For the next several days, the companions settled into the familiar rhythm of Clan life. The newly-arrived refugees from Apple Lane continued to lay foundations for their new community, assisted by the heroes when they could spare the time. Yrsa proudly bought her mother Natalina to join the growing community; she had lived as a thrall for so long, now it was time that she had a roof to call her own. Moreover, Yrsa bought her thrall Dangmet to assist her aging mother, along with her small herd of cattle. Ever surly, Dangmet silently did as he was asked, but Yrsa took note of the dark looks he cast in her direction when he thought her attention was elsewhere. For her part, she revelled in the opportunity to spend time with Avareena, the fellow Initiate of Redalda who led the Horsemasters of Apple Lane. Together, they spoke of establishing a shrine to Redalda and building a herd to be the envy of the Nymie Valley.
Randel likewise had dreams of the future, and wasted no time in setting out to make them a reality. Having engaged craftsmen to build a home suitable to his station, he donned his best cloak and set off to present Eirissa with the gift he had rescued from Gringle’s home. Eirissa was pleased to see Randel again; she had the sense his saga was just beginning, and besides he was charming in a way that few of her other would-be suitors could manage. After exchanging pleasantries, Randel invited Eirissa to visit the growing Stead (or Randel’s Stead as he called it). As their horses ambled towards the Stead in the warm mid-season sunshine, Randel told Eirissa of his plans to build a trading post and create new trading opportunities. Further, he tentatively raised the possibility of founding a shrine to Ernalda at the Stead, which of course would need an Earth Priestess to be in residence. The words hung in the air between them, although the underlying commitment remained unspoken. Eirissa remained neutral in her responses; she was flattered and not opposed to Randel’s offer. But she was likewise ambitious, and did not see her future as a mere shrine-priestess. She knew that great changes were being discussed by the Priestesses at the Earth Temple, and she wanted to be at the heart of whatever was coming.
At the Stead, Terrastal was passing the time chopping wood for the small community. This was not a natural past-time for him, given his less than domestic upbringing, but he found that playing the part of a responsible cottar was a pleasant novelty. Also, he was spending his time preparing for his coming initiation into the Cult of Orlanth, and this simple physical activity was a welcome break from learning myths and forging a link to the God of the Wind. Taking a break from his labour, he looked up as Randel and Eirissa rode into the newly-built stockade. Seeing Randel’s pride in being accompanied by such an attractive companion, Terrastal’s instinct for causing trouble reared its head once more. As Randel and Eirissa rode past, he made a show of removing his sweat-soaked tunic,flexing his muscles and giving Eirissa his most winning smile. As Randel glared at his friend, Eirissa gave Terrastal an appraising glance. She had lost count of the winning smiles sent her way by posturing warriors, and knew how best to deal with them; tossing her hair, she turned to Randel and gave him a brilliant smile. As she did so, her horse turned and flicked its tail, forcing Terrastal to take a step back and sit abruptly on an upturned log. A brief look of surprise mixed with anger, before giving away to amusement; as Randel and Eirissa rode away, they heard loud laughter from Terrastal as he realised how comprehensively he’d been put in his place.
Whilst their companions were engaged in domesticity, Bofrost and Sandene were attending to the more esoteric elements of Clan life. Bofrost busied himself with searching for clues as to the location of the Red Hands of Hofstaring; he knew they were rumoured to be in Boldhome, but he felt sure that there was more for he and his fellow Sages to uncover. Meanwhile, Sandene made her way to the Earth Temple. Since her brush with the mind of her Goddess at Runegate, she had felt unwilling to test the boundaries of the newly-rediscovered bond. Now though, she found her steps were taking her to the shrine of Babeester Gor at the Earth Temple, almost of their own volition. Giving in to the doings of fate, she found herself kneeling at the shrine, reaching out with her soul as she had at Runegate. But try as she might, she couldn’t rekindle the link. As she finished her obeisance and turned away from the shrine, she noted a sharp-featured Axe Maiden regarding her, a thick braid of raven hair hanging over her shoulder. As Sandene made to pass, the Axe Maiden barred her way. ‘What is it that you do here, stranger?’ she asked with an edge of challenge in her voice. Unsettled by her failure to connect with her Goddess, Sandene mumbled apologetically and gave no challenge to the Axe Maiden. Regarding her with mixed pity and contempt, she let Sandene pass with a toss of her head. ‘Be sure you remain meek and mild here, stranger; those offending the Goddess will be swiftly punished, you may be certain’. Again, Sandene lowered her head and left the shrine; those who knew her of old would have been amazed that no blood had resulted from such a disrespectful exchange!
