"A story you want?" She seems irritated- usually it is her who asks the questions.
"What story?"
TÃr Na NÓg
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*Midnight
- Posts: 870
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Emila gazes back at the giant and shakes her head.
"I am not here for your bones today. I will wait for death will have its due of us all in the end. Until then you will get your tale.
Far from here on a plane called Oerth there is a place called Blackmoor. It is a cold desolate place filled with icy rocks dark forests and fell beasts. The people who scratch out a living there huddle together in towns. Huddled around the fires and hearths of their inns and hovels scared of the things that haunted the night. Each small town was ruled by a noble family but these so called nobles were little better than brigands themselves having to scrape an existence and hunt for food.
The daughter of one of these families loved the woods and the snow, she loved to track animals and hunt with her bow and bring her kills home. A desolate empty life to some held a simple joy to her, but sadly it was not to last. She was to be married to the Duke of a town near by, a man many times her age and hardly the kind of match young girls dream of. She tried to escape, tried to run away but each time she was hunted down and brought back and in the end the time came and she was sent north for her wedding.
On the way there her and her escort stopped at an inn. As they sat down to eat they found the only other guest there was a priest. A follower of a deity from that prime called Nurell. Nurrel was called the reaper by the people of blackmoor. The god of death, people would sacrafice livestock and rumor has it even other people to him in the hope he would spare them during the harsh winters. His priests were rightly feared, but our young lady she was bold and headstrong. This was her land she thought and she would fear nothing and no one in it. To prove this point she sat and dined with him for all to see.
Now the priest he was tall darkly handsome and dangerous. He was the kind of thing that young girls dream about. So that night as the inn slept she went to his room and in the morning they went their seperate ways.
She arrived at the home of her betrothed and they where wed. That evening they retired for their wedding night as newly weds do, but as they arrived at the room they found some one was there before them. The tall dark stranger from the road. What actually transpired in that room that night I shall leave toyour immagination, but it was four days until the young lady now the new Duchess was seen again and ever after she was only seen by night. The young girl was changed though into a woman and it was clear that it was her and not her weak aging husband held power. As she grew older the town prospered and grew and by the meagre standards of Blackmoor it was a wealthy powerful place. Wealth and power came with q price though and luxury and decadence took their toll on our Duchess. Soon only the most debased vile acts could stir any feeling in her. It was not long before tales of The Bloody Duchess of Blackmoor were used to scare children as far south as Greyhawk. Unable to tolerate such acts the church of Pelor swooped upon the place in a violent crusade. The peasents pressed into defence were no match for the knights of the sun god and our heroine was burned at the stake and the town she built raised around her. Neither to be heard of again."
Emila looks back at the giant her tone neutral and composed throughout the story.
"I hope this suffices. Your turn."
"I am not here for your bones today. I will wait for death will have its due of us all in the end. Until then you will get your tale.
Far from here on a plane called Oerth there is a place called Blackmoor. It is a cold desolate place filled with icy rocks dark forests and fell beasts. The people who scratch out a living there huddle together in towns. Huddled around the fires and hearths of their inns and hovels scared of the things that haunted the night. Each small town was ruled by a noble family but these so called nobles were little better than brigands themselves having to scrape an existence and hunt for food.
The daughter of one of these families loved the woods and the snow, she loved to track animals and hunt with her bow and bring her kills home. A desolate empty life to some held a simple joy to her, but sadly it was not to last. She was to be married to the Duke of a town near by, a man many times her age and hardly the kind of match young girls dream of. She tried to escape, tried to run away but each time she was hunted down and brought back and in the end the time came and she was sent north for her wedding.
On the way there her and her escort stopped at an inn. As they sat down to eat they found the only other guest there was a priest. A follower of a deity from that prime called Nurell. Nurrel was called the reaper by the people of blackmoor. The god of death, people would sacrafice livestock and rumor has it even other people to him in the hope he would spare them during the harsh winters. His priests were rightly feared, but our young lady she was bold and headstrong. This was her land she thought and she would fear nothing and no one in it. To prove this point she sat and dined with him for all to see.
Now the priest he was tall darkly handsome and dangerous. He was the kind of thing that young girls dream about. So that night as the inn slept she went to his room and in the morning they went their seperate ways.
