Father,
It is I, Soralla.
My researches have stalled, I felt that coming to the places I was researching would help in composing my treatise. I have made some progress.
I met with Baranthos, Chief of the Colymar Tribe as we discussed
His son, Harmast is somewhat full of himself, but, as you predicted, he obeys his father and is honour bound to accept someone he considers an ‘untested’ warrior. I fear I did myself no favours during our introduction by speaking a purer version of his own tongue than the young man himself speaks. I saved the situation with only a winsome smile. These barbarians are clearly sensitive and my assumptions of immediate acceptance were clearly naive. I was accepted under clan hospitality, and provided some useful advice in one or two trade, deals, but I was clearly an outsider until the incident occurred.
A neighbouring clan launched an unprovoked raid resulting in casualties, stealing some 80 head of cattle. A retributive action was called for and Harmast sought volunteers.
Vasana daughter of Farnam a mighty bison rider from the Emaldori clan was immediately accepted.
Yanioth, daughter of Vareena[/b] is an earth godesss priestess specialising in healing, an obvious choice
Vosta, son of Pyjeem is an initiate of the Mothers. He is from ancient Sartar and therefore suspect, but his obvious skills and renunciation of the Sartarian philosophy have provided him with some measure of trust, I suspect this mission is a means to further prove his worth.
Harmast himself is a capable warrior and an initiate of Issaries, his skill with the broadsword is legendary within the tribe, and he is an heir but has little subtlety about him and fewer manners. He is a pale shadow of his diplomatic and charismatic father, but then his has time to learn.
My own appointment to the quest was initially opposed as my gentle demeanour and mode of dress were clearly too gentile. My inclusion in the quest was assured only when I appealed to Baranthos directly, and then subsequently appeared in armour and beweaponed.
We set off in pursuit of the thieves somewhat later than I imagined was normal, the trail was old as we set out, but clear nonetheless, it is impossible to hide 80 head of cattle.
Our journey was swift, tracking skills largely unnecessary, until we closed on the thieves camp. Evidence of internal strife was immediately apparent, the body of a raider, its throat cut, from the Greydog clan betrays the perpetrators have fallen out and provides a vital clue.
We decide to leave the corpse to the elements as the Greydog raider got what she deserved and to honour the fallen is not a luxury afforded the Colymar dead.
Our intention to leave and pursue the herd is forestalled by the watcher. We spot a furtive figure observing us. Whether friend or foe, we could not say, but only one we are sure. Displaying no ill will we await his approach. And we wait.
Determining to leave the scruffy hermit, (whom I believe we should have known), intervenes. He claims we must honour the dead. it is written. An interesting observation. My comrades appear more inclined to believe the hermit, and agree to honour her remains, albeit grudgingly. The appearance of a mighty storm solidifies the decision to honour the dead and seek shelter with the hermit.
The hermit does not appear surprised when the fallen spirit of the dead raider appears and thanks us.
She claims to have opposed the violence of her leader, Dargar, and more, claims that the unnecessary slaughter sickened her. She spoke up and an argument ensued. She advised Dargar that should be leave in the morning and take no share of the plunder, so sickened was she.
She claims that Dargar slew her as she slept, his cowardice proven. She advised that her oaths to clan were forsaken at that point because of Dargar. She wished us well in catching him, and pleaded for his punishment. The Hermit seemed unsurprised.
The raider has however, let slip several interesting points.
1. The route taken by the Greydogs was unusual, their holdings were due east, and the route was north east, away from the tribe
2. This Dargar mentioned moving the herd to a temple. he mentioned an ancient god.
Father I suspect that this is for blood sacrifice purposes.
In the morning we bid the hermit fairwell and follow the evident trail.
As the leagues pass, the trails becomes fresher and we happen upon the very thing I had sought! Evidence of the old empire!
Menhirs litter the area, of various size and shape. But all forming a sort of road to a distant place… a temple, a shrine or other holy place.
I am ashamed to say I missed the obvious. Were it not for my comrades I would have failed to see the runes. I believe that the earth Goddess Asrelia is the deity prescrtived on the stones. I also noted the presence of a spirit. Using the Goddess power I perceived and spoke with the spirit. Using an ancient prayer to Asrelia I remembered from the 1st book of fertility rites (by Pom’ar arn) this seemed to forestall an attack and we learned that the herd were for sacrifice, and that the ancient ways were awakening.
Somewhat shocked we proceed and happened upon action more to my comrades liking. Ancient cults and blood magic had them confused, but action to save a noble bull from may large reptile adversaries was more common ground!
Battle ensued.
I bless you father for you insistence that I train. As mentioned previously my worth within this group is lacking if I cannot acquit myself with honour and contribute positively.
The decision to rescue the bull having been made, I recalled Master Lobos instruction in the axe. His instruction that an axe in hand is a mighty weapon in combat, an axe in two hands are two mighty weapons in combat, but axes can be thrown and avoid combat altogether.
Suffice it to say, my thrown axes fortuitously struck true. Both axes dropped reptiles, a strike to the chest, and one to the head effectively preventing the creatures from acting.
My comrades accounted for 2 other, but I confess, I felt a certain unseemly bloodlust as I drew my sword and finished the last creature. My tally, 3 of the 5. Harmast looked at me slightly differently and I know as far as the tribe are concerned I am now ‘blooded’.
The priestess heals the bull using power from her runes. An interesting sight to see her at work. Her mystic mutterings and runic incantation are familiar but delivered in a unique way I do not perceive. Either way they are effective. The bull lives.
We venture on.
We happen upon the temple. it is clearly a place for Asrelia, and even more clearly our cattle appear to await their fait. I mention again blood rites and Harmfast is left to contemplate options.
We face a defensible structure. It is open ground, there are between 5 and 10 Dogs present, plus any others they have recruited. The decision is his. We attack and suffer, or we allow the blood ritual. I am intrigues either way. What will the Leaders’ son decide?