A Wild Prayer (Pax, Chyril 27, late TT)

[Craghley]

OOC: This thread is just to prepare Craghley for his meeting with Laewin and try to appease the Mother so that he has some help, should his plans fail...

[hr][/hr]

Craghley judged there to be about two marks before sunset. Listlessly, he'd been sitting with his gear amongst the Leafs, fidgetting with his kilt where it had been marred by Laewin's touched. The little girl he was to meet tonight in the dead of night. She who terrified the whiskey right out of his breath, even if it was a 'she' as such. Whatever he had seen in the Wyrd, whatever twisted presence had distanced the life of the forest from his senses, he had to confront it. He'd much rather to just cut it's head from its neck with the sword he now held propped against the earth.
It reminded him of something and soon enough, he got up. Back by last night's campfire, he sat back on his place on the log and gazed at the swordmark that he had made with the others. His pledge...

But Ulder and Thrandil, allies and friends of the highest order, were away. Along with the newcomer, Talanwei Fortisse. The others had seemed to know him; a shame the highlander hadn't the opportunity. Of those who remained, Penth and Draydis were the two closest though he reckoned he would be able to take any concern to Elaine as well. Raevyn... no doubt she was a highly efficient killer. Why did he think of that as though it were a comfort?

Let them know. Laewin didn't say not to bring friends, and if she doesn't want them around... they can leave, I suppose. But you'd be an arrogant fool to think this is just your fight, and that you're undertaking all the work.

That would be arrogance, and he'd never thought that for a second. But this particular thing tonight, he'd got himself into it and it was his repsonsibility to turn it to their advantage.
For that, there was only one other who could truly walk with him into the night. The one to whom he had pledged himself before those of the Swordmark. And he would need her guidance tonight... he must pray.

He could think of no satisfying prayer that consisted of sitting on a log and toying with his sword. Stalking back to his gear, the Achadhiel paced in circles, heart brooding and heavy, a churning stomach in his gut. He always felt apprehensive about reaching out to the Mother and the gifts she had bestowed upon him; which situations merited it, and which were simply an abuse of the power? Only faced with the slavering maws of wolves, and the abomination unveiled that was Laewin had he felt justified for asking for divine intervention.
A fearsome glint drew his eye. The tip of the hunter's spear, gleaming like the full moon.
He had hunted the hunter. He was a hunter... that would be his prayer, the hunt.

Several burns later and he emerged from the camp, minus his sword and kilt but having donned his more practical leggings and wielding the spear (it's tip was veiled by a small sheaf of scrap leather). The bow and arrows he'd left behind, not having learnt to even string the thing let alone aim with it.
Craghley headed away from the city, following the wilderness that fell downwards in the hope of coming across running water that game may frequent.

[Guido Cercatoro]

The guards showed scant interest in Craghley as he departed Pax through the Forest gate and started down a short, steeply descending path that led into the nearby forest. A few paces outside the gates stood a broad, moss-covered tree stump. Sitting on the stump was the largest human that Craghley had ever encountered. The man was clad in a brown rough jerkin, dark green leggings and a pair of battered leather boots. He had placed an elegant, carved longbow on the ground by the stump and was busy whittling a piece of wood with a sharp dagger. Hanging from his broad belt was a huge axe that. As he worked the wood, he was whistling a bright and lilting melody.

As the would-be hunter approached the stump, the man gazed upwards, his eyes alighting on the spear.

“Goin’ hunting I see,” said the man, in a surprisingly light and melodic voice. “Care for a guide? I know the forest better than most.”

[Craghley]

What do you make of this, Craghley Donovan?

Craghley regarded the man for some flickers. He'd planned on performing the hunt alone, as his prayer. Would it please the Mother to follow this man? Did the prospect of a more rewarding hunt outweigh the ritual of him performing it by himself? Was he meant to take this man up on his offer?

This man is part of the ritual, Craghley. He appeared when you needed him, and he shall be your guide.

"I'd be most thankful, sir. My nam, it be Craghley Donovan," he said as he stepped forward to offer his hand. "What fee do I owe ye for yer guidance?"