She arrived at the home of her betrothed and they where wed. That evening they retired for their wedding night as newly weds do, but as they arrived at the room they found some one was there before them. The tall dark stranger from the road. What actually transpired in that room that night I shall leave toyour immagination, but it was four days until the young lady now the new Duchess was seen again and ever after she was only seen by night. The young girl was changed though into a woman and it was clear that it was her and not her weak aging husband held power. As she grew older the town prospered and grew and by the meagre standards of Blackmoor it was a wealthy powerful place. Wealth and power came with q price though and luxury and decadence took their toll on our Duchess. Soon only the most debased vile acts could stir any feeling in her. It was not long before tales of The Bloody Duchess of Blackmoor were used to scare children as far south as Greyhawk. Unable to tolerate such acts the church of Pelor swooped upon the place in a violent crusade. The peasents pressed into defence were no match for the knights of the sun god and our heroine was burned at the stake and the town she built raised around her. Neither to be heard of again."
Emila looks back at the giant her tone neutral and composed throughout the story.
"I hope this suffices. Your turn."
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Xar listen to the story, her eyes resting on the Dustie for a moment but she stays silent, thinking.
"There was a woman. Selfish and and evil.... selling herself and her soul to gain riches and influence. She thought herself smart.. so very, very smart, manipulating the people around her, even her husband was just a pawn for her.... to be sacrificed on the altar of her ambition.
She was not as smart as she thought and she realized too late that she was played as well.. and was a pawn to be sacrificed.
Her husband was shattered in mind and heart... ended his life a day after hers ended in the block."
She ends with a shrug, eyes the giant, her price paid.
"There was a woman. Selfish and and evil.... selling herself and her soul to gain riches and influence. She thought herself smart.. so very, very smart, manipulating the people around her, even her husband was just a pawn for her.... to be sacrificed on the altar of her ambition.
She was not as smart as she thought and she realized too late that she was played as well.. and was a pawn to be sacrificed.
Her husband was shattered in mind and heart... ended his life a day after hers ended in the block."
She ends with a shrug, eyes the giant, her price paid.
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*Krayt
- Posts: 544
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The little creature looked weigthed by sorrow his colourful wings drooped over his back. He had played his harp to match the motions of their tales while they told them. "Tales that were fitting"
"Fitting the the tales." The Firbolg bellowed in agreement.
Aleflea spoke again. "My name is Aleflea. My lips shall be the next asigned to storytelling. Began in Duma na Beag it did. The wee mound in the realm of the Dagda that is where Aleflea began. Life was fair for there everyone was a wee like me. Our champions contested in might by hurling pebbles and played hurdles with a acorn. Me and my brother we was as a shadow and that which cast it, two ends on the same stick, back and belly, head and feet, base and top. Unseparable that is for one defines the other. When clearing a field or digging a mound we would switch tools with a sure cast finishing exactly at the same time.
We lived happily so until our rite of manhood was due. We began our apprenticeship to the chief poet for that is what we wished to be poets. Roving the land for a lords guerdon. Well we did for as when I shoveled and my brother billed and tiredness came over us exacly the same time when we finished and made the switch strenght was on us again, so did insperation and like thus was our poets art. For when I lauded my brother satirized and when my brother sang plaintive I sang joyful. In such a way our audience was never lacking, crying and rejoyced filled with pride while abashed. Our renown became vast for our skill reaching all the way to the other end of the great hill and every moundlord sought us to entertain their assemblings.
We returned home to our own. The boys on the hurdle field stood in salute and shouted cheers in two rows one on either side of us when we passed it. Night and day! day and night! For those was our names Night-and-day and Day-and-night and we switched them too each night at sundown and each day at sunrise.
The champions banged their pebbles together as we passed their hill of feat exploits and we waved triumphant I with my right and my brother with his left. The sun was setting but strange was it that on the other side of the horizon it was rising. Until a ring surrounded the entire horizon on every side. It was nor day nor night. A omen of great evils we knew.
Entering the mound we saw the most beauteous sight we ever had seen and ever will. Milky white pearlescent her skin shone as a sun. As pulverised ruby her cheeks glimmered as the setting sun. Her hair dark as the black veil of night. Burned amandine ruddy her lips as the rising sun.
