Post by Yan on May 7, 2014 3:45:18 GMT
An entry dated sometime in March of 1221.
So, Atticus comes to my manor house today. I can’t say that I really like the guy, but he’s a good tenant. Says he’s rebuilding what he calls a covenant, and that some new magi have joined. To be honest I hadn’t really noticed, since I’ve been too busy going into debt and ruining businesses, and then selling off my holdings to pay my debts. Apparently Atticus knows some of this, because he suggests it would be helpful that I go on an expedition to Guernsey with a couple of these new magi that have turned up. Now one wizard is bad enough, but two. If only I had a clue as to how bad it was going to be…
Dated sometime in April of 1221.
So, Atticus comes to my manor house today. I can’t say that I really like the guy, but he’s a good tenant. Says he’s rebuilding what he calls a covenant, and that some new magi have joined. To be honest I hadn’t really noticed, since I’ve been too busy going into debt and ruining businesses, and then selling off my holdings to pay my debts. Apparently Atticus knows some of this, because he suggests it would be helpful that I go on an expedition to Guernsey with a couple of these new magi that have turned up. Now one wizard is bad enough, but two. If only I had a clue as to how bad it was going to be…
Dated sometime in April of 1221.
This expedition was as bad as I thought it would be. Couple two wizards who like to think their experts in wizards, one of whom has this penchant for talking to people when he doesn’t get that he rubs them the wrong way, and the other with a 10 year old assistant who orders him around. Wizards, never get in business with them. I’m convinced that they ruined by business deals, thinking back on it, they all turned sour when they arrived.
We took a ship to Guernsey, because let’s face it, it’s a long walk, and I simply don’t walk that far. I did pack sword and armor, despite them having hired swords. I don’t entirely trust hired swords, and it turns out that distrust was well founded. I may get to that later. The wizards didn’t seem to care once it was resolved. Apparently they, the wizards, not the hired swords, were both experts in what they call the Art of Auram. That’s what they call weather wizards in what’s called the Order of Hermes. I’ve heard tell that some Auram experts can throw lightning from their hands like Zeus of myth, but I never saw any of that from these wizards. One is annoying and gregarious and the other is annoying with a boy companion who has a puppy, which actually becomes important a bit later. The puppy, not the wizards.
On the first day there, a few men and I head deeper into the island and begin visiting with the locals. We don’t visit with them, I do. Since I speak the language passably, and no one else does. I had a feeling that’s why Atticus picked me, but that’s beside the point. So we visit a village, who point us in the direction of town. I seem to be getting a vibe from the mercs, that they are interested in this village for some reason. I issue a few threats and consider that sufficient, but it turns out later it wasn’t. I had little coin to actually bribe them, and these weren’t my retainers so I guess my threats rang hollow.
They point us in the direction of the town, and we head off. I take some of the silver the the wizards had given me and use it to buy us food, lodging, and most importantly, libation. I find a cute serving wench and proceed to do my thing. Well, that comes later, but first I find out about the local legends and haunts. There’s some hill nearby, the people do an annual ritual or something to keep the ghosts away or something. Bingo. My work is done. Now I do my thing. But apparently while I was doing my thing, some of the mercs were doing their thing, and they raid the village’s treasure cache. But I don’t find that out until later, because I’m too busy doing my thing.
Speaking of my thing. I’m touched by the Fae, I don’t know much about it. My family’s records are rather silent on the subject. Color me surprised, you’d think that any woman would share her dalliance in a bacchanal with Bacchus or his satyrs. But no. In case you haven’t guessed it. I’ve got some small horns that I can cover up with wavy thick hair. I also have some odd feet, but I don’t take my boots off in front of people, so it’s usually not a problem. So, you can guess why I like doing my thing. I come by it honest, so to speak.
Where was I. Oh yeah, we found out about the place, and we go back and tell the wizards, but after we’ve slept. Turns out the wizards are not totally useless, and they basically found the site for themselves. Of course, they weren’t certain until I added my piece about local legends. I, of course, was always certain this is the place they want. I’m that good. So we head to the site. Along the way, the hunter who is blazing the path seems to be taking us away from the village, or more pointedly around the village. I start getting a clue that he’s up to no good, and based on what happened the day before, I confer with the wizards. None of them throw lightning bolts, so either they are cautious, which is unlikely, smart, even less likely, or they can’t do it, most likely and leave the matter in my capable hands. Great. Long story short, hunter dies, villages treasure cache returned, and I’m cursed by the people. Story of my life.
