Twilight of Old Magic - RP

Remove all ads!

"Hold Celt," he raised his large hands, blood ringed his nail beds. "You seek to kill my clansmen, which I care not, but still it makes me uneasy. And you woman, you are strange and it alarms me. But if these "hounds" can find my quarry I would except, and since you ask no favor at the moment, none shall you ask later on." Vidar realized he had excepted them as companions, and he sighed. Vidar's mission was suicide, there was no need of any other death than him and his enemies.

"So be it, but when I find these men, I will go on alone. You, Celt, your quarry is a red bearded Norse, I doubt he is where we're going."

 

Strange? Mora had been called far worse - this rather amused her.
She closed her eyes and fell silent, listening to the conversation, until the moon appeared over the forest, a dusty lump of silver.

With it, came the hound.

Huge, black and stepping softly, it roamed through the shadows, in utter silence. Once it reached the spot the Celt had died on, the beast stopped.
A quiet snarl escaped its throat, low and ominous. It lifted its head and sniffed the air, then leaped forward, going for the forest - a dark shadow against the grass.

Mora watched, holding her breath.

"There, do you see it?" - she whispered to her companions, almost proudly.

 

"Yes, but we'll lose it soon if we don't hurry," Aidan said, already running. Soon he was in the forest, glimpsing the hound's feet sometimes but for the most part following its sound crashing through the undergrowth. The track zigged and zagged, sometimes along a game path, but more often through dense clumps of trees. They went up over a midsized mound and down through a creek. He came up out of it and almost stumbled upon the hound, sniffling around some rocks. It started to go on the chase again, but stopped a few feet later and came back to the rocks again, sniffing even more intently.

"I'll wager you two pails of maiden milk he can't find where they've gone off to," a small and familiar voice said into his ear."

Aidan turned and saw Svark, an acquaintance of his that he sometimes met in his dream world, flitting next to his head. He was about the size of a sparrow, with lace wings sprouting out of his back. This was strange, because when he usually met Svark, Svark was almost as big as he was.

"Svark! What are you doing here? And why are you so small?" Aidan asked as the hound continued sniffing with growing frustration.

"No, no, no, my dear Aidan lad." Svark answered, flying above Aidan's head to get a better view of the hound. "Your question should be what are YOU doing HERE? And you must have come in through a different Gate than usual, to be your own size, and to be sure to have made it this far in with all that iron you've got about yourself. Didn't the Watchers stop you?"

In all his time in his dream world, Aidan had never heard of the Watchers. He was going to ask Svark about them when noise of someone coming came from the path Aidan and the hound had come through. Aidan went to draw his sword, but it was too hot to hold.

 

The Celt was quick on his feet and Mora followed with difficulty, unused to running around blindly in the dark. She stumbled once and fell, stringing a line of rather unlady like curses as she got up again. Luckily, moon favoured their hunt and by keeping her eyes on Aidan far up front, she managed to follow, if barely.

So focused was she not to fall behind, that she saw nothing but the Celt's shadowy figure leading and never noticed when the woodland path shifted slightly, changing to one more beautiful and wild, nor when the gates of Fairyland closed behind her, leaving her in a world similar, yet different then the one she knew.
Mora knew nothing of this secluded realm of Celtic fae neighbours and literally wouldn't know it even if she tripped and fell right into it.

If the Norse was in front of her or behind, she was not sure, but the giant had a mighty stride and must have overtaken her in the chase.

She stopped, catching her breath, for Aidan had stopped as well, ahead. Her hand brushed against the box holding the steel mirror and she frowned, for the wood was warm, almost alive. She turned and looked back, down the path.
The sight puzzled her - she couldn't remember passing that old, gnarled tree with silver leaves, nor that field of white star shaped flowers... Yet, it was dark, she could have simply not seen it, and for some reason, Aidan had stopped in his hunt.

Mora moved that way, cutting across a soft, green meadow.

Then she saw the hound sniffing, and something small, a bird? flying around Aidan's shoulders. She sensed magic, wild, powerful and very, very, different from her own.

Mora quickened her step.

 

Vidar was surprisingly graceful for his girth, as he ran through the underbrush. His shield bounced against his back with each step and his sword and axe slapped his thighs.