[Guido Cercatoro]

“Payment by results,” replied the tall man. “You pay me if and when I find the game.”

The woodsman tucked the dagger into his belt, retrieved his long bow and stood up from his seat. He towered above Craghley and offered the would-be hunter a huge hand.

“The name's Vernon. Woodsman, hunter and your guide. Have you any preference for type of game? Large or small? Swift or slow? In the air or on the ground? Dangerous or safe? All can be sought out.” The woodsman spoke with supreme confidence as if he had little doubt about his own ability.

As soon as Craghley had answered his questions, Vernon would stride down the nearby path into the forest.

[Craghley]

"Good Gods, man, I don't even want to know what you'd consider dangerous."

He gladly took the hunter's hand, cautious of his more delicate semi-Adhiel bones.

"For the what, something I could likely get at, so something relatively slow. Even if I could use a bow, that'd rule oot craitures of the wing, sae something of the ground. But something wi' a bit o' fey, no wee bunny rabbit - something tae mak the hunt worth the while, sae a dangerous beast methinks. Mayhap boar, but I'll gladly let ye choose the gam fer whatever yields richer bounty fer yerself."

Should Vernon accept Craghley's preferences and begin the hunt, he would fall in behind.

[Guido Cercatoro]

The woodsman nodded in acknowledgement at Craghley’s request. “I might have just the thing for you. There is a mountain stag I have been stalking a few burns into the forest. He is past his best but still a clever and formidable foe. If we can get close enough you might take him with your spear. If you don’t fancy that, well there is a pack of wild boar a little further into the forest. And, there’s always the bear, of course.”

The path from the Forest Gate descended steeply before it reached the edge of the forest. After a short distance into the forest, the path branched into two forks and the tall woodsman led his companion down the right hand trail. The path narrowed as it twisted through a number of bends to circumvent several rocky outcrops. Nearby, the trickling sound of water could be heard and an overhead canopy of tall, wide-branched trees blanked out much of the sky.

“Well, hunter. I like to know a little about those I take into the forest. So, what brings yer to Pax?”

[Craghley]

Craghley pictured a proud stag... its antlers reminiscent of those of the hunter. He felt a deep misgiving over the whole thing - he'd spent his life caring for the beasts on his family's land, and something in his Adhiel parentage, perhaps, hesitated. But he'd also killed on the farm for food and partaken in meat. Not for him to be the hypocrite.

"It 'twould no dae, takin' ye from yer own hunt. The stag it is, then... 'less we find bear or boar afore it."

“Well, hunter. I like to know a little about those I take into the forest. So, what brings yer to Pax?”

"I cam with a group just yesterday... quite a mob. I... joined some Adhiel friends in Islay tae journey tae the Citadel in time fer the coronation. And just yesterday we all cam with master Synkaaros and his lady Elaine here. Decided to help them out; their own hopes are to lend aid tae the people as have found themselves here, force oot of their hames."

Craghley kept his eyes from the canopy, keeping his vision suited to the darkness it cast upon the forest floor rathert than burning the visible patches of bright sky upon his retinas. He also kept behind the hunter in this narrow trail, careful to examine the experienced woodsman's passage through the terrain.

"How about yerself? How long hae ye bin living here?"

[Guido Cercatoro]

The trail wound its way deeper into the forest and took a series of sharp bends. The woodsman strode purposely forward and despite his giant size, navigated the narrow path with ease. Indeed, he appeared at home in the forest as if he was part of it rather than a temporary interloper.

“I came here with the first settlers,” explained Vernon. “It seemed a good opportunity to explore virgin territory. I have always been a forester, hunter and tracker. I hunt and sell game, keep an eye of goings on in the forest and offer guided tours. And drink in the taverns, of course.” He gave his companion a friendly wink as he glanced backwards.

As the pair ventured further down the trail, Vernon burst into song revealing a surprisingly melodic voice. “I once knew a lady with thighs like a vice, I lost all my gold but she was sure worth the price…”. What transpired between lady and singer was never divulged to Craghley, for the woodsman suddenly drew to halt, gazing up a side trail that led off the main path. A stone marker covered in mud and grime marked the entrance to the trail. Moss grew around the base of the marker and mud was splattered over much of its surface. However, it appeared that beneath the grime some letters were carved into the stone.

