The Children of Bohat VIII

The Halls collapse
The Last Dawn
Perilake's Quest
Sons and Daughters

The hour before dawn of the 3nd Riverday of Petals, Tizra's Halls

Referee

The ground is shaking and more dust falls onto the ground. You walk through an endless succession of corridors until finally you smell something musky and foul and you come upon another hall with three cauldrons hanging in a massive hearth. A girl is standing on a stool holding a long ladle, that she has dipped into one of the cauldrons that is too big for her to reach otherwise. The stench in the room is overwhelming.  

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz mutters, "Hold my nose, please,"to Marko. He runs to the girl. "Biljana, your mother sent me. You don't need to serve Tizra anymore. Come with me, we must leave now." He shifts Marko under his left arm, and extends his right hand to Biljana. 

Referee

Marko lifts his tired head and pinches your nose. You hear the cold voice again. It sounds very pleased and whispers. “Feel the despair Salt Knight as much as I felt it when my Lord was banished and I was left behind.” The walls shake and a large stone from the ceiling drops onto the floor. One of the cauldron tip over and something massive plops on the floor. Biljana jumps from her stool with a scream barely evading the hot liquid. She looks confused but her eyes are clear. She blinks and wordlessly grabs your hand.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz hoists Biljana up over his right shoulder like a sack of barley and begins to run. As he is about to leave the chamber of cauldrons, he glances back over his shoulder at what came out of the cauldron. 

Referee

You see the body of a young man, without the scars he should have on his torso where Sir Vladimir and Lady Bianca pierced him, without the deep lines that life drew on your face. But it is just an empty vessel without a soul.

Bijlana guides you through trembling corridors until you hear the sound of rushing water and soon you step out behind a waterfall as dust whirls out of the collapsing tunnel. A path of rough stones leads up onto the peak where the Vyměněnec rests against the cairn. You must have been in the halls for hours but now the sun rises in the east. The creature is in a state of terrible deformation, skin and flesh dragged down towards the earth and unable to speak but the children recognize his kindness and sit next to him until the end.

Another gloomy Hall

  

The hour before dawn of the 3nd Riverday of Petals, Bohat

Sir Heldris the Dove Knight

In the cursed night, Heldris looks within for the warmth of the sunlight to cast away the darkness of this ancient curse. "I will not fall for your tricks!" he shouts with a painful effort. 'I lifted this curse twenty years ago', he wishes to add, but speech dies in his mouth as his jaw burns with pain. He looks up at the grinning child and the sky behind her burns with radiant sunlight in the Dove Knight's vision. He unsheathes his sword and takes a step forward.

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

Milos watches Biljana from the shadows as she laps up the milk. He smirks to himself and shakes his head slightly. But before he can act, his throat tightens, as if a hand were gently but inexorably closing around it. Not choking. Claiming. His tongue goes dry with the old taste of honey and iron. And a familiar voice caresses his thoughts “Young one, this is a matter of old debts that do not concern us.” Milos falls to one knee and bows his head, his body acting of its own volition. “The true danger is at your side, not before you.” He hears a stifled growl as Heldris steps forward to confront what presents as the girl. She looks up from her cup and stares Milos in the eye before turning her attention to the Dove Knight.

Referee

Sir Heldris, for a short moment the town square is gone and with it the wagon and the girl and you find yourself in the shadow of the looming arch to which Colmán had carried you all these years ago. And the sun breaks through the clouds and shines onto your features that are not that of a hound any more and the sun has a white face and she smiles upon you with love. Then you stumble forward but catch yourself and your sword is in your hands and The Fox Knight before you.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake grits his teeth, even that small action seeming to take his concentration, and focuses on the small falcon. His hands spasm for vital seconds, but as he closes them on the hilt of Rzeznick the cold steel seems to give them life. A familiar feeling, on this blade that lay near Bohat for ages unknown. This enchanted steel will surely not fail him even as his limbs have under this dark spell. Not when Avert lies above. But the mere touch of the blade does not banish the stupor - and so with all his might, Perilake seeks its bite. One hand clutches the unsheathed steel, and his flesh parts, blood pouring out along with a volcano of startling pain. 