Vidar knew nothing of faeries and their realm. He did notice the changing landscape, but nature was always beautiful. He followed the sounds of the cursing woman, and the racing Celt. His strides were long and few, as he overtook the woman, but he was still unsure if he believed in this chase. He crashed through the boughs of an evergreen into a clearing. The Celt and the hound were there, and Vidar was about to ask "Where the hell are they?" when Aidan drew his sword.

Vidar's sword sprung to his hand, and he crouched as he stared into the darkness.

 

Aidan held onto his sword long enough to see that Vidar and Mora where the only ones coming out of the forest, but then it got too hot to hold on to and he laid it on the ground. Then he put his knife and spear down too, before they burned a hole in his scabbards. Oddly, his collar wasn't burning him, but when he looked at it he saw why, for it was gleaming gold now, no longer dull iron. This kind of made sense, for that was the way it always was in his dreams, but he was certainly not dreaming now.

"Svark why is it that..." but Svark was no longer in sight.

"Grrr, wuff." the hound growled as it set off on the trail again with a bound.

 

Mora saw Aidan put his weapons on the ground. The wooden box on her hip was certainly warmer then it should be and she wondered whether to open it or not, with people around.

"Aidan, what are you doing?" - she called out, confused. The Celt now had a necklace of gold, not iron.

The hound leaped forward, reached the end of the clearing in a few bounds, but then jerked back from the trail, with a startled growl. Something must have spooked it.

 

Skirting around the caravan and entering the forest was easily done for a man dressed in black. Following the path of the few who had wandered from the rest was also easy. What Felin could not do was fathom what a follower of the old ways was doing to close to a main road, with most of the remaining magicians and witches retreating away from civilisation.

Nor could he understand why they would open a doorway to Fairy, something that should only be undertaken when all other options ran dry.

Answers lay ahead and as he felt the faint and familiar moment of disorientation he knew he'd find answers relatively fast...or he'd die. In Fairy both were equally likely.

 

Aidan was about to answer Mora, when he heard a branch crack from the way they had come. Someone or something was coming, doing a fairly good job of being quiet about it.
Suddenly, Svark zoomed back in front of his face. He looked a bit frantic.

"Oh, dear Master Aidan, you must help me. This man who is coming will be wanting his thing back. I knowed I shouldn't have taken it that one time, but it was so irresistable. Anyway, if you protect me from him, and not let him kill me, I'll tell you THE SECRET, and serve you for thirteen moons."

"Yes, Svark, I'll do what I can to help you," Aidan said.

"Oh, a thousand thousand thank yous. Your mother will be proud of you, oh no, he's here!" With that Svark disappeared behind Aidan's leg.

Aidan felt a presence watching from the darkness, yet could see nothing.

"Hello out there. Show yourself if you mean us no harm," Aidan called to the forest, stringing his bow and knocking an arrow. At least they didn't burn in his hands, though the iron arrow head was now glowing red hot.

 

Felin had been walking for no more then five minuets when he caught a glimpse of the group. He quickly ducked behind a tree, hoping they hadn't noticed him but the tall man with the golden chain around his neck yelled out a challenge.

What Felin had hoped to do was follow the party for a while to determine which of them had opened the doorway but obviously that was not going to work now...however he did not wish do reveal himself to this large half-fay either. Stalling for time he called out a response.

"I have no quarrel with you changeling, I merely seek whomever opened the door to Fairy. I suppose it matters not now and my curiosity has got me into a regrettably complex situation... much like yourselves if you stumbled accidentally into the world of the Fey. My name is Felin and I recommend I would recommend to you that you drop that arrow before that tip sets the rest of the shaft on fire."

 

The exchange explained a lot to Mora, though she could not see whom the Celt had pointed his bow at. She looked around and, truly, this was not the world she knew. Fey and Fairyland? So it was true, and there were realms in which vile lived and ruled separate from humans, not in mountains, as they did in her home. It didn't surprise her much. There were many tribes of men - why wouldn't the fair folk have tribes of their own?

The mirror box, held at Mora's hip by a broad leather strap across her chest and left shoulder, was *very* hot now.
Mora couldn't afford to abandon the mirror... no more then she could let it burn the box.
Deciding, she knelt in the grass and opened the box, prying the fake bottom loose and emptying the mirror on the grass. It was radiating heat and glowed slightly - too hot to hold. Luckily, despite the scorched wood, the box was still usable.