With a slight frown on his face, Vernon turned to his companion. “Just a short detour if you don’t mind. There is something up this trail I need to take a look at. In any event we may find some game this way.”

“The trail has a habit of appearing and disappearing,” said the woodsman cryptically. “So when it is here, the opportunity should not be lost.”

[Craghley]

'Yer a wild rover, then. Since ye haven't moved on, I take it the wilds here are to yer liking... but," Craghley added with an equally mischievious wink, "I know about the taverns well enough." He could've added something about the company as well, but too much would be off putting. Vernon seemed like the relatively stoic type; too much chatter would be an irritation rather than point of interest.
Thus it was a little surprising when he started singing. Before he could help himself, he opened his mouth wide and barked out a laugh - which was cut short as Vernon halted.

[quote"Guido"][“The trail has a habit of appearing and disappearing,” said the woodsman cryptically. “So when it is here, the opportunity should not be lost.”/quote]

Now this piqued Craghley's interest. He nodded his agreement silently and waited for the woodsman to move again. For a simple trail to defy this Vernon fellow on occasion... worth checking out.

"The way you speak of it, I'm not so interested in the game as such. Where does it lead, exactly?"

[Guido Cercatoro]

“The last time the path appeared it led to a tower, a drunken halfling and a dog,” replied the woodsman striding down the path. “Who knows what it will lead to this time.”

The path was narrow and wound its way through increasingly dense foliage. “Let me tell you the story of the last time I was here….”

(OOC: you can assume that Vernon tells you the details of this thread)

After a few burns the path emerged into a wide clearing. The clearing was carpeted in a tough grass, although a few large stones poked their way through the green and brown covering at various points. A small bush with some deep, red berries grew in a corner of the clearing. The only other notable feature was a pool of grimy water that had collected in a small depression in one of the rocks, presumably as a result of the rain which had fallen in recent days.

There was no sign of any tower but a huge black dog stood in the middle of the clearing, snarling at the new arrivals.

[Craghley]

"Sae, how'd ye finish up gittin' oot o' there..?"

The question trailed off, interrupted by the resounding snarls. Craghley threw an apprehensive glance from the dog to Vernon, but didn't ready his spear. Nor did he make any attempt to approach the beast as of yet; the less he did to aggrivate it at this point in time, the better. Rather he addressed Vernon once more, quietly, as though the dog might overhear.

"If this is tha' beast - Odif... ye say he calmed doon aefter throwin' him some scran? Well, got aenything on ye at the mo? I donnae want tae gi' him me leg tae soothe the blighter..."

[Guido Cercatoro]

"Sae, how'd ye finish up gittin' oot o' there..?"

Vernon readily recounted what had transpired when he had vanished with the tower….

“After a brief spell of dizziness, I found myself back in the room at the top of the tower. The floor was sturdy once again but Stahl’Or had vanished. Baltimus was there busying himself with some experiment or other. Yet, he took no notice of me. It was as if I was a ghost. I believe that he had no idea I was there.” The woodsman paused for a few flickers, frowning as he recalled the events. “I looked out of the window of the tower into the forest. Now, I know the forest well, yet it had changed. The sound of the birds was different, the trees were different…I am sure that I had travelled back in time to Selderine.”

“I was in the tower for two days and nights. Baltimus never once spoke to me and I could not leave the room. It was as if some barrier prevented me. Then, the dizziness returned and I found myself back in the glade where the tower had been been but it had vanished. The forest was returned to the state that I knew. I returned to Pax and got very, very drunk.”

"If this is tha' beast - Odif... ye say he calmed doon aefter throwin' him some scran? Well, got aenything on ye at the mo? I donnae want tae gi' him me leg tae soothe the blighter..."

