Morning of the
fourth day, an abandoned observatory
In the morning Zoltan
moves from brother to brother lightly brushing shoulders, filling
your cups with herbal tea and serving hard slices of bread,
toasted and softened by honey. He has laid out the last of the
supplies. “A couple of days left” he murmurs. He has smeared ash
under his eyes to shield them from the reflection of the sun but it
is still before dawn when you leave and in the course of forenoon the
sun never shows himself behind snow filled clouds.
You follow Zoltan North
past barren trees and the frozen pools. It seems to you as if the
pattern of pools had meaning, as if they were letters written on the
fields by the snow and pounced by winter but their meaning eludes
you. Soon you hear singing and you pass a brook with icy shards
drifting within it and it sings a hymn to winter. You check on the
pit you dug and inside lies a dead wolf. Later you hear a high
pitched whining and Heldris points you towards a copse of wood where
he and Perilake laid another trap and you see a horned wolf pierced
on a spear and struggling to free herself. There is a figure standing
on a nearby hill with a tunic the colour of frosted dawn. They are
watching you and the wolf.
Ser Perilake, The
Gilded Knight
"We should end its
suffering..." Perilake says grimly, unshouldering the bow he
still carries from Anastasz and an arrow, notching it loosely. But as
he steps toward the copse and the whining, he glimpses the figure.
"Who goes there?" He yells as he turns and readies to
draw and fire if this stranger turns to be foe.
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Milos lays a hand on
Perilake's bow arm."Hold, brother. This is the first person
we meet in this realm and their open approach suggests an invitation.
Let me attempt to parley." And when he notices a familiar
frown return to Heldris' face he adds: "I will be cautious."
 |
| Adler, a Hunter and Merchant of Dreams |
Referee
The figure is tall and
lean but you can't make out their features and first you assume a
wind tugs at their clothes but there is no wind and it is the tunic's
colour that shifts.
Sir Heldris the Dove
Knight
The wolf's whinings
brings a feeling of discomfort to Heldris, like an echo of something
from within. He shivers when Perilake speaks of ending the beast, but
he simply nods in agreement, feeling observed all of a sudden. As
they spot the figure on the hill, he catches Milos' gaze. Thinking
that the Fox Knight might have understood his feelings about the
beast, he frowns. Then at his words, he breathes easier, and nods
"Be careful."
Sir Anastaz, The
Salt Knight
Anastaz, more
hunched than usual, wrapping his cloak against the piercing cold,
allows his hand to creep almost imperceptibly to the handle of his
mace.
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Milos begins the
ascent of the hill in the open but does dip out of sight brielfy as
he passes through a copse of pine trees. He draws no weapon and looks
steadily ahead at the mysterious figure. As he approaches, he raises
his left hand in an open gesture, the ivory ring clearly visible on
his index finger. "Well met, stranger."
Referee
You climb the hill
observed by the tall figure. As you get closer you can see that their
skin is very pale and shines like moonlight, their black hair is long
and straight and the bones of their face unnaturally fine. You can't
discern if they are male or female and they look at you without
expression: “We rarely see one of your kind in the kingdom.
Sometimes we hunt them .... " They speak hesitantly but with a
silvery voice. "Are you lost?”
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
"Hunting is an
honorable pursuit" and he glances down toward his comrades
dispatching the wolf. "But as guests in your realm, we hope
to not become the hunted ourselves." He makes a short bow
toward the stranger."We are unfamiliar with this land but
not lost. We follow something that has not been settled properly."
Referee
They nod as if in
agreement. Behind them is a sled with pelts and sacks and a spear.
Under the coat their tunic is made from the finest
linen and embroidered with leaves and berries. “Most of the plump
folk look like prey.” With a glance at your ring they curl their
lip.”Are you travelling in service of the King?”
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
"We have exchanged
courtesies with the King but are not in his service. Perhaps we could
do the same with you? We have two wolf pelts down below." He
smiles and raises his eyebrows playfully.
Referee
Their slanted blue eyes
sparkle under fine, dark brows. “A trade … but not of furs.”
They come very close in disregard of the space a Knight usually
commands around him or her. “What do you desire?” Their breath is
sweet and musky like fenugreek and they are too close to see their
expression.
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Milos feels his
breath catch a bit and a flush of excitement spreads across his
chest. Perhaps it is the audacity of their approach, or their shining
black hair, or simply the thrill of a bargain offered. He gently
tilts his head back with a smile. "We are strangers in a
strange land. We seek warm hospitality for the night and a generous
feast. If the pelts are not to your liking, what else might I offer
you? "
Referee
With a poised lean they
breathe in deeply. “There is much you can give me but … let me
meet the other travellers first. We parley!” Soon you all sit
around a fire under the canopy of trees, the stranger on their sled
made from beautifully carved cherrywood, and you on tree stumps. You
cannot remember them building the fire or placing skewers of hares
over it, their movements are flowing and never rushed and yet not
easy to follow. They introduce themselves as Adler, a hunter and
merchant of sorts. “I can take you to Stribog and the Rusalki of
the west, a mere day of travel ... or two for the likes of you ...