The daugther of the chief poet. She had been in fosterage on the other sie of the great hill and thus we had never seen her until this nor night nor day. It was when the shadow stopped following the object that cast it. When a head didn't have feet and top broke away from fundation. When best of friends became worst of enemes. So it happens when night turn to day and day to night.
At the same time we asked to be allowed to woo her and we was granted our request. By a poets contest. We started to satirize each other and fury seized us. It was a Geis to us doing what the other did at the same time and great evils will follow when one break his Geis. Attacking what was dearest to the other but alas it was the same! We blemished the poor maiden with our satire magic. Blindened by hatred we only wished the other harm thinking on nothing else.
blight be skin as night
fright to her give sight
plight and no delight
trite takes yon sprite
lite not this sleight
recite poet of might
right to thee smite
light of life benight
Her fair form was turned into a horrid shape and she could not bear the blemishes we placed on her in our satirists frenzy. She leaped into the flames under the vast cauldron centered in the mound and it was her end. Til this day it always burns and bears her name, it turns the mound as bright as day on night and at day it dims it with blackness of smoke so that day become as night.
The chief poet was in wrath and turned his powerful poetry on us.
A outlaw without home. A poet without potence. A life without joy. A rats nest for a home. A hunger that is never filled a thirst that never ceases.
Even if he had not cursed us we had been doomed anyway because of breaking the Geis. My name is Aleflea."
He looked to Caillfhessa expectantly waiting for him to recite his tale while he strummed the golden harp with glossy eyes.
((Caillfhessa's tale comming soon. Sorry for the hold up.))
"Fitting the the tales." The Firbolg bellowed in agreement.
Aleflea spoke again. "My name is Aleflea. My lips shall be the next asigned to storytelling. Began in Duma na Beag it did. The wee mound in the realm of the Dagda that is where Aleflea began. Life was fair for there everyone was a wee like me. Our champions contested in might by hurling pebbles and played hurdles with a acorn. Me and my brother we was as a shadow and that which cast it, two ends on the same stick, back and belly, head and feet, base and top. Unseparable that is for one defines the other. When clearing a field or digging a mound we would switch tools with a sure cast finishing exactly at the same time.
We lived happily so until our rite of manhood was due. We began our apprenticeship to the chief poet for that is what we wished to be poets. Roving the land for a lords guerdon. Well we did for as when I shoveled and my brother billed and tiredness came over us exacly the same time when we finished and made the switch strenght was on us again, so did insperation and like thus was our poets art. For when I lauded my brother satirized and when my brother sang plaintive I sang joyful. In such a way our audience was never lacking, crying and rejoyced filled with pride while abashed. Our renown became vast for our skill reaching all the way to the other end of the great hill and every moundlord sought us to entertain their assemblings.
We returned home to our own. The boys on the hurdle field stood in salute and shouted cheers in two rows one on either side of us when we passed it. Night and day! day and night! For those was our names Night-and-day and Day-and-night and we switched them too each night at sundown and each day at sunrise.
The champions banged their pebbles together as we passed their hill of feat exploits and we waved triumphant I with my right and my brother with his left. The sun was setting but strange was it that on the other side of the horizon it was rising. Until a ring surrounded the entire horizon on every side. It was nor day nor night. A omen of great evils we knew.
Entering the mound we saw the most beauteous sight we ever had seen and ever will. Milky white pearlescent her skin shone as a sun. As pulverised ruby her cheeks glimmered as the setting sun. Her hair dark as the black veil of night. Burned amandine ruddy her lips as the rising sun.
The daugther of the chief poet. She had been in fosterage on the other sie of the great hill and thus we had never seen her until this nor night nor day. It was when the shadow stopped following the object that cast it. When a head didn't have feet and top broke away from fundation. When best of friends became worst of enemes. So it happens when night turn to day and day to night.
