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The Dale of Wolves

Started by Wildfire, June 24, 2008, 07:14:10 PM

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Wildfire

The Dale of Wolves

Duthash Gyth Arkus VY. 237  (May 28)

Ashe leaped from the balcony overlooking the enormous waterfall. He plummeted head-first towards the rocky froth below. His grey hair whipped back and his emerald green cloak fluttered behind him like a flag in a vicious wind. He held his arms out and spread his fingers. His face was elongating and his legs were shortening. The symbol on his chest blazed forth and in a flash he transformed into a silver falcon. He caught a burst of mountain wind and was elevated over the thick, wild forest.

The terrain before him was a pleasant cocktail of streams, trees, and hills...oh the undulating hills! He was in the Wildlands and the majesty of it always gave him pause. He knew well why the folks that lived here fought so valiantly for their homeland as its beauty rivaled that of the Valley of Mist. He hoped the honorable folks would win their war with the City-State of Rhohannus and secure their sovereignty. That matter was not his concern though. He had sympathy for the Wildlanders' struggle but such was not his place to interfere. There were other matters to attend to.

He had come to the Wildlands, in particular, to the sacred Tower, in order to speak with Zebulon about the Vallenwoods. He had to find out where the next acorn would drop so Maccabeus could claim it and save Whisper and her Goldleaf trees. Only one acorn would drop on the Day of the Valley to signify the Valley's rebirth. It was a production of hope. Ashe speculated that perhaps someday the Vallenwoods would be freer with their children and they would once again claim this land as theirs.

Having gotten his answer from Mahiya's Champion, Ashe decided he would visit the tribe of Dale Gnomes that Maccabeus hailed from since they were a relatively short flight away. He wanted to pay his respects to Maccabeus's mentor, Shankaria. The venerable druid prayed to Akadi, a child of Mahiya, for swift winds to bring him to the remote tribe. A burst of wind blew from behind him and continued to carry Ashe over the rich and vibrant land.

(OOC: Johan, I would be most pleased if you were to play the part of the beloved Dale Gnomes in this thread when the time comes)
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

I think that this can be done happily, Wildfire.

You and I will need to do some coordinating though.

Finally got to figure this out:


The night's hunt had been good for Farnack and his younger brother, Arhaneia. With their wolf friends (Bragthar and Graiggur) they had located and overcome a good-sized boar. It wasn't huge, but it was certainly enough to feed their clan for a couple of days. Perhaps even a few.

As Kossuth rose free of the hidden horizon, Farnack and Arheneia carried the boar into their clan-camp. They had set themselves up there when Venric broke into Sythus. There was a good fish-bearing river to fish, and there was a variety of hunting here, being that they weren't too far from the forest's edge, and the herd animals that dwelled in the Dale. They would stay here through Brak and into Rynnyx, when they would once again move northward to the somewhat warmer – although more crowded – reaches of the forest north of Bralsham.

Farnack was very tired from the night's hunt, and he could tell that Arheneia was similarly tired. From ahead of them amongst the oaks, birch, and maple trees there came the low greeting of Karaschel, a young badger that had bonded with Tarrangus, the clan's skinner and tanner. Bragthar, Graiggur, and Karaschel had become fast friends in the short time that Karaschel had been in the clan, and the two wolves bounded ahead to greet the badger. It wouldn't be too long before they arrived at the clan-camp, and Farnack could sleep. They would eat a good meal this night.

Rather suddenly Farnack could smell the morning fire of this clan-camp. It was burning high this morning; no doubt the clan already knew of their success. That was often the case.

An impossibly loud hawk's screech made Farnack jump in surprise. Arhaneia did much the same, and they almost dropped the boar that was slung upon their spears between them. They both cast their eyes to the sky to catch a glimpse through the trees. Farnack wasn't surprised to see nothing through the trees.

"Kossuth's blaze." Arheneia swore. "Tha's th' bighest hawk ah e'er seen."

"Ah dinna seeit." Farnack admitted.

"'s biggah'n tha' ol' Gnarcheon's eagle." Arheneia said.

"Kossuth's blaze." Farnack agreed with his brother's earlier assessment. He cast his dark eyes upward, hoping to see the roc.