and you will never forget that Feast.” There is a dangerous glint
in their eyes and then they make a dismissive gesture with slender
hands “ … or I can sell you food for a couple of days.” They
look from one to the next until their gaze remains on the Salt Knight
and they raise their eyebrows and now they smile for the first time,
revealing pointed teeth. “I trade you what you desire … if you
allow me to visit your dreams.”
 |
| Wintery Hills |
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Sir Milos cannot
help but take delight in both the boldness and the menace of the
proposal. "To welcome you into our dreams is a... precious
intimacy. " Letting himself linger suggestively on the last
words. "We would need to confer amongst ourselves. And to
clarify, while travelling together and upon arrival among the
Ruslaki, we would be your guests, bound by the ancient rules of
hospitality. " He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head so his
suddenly lengthened white hair drapes to one side.
Sir Anastaz, The
Salt Knight
The Salt Knight
glances at Perilake. "I am prepared to make any sacrifice
that will bring us closer to our goal. We must recover our strength
before facing the Herald."
Sir Heldris the Dove
Knight
The dead wolf's last
breath still lingering over Heldris' mind, he peers at the stranger,
suspicious. "We don't have much choice," he says, "let's
accept their terms but let us be watchful, both over our dreams and
over any food we'll be served."
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Sir Milos places his
hand over the Salt Knight's mouth. "Have care, my friend. Do
not speak of making 'any sacrifice' within earshot of a Fae."
Slowly, he removes his hand.
Ser Perilake, The
Gilded Knight
Perilake nods at
Anastaz's words, then at Milos's. He turns to Adler. "This
Rusalki, are they allies of Tizra?"
Referee
Adler had moved away
from you to allow you to speak freely among brothers and pretends to
observe the sky, almost comically leaning their slender body back. In
an instant they stand next to you - much too close for your liking.
“Tizra, the Herald? Of course not!” they exclaim. “All Rusalki
have pledged loyalty to the king, but ..." They lean in even
closer as if to reveal a great secret. "Stribog yearns for
spring to finally come and the king is old. I wouldn't be surprised
if he were the first to declare Coredis, Tizra's master, the new
king.”
"Hear my
proposal", Adler produces a rose briar from his coat and winds a
strain of their hair around it. A single drop of blood runs down the
stem. “The hills are my witness: All those present will be honoured
guests in Striborg's Brugh. A Feast will be held for them, a feast so
fine and wild that they will never forget it.” With a quick step
they are at Anastaz' side holding out the briar invitingly. “A gift
for a gift: I, Adler, will be allowed to visit the dreams of Elfbane,
take and leave as I please."
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Milos' face betrays
surprise at Adler's focus on the Salt Knight. He steps forward before
Anastaz can agree. "If the dream visit is for only one night
and I may enter as well to protect my friend's interests."
Referee
“Just once?” Adler
exclaims in exasperation. “I promised an exquisite feast that few
mortals have ever witnessed for the permission to visit your dreams,
to come and go, take and leave as I please. For just a taste of your
dreams I'll sell you a week worth of supplies and you can celebrate
with bread and water.” They look at Ser Perilake with a smile full
of pointed teeth. “I have what you crave most, a map of the kingdom
including the location of the Elf's palace, The Halls of Desire, and
I will gladly add it to our deal ... but your young white-haired
friend stays in his place and out of my dealings with Elfbane.”
Sir Anastaz, The
Salt Knight
Anastaz crosses his
legs and leans back against his stump. "While you are a guest in
my dreams, no harm will be done to me?" he asks Adler.
Referee
Adler stares at you
with wide eyes in an expression of shock and withdraws the briar.
“Harm?! You mistake an artist for a butcher! Of course I will
explore the scar tissue of a life lived to its fullest and as all
great pieces of art the experience can be intense or even troublesome
…“ They pause for a moment, adding quickly: "... for the
weak minded!" Adler holds out their empty hand reassuringly “But
for a champion like you these will be moments to relive and cherish!”
They look back at Ser Perilake in search of support. "Of course,
if you would rather wander around the kingdom aimlessly instead of
being invited to a most splendid Feast..."
Ser Perilake, The
Gilded Knight
"Sir Milos alone?
Cruel indeed. The fox does like to involve himself." Perilake
smiles fondly but wryly at Milos, a glint in his eyes. "It
is Anastasz who must agree, not I."
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
The Fox Knight leans
in close to Anastaz and whispers in his ear. "Perilake may
think me meddlesome but you must understand that you would be bound
to this creature for all your days. He would be free to commerce in
your dearest secrets. Choose your path here carefully!"
Ser Perilake, The
Gilded Knight
Perilake looks at
Anastasz. "This map would be useful. But we have other
means. And the Winter King has some fondness for us, or -" he
glances at Milos, and his white mane. "- some of us, at
least." He looks around at his brothers. "Now we are
here, in this kingdom, together - I have no doubts. I know what you
would do for me, for... for Avert. I know deeper still that without
any of that, you are good men. A child of the realm was taken, and
you would honour our oaths even if it were that you had never sworn
them. No matter the challenge, we will overcome it, with or without
the aid of these... Rusilka." He meets Alders eyes, and
studies the capricious features of the fae.