Eventually, the day of the Clan Moot dawned. At the moment that Yelm leaped into the sky, the gatherd Ernaldori began to clap and stamp their feet in unison. Dressed in his finery, Randel joined with Intagarn and Intalgarth One-Arm in chanting a welcome to Issaries and an admonishment to those who would attend the Moot with evil in their hearts. Once the area of the Moot was thus consecrated and defended, the gathered Clanspeople gave a great cheer, and began chattering and laughing as they greeted each other. A Clan Moot was not only a solemn occasion, but an opportunity to trade, drink, laugh and renew bonds of fellowship. Much of the business of the Moot dealt with settling grievances, joining families through marriage and deciding on smaller matters of trade and Clan business. Whilst his companions enjoyed the festival atmosphere, Randel spoke to would-be cottars; the growing Stead needed four more families to farm the hides of land granted to them by the Clan Ring if it was to prosper.
Finally, in the late afternoon the Moot turned its attention to more serious matters. It seemed as if the Clan held its breath as Morganeth White-Eye, Priestess of Ernalda and leader of the Clan Ring in Baranthos’ enforced absence, rose to her feet. “Ernaldori, hear me!” she began, in a clear voice, belying her age. “You all know of the wondrous events that took place at the Feast of Beasts, when Orlanth and Ernalda saw fit to manifest in the persons of Ernalsulva of the Greenstone Temple and our very own Terrastal!”. There was a smattering of cheering throughout the gathered folk, but more apparent was a general curiosity; Terrastal was an unknown quantity to many, having spent his youth in flouting Clan laws and generally getting into trouble. The question hanging in everyone’s mind (not least Terrastal’s!) was: ‘why him?’. As Terrastal shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the Clan, Morganeth carried on. “As you know, Orlanth-as-Terrastal invoked the Marriage Contest; in response, Ernalda-as-Ernalsulva had demanded the return of the Red Hands of Hofstaring, her father”. At this, the crowd began to mumble anew; all knew that Hofstaring Treeleaper had been cast into a Lunar hell by Fazzur Wideread’s sorcerors, and was even now being tormented by Lunar demons. Surely, coming between the Lunars and their vengeance could bring only ill-fortune on the Clan. Morganeth spoke up once more: “we have a decision to make; should Terrastal and his companions have the blessing of the Clan in this endeavour, or should they be forbidden from pursuing it? For my part, this is a great honour and a weighty responsibility for the Clan, and we should bless those so chosen by the Gods”. As she sat down, Terrastal stepped forward to speak, and he did so eloquently, appealing to the Clan’s love of tradition and memories of better times before the Lunars came. The mood of the Clan began to soften towards him, and he began to breathe a sigh of relief. As he did so, however, a round and stooped figure rose to his feet from the seats set aside for the Clan Ring. Colymar, follower of Barntar the God of the Plough, cleared his throat to speak, and the Clan waited for his words. “But what will the Lunars do in response to this?” he spoke in a halting voice. “This can only lead to misery and hardship for us and our families!”. Again, the mood of the Clan shifted, and for a moment it seemed that the quest was doomed. Seeing this, Terrastal reacted with predictable rage, but reasoned and impassioned words from all of the companions swayed the crowd, and in the end the crowd agreed to the journey to Boldhome to retrieve the Red Hands with a great cheer. As Clanfolk crowded round to clap him on the back, Terrastal shrugged them off to speak to Colymar as he trudged away. As he offered words of reassurance, Barntar looked him in the eye with a sad expression. “I hope you remember my children when you’re off being a hero, as it is they who will pay if you overreach yourself’. As Colymar continued on his way, Terrastal felt the weight of true responsibility for the first time.
As Morganeth stood to call and end to the Moot, a new voice rose up, thin and reedy. “Hold! I demand to be heard!”. The voice belonged to Leikan, a cottar who usually kept to himself. “We are without a Chief” he continued “and a Clan without a Chief is incomplete in the sight of the Gods”. Seeing nods of agreement amongst the crowd, he went on. “I demand we consider this, and look to choose a new chief!”. Shouts of rage and arguing voices rose into the night air; never had Morganeth seen the mood of a Clan change from unity to dissent so quickly. Typically, Terrastal reacted with anger, whilst his companions were more reasoned. But it took Morganeth to coldly put Leikan in his place; it was clear that he had been put up to it by someone, as his fine new cloak showed. “You would do well to pay attention to the laws of the Clan before making such an ill-considered demand, Leikan. Perhaps you should go back to your benefactor and discuss your strategy in more detail next time!”. As Leikan slunk away, followed by the jeers of his Clanfolk, it was clear that Lunar sympathisers in the Clan were moving against Baranthos, no doubt encouraged by Kangharl and his cronies. The companions knew that this would not be the last time, and that their enemies would not give up.
