Serhiem was certainly in a tricky situation here, though it seemed everyone was in agreement that the Orc should at least be rewarded for his efforts. "So be it, give him five cows as a reward. Ardghal shall deliver this, I wouldn't want your sickness afflicting you on this journey, Seòras. As for the poison, make them into projectiles as it would be a great deterrent to an enemy charge once they see their men afflicted in such a manner." Serhiem stroked his unkept beard before saying, "This meeting is adjourned. You may all go about your business."

---

Through some difficult talking with Eliz, Serhiem managed to get the strange bow away from her so that he and the other craftsman may study and attempt to replicate it for the Gallocemen. It would prove to be a great asset in their defensive and offensive capabilities.

"Alright, describe to me what it is like," Serhiem ordered as he felt it for a bit, trying to make heads or tells of what the thing was like. "Well, it is like a sort cross with the bar at the very end of it. There seems to be some sort of mechanism that released the arrow once it is loaded in," Garsh, one of Serhiem's close friends, said as the others nodded in agreement. They were all crowded around the table with supplies and parchment to see if they could write down how the design truly goes. Then, they proceeded to go to work.

Eliz leaned on the table, hands joined under her chin as she looked at Maire. There was a feint smirk as she spoke of poison jars. It came to surprise for Eliz that Maire would actually suggest using poison, even more so, that she'd had already given the production orders to her thralls. Poison would always be seen as an underhanded way to do things. Not that Eliz cared of course, what she wanted was results and she wouldn't deny the use of weapons with splash damage. They'd do admirably under her guidance.

Then of course, there was that little sting. Maire was right, Eliz would never miss such slights, but it made her raise her chin in an arrogant sneer, as this proved that Maire was nothing but a cowering snake that couldn't afford to face her head on. No matter what damage her own reputation had suffered, Eliz was confident that she still held more sway than this fat little thorn in her side. And she also believed that was because she never allowed anything to slide.

Which was why to that menacing gaze, she answered with wide grin, full of teeth and confidence. One would perhaps be careful when dealing with an alchemist that just spoke of fabricating poison, but Eliz saw this in a much different light. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. The only reason Eliz hadn't asked to duel Maire to humiliate her either in defeat, having to chose a champion or to refuse the challenge was because the rest of the council and the gods themselves would see this with disapproval, and it was now why she oozed with certitude that Maire's hands were tied. And that indeed, the best thing to do, was to push things even further.

By keeping the undeclared war between the two of them known and more open than not, if Eliz died, everyone would look at Maire on the very moment her body was found. Worst still, even if it wasn't the case, the gods themselves would no doubt punish such murderous actions and people would have no choice but be confronted with the truth. No, Maire had made a mistake. To consider Eliz's aggressive, even reckless stance on all things to be stupidity, to consider her a person to hot headed to think. Eliz wouldn't be the one to cross the invisible line in the sand, but she'd dance on it, that was for sure.

And that was why Eliz got up, bowing in false humility to Maire. "I thank thee for your kind words, but I assure you it was barely a challenge at all and I am glad the council supported me all along. Which is why I'd like to announce my intention to the council to, before moon season, clear the pests in the barrows and avenge our fallen following the previous little mistakes that were made by our first expedition. With the approval of those sitting here, of course."

Eliz seeking approval for something? That was new, but mostly it was because she didn't care for this to be denied. No, this was just to push Maire's mistakes on the stage. Of course she knew she'd have to deliver if Serhiem accepted her request, but she wasn't worried. After all, thus far she had known only success and, gods willing, this would continue for the reminder of the year.

It wasn't there for a second, she didn't even care to hide it, a look of pure confidence, superiority and arrogance straight at Maire, daring to say something, anything for or against that.

What will you do? What can you even do?

Oh it would be that easy, surely Maire had a few tricks up her sleeve and if not death, no doubt Eliz could get a bad diarrhea, but one had to push the advantage.

___________________________________

I need to post about that Raid

@Mardox @Eklispe @Lauder @Lexicon @Wernher @babbysama @Jangel13

---

The clan's decision is made. Serheim sends Ardghal as an emissary to the orc, hoping that the gallocman's status as a leader and warrior in the clan will help persuade the orc of the sincerity of his message. Everyone hopes that Ardghal returns with the orc, and soon: if the orc were to join the clan, they would have a powerful warrior on their side.