At the same time we asked to be allowed to woo her and we was granted our request. By a poets contest. We started to satirize each other and fury seized us. It was a Geis to us doing what the other did at the same time and great evils will follow when one break his Geis. Attacking what was dearest to the other but alas it was the same! We blemished the poor maiden with our satire magic. Blindened by hatred we only wished the other harm thinking on nothing else.
blight be skin as night
fright to her give sight
plight and no delight
trite takes yon sprite
lite not this sleight
recite poet of might
right to thee smite
light of life benight
Her fair form was turned into a horrid shape and she could not bear the blemishes we placed on her in our satirists frenzy. She leaped into the flames under the vast cauldron centered in the mound and it was her end. Til this day it always burns and bears her name, it turns the mound as bright as day on night and at day it dims it with blackness of smoke so that day become as night.
The chief poet was in wrath and turned his powerful poetry on us.
A outlaw without home. A poet without potence. A life without joy. A rats nest for a home. A hunger that is never filled a thirst that never ceases.
Even if he had not cursed us we had been doomed anyway because of breaking the Geis. My name is Aleflea."
He looked to Caillfhessa expectantly waiting for him to recite his tale while he strummed the golden harp with glossy eyes.
((Caillfhessa's tale comming soon. Sorry for the hold up.))
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*Krayt
- Posts: 544
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The hulking giant brought his massive sword down with it's point to the ground sinking two fists down before it was halted. Grappeling his thick red beard in a firm hand he stroke it from his jaw down so it bacame forked. Perhaps his idea of being presentable. The words fell as rolling boulders laden with bitterness.
" I was a champion of the Firbolg. After the great defeat long ago to the Tuatha Dé Danann the Firbolg was forced to flee into the unhospital barrens, the deep fens and remote isles. My name was Rofhessa the greatly skilled for my knowledge was great. When I saw a feat performed it was a Geis to me not to learn it. When I herad a tale, verdict or wisdom it was likewise a Geis for me not to memorize it. So it was that I became the champion."
"On the island you mentioned without utter a name yes it was I that claimed it for the Firbolg. Crodae the red warrioress had taken us into bondage and we was forced to drag rich soil to a meager field with our ancestral bags. By the gods to which my people prays I knew that was not the first time that fate had befell us for I remembered what others forgot. It so happend that a great deluge fell over our provice and nearly washed away the field we had been gathering beeing sent to retreive it we went to the shore. Overwhelming our guards the waves took them to their graves. Get into your bags I yelled for my kinsmen and we tied our bags together when the tide took and we escaped. On the Shore we saw the assembely of Crodae. And it was a great pleasure to taunt her as we was born away by the waves as rain and hail pattered them. We are the men, the Fir of the bags, the Bolg remember it for what is floating in the bags will be your destruction! The crow shall be hungry this eve! We leave as we came and we will come as we left! I yelled in triumph."
"Thus it was that we came to the nameless isle. It would be a brief respite for when the storm abated the warrior woman would follow us the put us all to the sword for she never forgave a sleight or harm worked on her. We scoured the newly found land claiming rescources and mapping the terrain to for our oncoming stand against Crodae and her forces. What was found in the center was a deep dale and in it a small still silvern lough. No wave stirred albeit the storm ravged the surrounding trees tearing bough from bole. Flat as were it hammer out of a silver plate it laid in level or below the sea. I drew it nearer and gazed into the eerie surface int the whiteness was a darkness as if made of mercury frozen soild. I saw shadows as when waves rise and devour moonlight. Diving into it it spirited me away. I found myself swimming through dimly lit water green pillars of fair light rose from below and a wood of gigantic seaweed spread over the expanse. I used my breath feat to survive and my hornskin feat to make my body heavy and hard. Sinking until I stood on a gargantuan causeway of rock. I followed it for many miles until I reached a great risen dark scaur the resemblance of a palace was carved into it's lower part with a huge door at the causways's end. It took all of my strenght to open it but I managed and entered the dark domain. Bulbs larger than my head float as shining pearls and many pillars of speckled gems rose up and beyond sight. Lost within this strange pillar hall I roamed until I found a chamber shining as gold. Within it a score of maidens. Unearthly beautiful was they with hues of green and blue. Stunned I could not muster a word from my lips but they spoke to me asking why I had come and I told them my reason. It was then I learned where I was, this was the realm of Mananann son of Lir. He of the Tuatha De Danann that had renounced the lordship and formed his own realm TÃr Fo Thuinn. They asked to contend for my husbandship and I agreed with the vow that she how won would return with me if she could provide me with a dowery that could secure victory over Crodae."