That evening, Terrastal finally undertook his long-delayed initiation into the Cult of Orlanth. As the worship of Orlanth was officially outlawed by the Lunar overlords, Terrastal stole away to meet with Kareena, the Priestess of Orlanth who had travelled with them from Apple Lane. Accompanied by Drenyan as his sponsor, and supported by his companions, Terrastal began by rejecting any allegiance to enemies of Orlanth and swore to devote himself to the winds. Not knowing what awaited him, he steeled himself for the test ahead. Leaving his companions behind, he followed Kareena to a hill a few miles from Clearwine. As they climbed the hill in the gathering darkness, it seemed to Terrastal that storm clouds gathered in the skies above and thunder rumbled in the distance, slow and heavy in the still air.
Reaching the summit, Kareena kindled a small fire and busied herself with preparing an evil-smelling broth whilst Terrastal stripped and placed his clothes and possessions in a small bag. Wordlessly, Kareena bade Terrastal drink the broth in one draught, before gathering up his discarded possessions and leaving the summit. As though waiting for her to leave, the storm clouds began to thicken and winds began to batter Terrastal’s bare flesh. Before long, lightning began to strike the ground around, coming nearer and nearer. Trusting in Orlanth, the young warrior felt the earth rise up around him in great spires. As lightning continues to strike the ground, the earth bucked and heaved like an unbroken colt and Terrastal lost any sense of what was real and unreal. Yet through the chaos, Terrastal heard a single pure note, as if the sharpest blade was being held up in a strong wind. Focussing on the purity of this sound and on his faith in Orlanth, Terrastal was able to bring order to the chaos. Further, within the chaos Terrastal became aware of another; a heavy, solid presence that reached out to him and steadied him with arms of stone and a mother’s stern love: Idrima was also there to support him in his trial! As the world settled back into its former shape, he fell exhausted to the ground and slept as if dead.
Some time later, as Yelm rose into the Upper Air, Terrastal woke to find Kareena standing over him. Wordlessly he dressed and followed Kareena back to the Stead, where his companions and a celebratory feast awaited him. As he ate, he mused on the presence of Idrima in his vision, and wondered whether the omen was good or bad...
That day, the heroes were summoned to meet with Ernalda to discuss a matter that had concerned the Priesthood of the Earth Temple for some weeks. Idrima’s awakening had shocked many; such an occurrence had been unknown up to now. However, it had been decided that an Earth Temple delegation should travel to the Broken Tower, commune with the Awakened Goddess and begin the process of transferring her shrine to the Clearwine Temple. As the heroes were known to Idrima and her followers, they had agreed to accompany the delegation, protect them and make any necessary intercessions on their behalf.
At the Earth Temple, the heroes met with those chosen to commune with Idrima. Jenest Fair-Tongue was a round-faced, jovial Priestess who always had something good to say about others; a swelling in her belly showed that she took the duties of an Earth Priestess seriously. Randel was surprised to see that Jenest was accompanied by Eirissa; his beloved was obviously bursting with pride at being chosen for this duty, as it would ncrease her standing within the temple community. The final figure stood somewhat apart from the others; a sharp-featured Axe Maiden with a single thick braid of midnight-black hair. As she regarded them coolly, her eyes settled on Sandene and her lips parted in a faint curl of distaste. “And this is Magana” continued Morganeth “an Axe Maiden as you see. Magana, these are your new companions.” Morganeth’s voice became stern “Remember our conversation, Magana. A lone tree cannot stand against the storm”. Scowling, Magana bowed her head in obedience, but Sandene saw that the look of distaste did not leave her face.
After spending the night at the Stead, the party set out for the Broken Tower the following day. The weather was fine and warm for the season, and their destination was a day’s travel at an easy pace. Jenest was full of plans for the future. Although she recognised that bringing Idrima into the fold would be challenging and may take many years, she was confident that she would be able to reach the Goddess and show her the way home. Eirissa was likewise excited at the prospect of such an adventure and rode side by side with Randel, taking his arm in hers more than once. The rest of the party rode along companionably, with two exceptions; Sandene and Magana rode on opposite sides of the group, watching for danger whilst casting dark sidelong glances at each other.