A large pale Face

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

Milos witnesses his comrade’s struggle with pained sympathy. He rises and looks up at Biljana. “You overplay your hand, fierce one. Curses are contracts and who holds the rights to this one? If you awaken it, you claim stewardship of it. Continue on this path and any victory you may claim will be pyrrhic. Desist now and we can negotiate.” He sets his jaw and stands his ground.

Referee

“A wrangler of words, I see, despised in this world and in all others.” She shows her teeth and hisses. “I do not own the sun and yet it warms my skin and winds fill my sail for me to steer it whichever way I desire.”

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

“Despise me or not, it does not matter. Words have power, contracts must be honored, debts must be paid, do not imagine that I am unschooled in the old ways. You cannot take what bears another’s mark. And I stand where I choose.” He moves forward and takes the Dove Knight’s hand in his.“I bind myself to him.” The voice inside Milos booms “No!” in outrage. The Fox Knight gasps and winces in pain, but holds tightly to Heldris’ hand. Through clenched teeth “If you touch him, you declare war on the one who holds me. How many enemies are you willing to make tonight, I wonder? You cannot take me. You cannot break what stands beside me without trespass. Will you duel us both, hobbled as you will be?”

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake grits his teeth, even that small action seeming to take his concentration, and focuses on the small falcon. His hands spasm for vital seconds, but as he closes them on the hilt of Rzeznick the cold steel seems to give them life. A familiar feeling, on this blade that lay near Bohat for ages unknown. This enchanted steel will surely not fail him even as his limbs have under this dark spell. Not when Avert lies above. But the mere touch of the blade does not banish the stupor - and so with all his might, Perilake seeks its bite. One hand clutches the unsheathed steel, and his flesh parts, blood pouring out along with a volcano of startling pain.

Referee

A large pale face is looking into the room, the skin a peculiar whitish glow like mother-of- pearl and you understand why Avert mistook the face for the moon. The Herald of the Elf stands outside and all is silent and you cannot move. Then he is in the room and he bends forward in a stilted manner and blood pours out of your hand and sweat stings in your eyes and still you cannot move and next he has Avert in his arms, your son, and now he stands outside and now he is gone. All you can do is scream.  

Sir Milos, you hear a scream from the mayor's house and Biljana smiles. “I "will not - I wish no quarrel with you or your lord." She jumps down. “The Gilded Knight's son is gone. Tizria's Halls will fall and bury the children of this village. I will leave nothing but sorrow. My purpose is fulfilled." She bows with a grand, mocking flourish. "Now, Fox Knight, tell me: who outfoxed whom?” As soon as her last words are spoken, she collapses on the floor next to the booth like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

Sir Heldris the Dove Knight

The Dove Knight's sword stops its swinging motion midair, as the scream from the mayor's house echoes throughout the sleeping village. At Biljana's words he turns towards his brother with a worried look. As the empty vessel of Biljana collapses on the floor, they rush towards the mayor’s house. Their hearts pounding, they hope this is yet another trick and little Avert is well in his bed.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

But when they arrive, their worst fears are confirmed. Bartek stands helplessly, sword drawn, and looks pale as he guards the door. The old warrior raises his blade as you approach, seemingly eager to put his strength to use, then recognises you and stands aside worldlessly. Through the open door you see Lady Inga clutching to Perilake, blood smeared across them both and pouring from a wound on his hand. The Gilded Knight's sword lies at his feet and his once strong voice is broken as he whispers.

"The Herald has my son."  