"Ashen-palm" - Mora spoke softly, smearing the sooth from the box on her hands. The magic held true and the priestess smiled a bit as the black powder crawled over her fingers on its own. There were advantages to this place.

The same spell that allowed her to scry fates by drowning burning embers now protected her skin from the heat of the mirror. Mora lifted it from the grass and watched in mild amusement as Svark floated in air - trying to peak out behind his cover.


The hound had reeled back to the clearing, but hatred had overcome its fear. In a long leap, it dashed forward again, through the underbrush and between the four Watchers hidden behind. The patrol paid no attention to it. Their emerald eyes gazed on the intruders and the hated iron they had. In perfect silence, knowing that no one can see them unless they allow it, the Watchers waited.

 

Aidan looked after the hound as it sprang through the bushes. He thought Felin's advice well to be taken and set the arrow down. Then struck out after the hound. He felt two mosquito bites on his neck as he ran through the thicket, and swatted, hoping to get the nasty buggers.

The hound was out and out sprinting now, going up a small hill. It suddenly plunged into the earth. Aidan came upon a small cave or large burrow hidden by a boulder. It was barely big enough for him, and he didn't relish going into a cave blind with all his weapons back in the clearing, he'd have to go get them afterwards, but the hound was in front of him, so how bad could it be.

Before he lost his resolve he dived into the hole and started crawling. The tunnel turned left, went down, then turned right before it started going up. Soon Aidan crawled out of the earth, and found that he was in the mountains. The stones were jagged and black, like none he'd ever seen before. He heard a howl and splash and saw the hound tearing down a crick in a small valley.

He stopped a moment to catch his breath, really not wanting to catch up with the hound's quarry with absolutely no weapons and no companions. It was then he noticed the blood running down his neck from the mosquito bites, along with a painful throbbing coming from them. Putting his hand to them, he felt and withdrew two miniature arrows from his skin.

"I tried to stop all of them for you," Svark said, appearing from over Aidan's head, and carefully taking a miniature arrow out of his wing feathers, "But Slapjot and Miggymig are some of the best shots in the realm." He looked at the odd set of the moon. "You know what Aidan? I don't think we're in the Forest Lord's Realm anymore."

 

Mora, in general, didn't really believe in running as a meaningful activity.
She didn't have the stamina to match Aidan's sprint, either, as her heavy breathing clearly showed - the man would have outrun Perun's shafts! - so she didn't start after him right away.

Instead, she picked up the Celt's discarded sword from the grass. With the mirror in her other blackened hand, it was all she could carry.
"The last thing one would want to leave behind." - she thought to herself. As decisive as her new companion seemed to be, it was a reckless thing to do, foolish even. As she intended to follow, she might as well bring the blade along and correct the mistake.

A matter of courtesy remained, however, and Howling Dusk, for all their other flaws, believed in courtesy.

"Felin, is it?" - Mora called out to the forest. - "Man or spirit, show yourself, if you be a friend." she glanced at where Aidan and hound had disappeared, then added "Mora they call me. Forgive the lack of proper introductions, but we tracked that hound to this place and it would be a poor hunt to lose the trail now."

She lingered in half step, waiting for a reply from the silent forest.

 

Figuring concealment was now pointless, Felin emerged from behind his tree and started walking after the Celt. He had no intention of running after such a man, as he might need the stamina later, and the man looked as though he could have run for days.

He answered Mora as he started through the undergrowth.

"Yes it's Felin. Can we discuss this while we walk? I dislike the thought of staying still in this place while you carry so much Iron. The Fey will not take kindly to your presence while you wield their bane."

Without waiting for a response he started off through the forest.

"Distance means little here so I do not know how long we will be walking before we catch up with your friend." He paused for a moment, remembering something.
"Norseman I do not know your name, If it is not too rude may I ask for it now?"

 

Vidar was speechless the whole time, he was not accustom to magic and the Fey. He stood still as he watched the flying tiny man, and the other man emerge from the woods. His weapons lay at his feet, scalding hot, his helm had burnt the ridge of his nose. He saw the watched as the Celt ran off, but was unable to follow him. Until the new man, Felin, turned to him he had felt invisible. He still wasn't sure where he was, or if he was actually awake, but the name asked him something.