He was disappointed though, and they returned to their clan-camp in silence, as was their wont. He just wanted to turn the boar over to Tarrangus, who would skin it, then turn the cookable part over to Chuntinka who, with her sisters, would cook it for the day while Farnack would catch up on his sleep.
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Wildfire

The venerable Druid with his predatory eyes noticed the two hunter gnomes carrying their kill. They were, no doubt, heading towards the source of the grey smoke plume that rose into the air not too far away. How simple a life they led Ashe thought and he longed for simpler times.

Simpler times were not a luxury at this moment. With the omen of the Blood Tear in the sky, simpler times were certainly not forthcoming. There was much weighing heavily on Ashes mind and he felt as though neither his life nor his wisdom was enough to contain all of it. It would be easier if the unfolding events would relent and offer themselves up in turn but such was not the case.

His meeting with Zebulon was soothing though. The Champion of Mahiya held within him the spirit of Mahiya completely. Though he was not the avatar of Mahiya he was certainly the closest thing to it in the physical world. It was odd for Ashe to see his grandson in such a unique position. Liam was a gifted Druid that Ashe had taught since the youth could walk. It was fitting that Liam was chosen to harbor the great spirit of Zebulon since it was Ashe's father that had done the same. The Druid turned falcon could not be prouder of his heritage and descendants.

Ashe decided that these two hunter gnomes, having been skilled at traveling across "the skin of the land" as his friend Mercer used to say, just might know where Shankara might be.

He went into a decent and looped around to a nearby copse of trees where he could make his transformation. The Dale Gnomes revered the Golden Stag and would see one as sign of luck and not run away or take up arms. This was his best course Ashe determined.

He landed on a sturdy tree branch and reverted back into his human form. The elation of flight stayed with him as he swung down from the branch to the ground making as much noise as possible hoping the gnomes would be alert enough to hear it.

Without hesitation, the aged man invoked his gift. His body began to glow with an aura of gold and soon he was walking on four hoofed legs towards the two hunters. The emblem of Mahiya, a circle with quadrants representing the four elements, blazed on his chest. His fur was a rich gold and his massive antlers were a gleaming silver. He had contacted Maccabeus in this image of sacred wildness so very long ago it seemed. That had been a meeting of destiny...that had been a meeting that would be the marker of new times.

Ashe innocently walked out of the trees and towards the two clansmen. He made no motions of casualness as he had little time for coy games. He was on a mission.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Wildfire

Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

As Ashe assumed the shape of the Great Stag, and was about to step forth into the vision of the two small hunters, a rapid flurry of color fluttered in front of his sapphire eyes. The suddenness of the assault took Ashe completely by surprise, and he took a hesitant step backward.

He quickly identified a female kestrel flapping furiously in front of him, her back was a beautiful pale red, her wings were silver, and black dots spotted her back and chest. Her eyes were the color of Istisha's moon at its fullness. Ashe regarded her with curiosity for a moment, and then the little bird alit upon the upper frond of his left antler.

A small, gentle voice spoke in Ashe's mind. "Should you show these hammarahn your stag form, revered Brother, they might well stop thinking entirely." She said. "It'd be safer to show them your human form." The little bird winked a bright green eye at Ashe's Sapphire ones.
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Johan

I realize that this is like calling the kettle black, but...

bump
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Wildfire

Ashe thought this little bird curious...it did after all speak within his mind. To Ashe's knowledge only seers had that power or the occasional arcane crafter...of which there were few Ashe well knew.

Could this little bird, who had called him revered brother, know who he, in fact, was? If it did, could this be Maccabeus's teacher?

Realizing that his thoughts of surprise were not going to answer his questions he decided to speak back...in his natural tongue.

"My many thanks little wondrous bird. May I have the honor of your name?" he requested while searching for any signatures of Mahiya.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

The colorful bird of prey twittered in the way of birds, and the silky voice once again entered Ashe's mind. The slightly clumsy nature of the intrusion told Ashe that this was no skilled seer, but the communication was effective nonetheless.

"I am Shankaria, brother." She answered. "I am a servant of Mahiya and protector of these lands and these hammarahn as well. I beseech you, approach them with care and kindness, as they are tender children of the wolves and carry not the sophistication of our world."