~ EPILOGUE ~

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

Milos leans against a willow tree on a rise overlooking Dunja’s small homestead. A gentle breeze sways the branches around him. He has strategically positioned himself upwind of the tannery stench. Below he sees Biljana helping her mother set out some hides for drying in the sun. Dunja pushes her daughter's shoulder playfully in some private jest. Biljana laughs out loud and the sound carries on the wind to the keen ears of the Fox Knight. He smiles to himself and looks down at the tattered red ribbon he is winding over and over through his fingers. Then he drops it into his pocket and turns to walk back to the village. 

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

In the wake of their son's disappearance, Lady Inga returns to Farkash, accompanied by Bartek. Though many come to offer their comfort, the scarred soldier turns them all away silently at Inga's door, and she is barely seen. Her door only opens at the Pigeon Knight's call, drawn by the tale already spreading across the land. 

Her husband does not return with her, but sets out immediately to try and find any trace of Avert. His brother knights offer their aid, but the duties of Sceptremass call. Perilake pays no heed, no care to the possible insult to the king or the blow to the fragile reconciliation they have worked for. Whether the company stays or goes, nothing changes. The golden warmth of his smile is replaced by the cold glint of metal, though the armour itself now weighs heavily. An unfamiliar sneer twists his face at the suggestion of the King's aid in his quest, and it is a sorrowful parting between brothers. 

He travels onwards, seeking out each of the Seers in turn. The visions of the Cured Seer show him his son, in a perverse court of seasons and strangeness. The Tangled Seer warns that threatening the Elves may threaten the realm, even as he offers the hope that Avert can be saved, even as he says that all may be doomed in the pursuit. For a mad moment, Perilake considers cutting through the tangled knots of possibilities... but he remembers his oaths. For now. 

Each seer he asks 'Where is my son', and it is the Veiled Seer who answers; a single word, a name. A place. A place he cannot find. 

He travels onwards, northwards, seeking the Entombed Seer and any others. In the dark nights, the cloak of sorrow burns with anger, and he thinks of the Herald. Of the plinths and their offerings and a bargain he would now take. 

But on the road, he is not met by the omens he seeks but by his former squire. The Pigeon Knight has flown far, and brings a plea from the Lady Inga. And Perilake cannot refuse

The Wheel of the Year turns once more

Sir Heldris the Dove Knight

In the wake of that horrible night in Bohat, as Perilake saddles his horse and prepares to leave, the Dove Knight pleads with him to accept their help and let them join his quest. But within his sorrow the Gilded Knight’s good sense does not falter, as he reminds his brothers of the duties of the realm; of Farkash Citadel, of Sceptremass, of the risk of letting resentment prevail. Heldris nods in silence, and with tears obfuscating his eyes bids farewell to his old friend. Back at home he keeps his mind busy with the many tasks of the holding, and the Gilded Knight’s misfortune leads him to spend as much time as he can with his brothers, lest they let themselves be overwhelmed by sorrow. Or at least that’s what he tells himself, as he finds great comfort in their company. Lady Hedwig travels often to Farkash, to offer Heldris her immovable shoulder. Their daughter Annegrit has grown fast and shows great sense. With the shadow of Avert's absence stalking in everyone's mind, she spends more and more time with Lady Inga, keeping her busy with walks and chatter, discussing the property of plants, the movement of the stars, and the duties of her future knighthood

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

The refugee children of Oakfell sit in the dirt surrounding the Fox Knight as he tells them a fantastical story about a lazy girl, a bowl of porridge, and a clever hedge pig. He plays each character fully, makes grand gestures, and absurd faces. Upon finishing, he asks: who can tell me the moral of the story then? Agafya pops her head out from her hiding place beneath Milos’ chair “Names have power. Guard them well” And another small boy in the back of the circle adds: “And trick others into revealing them!” Milos laughs and stands. “Well, the lessons are learned well then and story time is over. Who wants to help me gather kindling for the fires tonight? “ Many hands go up and the Fox Knight leads the children into the scrub surrounding Farkash holding

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