Ardghal goes forth to speak with the orc accompanied by two other gallocmen with the child, Fiona, as his guide. They bring three cows to the orc, which he seems glad to accept. He offers reciprocal gifts in return, but he has only meager treasure, though he gifts quite generously from what he has. The negotiations are not as successful as anyone had hoped. He does not seem willing to become a member of the clan and submit himself to its laws. However, he does seem to understand there is a threat to the clan, and he agrees to join the clan in battle as payment for the cows he has been brought.

Ardghal returns to the clan with that promise made. He also learns that the orc was banished from his clan for having some sort of affliction or disease, though neither he nor the orc could communicate well enough to make clear what that was. The orc swore that Clan Aonghus was safe from it.

(@Mardox -3 cattle, +1 goods, the orc agrees to join us in the coming battle)

---

Maire takes her time carefully producing a poison to use against the enemy. She places it in jars to be thrown, and also finds time to make some to be applied to the blades of the gallocmen and kerns who will fight that day. Nobody would call it an honorable deed, but nobody would refuse such a useful tool in desperate times, either.

Seoras fashions together extra spears. He is rushed, and so he doesn't produce as high of a quality as he normally wood. Still, the spears will be useful when thrown, and the kerns who follow Seoras have other weapons they can use once the clash begins.

Dunlad shores up the defenses of the village. Should any raiders make it to the palisade, they'll be hard pressed to make way into the village at all.

Titania decides to give the troops she's been training one last lesson in accordance with Eliz's plan. She helps them practice hit-and-run tactics, carefully explaining when during the raid they'll need to fall back. They seem to understand, but there's no way of knowing just how well they do until the battle starts.

(@Eklispe @Jangel13 @Lexicon @babbysama)

---

The battle has begun.

The battle did not begin well, for the magic of the enemy was greater than ours.

The warriors and the kerns clash against the Greenfeathers while Titania and Eliz distract the Nightfell raiders. The fighting is fierce by the river: javelins are thrown, chaotic magic hurled, and screams of anger or pain rise into the air. And though outnumbered, though heavily outmatched, the Greenfeathers fight like cornered rats.

Perhaps even the weakest-willed of warriors can become giants when their backs are to the river. So it seems with the Greenfeathers and their mercenaries: uncertain of their ability to run away, the band stays together, shields raised. With shout to Urak, their leader hefts his mace in the air and calls for the earth to give way before our men. Sinkholes form; the earth cracks; and all, for a moment, seems lost as some good men fall into those pits to be stabbed by Greenfeather spears.

But the beat of Serheim's drums and the ghostly magic of Ardghal are enough to urge the men onward still. They move around the pits, slamming into the shieldwall of the enemy. Seoras fights bravest of them all, demonstrating true valor, and proves himself a good leader of men. But he takes a mace to the back, and is stabbed with a spear as he goes down. He is terribly wounded, and has to be dragged to safety by his men. Thankfully, he survives.

As the Greenfeathers are finally being forced to wade through the river to retreat, albeit with considerable wounds on Aonghus' side, the warriors of the Nightfell are being sent scattering by an ambush they did not expect. They are especially terrified by the orc, who fights with a ferocity nobody could have imagined: as the ambush is triggered against the Nightfell, the orc leaps out from the bushes, charging by himself against a group of no less than twenty of the Nightfell. He sends them fleeing for their lives, at one point sending four men flying through the air with a single swing of his axe, shouting out the names of whatever gods he worships in a guttural tongue. It's a terrifying sight to behold.

Between the orc, Eliz's well thought out plan, Maire's poisons and Titania's well trained troops, they are able to send the Nightfell retreating across the fields with rather few casualties. Eliz, however, takes an arrow to the shoulder during the fighting. She might well have died from a hail of arrows if not for the armor she wears. Nobody else on that side of the battle takes any serious injuries.

The battle is won, albeit with some loss. The defense prepared by the Greenfeathers was surprising to say the least, though it would not have been possible if our magic had not been overwhelmed by the combined powers of the mages from two clans. There are good spoils to be had.

Rumor spreads that Clan Aonghus makes deals with poisoners and orcs. Several clans seem upset by this, but merchants from Clan Vendari inform the Council that perhaps making deals with the Vendari, who likewise understand the necessities of life in this harsh land, might be beneficial to both Clan Aonghus and Clan Vendari...