"You offer a
tempting bargain, Adler. A fine deal... but I will not speak for it.
No matter the depths of my sorrow, I have spent most of my life
hoping of better dreams for my brother, for salt to know the
sweetness that I have enjoyed." His eyes turn briefly to
Milos, almost imperceptibly. "No matter the pain it has
brought me."
Sir Anastaz, The
Salt Knight
Anastaz considers
his comrade's words. He gestures for Adler to hand him the briar, and
plucks a hair from the back of his head. The root is just beginning
to gray. He takes the briar and winds the hair around, and a thorn
sinks into his thumb. His blood slowly drips down the stem and plops
onto the barren soil as he hands the briar back. As if to no one in
particular, he says, "Were it my son, you'd do the same for
me."
Referee
“Bound by breath and
hair, sealed by blood” Adler proclaims with gravity while observing
the briar and then they turn to the sled, retrieve a rolled up
piece of tanned leather and hand it to the Salt Knight. “Most
excellent, I will make haste and talk to Striborg to have the feast
prepared.” They jump without effort onto the sled. “Just follow
the mountain path to the valley of clouds and move west over the
scree slope. From there you will see the smoke from Striborg's
Brugh.” The next moment the sled takes them down the hill and soon
they disappear into the slowly falling snow.
 |
| Black Trees and frozen Ponds |
You are crossing the
desolate bog past frozen pools and black trees until you reach the
mountain pass and begin the ascend. As light starts to fade snowfall
turns heavy and deliberate and when you reach the valley again you
can't see further than your breath. It is cold and very still. Out of
the whiteness of the clouds a white mare approaches. She trots slowly
towards Ser Perilake, old and frail, and she bows her head and paws
the ground three times. You see a saddle on her back made for a king
and woven from bone and shadow. ”I am your servant Ser Perilake”
she neighs with a high brittle voice, “The Winter King sends me.
Will you accept his present?”
Ser Perilake, The
Gilded Knight
There is a moment
where Perilake considers a talking horse with some astonishment, then
with some revulsion, then with more pity. "What price?"
Referee
She shakes her mane and
snorts. There is a sparkle of humour in her wise eyes but she doesn't
speak and just looks at you patiently. It is getting dark and you
still have to climb the mountain saddle to reach the abandoned hut
that had been your shelter before.
Ser Perilake, The
Gilded Knight
"I accept the
present, if it be freely given." He takes the reins, but does
not climb into the saddle. "What is your name, old one?"
Referee
The mare gives a short
gentle snort that sounds like “Sivka” but speaks no more as if
everything important had already been said. The reins are of a soft
white leather with fine silver threads woven into them and you lead
her north or maybe she is leading you. It is after dark when you
arrive at the hut under the tall fir trees. Zoltan removes the
precious saddle and carries it inside. You gather wood from the
fallen branches and soon a fire is burning in the ancient hearth and
some time later you feel your toes and fingers again.
Sir Heldris the Dove
Knight
Heldris is holding
his hands out before the fire. “That Adler is an unsettling
fellow,” he almost whispers to the flames. He turns to Anastaz,
on whose face the fire is casting unquiet shadows. “Your dreams
are yours only, even if they come from some strange place as this.”
he smiles with his old calm, “whatever thing they’ll show
you, I’m sure you’ll shake it off with dawn. Your mind has always
been the strongest.” He reaches for the pot and starts pouring
the stew in bowls and passing them around.
Sir Anastaz, The
Salt Knight
Anastaz nods curtly.
"Sticks and stones..." but he seems far off. For a
moment, when the Dove Knight glances towards his friend, he is gone,
even as his silhouette on the wall makes the motions of eating. But
of course, that's impossible, and when Heldris blinks, Anastaz is
back before the fire.
 |
| Adler's map (it's easier to read when you squint) |
A dream
The night air is warm
and heavy with the scent of jasmine. Shrouded in a delicate twilight,
the vault of the sky seems close enough to touch as Milos lays upon a
grassy knoll looking up at stars. He absently runs his hand through
the luxurious grass that surrounds him. Another figure approaches,
climbing the hill in steady silent steps. He kneels next to Milos.
His strange blue eyes betray a tender melancholy reminiscent of the
sea after a hard rain. “My Lord?” “No, no longer. I cannot bear
to bind you any longer, young one. Although you may choose to leave
me, I must release you from my service now. I yearn for the joy of
watching you run free, my Fox.” He reaches out and runs his
fingertips along Milos’ cheek. And something long tightened,
unwinds within the young knight’s belly, and a sense of freedom and
possibility blossoms there in its place. Alongside the freedom,
unforeseen, a forgotten passion ignites throughout The Fox’s body.
He grabs the older man’s hand and pulls him into a passionate
embrace. Their bodies crush the delicate grass in the ardor of their
newfound passion for one another. And somewhere in the distance,
another voice laughs.
Milos wakes slowly from
the dream and as his eyes open they fall upon the sleeping figure of
the Salt Knight. At the sight of his noble comrade, his hands rise
involuntarily to cover his face in shame.
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