did dusk come, and with it billowing clouds of smoke and the howls of our guests to mark the passing of their protective ward. Then the darkness was amongst us, striking at any that travelled too far from our watch-fires. In waves they came to crash against our walls of brave guardsmen, and many would have died then were it not for the magic of the caravan.
Eventually the darkness receded for a time, and the shaman spoke of a need now to gather together our best hunters for the fires had told that the only the death of the creature would halt the encroaching darkness. Due to their beliefs such a hunt was forbidden to the Ferals, and the Urdaal were unable to go without their chief who had gone once more to meet with his kin. It fell, in this nameless place far from the road, to the caravan to slay this beast.
Yet help was on hand, for the shamans of both peoples promised to lend their spiritual aid to the task. Under their supervision were nine pairs bonded so that the strength of two would become one in the oncoming battle. The bond was forged in the cold heat of secrecy, and many a pair glanced all the while at each other as they walked back from their secluded glades.
A call was made for the Ferals to make a sacrifice, and so did one of their number give themselves up that its ghostly form might guide the hunters to the beast. Suddenly the moment had come and the pairs were separated into those that would remain with the shaman and those who would go. For those of city mind the shamanic ritual made little sense yet its importance would become all too evident.
So did the hunters depart, and with them the hopes of all who watched them go.
As it is ever my duty, so I was again ensuring the caravan’s protection from our hosts and as such that which I recount below is gathered from another’s account:
“With each step did the lights we brought with us extinguish until only one remained, a symbol of our life and courage. We wandered for an age in this fell place, us and the flame following their ghostly guide until finally they came upon a pool. "From this pool you must drink to show the strength of your bond," said our ghostly guide, and this we did; nine of us crouched low, but only seven stood up… and then did my eyes fail me as the flickering came to an end.
“Darkness once more descended, and many of us were struck with foul magics until we heard the roar of its master. Whatever it was, it would not wait for us to seek it out.
“Gripping our mettle, we drove against the creature but were easily repulsed by its terrible might as its force threw those who would stand against it against rock and tree. Impervious to our weapons it seemed, and so did our dance continue for a long while until the beat changed and wounds became visible upon both hunter and hunted. Our plan was working, so enraged was the beast that it sought only to crush that which stood before it and cared little for its flanks. Would we last long enough to make the sacrifice of our spirit partners worthwhile though?
“It was then that our Feral friend, grew into a terrible frenzy and sought a dance of her own with the great beast; in this way did another Feral sacrifice itself for our future. Badly wounded as it was though, I still fell to its last blow and did not come round again until the moment of its death had passed. With these thoughts heavy in our hearts and minds we returned to bring news of victory, but no celebration was heard that night, a combination of exhaustion and fear combining to smother any joy that may have been felt within.”
Chief Crazy like a Snake extended his wish that the warmest sun be on our backs as we pick through the rolling hills that will surely come back to the northern road before Tirnalis is reached. His wisdom in bringing two caravans to this place, has now become clearer and his charge for protection through the lands, less than may be expected. I apologise to those of that other caravan, that I did not as is customary spend good time with each of you at that first meeting opportunity, circumstances dictated that I must be ever vigilant, as till the day that we left it was the relationship and trust between my peoples and that of Crazy like a Snake that held our lives above that of the deer in their minds, though many gave them new argument and new bonds on the day that we did strike camp. Of those new ones to join us, some have been of good service, others great fools, once again I extend my praise or my wisdom to those in need of it. If I have not spoken with you at all at this time, that must be mended when next the caravan stops, for the meantime you may as said, travel with the caravan and its protection will be granted where that has been earned.
Speaking of when we will stop, Our scouts, led by ever dependable Snake, are already fanning many days ahead of us, seeking the road, and also a place where we might repair the wagons, and refresh ourselves before we enter the city of Tirnalis. I am sure that welcome will be warm for the goods that we carry, but remind all, that it might be warmer than the sun upon an uncovered head if fresh news of Vetiver we are also bringing.
I will leave you all with a cautionary tale, of one who turned his back on this family, threatened it within an inch of its life and was without choice nor malice ripped from its heart, a choice made for all our protection. And yet still more was his folly that he came even nearer to costing the life that is yours, having already taken all of the profit that was ours, so I curse your name Tormod, may all of the seven suns, beat upon you whenever you toil, may your springs always taste of the seas and all joy be gone forever from those souls who share your spirit.
Magnus The Blacksmith And The
Attack Of The Dark Feral
After Mereddin the bard left the encampment, we of the trade co-operative established a set of guidelines and trade regulations with myself as head of attached staff. To this end, I promptly hired both Gaels as guards and have an oxskinner on the way.
The hunt for the Dire, were-bigger-than-a-bear Ur-dark Feral went remarkably well with myself, the Feral Shaikahan, Daenn, Mianas the Saurian and Malthus the brewer. Fighting our way through the red-eyed horrors (part of the way completely blind due to their demonic powers), we finally faced it. Seeing my companions clustered together, I started issuing commands for them to encircle the giant creature, thinking that if it could only face one of us at a time the others could strike at its back. Flanking it repeatedly, we struck the final blow at the expense only of the caravan’s Feral (no great loss, then…) whereupon I took its head back to the caravan and most generously attributed the kill to the deceased Feral (fully in the expectation of the others explaining what really happened and making me look good) so as to ensure it gained the respect of the pack. While we were fighting the beast, our spirit bonded partners (who would die if we did and visa versa) stood chanting in the wood and felt all hard and stuff when they got back (go figure). I might point out that even after being struck several times to the floor and battered against a tree, the armour I had crafted had not a single scratch or dent (as the beast didn't quite get through the heavy enchantments I had put on it). Moral: BUY AT MAGNUS!
I am now arranging a short outing for some hardy souls in the search for treasure and artefacts, if interested contact me by e-mail. Also what adventurer would go out adventuring without a decent set of armour BUY AT MAGNUS, HIS STUFF IS THE BEST...
The Great Hunt
Upon the Sunday morning, the long awaited Great Hunt took place. Despite dire rumblings from the Ferals, the Great Hunt was actually only a game – a barbaric one, but a game nonetheless.
Each team consists of five people. One of these wears a red headband and is deemed the beast. Another is the hunter, is armed with a staff and wears a blue headband. The others in the team are given the job of protecting the hunter and the beast. The object of the game being to hunt the other beasts. Each team set off into the wilderness in a different direction and the game was over when there was one team remaining. The Great Hunt was won by by a team that included Master Thuram, snake copperhead and the two warrior gael, not surprising then was this victory.
After the Great Hunt was finished there was a suitably grand feast to celebrate the victory over the Dark Feral. The shamans bestowed their ineffable blessings on all those there and gave speeches, then the meeting of Feral and Urdaal, of caravan and co-operative was over.
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