Dunlad's son performed well in the battle, fighting bravely alongside Ardghal. He was wounded, taking a spear's thrust to his thigh, but otherwise is fine. The gallocmen toast his name and praised him for a good first battle.

The orc seems to have vanished after the battle. He has probably returned to his hovel in the woods.

(@Mardox @Eklispe @Lauder @Wernher @Jangel13

Eliz is wounded, and Seoras is seriously wounded. The gallocmen seem to respect Seoras more than before. Confidence in Eliz surges after her plan saves the day. Clan Morik, Clan Cinaede, and Clan Truthseeker all seem to disapprove of our actions. Clan Vendari's merchants seem VERY interested in securing some sort of deal with us.

8 kerns were slain and 20 kerns were wounded in this battle. 3 gallocmen were slain and 4 were wounded.

We have taken 7 thralls in this battle, 3 goods worth of equipment, and 4 horses from the enemy. We dealt a blow to Clan Greenfeather. They will be easier to strike at for this season and the next.)

---

Emboldened by her string of successes, Eliz decides to raid the Greenfeathers before they can recover. The night after the battle, she leads her men in a night raid, bringing a great many extra torches to make her forces seem much larger than they are. Her hope is to fool the Greenfeathers into thinking they are facing an overwhelming force and to act defensively.

However, she did not expect the Greenfeathers to charge out at her.

In truth, the actions of the Greenfeathers at this moment, if they HAD been facing overwhelming numbers, would have been disastrous. If they HAD faced such a force, they would have surely been cut down like pigs, especially given their inability to fight well in the night like Clan Aonghus. However, they are led by a brash young man on a horse who shouts for them to sally forth, to show them what it means to fight the Greenfeathers... and more idealistic tripe. Apparently, the Greenfeather leader, wise as he was, has been replaced by a foolish boy.

But dumb luck wins out for the Greenfeathers this day.

Eliz's men are quickly overtaken by Greenfeather horsemen, their escape cut off, and while those horsemen are dealt with promptly, the raiders are then surrounded by a mass of angry, groggy kerns. It takes a lot of running and desperate fighting for Eliz's men to break away from the field, and even then several (including Eliz) are forced to abandon their horses as stray arrows and javelins wound the poor beasts. No loot is had, and the raid is a total disaster.

(@Wernher

7 horses are left behind in the raid, either slain or taken by Clan Greenfeather. 2 gallocmen are either slain or captured, as are 2 kerns. You are not wounded in this battle. Any loot you gained during the raid is left behind.)

---

Serheim experiments with the dwarven weapon in his free time as much as he can. It is a long and difficult process, hampered by his blindness, but... he succeeds.

Thanks to Serheim's efforts, Clan Aonghus can now make crossbows.

(@Lauder)

---

Waning Fire

There do not seem to be any more raids on the horizon this season for Clan Aonghus. It's a good thing. After the Greenfeathers embarrassed our warriors not once but twice, the clan is looking forward to a reprieve. Or... perhaps now is the time to get back at the Greenfeathers? The clan has many wounded, but perhaps there might be a way to take the fight to the Greenfeathers. The warriors, at least, seem to believe this is a proper course of action.

The clan is in need of more gallocmen now. Perhaps the time has come to allow those kerns who have been training to become gallocmen themselves, or to recruit gallocmen from the countryside or from other clans. Perhaps...

Domagoj has fallen very ill this season, and no medicine or magic seems to help. It is, perhaps, the infirmity of old age. He has withdrawn from the Council for the time being. His voice will be sorely missed.



Odo, Dunlad's son, comes before the Council wearing armor and carrying a fine axe looted from the battle at his hip. He wears a look of anger and confidence, and when he speaks, it becomes clear that he wishes to lead a raid against Clan Greenfeather.

"We must regain our honor," he says emphatically, "and the other gallocmen believe I have the strength and will to lead us to victory. If you'll let me do that, I will make certain that we show the Greenfeathers why our ancestors were made warriors of the Tuad Rithe."

It's a strange statement, Odo saying the gallocmen support him. Perhaps they do. He has certainly been popular. But only a fool would prop up a boy as a leader of a raid, or perhaps someone that wanted to see the boy made a mockery of... unless, perhaps, someone sincerely believes the boy has potential as a leader. But the question remains: who could that be? Who put him up to this?