As Vernon and Craghley entered the glade, the dog gnarled loudly and paced around the central area as if were guarding the entrance to the vanished tower. Vernon shrugged. “I haven’t anything to tempt the dog I’m afraid. However, I know that the dog stayed with Stahl’or for a time before the dwarf vanished. Perhaps he trained it a little…” The giant woodsman appeared slightly nervous, as if, whilst he was perfectly at home with wild animals, the training of such a beast was not something of which he had any experience.

[Craghley]

“I haven’t anything to tempt the dog I’m afraid. However, I know that the dog stayed with Stahl’or for a time before the dwarf vanished. Perhaps he trained it a little…”

"Well then. Looks like we'll have tae dae it the hard way."

Craghley plunged the spear head-first into the turf. Whatever opportunity this glade offered he wasn't going to shirk from it, vicious guardian or no. Of course, there was always the chance that there was nothing here. He tried not to let that thought give him pause.

"If ye weren't pulling my leg, then this Odif has a gentle side, too." An apprehensive look was given to Vernon. "If this goes ugly you can always use me as bear-bait."

Craghley slowly began to approach the dog the way he'd seen his father do on the farm. But his slow, deliberate movements did not hide his anxiously furrowed brows, sweaty palms, nor a quickening heart. His arms were raised a little way from his sides with palms open, his steps measured and cautious.
He was wary of changes in the beasts' demeanour, and would stop and kneel a few feet before he reached the animal should he not be given reason to pause, or simply bolt.

[Guido Cercatoro]

As Craghley plunged his spear into the ground, the woodsman slowly unslung his huge longbow and threaded an arrow into the string. He nodded to his companion and made ready to cover the dog in case anything untoward occurred.

The dog continued to snarl and pace around the middle of the clearing. However, as the would-be hunter approached, the beast turned to face him baring a set of wicked looking teeth. Drool dripped down one side of its mouth to fall in a foul-looking puddle at its feet but the animal made no hostile move as Craghley knelt down a few paces away.

Behind the beast, the air shimmered and the kneeling clansman caught a brief glimpse of sharp, white stone before the air was empty once again. The dog twisted around in a full circle, whimpering loudly.

“Not again….” Vernon’s words echoed throughout the clearing.

[Craghley]

"What? I thought ye said the thing was gone?"

Craghley's yell reached the edge of the clearing while his eyes roved to and fro the now-empty space and Odif. The beast still appeared a fearsome sight to him even as it whimpered, though the vanishing tower now occupied his thoughts as well.
Well, that dog was a lot more placid now. Maybe he could get a little closer...

Feeling a bit of an idiot - and stretched his palms slightly out and open towards Odif, hoping the animal would interpret it as... what? Some sort of submission, a gesture of good faith? He'd let the dog come to him and not try and chase it, shuffling around on his knees with is arms reaching out and looking like a madman.

"Here, boy," he mumbled in uncertain tones. My, what big teeth you have...

[Guido Cercatoro]

The savage-looking animal cautiously sniffed Craghley’s outstretched hand. Seemingly satisfied with whatever smell it had detected, it began to lick the achadhiel’s palm vigorously. Odif had a warm, rough tongue that had the texture of a scouring brush. The licking was not a pleasant experience but was far more acceptable than a bite of the rather sharp teeth the animal possessed.

“He likes you,” grinned Vernon, lowering his bow. As he spoke, the tower shimmered briefly before fading away. As it vanished, a strangled cry rang out over the clearing. A few flickers later, a squeaky voice floated down from above.

“Er, if you don’t mind, I could do with rescuing.”

Anyone who looked upwards would have been somewhat surprised to see a rather fat bottom, large beer gut and pair of stubby legs dangling down from the top branches of one of the tall trees that lined the clearing. The head and top half of the owner of the limbs and torso was obscured by foliage.

“Er, I’m going to fall in a little while…”

Odif bounded over to the bottom of the tree, yelping excitedly.

[Craghley]

Craghley made a face, and muttered to the beast,
"I hope this washes off easy enough, else I'll... I'll... eh, ye're no sae bad."