The giant paused and ran a finger along the fuller of the strangly forged blade. Then he looked to the group as if to give them a chance to ask questions would there be any before he continued.
" I was a champion of the Firbolg. After the great defeat long ago to the Tuatha Dé Danann the Firbolg was forced to flee into the unhospital barrens, the deep fens and remote isles. My name was Rofhessa the greatly skilled for my knowledge was great. When I saw a feat performed it was a Geis to me not to learn it. When I herad a tale, verdict or wisdom it was likewise a Geis for me not to memorize it. So it was that I became the champion."
"On the island you mentioned without utter a name yes it was I that claimed it for the Firbolg. Crodae the red warrioress had taken us into bondage and we was forced to drag rich soil to a meager field with our ancestral bags. By the gods to which my people prays I knew that was not the first time that fate had befell us for I remembered what others forgot. It so happend that a great deluge fell over our provice and nearly washed away the field we had been gathering beeing sent to retreive it we went to the shore. Overwhelming our guards the waves took them to their graves. Get into your bags I yelled for my kinsmen and we tied our bags together when the tide took and we escaped. On the Shore we saw the assembely of Crodae. And it was a great pleasure to taunt her as we was born away by the waves as rain and hail pattered them. We are the men, the Fir of the bags, the Bolg remember it for what is floating in the bags will be your destruction! The crow shall be hungry this eve! We leave as we came and we will come as we left! I yelled in triumph."
"Thus it was that we came to the nameless isle. It would be a brief respite for when the storm abated the warrior woman would follow us the put us all to the sword for she never forgave a sleight or harm worked on her. We scoured the newly found land claiming rescources and mapping the terrain to for our oncoming stand against Crodae and her forces. What was found in the center was a deep dale and in it a small still silvern lough. No wave stirred albeit the storm ravged the surrounding trees tearing bough from bole. Flat as were it hammer out of a silver plate it laid in level or below the sea. I drew it nearer and gazed into the eerie surface int the whiteness was a darkness as if made of mercury frozen soild. I saw shadows as when waves rise and devour moonlight. Diving into it it spirited me away. I found myself swimming through dimly lit water green pillars of fair light rose from below and a wood of gigantic seaweed spread over the expanse. I used my breath feat to survive and my hornskin feat to make my body heavy and hard. Sinking until I stood on a gargantuan causeway of rock. I followed it for many miles until I reached a great risen dark scaur the resemblance of a palace was carved into it's lower part with a huge door at the causways's end. It took all of my strenght to open it but I managed and entered the dark domain. Bulbs larger than my head float as shining pearls and many pillars of speckled gems rose up and beyond sight. Lost within this strange pillar hall I roamed until I found a chamber shining as gold. Within it a score of maidens. Unearthly beautiful was they with hues of green and blue. Stunned I could not muster a word from my lips but they spoke to me asking why I had come and I told them my reason. It was then I learned where I was, this was the realm of Mananann son of Lir. He of the Tuatha De Danann that had renounced the lordship and formed his own realm TÃr Fo Thuinn. They asked to contend for my husbandship and I agreed with the vow that she how won would return with me if she could provide me with a dowery that could secure victory over Crodae."
The giant paused and ran a finger along the fuller of the strangly forged blade. Then he looked to the group as if to give them a chance to ask questions would there be any before he continued.
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
She listened to the tales like someone who is not used to elaborate storytelling and also has no sense to appreciate the art.
Thinking hard she tries to distill the facts from the art- a task quite new to her but the longer she listens the easier it becomes- it is not unlike telling the facts that matter from the pleads for mercy and little lies people utter to end the pain when they are given into her care in the deeper cells, back in the prison.
"So that pond... lake... is a portal? And this vengeful wench... she will come here to find you? Is this why you are hiding?"
Thinking hard she tries to distill the facts from the art- a task quite new to her but the longer she listens the easier it becomes- it is not unlike telling the facts that matter from the pleads for mercy and little lies people utter to end the pain when they are given into her care in the deeper cells, back in the prison.
"So that pond... lake... is a portal? And this vengeful wench... she will come here to find you? Is this why you are hiding?"
