The wolf hours before the dawn of the 9th day, a cave
Referee
Sir Anastaz, it is long
past midnight when the Dove Knight gently wakes you up.
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
As always, Anastaz's
eyes open without difficulty. It has been a long time since he's
gotten a good night's sleep.
Referee
The fire is almost burned down and in its twilight strange shadows move. You poke the ambers and fan the flames and sit for a while with outstretched hands to warm them. Then you hear a short sharp huff from the fox outside as if to warn you.
Out of the corner of
your eye you see movement, a long pale creature like a snake or an
olm darts towards you purposefully, and silent as an arrow.
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
The creature snaps
at the Salt Knight as he barely escapes a nasty bite. He brings up
his mace and shield and whips around, a solid hit to the olm's
midsection throwing it back. The two eye each other as the olm
prepares to lunge again, and as the reptile leaps toward Anastaz's
throat, he ducks and slams into it from below. The beast starts
leaking ichor as it begins to die, wheezing and gasping.
After putting the creature out of its misery, Anastaz searches around the cave and finds a small tunnel. He cautiously peers in, carries the corpse to the makeshift mauseoleum, and rolls a large rock in front of it.
 |
| Giant Cave Olm |
Zoltan nods sleepily
and starts preparing breakfast as you wrap yourself into the bedroll.
From outside the white fox peaks in curiously.
***
Morning of the 9th day, a tiny cave in the mountains
Zoltan is serving warm bread with a sweet nutty paste and luke warm tea. From the fire only embers remained. Outside puffy snowflakes are slowly falling. The fox is sitting in the entrance, gnawing on a bone that Pigeon Knight must have thrown her.
Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight
"All quiet then?"
Perilake stretches, and wanders to the cave entrance, peering over
the horizon for any sign of the Rusalki... listening for the song of
a blackbird.
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Perilake sees Milos
returning to the cave after an early morning patrol. The Fox Knight
stops, hesitates a moment, and then gestures for his comrade to join
him on the slope just outside. A chill breeze shifts the snows as the
two knights come together. With his jaw set and his eyes steely, he
says: "If you wanted that elf dead yesterday, you should have
slit his throat yourself. Anastaz is not your executioner."
Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight
"If I acted on
everything I wanted, Milos, I would not be a knight. But if I decided
that warrior had to die, I would have done it myself." He
shakes his head in disappointment. "Anastasz, my
executioner? The insult to my brother you give by even suggesting
such a thing - !" He bites back harsher words, and his voice
continues as hard and cold as polished gold.
"I would not argue
on behalf of a villain such as this, but I did not ask Anastasz for
anything. I merely did not stop him. I would have left the elf to die
a lonely and painful death. In truth, he gave that warrior a greater
mercy than I, in my cruelty, or you, in your silent sanctimony,
would."
He sighs, sadness
softening his voice. "Anastasz has always chosen the hard
path. Though it may be neither easy or pleasant, he believes it to be
the right one. This deserves respect. and I will never sit in
judgement of his bravery." His face betrays a disappointment.
"I thought better of you."
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
"We are all
complicit in the act and share the responsibility, but he looked to
you for counsel in that moment. If you did not believe the elf
merited death, then why did you give your consent? You say that
Anastaz has chosen this path but you all walk it with him, it has
become your habit to rely upon him for these darker deeds." He
kicks at the snow beneath his boot in frustration. "I do not
know what the right course was, but I do know that the Salt Knight's
soul is unduly burdened by this grim role and it breaks my heart to
witness it so plainly." He wipes angrily at his eyes as the
tears well up.
Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight
Perilakes irritation
and disappointment is clear. "You offered no counsel or
complaint, no promise to tend the creature's wounds. Do not speak to
me of my habits, when you are such a fool as to say Anastasz's value
to me, his brother, is only in grim deeds." "You think it
some revelation that we walk this path together?" Perilake's
eyes blaze with indignation. "I know that you do not listen,
for I told you what value I placed on the creature's life, yet you
are still confused. Listen now, and make your peace: speak to
Anastasz if you wish to help him, but do not insult me again with
this ignorant perversion of our brotherhood." Perilakes voice
never raises, never warms but the cold frost thaws into resignation.
"It is only that you care for him, and that you are here at all,
that I excuse you this. For I am grateful to you still for both."
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Milos gets a hold of
his emotions and attempts to speak in a more measured way. "I
never said that his only value to you were his grim deeds. I know you
care for him and have a deep bond. And I do blame myself for not
speaking more directly in the moment. I will endeavor to be braver in
the future." He peers back toward the cave with a pained
expression. "Let us leave this matter for now, so both our
tempers may cool." And he turns to make his way back inside.