After that interesting diversion we head to the site the wizards and I had discussed. This is where my faerie heritage pays off, because these wizards have no idea which end is up. Some birds that are a good omen show up, one of the wizards follows them. That one calls himself Windsong or something by the way, if it helps make the story clearer. Windsong and Nimrod, and Nimrod’s assistant argue about stuff to do before that. I get tired of the whole thing and just go into the faerie mound, because of these eyes that draw me in.
Inside the mound, I manage to locate a broken boar spear, and I have a hunch it’s related to the eyes, which later out is confirmed. I come back out and it’s nearing sundown and apparently Nimrod realized I had disappeared and tried to find me. But he didn’t have faerie eyes, like me, or spells to make the passage visible. I show him the spear and tell him it’s important.
A little while later that Windsong guy comes back, and he and Nimrod prattle on about some faerie in the forest. The remaining mercs are busy making dinner, but apparently the wizards are getting a bit nervous about sticking around. So they order us to pack up and find a different spot. Of course, that different spot is no better than the spot we were at, and we later have to come back, but what do I know? I’m not a wizard. That’s why they get the big bucks.
They find a clearing, and I can tell that they identify that it’s got some sort of faerie glamour associated with it. They decide to stay there, nonetheless. Idiots. So, remember when I said I’d found a boar hunting spear? Yeah, you probably figured it out. I wasn’t certain it was going to happen, but then it did.
The boar does show up, and he’s as big as an ox. We manage to get into defensible positions, and I’m holding the boar spear, which now has a full shaft, thanks to the wizards. At lesat they did one thing right. But, I’m in the wrong position and one of the mercs gets trampled. Some of the men land decent blows on the boar, too. The one who was trampled, he doesn’t look to good. The boar seems none the worse for wear, despite what we threw at it. And then Nimrod’s assistant loses control of the puppy. And he goes after the puppy. You see it, don’t you?
I’m no hero, I’d rather run from a fight, especially when I’m not sure of the odds. But this poor kid was about to be run over by a faerie boar as big as an ox. I couldn’t really let that happen. So I quickly reposition myself betwixt the boar and the boy, get set. What happens next is a matter of luck, both good and bad, or as I like to call it poor planning on the part of the wizard. First, good, I land a really solid blow with the spear and bury it pretty deep in the boar. Then the shaft of the staff breaks. Next time they make a shaft for this, they better make it unbreakable. Yeah, apparently there’s going to be a next time. I think I’ll ask for double if I go along on that one.
The boar runs off. With the spear buried in it. Now, the wizards and I get into a little bit of a row. They want to stick to the campsite, but we’re already a man down, and that boar is at its weakest now, and will probably heal himself. I know this, since I know a bit of the ways of Faerie. They want to stick around, and I tell them, in so many words, sod that, and I’m off, back to the fair mound to finish the job. I also take the mercs with me, so the wizards really have little choice but to follow.
Long story short, yeah, I know, too late. Anwyay, long story short, we manage to kill the boar, and they find the mystical power they were hunting for, and this is where I learn they intend to come back every year. I think I’ll ask for triple, instead. We sail back to Paris, up the Seine, and I retire to my manor house, resting my bruised ribs, and the wizards go back and do whatever it is they do on the mont.
We took a ship to Guernsey, because let’s face it, it’s a long walk, and I simply don’t walk that far. I did pack sword and armor, despite them having hired swords. I don’t entirely trust hired swords, and it turns out that distrust was well founded. I may get to that later. The wizards didn’t seem to care once it was resolved. Apparently they, the wizards, not the hired swords, were both experts in what they call the Art of Auram. That’s what they call weather wizards in what’s called the Order of Hermes. I’ve heard tell that some Auram experts can throw lightning from their hands like Zeus of myth, but I never saw any of that from these wizards. One is annoying and gregarious and the other is annoying with a boy companion who has a puppy, which actually becomes important a bit later. The puppy, not the wizards.
On the first day there, a few men and I head deeper into the island and begin visiting with the locals. We don’t visit with them, I do. Since I speak the language passably, and no one else does. I had a feeling that’s why Atticus picked me, but that’s beside the point. So we visit a village, who point us in the direction of town. I seem to be getting a vibe from the mercs, that they are interested in this village for some reason. I issue a few threats and consider that sufficient, but it turns out later it wasn’t. I had little coin to actually bribe them, and these weren’t my retainers so I guess my threats rang hollow.
They point us in the direction of the town, and we head off. I take some of the silver the the wizards had given me and use it to buy us food, lodging, and most importantly, libation. I find a cute serving wench and proceed to do my thing. Well, that comes later, but first I find out about the local legends and haunts. There’s some hill nearby, the people do an annual ritual or something to keep the ghosts away or something. Bingo. My work is done. Now I do my thing. But apparently while I was doing my thing, some of the mercs were doing their thing, and they raid the village’s treasure cache. But I don’t find that out until later, because I’m too busy doing my thing.