Nevertheless, he doesn't have to be allowed to lead a full fledged raid. He could be sent on a cattle raid instead. He could also be made a second-in-command, or simply not allowed to lead a raid at all.

The choice - and the fate of Dunlad's son - rests in the Council's hands.

(@Mardox @Eklispe @Lauder @Wernher @Jangel13 @babbysama @Lexicon)

---

A stroke of luck arrives for the clan: the Children of Mercy, worshipers all of the gentle goddess Dyvella, have come to Clan Aonghus to offer their services.

"We understand you have suffered greatly this season," says their leader, a soft, sad smile on her face. "You have lost much. We are willing to heal your wounded, should you be willing to offer us payment for such services."

The traditional payment is seven cows or seven goods, though given how many wounded there are, it may perhaps be better to offer a greater payment in return for the mercy of the goddess. After all, there's a great deal of work to be done.

"Or," she adds carefully, folding her hands together as she speaks, "you could refrain from attacking other clans for this season and the next. If you agree to pursue peace, we will heal your wounded for free."

This 'payment' makes sense, both because the goddess prefers peace to war and because one of the clans whose members join the Children of Mercy most is the Greenfeather clan. The leader hails from Clan Andal herself, but enough of the Children may desire peace for their kin to convince her to make this offer.

What shall the Council choose to do?

(@Mardox @Eklispe @Lauder @Wernher @Jangel13 @babbysama @Lexicon)

---

@Mardox - As your character did not take an action last turn (as far as I know), you may take two actions this turn. (Nevermind - you spoke to the orc.)

Seoras groaned as he woke up that day still feeling like hell after that raid. He had no idea he would be wounded so badly in the raid defense but he would do it again if need be. Seoras got strike in the back with a mace and he got a spear to his left shoulder forcing him into a sling. He needs a cane now just to get around even with difficulty, he cant stop leaving however he is still a council member damn it and he will be damned if this will stop him from fulfilling his duty. Seoras used his cane to walk into the council room to discuss things today with the others the first order of business was with an arrogant brat who thought he was ready to be a leader while he might be a known warrior among his friends he cant even understand what it takes to be a leader. Seoras doesn't want this child to lead anyone at least not without supervision "Odo you are not ready to lead a raiding party I believe that you need to be supervised first. I purpose that one our warriors that much more experienced lead a raiding party with you in second in command if you can impress them then we will genuinely consider you leading a party. I believe that @WernherEliz should lead you she is the better warrior among us and if anyone can teach you how to fight its her."

It was a surprise that he noticed that followers from goddess Dyvella came to their clan to offer their services to heal their people its no secret that their number dwindled and Seoras was among the wounded he would no doubt need their help but their price to help each of their people would make them loose all their known goods if not most of them in one fell swoop. However they offered to service them for free if they swore not to raid any other clans this and the next season. This was perfect because this would force the clan to pursue peace and that is just what Seoras wants to do with the clan and show that they are peaceful "I purpose we take the deal to not raid. Its no secret that we are weakened from the recent raid I suggest we change our methods and pursue peace instead of violence. Peace lasts longer then violence and revenge for being attacked. Our reputation is sullied because other clans think of us as using Orcs and poison pursing peace means that we only use extreme measures when provoked like we were with this raid. I believe we need to take the deal and replenish our numbers." Seoras said as he coughed loudly and could only look away from the others as he did so since he couldn't use his hand to cover his mouth from his recent injuries

Cadoc clenched his teeth as he looked at the mass of Nightfell before them. There was only 6 of them in front of the dozens of enemies. Seven, if you counted the orc. "Scared?" Cadoc nervously looked at Eliz's cool and composed expression. "Fuckin' madwoman! I don't have a fancy armor to hide under!" No, he had a shield. Ultimately, Eliz removed her helmet, so the Nightfell, an arrow away, could see her face. She raised her fist in the air and screamed her lungs out, the others following suit. Visibly, the Nightfell were hardly impressed to see a few idiots scream at them. Putting her mask back on, Eliz decided to add insult to injury and drew her bow. Her arrow flew straight, guided by Cairis to take out one of the mounted enemies, causing the 6 others around her to roar with more rage, and causing their enemies to realize they were still in battle.

There was a first wave of arrows to answer to them and miraculously, none of the 6 suicidal warriors fell, even if Eliz felt the sting of an arrow in her shoulder. Her men would have been nervous about this if it hadn't been such a miracle that only this arrow had gotten to her, standing in the middle of a field without protection!