Referee
Milos almost bumps into
Zoltan who squeezes through the fissure, sets down pots and pans and
starts cleaning them with snow. “The map seems to indicate that the
chapel is somewhere close by ...” he says to no one in particular, “
... and I sense it lies to the West. But it could be in the next
valley, hidden behind the next peak or further to the west.” ”I
wouldn't want to spend another night in that tiny cave … and we are
out of wood … but we could use this place as our base and search
the area.” He doubtfully looks at a perilous climb up to the
summit. “Or we might get a glimpse of the chapel from up there if
we are lucky. Visibility is worse than yesterday but if the chapel is
on a mountain top we should be able to see it .... or at least a
route to traverse the mountain range. ”The fox has watched the
Pigeon Knight attentively and gives a short bark in agreement - although to which suggestion remains unclear.
Sir Heldris the Dove Knight
"We trust your
nose Sir Zoltan." The Dove Knight looks towards the mountain
path. "I suggest we travel west. If we miss the chapel we
can come back here for shelter or push forward to the Halls of
Desire."
Ser Perilake, The
Gilded Knight
"We are waiting
for Sivka, who I have faith will find us. We should do what we can to
improve our situation in the meantime." He peers up the
perilous climb. "If we head west, and you sense it is now to
our east, then we will know if we have gone too far. I grow tired of
mountains."
Referee
You slowly make your
way down the northern flank of the mountain looking for a path west.
All is silent and the snow is falling slowly and you only hear the
heavy breathing of the other wanderers, each alone with his own
thoughts. Mid-morning you reach a valley between peaks and you rest
in their cold shadow outside of a cave, its mouth covered in icy
spikes. You manage to make a small fire from juniper shrubs while
Zoltan is studying the rock. The smoke smells rich and crisp and you
warm your stiff fingers over the fire. “We can't climb up here and
I see no other way forward.” he finally says frowning. “We need
to ...” From the north, far away and still way too close you hear
the sound of a terrible horn. You freeze, your heart starts racing,
you struggle to draw breath and the hairs in your neck stand up. Then
the moment passes and you can act again.
Sir Heldris the Dove Knight
At the horrifying
sound of the otherworldly horns, Heldris’ blood runs cold. He feels
his limbs frozen, like the cornered prey before the barking hounds.
'I wish Colmán were here,' he whispers in his own mind. And at
the thought of his dear steed, he snaps out of it and says in a
hoarse voice: “No question of coming back to the cave, we need
to push forward. Sir Perilake, we follow your lead now, like the old
times.”
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
A rare look of alarm
flashes across Anastaz's face. His attention drifts back to his
companions, and he nods hurriedly. "The less time wasted,
the better."
Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight
Perilake nods, and
pulls Zoltan up from his crouch by the rock. "I think if we
retrace our steps, and descend down the gully we passed earlier, we
may find a way through."
Referee
You retreat your steps
for a while making haste as much as the terrain allows. Finally
Perilake spots a steep narrow ridge in the rock and starts climbing
and Zoltan follows him, the snout of the fox peaking out of his
bundle. You feel the sharp stones beneath your elfin gloves and soon
despite the coldness you start to sweat. After an hour you reach a
plateau covered in grey moss between even higher peaks and catch your
breath. You realize that the mountain is as alive as everything in
the kingdom and it looks down at you almost gaily and the shadow of
clouds pass by and seem to make it dance. Later you cross a razor
sharp ridge west and when you reach the other side you find a path of
worn out smooth stones in the twilight of the coming night and the
echo of a flickering light from above.
Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight
Perilake smiles at
the others, but checks his scabbard as he leads them up the path.
"We have found the chapel of the Hawk. Let us greet the Hermit
that is said to live here, and find shelter for the night. From what
Alder said, I doubt they are any friend to the Rusalki."
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Milos looks up into
the sky and shields his eyes from the last low rays of the setting
sun. He sees a red tailed hawk high above them, floating effortlessly
on a thermal. The distant lingering call of kee-eee-arr reaches his
ears and he whistles in greeting to the noble bird.
 |
| The Chapel of the Hawk |
The wind combs through
the branches of the small twisted krummholz pines that grow alongside
the path and at its end lies a decrepit structure from wood and stone
under the first stars. A hide is covering the entrance and through
its seams shines the light of a fire. The symbol of a hawk is painted
in red on the pelt. Inside it smells of herbs and smoke and rancid
fat. The hermit sits on the floor before an iron trivet over the
central fireplace. He is wearing a hooded cloak against the cold,
patched and black from smoke. He has turned his head towards you but
his gaze is hollowed out and he stares at a random spot on the
brushwood covered floor. “You don't walk like the demon-kind.” His
voice is thin and brittle with age. He puts away his knife. ”Are
you here to take me back?"