Craghley heard the voice, and took a few seconds to locate the point of origin. It was probably Odif's direction and the movement of the body above that gave it away, but he was quick on his feet for this one. Craghley followed the dog while unclasping his wolfskin cloak and yelled out to Vernon for help.

"Can ye climb tae him? Else wise, grab the other side o' me coat and spread it oot! E's a wee bit wide but nae so tall, sae it may support his weight!"
Then he shouted up to the figure above.
"Try an' hit a few branches on the way doon! It'll mak the las' drop a lot shorter!"

Apparently now was not the time for social graces.

[Guido Cercatoro]

It was quickly apparent to both Vernon and Craghley that climbing the tree was not a realistic option. The lower branches were sparse and thin and it would have been difficult to find a purchase. The tall woodsman grabbed hold of one side of his companion’s cloak and they held it out beneath the dangling posterior.

“Bugger", said the squeaky voice. “I’m going to fall.” The owner of the voice was evidently correct, for a flicker later the flailing legs and rear end detached themselves from the tree.

Although the figure that fell from the tree was extremely round and fat, it was only small and the squeaky-voiced fellow plummeted right into the middle of the blanket. As a consequence, Craghley and Vernon were able to take the weight of the fall.

Sitting in the middle of the blanket, eyes blinking, was a very short extremely fat halfling. The halfling sported a long white beard, an ornately decorated red and yellow robe and a huge beer gut barely contained by his clothes.

“Thank you,” he squeaked. But his words of thanks were cut short as Odif leaped on to the blanket, licking the halfling’s face with vigour. The weight of the combined dog and halfling proved too much for the two who were holding the blanket…

Within a flicker, the dog, halfling, woodsman and would-be hunter were collapsed in a heap on the ground. Craghley found his face pressed against the halfling’s behind.

[Craghley]

Craghley's somewhat muted voice emerged from deep within the tangle.

"You're welcome. Vernon, git that bluidy dog offa us."

Craghley did his best to hold his breath and extract himself from the halfling's ample cheeks. Should his eyes meet the woodsman's, they would clearly state that wisecracks would not be tolerated at this moment, though a license may given to use these events for a pub tale.

[Guido Cercatoro]

It was a complicated process but eventually dog, halfling, woodsman and clansman managed to disentangle their limbs and pull themselves upwards to stand in a small circle. Odif, now looking far less terrifying than he had previously, licked the rotund halfling and received a gentle pat in return.

“How kind of you to bring my dog,” beamed the halfling, obviously none the worse for his fall. “I could murder a pint of ale, neither of you happen to have one handy do you?”

Vernon shook his head. “We were on a hunt, Baltimus, not out for a drinking session,” he remarked sourly.

“A hunt! How splendid, I haven’t hunted for a while. What are we hunting? Some great monster no doubt. And you, sir.” He darted an appraising look at Craghley. “Are you some great hunter?”

“I am sure that Nyrellon would want to…” The woodman’s words were interrupted dismissively by Baltimus.

“Yes, she will want to see me, blah, blah, blah. But first the hunt, then a drink and then….” His face darkened. “Well, I suppose we had better save Pax, eh?”

Vernon looked to the heavens in despair before shrugging and turning to Craghley. “What about you, my friend, are you still in the mood for a hunt?”

[Craghley]

Now free, Craghley felt compelled to draw in a deep breath of the wondrous, fresh air. This Baltimus... the Achadhiel might normally have expected something more of the mysterious wights brought to life in this time. But he knew these people had existed ages ago, and were simply alive once more.
How had they died? Where had they gone in that time between? He began to speak.

"No great hunter, sir-"

Vernon cut in, though, and Craghley lapsed back into silence. When asked by Vernon whether to continue the hunt with him, he considered the options; he truly did want to speak with this Baltimus. Such a find! Then again, he was still performing his prayer. Even if the Mother had allowed this, he had not completed the ritual, and still owed Vernon. Craghley satisfied himself with the conclusion that, judging by Baltimus' frame, his 'one drink' would be too large to fit in just one tankard, and they might have time to meet Baltimus finishing off his meal when the hunt was completed.
Craghley shook his head slowly.