The group reached the Broken Tower towards late afternoon without incident. Approaching the shrine, the companions could see the Broken Tower itself rising above the familiar ruined walls. As soon as they came within bow-shot of the walls, they were hailed by a group of watchers who came through the great gate to greet them. Randel, Yrsa and Terrastal recognised the short figure that led the watchers as Jayvis Thunderthroat, a Sword of Humakt who had been enthralled by Idrima. Despite the companions’ fears, they were greeted warmly and welcomed into the ruins. It was clear that life went on as before in the small community, with the same odd mix of Sartarite, Lunar and Tarshite adherents living and working together without apparent animosity; under a lean-to, deep in shadow, there was even the lumpen form of a Dark Troll, apparently sleeping without any fear of its human comrades.
They were ushered into the shrine of Idrima without any fanfare. Those who had been there before recognised the massive stone bulk of the Stone Goddess looming out of the torch-lit interior, and smelled the tang of sacrificial cattle blood in the air. Jenest and Eirissa were filled with excitement, and determined to begin the ritual of contacting the Awakened Goddess the very next day. For their part, the companions were concerned about how their plans would sit with Idrima’s current followers. Eating a simple meal with Jayvis and other respected followers of the Stone Woman, it became clear that they were sanguine; whatever the Awakened Goddess wished was all that they desired. Not for the first time, the companions were glad that they had not been enthralled so completely; although Idrima was a force for good in their view, it would be unsettling to be so in thrall to such an inhuman entity.
The following day, Jenest and Eirissa made all the preparations to make contact with Idrima. Eventually, all was in readiness and the ritual began, observed by as many of Idrima’s enthralled followers as could fit into the ruined tower with the remainder clustering outside. At the ritual’s height, Jenest sacrificed an ox and cried out for Idrima to make her presence known.
Silence.
Again, Jenest called out.
A thin wind moaned through the upper reaches of the ruins.
A third time, Jenest called out, her arms raised high. Seeing her desperation, Terrastal reached out with his own soul, seeking contact with Idrima. At the same time, Sandene stepped to the sacrificial altar, drawing her dagger and slicing into her palm, letting thick globs of blood splash onto the altar. Immediately, Sandene and Terrastal collapsed to the floor, Terrastal gashing his head on the edge of the altar as he did so.
They found themselves amongst warriors clad in strange armour and shouting war cries in an unknown tongue. A soft mist and a bright, unnatural edge to the colours told them both that they were in a spirit vision. As they looked around and locked eyes across the crowd of warriors, a huge shout went up from the throng and they found themselves carried along in what was evidently an infantry charge. Looking ahead, they both saw the target of the charge; a mass of chaos beasts, howling and baying in challenge. Feeling themselves being caught up in the emotion of the moment, they both began to yell and shout war cries. Suddenly, a shadow fell over them as an immense humanoid figure stepped over the warband, charging towards the chaos horde. Looking up at the immense stone figure, they recognised the stone statue in the Broken Tower come to life.
Suddenly, they felt themselves thrown back into their bodies with a shock. Opening their eyes, they saw Jenest, Eirissa and their companions looking down on them in concern. Shaking off their assistance, Sandene pulled herself to her feet and staggered over to Magana. Wordlessly, Magana reached out her hand and took Sandene’s forearm in a warrior’s grip. Sandene’s connection with the Earth had been renewed, but in a way she had never expected.
However, although Terrastal and Sandene had made contact with Idrima, the Goddess remained stubbornly indifferent to Jenest’s pleas. However, Jenest was made of sterner stuff and determined to try again the following day.
On Freezeday of Illusion Week, the shrine was once more prepared for the ritual of awakening. Once more, the Enthralled crowded around the tower, expressions of rapt joy on their faces at the prospect of encountering their Goddess. Yrsa stood somewhat apart from this, feeling apart from the Earth cultists. She had expressed her own gratitude to Redalda the evening before, as this was where she had first encountered the Green Foal and formed her link with the Horse Goddess. As she stood observing, she heard the sound of a harsh warhorn and braying war-cries. Turning towards the sound, she saw the first Enthralled fall below the cleaver of a twisted amalgam of goat and man; a vile Broo! Looking past the creature, Yrsa saw what could only be described as a boiling wall of misshapen chaos beasts. Hefting her trusty spear, she shouted a warning to her companions: to war!
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