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*Krayt
- Posts: 544
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The massive Firblog dipped his head looking at Xar while stroking the right fork of his red beard. "The lake is a portal. If Crodae the red knew where to find me she would come. But this is not why I left TÃr na nÓg and the realm of the MorrÃagan." He swung his large head around facing Emila. "I cannot answer that for I don't know it. I am Caintinne of the wasted knowledge."
"Not so. For I can say who open it" Aleflea chipped in. "Those was the great SÃdhe or Aos SÃ of the MorrÃgu. But answers comes after stories. Tell them the whole story Caillfhessa."
"Not so. For I can say who open it" Aleflea chipped in. "Those was the great SÃdhe or Aos SÃ of the MorrÃgu. But answers comes after stories. Tell them the whole story Caillfhessa."
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*Krayt
- Posts: 544
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
"So it was that they endowed me with gifts. The mighty sword you see here in my hands. When a opposing blade meet it to parry the edge passes it as was it water meeting steel but would I parry a blow of another it would cast the opposing blade away as if hit by a storm and no armour can withstand it for if moist can pass or reach so can the harming edge. Caillsruthach is the name that clung to it Streamer of Destruction. Each new years eve it recites those who fell to it and that is a long eulogy. You play evils on me! I said for deciet lay in the blade and it is a Geis to my people. Not so she said it is no deciet for water what is decietful to metal. Another maiden gave me a armour but it was nor metal nor cloth a bowl of water and it enveloped me as a dew envelop the lawns a misty morrow. Without hinderance I could move run and leap and perform the heros feat but would a wounding weapon chance to land on it that part would become as hard ice and like an angry sea throw it away from me. You play evils on me! I said for to my people it is a Geis to wear armour. Her answer was the same as the first maiden. The third gave me a swirling globe of was seemed to be a storm caught in a glass ball. What is it? Asked I. That is a portion of Feth Ceó the obscuring mist. That is no Geis to us methinks that your husband I shall be but under the rules of fairness they shall all be trialled. Do we have your promise to return so that we may place judgement on the contest and one of us to claim you as hers? asked they. You have it for it is a Geis to my people to break a promise. With that I left whither I came taking their gifts with me."
"I waded out of the lough where my clansmen waited. The storm had abated and there was only stillness without a breeze. Long was the wait said they. Not so, cause we will all be better for it I answerd. Smashing the globe against a rock a thick mist streamed out from it concealing everything for a great expanse surrounding the isle and the sea around it. That will not avail us my kinsmen explained for the assembly of Crodae have alredy made their landing and encamped on the eastern shore. We will give battle to them then said I. For one there be ten of them and for every javelin there be a hundred of them for we have not the materials to craft them or fit them retorted they. You will have javelins by the hundrend in the morrow was my answer. So I left into the fog for my knowledge of the land was great I needed not seeing to remember where to put my feet. The success of our flight had made me arrogant and breaking the code once didn't seem atocious to me. I would play wiles on them. On rocks I played my shape feat and made them such as giantic men near a river between us and their encampment. With shouting taunts I awoke the assembly of Croadae crossing the ford before them as they followed me. Seeing the men of rock they belived it was a ambush and made their cast over the river for the mist was a great confusion to them. I asked the river to grow and it granted my wish so that the ford was washed away with it. A loan kindly given for they will be with you again and a pair you will be tighter than a lovers clasp! I yelled as I gathered the javelins returning with them to my people before the morning was I with them. This bodes well but we have no swords and thus we will fare poorly in combat they complaint. Not so, for sword shall be in your hands before the newly waken sun goes to slumber said I and disapeared into the mist. I went to their camp and they complained you broke the rules of fairness and you will die for it. Not so, for you will have the better of fairness now and unfairness shall me my allotment. Do you know the custom of a strike for a strike? Asked I. We know it said they. Mine shall be the last for all who face me if there is champions among you the deed will be small. Meet me at yon hill for the contest we you have made the arrangement. Thus I went for the hill and awaited them. Pretending to be sleeping when the first man came I had bared my neck. He made a stroke at it for thus was the rules sleeping or nor. The good armour sprung from it's slumber and extorted his blade from his hands as the edge was stopped at my throat. Ill that stroke fell mine is the next! So I cleaved him at the waist making two halves of him. Such became the same fate to a hundred before I returned to my clansmen with the swords before the sun went down to rest. A sword to wield and spears to be cast we shall meet them in battle when the fair orb lights the mist on the morrow. Such was my urgeing to them. Not so, for Croadae is with them. Champion of the MorrÃgan in her own realm. She is the slaughterer of a hundred without a singel scar, the crow that fatigue can't touch, the raven that ardour never leave, the rook that no edge or point can find. As a falcon that ravages a flight of doves, a wolf that slaughters a herd of lamb, a bull that tramples ants. They plaintively sung. Not so, for I shall be the eagle felling the falcon, the boar that rends the wolf open, the bull that checks the bull. Give them battle and I shall give Crodae battle be it my death or not for being in bondage is little better than death."