"Nae, as intrigued as Ay am by all this, 'twould nae be fair tae ye Vernon tae discontinue the hunt. 'Tis guid we came by in time for ye master Baltimus, and Ay'm glad tae hae helped. P'raps we could talk later? If ye be wondering, Ay am Craghley Donovan."

[Guido Cercatoro]

There was a twinkle in the halfling’s eye as he listened to Craghley’s response. “Craghley Donovan, you say? Well that is a fine name. The name of a drinking man if I’m not mistaken. As is Baltimus, which is, of course, the name that my mother gave to me when I was born. She subsequently gave me many other names but that is no matter. It also happens to be the name of a rather fine ale that I concocted with the help of a master brewer.”

“And do not fear, I have every intention of accompanying you on this hunt. I would not miss the fun. Why, it is a ..er…long time …since I went on a hunt.” The ale-loving halfling frowned before continuing and then darted a quick look at the would-be hunter. “This is the first time we have met, isn’t it?”

Vernon slung his bow over his shoulder and made his way to an exit from the clearing that lay on the opposite side to the one through which they had entered. Once he had heard Craghley’s reply, the halfling mage waddled off to follow Venon. Odif padded along behind the mage.

The path out of the clearing rapidly degenerated into a barely discernible track but the woodsman pressed on in silence. All was quiet apart from the distant sound of twittering birds.

[Craghley]

"Nay, Ay do not think we've met before. If it were anything like just now, Ay ken Ay'd hae remembered."

Craghley walked away to retrive his spear, cloak in hand. With a tug he unearthed it and, very carefully, wiped the blade clean with the wolfskin afore clasping it back round his neck. The spear he kept ready at hand as after Vernon he went.
He did his best to keep quiet and inconspicous amidst the woods as he followed. His best, of course, could not hope to match his guide. He could only hope it was enough not to scare off any game, game for which Craghley's eyes were kept open and darting sharply round. Silently, obediently, and ready, he followed Vernon.

[Guido Cercatoro]

The woodsman led his companions deeper into the forest. The foliage became denser and only a few beams of light managed to fight their way through the upper branches of the trees that now shaded most of the forest floor. Birdsong died away; only the faint sound of a distant stream disturbed the silence. Even the jovial Halfling fell mute.

Vernon suddenly crouched low and motioned for his companions to follow his lead. There was a perplexed look on the tall man’s face. He put one finger to his lips and then pointed ahead.

If Craghley’s eyes followed the line of Vernon’s pointing hand, he would see that a little further into the forest the rough path finished in a small clearing. Standing in the middle of the clearing with its back facing the direction of the hunters could be seen a large stag. The beast had its head lowered to the base of a broad tree that stood in the middle of the clearing. The base of the tree was covered in round, red berries which the stag appeared to be nibbling.

Stroking his chin thoughtfully, the woodsman shrugged and his eyes fell upon Craghley’s spear. Moving his hand from his chin, Vernon opened his palm wide, clearly inviting his companion to move closer, perhaps to take the stag with his spear….

[Craghley]

It seemed Vernon's expertise had guided the party well. So well, in fact, that he might have happened upon the quarry the woodsman had told Craghley he'd just been tracking. Craghley's eyes flickered to Baltimus, then settled on Vernon as he ducked down and laid the spear flat upon the earth. From their cover he peered at the stag.

What interested him just as much as the stag was the lone tree in the clearing. From this distance he had no idea what kind of tree it was, nor the berries it dropped. It didn't seem likely that would change even if he got a closer look, but he'd like to examine it. The tree just seemed a curious oddity.

Vernon caught Craghley's attention then to invite him to take the beast. He looked back to the creature with its' back still to them. That was practically ideal; there's no way he could sneak up on the beast from its' flanks without being seen. Craghley raised himself to a hunched stance ready to leave their cover, but stopped.
He scanned the clearing - watching the direction of falling leaves. To be double sure he wet his right index finger and pointed it skywards to feel the wind. It would be pointless to waste this opportunity if the creature would smell him coming - still wary of the stag, Craghley attempted to tell the direction of the wind.