Realms of Myth

A lot of grattitude

From a little elf

While being patched up, I thought I would mention how thrilling it was to fight by Arthur Miller’s side. He not only thought swiftly and managed to instantly slay one of those beasts, but when I was overpowered by the sickness their stench caused me, He got me to a distance where I could recover. Then when I was pierced with this arrow, he got between myself and the other Bru Beasts to protect me while slaying yet another beast. He used his weapons and his magic to turn around what could have been a deadly outcome for us.

The way he ran towards creatures that far outnumbered him, reminded me of being back with my war band. He looked out for me and fought bravely in a way much like my Fianna brothers.

I must admit, I’m embarrassed that I’ve been wounded in battle. This wound will scar. Normally, I would be thinking about removing such a thing as it will become a permanent flaw… However, I think I may keep the scar as a memorial of this day… A day I had the honor of slaying evil beasts with Arthur Miller.

Immediately after my wound is tended, we need to go after the knights. We can not let them get away. I need to sleep badly since the battle has left me drained, but will do so on the horse, I just wont be able to take point.


It was a race from Lamneth through the mists, and this time it was Caudraí seeing things. Pulling away from Robert the Younger (good lord we need to get that boy some proper Lucien’ing and turn him into a knight!) and the young and quiet Valet, Caudraí confessed to Oak and Arthur that he was certain he was seeing people in the mist, armed for battle.

It turned out, he wasn’t just seeing things.

Oak went and inhaled incense, and slaughtered a small bird. He consulted the guts and sang what sounded like angry praises in his tongue. He returned with a future vision of a town by a ferry overrun by ram-men with black fur out of the Dark in a hard and driving rain. We all reveled in the inspiring power of oraculation.

Back in camp, Oak twizzled his hazel wand, first drawing the fog in like streamers around his horse and then with a flourish, casting it yards back, unpeeling in layers like a dancer’s veils coming off. We were left in a hemisphere of clarity.

In a bubble apart from the mists, we raced on.

We stopped in the night by the roadside in the center of Nowhere, Dansus. The rain poured down with a vengeance. But it cleared the rain.

The next gloaming, we stopped near a caravan for information as darkness came down the road. Arthur extended himself to create a healing for a set of pilgrims, and convinced them to return to their origin to resolve family problems. They told us of an inn 3 furlongs on, and we chose to continue, aching, into the dark.

We arrived at a small waystation inn. They were busily closing up for the night. Inside excessive cheerfulness abounded as bright as a 7-year-old who’s crapped his pants in church but has to talk to the monsignor about God.

The story came out that a great battle was being fought in the mists each night, the spirits mostly out-doors, but not always.

As Oak partied the night away, Arthur gathered himself and walked the perimeter of the site, gathering and shedding light as he went, the walls soaking it up, an awed crowd gathering.

Finally, in peace, we all slept.

Oak and Cawdry had a conversation about the challenges of being out of one’s element and unwelcomed. They reached some accord.

The next day, we raced on. Arriving at the Cat & Wheel as night fell. The farms seemed quiet except for some disturbed patterns in the partly-mown fields. We cantered into the inn enclosure after dark with no one in a hurry to close the gates.

We were greeted by a surly blacksmith, and his crippled stable-boy. Cael, feeling somewhat poorly, stayed with the horses to rest a few minutes, and then join us inside.

The inn-folk were sparse and strange. A strangely-helpful Knight of Justice inside was not telling the same story with his mouth, and his words and deeds. Cawdry suggested that given previous experiences with Knights and Justice, that perhaps Oak could… help make sure the Knight slept fully and quietly that evening.

The companions settled to dinner at the high table with the night and Cawdry left his companions to check on Sir Cael. In the barn, there was no one but signs of mayhem that led him to the hay loft to find a gnawed-on body of what was likely the original (uncrippled) stable boy. Thence to the roof and witness to the end of a fight between the cripple and Sir Cael. The boy fell to his death in the courtyard.

Sir Cael, stricken, followed Cawdry down and went to check on the boy. Cawdry continued into the smithy, thinking about their greeting. Another smith was setting up a small anvil and detail tools. Cawdry asked about the stables and guests while the smith sharpened his common sword. Finally coming to the point, Cawdry asked about the stable boy, and when the smith’s answer did not speak the truth or any concern, Cawdry cut the man’s head from his shoulders.

The other smith – taken in tow – was a silversmith hired to do work on some kind of silver cup or something that was being delivered by a company of knights.

Inside was disaster. Everyone passed out at their food. The small staff missing.

Arthur managed to rouse himself and work enough benediction to free himself and Oak from the poison that had soporized them. The elfin sleeping draught he had given the Knight of Justice proved to be a kind of FriendMaker, and the Knight spilled a dark story: he had been hired to manage this place as a Waystation of the Dark. The Bru had been sent to serve him. When the horn arrived, they contrived to do something terrible with it and consecrate this place to evil purposes.

The company rode quickly out with terrible plans and fire to the church where they found not the Bru but only their desecration. They had gone somewhere north, perhaps in the direction of the Horn, which had obviously been approaching this place. Relievappointed, we returned to the inn.

We found the missing inn-folk chained in a basement below the stables with stories of being feed-stock for the Bru. We freed them, gave them supplies and urged them to flee for the County seat to return with the Reeves and the lord, and to be deeply cautious of what they found when they returned.

They slept fitfully to gather some rest to go and find the dark knights having the Cup.

In the morning, Idris confessed his murder of a knight of justice and theft of the man’s clothing, of his death wish and his intent to rise as a servant of darkness. His litany of crimes run out, Cawdry sentenced him to death in the name of the King for his crimes against Shanria. The man said he had planned all along to repent if he were caught. As Cawdry prepared the rope in the barn, Arthur offered the man a chance to repent his wickedness and to receive the light.

As Cawdry kicked the stool out from underneath him, it did seem to some of us as though darkness were falling away.

Staying to tend to the travelers and get things ready, Cawdry missed Oak and Arthur’s impromptu confrontation with the Bru. Arthur unleashed the strokes of the Light, crashing and frying and deafening the rammen with a cacophony of the font of being. Oak pinned them inside the desecrated church and then called molten earth as if from hell to light the roof and structure aflame.

Cawdry arrived to put a few arrows into the creatures as they put one into Oak, and the building fell.

A lot of grattitude

So much has happened over the last few days, it is clear that some of the information may have gotten confused…

The fake knight under the sleep aid confessed that the horn was being delivered by the 4 knights, then he was to take the horn to be altered somehow by the silver smith that Sir Cawdry encountered earlier. After the alterations were to be made, the impostor was to meet up with that evil foe with the Imps and give it to him.

The Brue were a group of creatures assigned by dark forces to assist in creating the way station of evil… But there was no relation between the horn and the Brue. I do wonder why this place was chosen to be a waystation of evil… But that is not as much of a concern at the moment since we were discovered by the imp to have foiled the plot to alter the horn. Now the imp is off and we assume it is to warn the knights to change plans. They are about 3 days out from us and knowing how close it is, we can not let further distance build between us and the horn.

Oh and the wand is Oak not Hazel… :)

A lot of grattitude

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