Speaking of my thing. I’m touched by the Fae, I don’t know much about it. My family’s records are rather silent on the subject. Color me surprised, you’d think that any woman would share her dalliance in a bacchanal with Bacchus or his satyrs. But no. In case you haven’t guessed it. I’ve got some small horns that I can cover up with wavy thick hair. I also have some odd feet, but I don’t take my boots off in front of people, so it’s usually not a problem. So, you can guess why I like doing my thing. I come by it honest, so to speak.
Where was I. Oh yeah, we found out about the place, and we go back and tell the wizards, but after we’ve slept. Turns out the wizards are not totally useless, and they basically found the site for themselves. Of course, they weren’t certain until I added my piece about local legends. I, of course, was always certain this is the place they want. I’m that good. So we head to the site. Along the way, the hunter who is blazing the path seems to be taking us away from the village, or more pointedly around the village. I start getting a clue that he’s up to no good, and based on what happened the day before, I confer with the wizards. None of them throw lightning bolts, so either they are cautious, which is unlikely, smart, even less likely, or they can’t do it, most likely and leave the matter in my capable hands. Great. Long story short, hunter dies, villages treasure cache returned, and I’m cursed by the people. Story of my life.
After that interesting diversion we head to the site the wizards and I had discussed. This is where my faerie heritage pays off, because these wizards have no idea which end is up. Some birds that are a good omen show up, one of the wizards follows them. That one calls himself Windsong or something by the way, if it helps make the story clearer. Windsong and Nimrod, and Nimrod’s assistant argue about stuff to do before that. I get tired of the whole thing and just go into the faerie mound, because of these eyes that draw me in.
Inside the mound, I manage to locate a broken boar spear, and I have a hunch it’s related to the eyes, which later out is confirmed. I come back out and it’s nearing sundown and apparently Nimrod realized I had disappeared and tried to find me. But he didn’t have faerie eyes, like me, or spells to make the passage visible. I show him the spear and tell him it’s important.
A little while later that Windsong guy comes back, and he and Nimrod prattle on about some faerie in the forest. The remaining mercs are busy making dinner, but apparently the wizards are getting a bit nervous about sticking around. So they order us to pack up and find a different spot. Of course, that different spot is no better than the spot we were at, and we later have to come back, but what do I know? I’m not a wizard. That’s why they get the big bucks.
They find a clearing, and I can tell that they identify that it’s got some sort of faerie glamour associated with it. They decide to stay there, nonetheless. Idiots. So, remember when I said I’d found a boar hunting spear? Yeah, you probably figured it out. I wasn’t certain it was going to happen, but then it did.
The boar does show up, and he’s as big as an ox. We manage to get into defensible positions, and I’m holding the boar spear, which now has a full shaft, thanks to the wizards. At lesat they did one thing right. But, I’m in the wrong position and one of the mercs gets trampled. Some of the men land decent blows on the boar, too. The one who was trampled, he doesn’t look to good. The boar seems none the worse for wear, despite what we threw at it. And then Nimrod’s assistant loses control of the puppy. And he goes after the puppy. You see it, don’t you?
I’m no hero, I’d rather run from a fight, especially when I’m not sure of the odds. But this poor kid was about to be run over by a faerie boar as big as an ox. I couldn’t really let that happen. So I quickly reposition myself betwixt the boar and the boy, get set. What happens next is a matter of luck, both good and bad, or as I like to call it poor planning on the part of the wizard. First, good, I land a really solid blow with the spear and bury it pretty deep in the boar. Then the shaft of the staff breaks. Next time they make a shaft for this, they better make it unbreakable. Yeah, apparently there’s going to be a next time. I think I’ll ask for double if I go along on that one.
The boar runs off. With the spear buried in it. Now, the wizards and I get into a little bit of a row. They want to stick to the campsite, but we’re already a man down, and that boar is at its weakest now, and will probably heal himself. I know this, since I know a bit of the ways of Faerie. They want to stick around, and I tell them, in so many words, sod that, and I’m off, back to the fair mound to finish the job. I also take the mercs with me, so the wizards really have little choice but to follow.
Long story short, yeah, I know, too late. Anwyay, long story short, we manage to kill the boar, and they find the mystical power they were hunting for, and this is where I learn they intend to come back every year. I think I’ll ask for triple, instead. We sail back to Paris, up the Seine, and I retire to my manor house, resting my bruised ribs, and the wizards go back and do whatever it is they do on the mont.