"So it was that a cast was held by the clan for either to fight or to flee. Battle was favoured for slavery was feared more greatly then death. We broke battle outside their camp, a ringfort made of their ships. The tide of war favoured us and they was pushed back to their fort but we where halted there and after a council with their greatest warriors they surged out and pushed us back to the river. It was at that ford we met Crodae and I. We made a champions encirclement and fell upon each other. None could survive the bite of her lance once it had touched it's foes skin and it always did for it could not miss, because it was a Geis to that weapon. It was another Geis worked into to it that it could not miss either a parry or stroke once it had begun the movement. I swung Caillsruthach and her spear Occorasfuil was moved to parry. My blade passed the haft as was it water, her spear shattered in her hands for it's Geis had been broken. My blade made a deep furrow in Crodae whose right breast and eye was shorn off and the stream took it. With vile curses she collapsed before me and the river took her for pitty siezed me and I couldn't slay a woman under defencelessness."
"We surged forth embolden by the felling of such a great champion. It was a rout for they was leaderless and filled with fear. Each stroke of Caillsruthach was as a arch of a rainbow which lingered where it had travelled the air and cleft foes rejoycing over the carnage it wrought. We felled them all and burned their ships. With the magical mist in place they could not find us again for it was a treacherous sea surrounding the namless isle. A victory for the Firbolg but not for me I had broken the code to obtain it. I made my farewells with the tribe for the code demanded my exil as punishment reasons cannot alter it, actions by whom perform them is judged not why they were wrought."
"I ventured again into TÃr Fo Thuinn, the realm of Manannan mac Lir. The maidens bid me welcome and I related the tale I just told you. They asked to pass judgement on their contest. But of course I could not give an answer one gift hadn't played a greater role over the other. Further questions was asked and I couln't provide an answer. The name of the isle, the fate of Crodae, where I was going? I didn't knew and thus my own Geis was broken I couldn't recite my own tale in full nor could I keep my promise since I was a exil. The name of the great weapon clung to me since that day for I would devote myself to forgetfulness and not gathering of knowledge. So it was that I became Caillfessa and began my years of wander that took me here to this Hostel."
Aleflea spoke again. "Now for the tale of how I became known as Aleflea." With that came a giggle. "Revel at a good tale I do yet a new one is in making here methinks. You want to travel through this portal or do you want to close it so the SÃdhe will leave you alone? None is fond of guests coming with demands, no offence intended."