The bird flitted off from Ashe's great antler and alit upon the frond of a birch tree near by. The trees here were naturally further along in their venric growth as compared to the trees around Threshold. Still, she had alit upon a branch that afforded Ashe easy view of her.
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Wildfire

"Shankaria! It's her!" Ashe thought.

Though Ashe carried the title of Hierophant he always felt honored in meeting those that were in service to that which he held most dear. They were kin through thought and persuasion. The idea of meeting Shankaria filled him with wonder as she would, no doubt, have different means and wisdom than he though their goals were ultimately the same. Here was a chance to learn ever more...and perhaps teach.

"I'm am most humbled by your presence Sister Shankaria and equally surprised for it is you I seek. A son of your clan has arrived into my guidance and shows remarkable promise. In fact, the purpose of my journey to the Tower once again is due to him. I felt it would be ill mannered to be so close and not pay a visit to his homeland and in particular, his revered Torqaniq."

Ashe felt as though he should reveal his true form. Though in a flash he wondered exactly what form that was! He had been many things on many occasions and to be defined by one seemed inadequate. Realizing that that this was a pondering for the flight home he reverted to his birth form.

Ashe stood on his two human legs. His long silvery hair tussled down in a wild mess. At once, he gave a bow to the colorful bird and checked to see if the "hammarahn" could see the activity near them.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

ugh...I have NO idea what Shankaria looks like. This is going to take some time :(

We should perhaps kabbitz on it.
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Wildfire

Love to toss those curveballs  ;)
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Wildfire

Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

The little falcon fluttered to the ground, her wings flapping furiously so that her form was blurred and her color s mereged with one another. When finally she alit upon the ground in front of Ashe she was no longer a bird.

She was instead a small middle-aged Dale Gnome, over whom Maccabeus towered. She was lovely in her own right, with bright green eyes, but she was also quite feral.

Her brownish-red hair was everywhere, and wiry besides. Bits of twig and pine needle nestled here and there in it

Although the dark skin of her face and hands was clean, her clothes were a shambles. Wrinkled, and while not dirty they too carried bits of wood, grass, and leaves, not to mention the occasional feather or two. She wore tiny pants and a tiny tunic, and a tiny open-front robe of earthen hues. Ashe noted that her feet were bare and hairy, covered with thick wires of black.

In her hands was a staff that was slightly taller than she was - it was all of three feet in height. In was an ancient staff, the upper end of the shaft of which was inlaid with the ancient symbol of Mahiya and her children, made apparently from ebony. The lower end of the staff's shaft was carved in magnificent workmanship with the image of wolves chasing a deer. Ashe was interested to see those images shift as she moved, making it appear that the wolves were chasing the deer.

"I am gladdened by your visit, but would be even more gladdened by the gift of your name, revered brother." She said. Her voice was rather small, but smooth as fine silk. It was much in contrast to the nasal voices of the Dale Gnomes that were just now on their was to their clan-camp. "And might I ask also which of my clans sons you have been met with?"
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Wildfire

With a curt bow Ashe stated, as he revealed his bronzewood medallion, "My name is Ashe Clearwater, Son of Zachary Clearwater the Avatar of Zebulon." Ashe wondered if Shankaria would recognize the name of Zebulon or if the Dale Gnomes would know that entity by a different name. "It is by the arrival of Maccabeus and Brother Wolf, Ministers to The Ring of Mists, that I have come to visit."

Ashe unlaced his baggy, emerald green shirt unveiling the symbol of Mahiya imprinted on his chest. He wasn't sure what he was looking to achieve by such a gesture except to show that there was a something common between them.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

You know, it hasn't been said, but I would think that this conversation is being held in the Cant.

Also, I wonder at the Clearwater name. The last time Ashe instroduced himself he was Prysant or somesuch.


A broad smile graced Shankaria's face at the mention of Maccabeus's name. "Welcome to my home, Ashe." She said grandly.

Then, her formalities apparently complete, she waved a hand in up at Ashe as he bared his chest. "No need for that, silly man." She said playfully. "Tell me please what news of Maccabeus and what's this Ring of Mists of which you speak? What has that rascal stumbled into? I've heard nothing since he left me so long ago."

She spoke like a worrisome mother who hadn't heard from an errant trouble-making son, and she projected a strong maternal sense that Ashe knew would make even the tallest trees feel young and immature by her presence. It seemed as though she was mother to all who lived in these lands.
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