They advanced, the 7 slowly backed away toward the tall grass and when they were in position, it was the moment her own archers got up and began to fire on the enemies. Realizing there were only a few archers, the Nightfell rather than fall back, decided to surge forward to cut them down like grass. Only a few arrows had been fired before the Archers brought their horses back on their feet and mounted them, along with the six others on the front line. Only the orc went on to charge on foot, a sign of what was to come as the ground began to thunder, all the war horses of the Clan charging as one wave toward the Nightfell raiders.

The kerns didn't ask for more and the group began to slowly break away but the commander did a good job maintaining order even if the closer the cavalry got, the more people lost their heart. "Now!" Leading the heroic counter charge, Eliz turned her horse to circle around the core of the Nightfell group, their Gallocmen, and threw her jar of poison with her good arm. They circled around, but what broke the nucleus was no doubt the orc, arriving late despite rushing in earlier, who just jumped in the group, slashing anything that moved and sending the brave warriors away.

"We've got them on the run!" Another loud cheer of victory. Eliz looked at them, defenseless, ripe for the picking... but she turned to see the Greenfeather, somehow holding. She bit her lip... a few thralls weren't worth it. She blew in her horn, attracting the attention of not only her men, but of the Greenfeather who saw their allies fleeing the battle... and the enemy cavalry regroup and head toward them.

_________________________________

"Regroup our forces, the enemy is in disaray, we'll let Nightfell retreat, they're not worth the hassle and I prefer monsterslayers to have some strength, if only to attract the foul beasts of the land to them, we'll go after Greenfeather. Tonight." Bedwyr frowned. "Tonight? The men are tired, they need to rest." Eliz gave him a smile as an answer. "So are they! If you have an advantage, take it Bedwyr." The duo had stayed on the battlefield to scout the retreat of the Greenfeather across the river and supervise the plunder and only now entered the village. What happened then however took Eliz by complete surprise.

Cheers. Many of them and a thunder of clapping for the hero of the hour. Bedwyr looked at his commander with amusement and for a good reason, for a rare time in her life, Eliz was caught completely by surprise and not knowing what to do. She wasn't used to this, oh of course she had gained many victories, some more impressive than that, but this was different. It was a defensive battle. Rather than bringing back things to benefit herself and her men, she had contributed to protecting everyone and their belonging.

Timidly, Eliz raised an arm in the air, closing her fist with a smile. Without sarcasm, without arrogance, with a much more positive outlook on things. Bedwyr scoffed. "Look at how easily you get used to this." This call to reality however made Eliz regain her composure and move away from the crowd. "I could get used to people trusting that I know best..."

________________________________

"They saw through it." Eliz frowned as she rode full speed toward the incoming Greenfeathers. No, they couldn't possibly... her ruse was perfect. "They saw through it!" No they didn't! This... this was to buy time for the village to prepare defenses, that or Greenfeather had hired another fresh army of mercenaries, they couldn't possibly had known this would happen, they couldn't be as stupid as to charge in an enemy trice their numbers!

"...Shit. We continue, full speed ahead!" She took her horn and sounded the retreat. It wasn't for the rest of her forces however. Eliz knew most of her forces right now was made of kern with little in term of combat abilities than their enthusiasm, if the Greenfeathers, as bad as they were, made it to the bulk of their forces it'd be a massacre. No, she had to, with what few professionals she had, hold the tide of enemies before retreating. This battle was lost and they hadn't even begun to fight.

And worst of all, Eliz would have to slug it out with the rest of the group.

Her wounded arm didn't allow her to fight at range, all she could do was draw sword. She hopped that armor would protect her as well as it did earlier. "To me! If we find the commander and kill him, maybe we can turn this around!"

But it wasn't destined to be. Eliz slashed left and right. Untrained kerns of all the things they had thrown at her, if she had planned things differently they'd have slaughtered them all. To her horror, she felt her horse give way and was left on the ground, thankfully not pinned under the horse. Still... left and right, enemies still. Was this it? Suddenly a strong grip got her from behind, if she got pinned on the ground! She turned to try and slay the grappler but only saw Cadoc pulling her back, covered in blood, his own and that of the enemies. "The rest of the useless turds are far away enough! Get out!"