"I waded out of the lough where my clansmen waited. The storm had abated and there was only stillness without a breeze. Long was the wait said they. Not so, cause we will all be better for it I answerd. Smashing the globe against a rock a thick mist streamed out from it concealing everything for a great expanse surrounding the isle and the sea around it. That will not avail us my kinsmen explained for the assembly of Crodae have alredy made their landing and encamped on the eastern shore. We will give battle to them then said I. For one there be ten of them and for every javelin there be a hundred of them for we have not the materials to craft them or fit them retorted they. You will have javelins by the hundrend in the morrow was my answer. So I left into the fog for my knowledge of the land was great I needed not seeing to remember where to put my feet. The success of our flight had made me arrogant and breaking the code once didn't seem atocious to me. I would play wiles on them. On rocks I played my shape feat and made them such as giantic men near a river between us and their encampment. With shouting taunts I awoke the assembly of Croadae crossing the ford before them as they followed me. Seeing the men of rock they belived it was a ambush and made their cast over the river for the mist was a great confusion to them. I asked the river to grow and it granted my wish so that the ford was washed away with it. A loan kindly given for they will be with you again and a pair you will be tighter than a lovers clasp! I yelled as I gathered the javelins returning with them to my people before the morning was I with them. This bodes well but we have no swords and thus we will fare poorly in combat they complaint. Not so, for sword shall be in your hands before the newly waken sun goes to slumber said I and disapeared into the mist. I went to their camp and they complained you broke the rules of fairness and you will die for it. Not so, for you will have the better of fairness now and unfairness shall me my allotment. Do you know the custom of a strike for a strike? Asked I. We know it said they. Mine shall be the last for all who face me if there is champions among you the deed will be small. Meet me at yon hill for the contest we you have made the arrangement. Thus I went for the hill and awaited them. Pretending to be sleeping when the first man came I had bared my neck. He made a stroke at it for thus was the rules sleeping or nor. The good armour sprung from it's slumber and extorted his blade from his hands as the edge was stopped at my throat. Ill that stroke fell mine is the next! So I cleaved him at the waist making two halves of him. Such became the same fate to a hundred before I returned to my clansmen with the swords before the sun went down to rest. A sword to wield and spears to be cast we shall meet them in battle when the fair orb lights the mist on the morrow. Such was my urgeing to them. Not so, for Croadae is with them. Champion of the MorrÃgan in her own realm. She is the slaughterer of a hundred without a singel scar, the crow that fatigue can't touch, the raven that ardour never leave, the rook that no edge or point can find. As a falcon that ravages a flight of doves, a wolf that slaughters a herd of lamb, a bull that tramples ants. They plaintively sung. Not so, for I shall be the eagle felling the falcon, the boar that rends the wolf open, the bull that checks the bull. Give them battle and I shall give Crodae battle be it my death or not for being in bondage is little better than death."
"So it was that a cast was held by the clan for either to fight or to flee. Battle was favoured for slavery was feared more greatly then death. We broke battle outside their camp, a ringfort made of their ships. The tide of war favoured us and they was pushed back to their fort but we where halted there and after a council with their greatest warriors they surged out and pushed us back to the river. It was at that ford we met Crodae and I. We made a champions encirclement and fell upon each other. None could survive the bite of her lance once it had touched it's foes skin and it always did for it could not miss, because it was a Geis to that weapon. It was another Geis worked into to it that it could not miss either a parry or stroke once it had begun the movement. I swung Caillsruthach and her spear Occorasfuil was moved to parry. My blade passed the haft as was it water, her spear shattered in her hands for it's Geis had been broken. My blade made a deep furrow in Crodae whose right breast and eye was shorn off and the stream took it. With vile curses she collapsed before me and the river took her for pitty siezed me and I couldn't slay a woman under defencelessness."
"We surged forth embolden by the felling of such a great champion. It was a rout for they was leaderless and filled with fear. Each stroke of Caillsruthach was as a arch of a rainbow which lingered where it had travelled the air and cleft foes rejoycing over the carnage it wrought. We felled them all and burned their ships. With the magical mist in place they could not find us again for it was a treacherous sea surrounding the namless isle. A victory for the Firbolg but not for me I had broken the code to obtain it. I made my farewells with the tribe for the code demanded my exil as punishment reasons cannot alter it, actions by whom perform them is judged not why they were wrought."
"I ventured again into TÃr Fo Thuinn, the realm of Manannan mac Lir. The maidens bid me welcome and I related the tale I just told you. They asked to pass judgement on their contest. But of course I could not give an answer one gift hadn't played a greater role over the other. Further questions was asked and I couln't provide an answer. The name of the isle, the fate of Crodae, where I was going? I didn't knew and thus my own Geis was broken I couldn't recite my own tale in full nor could I keep my promise since I was a exil. The name of the great weapon clung to me since that day for I would devote myself to forgetfulness and not gathering of knowledge. So it was that I became Caillfessa and began my years of wander that took me here to this Hostel."
Aleflea spoke again. "Now for the tale of how I became known as Aleflea." With that came a giggle. "Revel at a good tale I do yet a new one is in making here methinks. You want to travel through this portal or do you want to close it so the SÃdhe will leave you alone? None is fond of guests coming with demands, no offence intended."