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
The Salt Knight
crouches next to the old man and puts a hand on his back. "Do
you want to go back, grandfather?"
Referee
The old man listens for
a while. His skin is paper thin and dirty except for old streaks
under his milky eyes. “Yes, my son" he finally says, "I
would like that very much.” And he blesses you in the name of the
sky spirits and invites you to sit with him on goat hides and drink
tea from his garden. “I heard a terrible sound in the morning and I
thought they would finally come for me ...” he absent mindedly
feels the ground for his knife. “Do you know the way back?”
Sir Heldris the Dove Knight
"I'm afraid we are
the game of this hunt." The Dove Knight says. "We
know the way back, but we came here to rescue the Gilded Knight's son
from the Halls of Desire, and we won't leave without him." He
accepts the tea offered by the old man. "How did you end up
here? And what is this chapel that you guard?"
Referee
“All my live it seems
I had to flee: The small town that was burned down by order of the
Safiya Kathun, and I fled the bordedom of the library when I was
dreaming of the stars.” He says that his name is Batu and that he
was born in the Northern steppes of Waldochia and studied Astrology
in Mohacz and that when he became a Maister he dreamed of heavens
that couldn't be and promises were made and he accepted. He lived in
Nettle's Brugh for seven years until one night after a wild feast he
fled and reached the mountains. He climbed higher and higher until he
couldn't climb any further and he saw that the cursed ravens of the
Rusalki were looking for him and he prayed to the sky to save him. “I
think the hawk killed all the ravens or drove them away and I
followed the spirit up to this chapel where I found a spring and a
garden and the falconer's glove and with it I could fly” his smile
falters “ ...that is when I still could see more than just grey shapes in the darkness.” Batu tells you that his eyes sight is
getting worse and while he can fetch water and twigs for his fire and
tend to his garden he has to rely on the birds to bring him hares
sometimes or he finds a goat with a broken neck that had fallen off a
rock and he thanks the hawk for his gifts
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Milos comes close to
the hermit and speaks with admiration in his voice. "Noble
Batu, you have outwitted and outmaneuvered the Rusalki for many
years. The Hunt is now riding for us so we are perilous traveling
companions. If we could evade or defeat them, then we could return to
bring you home with us at the completion of our errand in this land.
Can you perchance offer us any guidance on how to thwart the Hunt?"
Referee
“I lived with these
demon for so long, they are not … “ Batu is wringing his hands
failing to describe their nature. “You cannot … defeat
them not when ... .” He shakes his head. ”The ravens croaked and
sang something about the hunt … ” He closes his eyes and frowns: "Wherever it runs the prey will be found. - And I believed them and if
not for the hawk they would have found me. I hide like a mouse before
the cat and can't offer you advice. If you wish so I will ask the
spirit for guidance.” He reaches out for you and pulls himself up.
“But I will show you the gift of the hawk.” He steadies himself
against you and with your help walks shakily over to a small altar
with a feathered headdress and a falconers glove, brittle, cracked,
and darkened by centuries of sweat and oil. There is faded gold
embroidery of feathers along the cuff, now mostly unravelled. It
smells of old leather and pine needles. “I found this when I
arrived at the chapel and I tried to fly away, to flee from this
place but … however I tried - the glamour the Rusalki have woven
around the Thrice-Ninth Kingdom prevented me from leaving.” He
caresses the leather with trembling hands. “I cannot fly any more
but anyone wearing the glove can. It shall be yours.”
Sir Heldris the Dove Knight
“Your generosity is
like warm sunlight in this cold heartless land,” The Dove Knight
bows his head to old Batu, “and if you have the means to ask
the spirit for guidance, please do so.” He follows the old man
over to the altar, where he feels the texture of the falconer's glove
and studies the feathers on the headdress. “A handful of hawk’s
feathers,” he says, as if talking by himself, “hide within
the dove wings of my armour.” He raises his head from the
streaked feathers on the altar. “Perhaps the gift of the hawk
will save us all from these devilish hunters.” He turns to Batu,
“You managed to escape them, but not to escape this realm.
We’ll do our best to grant you this wish, I promise.”
Referee
Batu puts his bony,
calloused hands over yours as if to bless you. “Be careful” he
says, while holding your hand, eager for a human touch. ”The
freedom of flight can be very seductive. Never forget who you are.”
Later at the fire he refuses to eat from the elfin provisions and
only drinks his tea and listens to your voices and soon he falls
asleep with the small white fox in his lap and a smile on his
face, leaning against a pillar carved with the symbols of the hawk and
Zoltan puts a blanket over his shoulders and lightly kisses his
forehead like a mother would.
A dream
This night they all dream of home.
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