"I am Vidar Hálfdanarson, son of Hálfdan. This is too strange a meeting for formalities, my weapons burn with unholy fire, and I am lost in a strange land. I am in search of men, men clad in black, we were lead here. Are you one of them?" Vidar looked at the man's dark attire, flexing his hands. Even without weapons he could kill a man easily.

 

"What was that?" Aidan murmured as he jerked himself awake. He must have dozed off while resting, and he suddenly felt unbearably tired. "It sounded like purring. Why am I so tired?"

"Oh, I didn't hear anything," Svark answered nervously, "It's probably just a little kitty. You're probably so tired because you took two poison arrows in your neck. Make a mortal man like you sleep for a good two or three months. I was wondering why you didn't drop like a rock when you got hit, but I'd say that it was your collar at work. Now that it's just a lump of stinking iron, it does nothing but weigh you down."

Suddenly an incredibly loud, screeching howl tore through the night, disconcertingly close to them amongst the jagged boulders. It was fulll of pride and anger. Challenging the predator that had dared to invade it's territory, and a DOG no less.

"Uh, Aidan, maybe we should be on our way the now," Svark whispered.

"Good idea, Svark, just lemme..." and he slumped to the ground.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Svark whimpered as his super fine hearing picked up the nearly silent approach of paws. He could even hear the claws extend, and estimated that they were twice as big as he was.

"Aidan, wake up!" He commanded, pointing a crooked twig at him. Aidan snored away.
"It's no use, I've got to go. But I promised to serve him for thirteen moons. But I didn't specify WHICH moons, or even that they would be consecutive, now did I? No, I didn't, and that's a good thing. I'll wager even The Judge would uphold my reasoning. So, toodle loo, my Prince."

Svark started to flit away, then stopped with a jerk. "The COOKIES! If his mother ever found out that I left him here to be a kitty cat snack, she'd probably NEVER make any more cookies. No, she'd DEFINITELY not make them for me, or if she did, they'd have iron filings in them. So, so, what to do? Hmm... I know, I'll put him in a sphere! Good thinking Svark!"

He pulled out his crooked twig again and waved it at Aidan, drawing beams of mooonlight around him until he was encased in a sphere of light. Svark twisted the twig until the light became darkness. "There, that ought to do. Now let's see how well it worked in this forsaken land." He sent a small bolt of lighting onto the sphere and it bounced off, mostly. A small crack appeared there.

"Uh oh," Svark said, polishing the crack away with his sleeve. "No worries though, what could a kitty do with a sphere anyway?"

A stong smell of musk turned his attention to a boulder not three grasshopper jumps away. On top of it sat a HUGE cat, definitely not a kitty. It was dark as night, with shining eyes. How long it had sat there watching Svark did not know.

"Time to go, good luck Aidan," and with that he disappeared into thin air. Thus it was not by a feckless fey's oath that Aidan had a chance to live, but by the tastiness of his mother's cookies.

 

Mora followed Felin and Vidar through the forest, a bit absentmindedly. A few times she had tried to stray from the path, but her feet would suddenly feel like lead, and she would be back on track. It seemed that there was just one possible route for her in that forest.

"Something really wants us to go through that burrow opening"... - Mora thought to herself, before she slid effortlessly through the hole.

As she landed at the bottom, the mirror and the sword in her hands suddenly turned deathly cold.

 

"Vidar I am as interested in finding whoever led you here as much as you are, rest assured I am not one of those you followed here.Now we should really move on."

Felin followed Mora down the burrow hole and his first thought was relief that they were safely out of Fairy.

His second thought was confusion at seeing a sphere of shadowy energy in the middle of the cave they landed in not far from them...

Turning to Mora and Vidar he asked "I don't suppose either of you know what that is do you?"

 

"I've never seen anything like it... nor like this place" - said Mora, and packed the mirror away, keeping her eyes on the sphere.

The outline of the giant cat moved before the sphere. It pushed at the barrier with a paw, playfully, not really intending to break it, not yet. The sphere rocked left and right a bit, which seemed to please the cat a great deal.

The offending scent of new prey made the beast turn around and face the newcomers, mouth twitched in a half-snarl. The cat stretched, annoyed that its game was interrupted.

Mora gasped and stepped back. This was not good. Not good at all.

 

(I was curious as to ask, would care for another participant within this roleplay? You need not worry, I will not post a profile unless you allow me to join.)