She threw Eliz backward, the only thing preventing her to fall being the horse of Bedwyr who moved a hand toward her. "Climb!" She reached for it, knowing there was no use staying here. "Cadoc!" She giant of a man smashed a head with his maul. "Get your unfuckable ass out of here Fryface, its my moment to be a big god damn hero!" No, she wanted for this to be the moment Bedwyr would be a big god damn hero and finally die so she wouldn't have to endure his two faced support, not the big imbecile that always did support her to do so!

__________________________________

This hadn't gone as planned, everyone knew that, but as Eliz walked up to the council, she did so with the certitude that they still had the advantage. She had seen it, as did the Gallocmen. Despite their defeat, Greenfeather only had kerns to send at them during the last battle, it was a show that their fighters had suffered greatly during their failed raid. Clan Aonghus had lost much, but they still had some force left, unlike the Greenfeather. Now was the time to finish them and deal damages they would never be able to recover from, even if it meant losing even more men.

__________________________________

Eliz closed her eyes and cursed her bad luck as the Children of Mercy made their offer. She knew that council, she knew the way they would lean. She asked for one of her thrall to come and whispered in his ear as people around the hall spoke. The thrall went to Serhiem and leaned in his ear, whispering so only he may listen.

"Chief Serhiem, sir. Eliz wishes to tell you... It is of the utmost importance the clan does not agree to stop raiding. She's convinced that, no matter how much we lost, Greenfeather are closer to breaking than us and would stake her life on it. She begs you to refuse them to heal our men for free... She's willing to pay for the price they ask, assuming she can get it back if her raid is successful, and would be in your debt... she swears on her honor and faith she'll do as you ask without any question or protest anything you'd order her to do... or not to do, if you give her this favor."

Eliz's words wasn't worth much, then again it was one of the rare time she went out of her way to make a promise, most of the time people had to twist her arm to get her to swear something, and even then she rarely did as asked by spite to be forced. She just hopped with her handing over the crossbow and going to duel the Stormcaller chief, the confidence he had in her would be enough.

She pronounced herself on the matter of the Child of Mercy with categorical refusal. "Out of the question, we cannot possibly consider this. We have lost much, I agree to this, but the loses we caused are beyond anything we could possibly have suffered and we are at a critical junction. Either we press on and make this sacrifice worthwhile, and maybe make sure Greenfeather won't be a problem for the years to come, or we rest and allow them to do the same, allow them to recuperate and train more men, hire more mercenaries to use against us. It's do or die!" She said, slamming her fists on the table.

She hated this democratic concept and in her head swore against these holy women who couldn't have offered their help at a worst moment. Worst was that she knew she couldn't go against them if they decided to go with their offer, it was one thing to defy men, but even she wasn't stupid enough to defy gods, such a thing would surely curse them. She'd whore herself out right now for the vote to swing her way, she knew in her guts this was a critical moment for the clan as a whole.

____________________________________

Odo's matter was ultimately trivial for the clan as a whole, and Eliz's mind was incredibly focused on the matter of the Dyvellan priests it only annoyed her to see such a thing before the council. But she knew, knew that this had more importance for her own immediate well being than the rest of what was happening here. She eyed Maire and Dunlad on the corner of her eyes... she was willing to bet the two of them were up to this. Eyes were on her, after all, Eliz lead raids while she was his age, she had to be careful or would seem like an hypocrite. She mulled the question, trying to figure out a way to end this in her favor somehow... Slowly, she got up, allowing herself that since this was a matter close to her and her area of expertise. She raised her eyes on Odo, locking hers with his.

"Odo... I cannot refuse your request. After all, I was a year younger than you when my battle master died in combat and I stepped up to take command. At your age, I was already doing what you ask. But... fact is it is not for me as a councilor to accept or refuse this." Eliz placed her fists on the table and leaned toward Odo.

"It is to the men. Leadership is not granted by the council, it is given by the men going to battle. So even if the council choses to make you leader of a raid, I'll tell you Odo, I won't put my life in your hands because a group formed half by craftsmen and farmers with little to no raiding and fighting experience tell me to. But..."

She straightened her back and crossed her arms. "I'll tell you as a Gallocman and leader of multiple raids, and a successful one at that." She made a pause. Her stern and serious look made way to a more relaxed expression, almost friendly and convivial. "You have at least half of what it takes to lead. The will and the ambition to do so. The next thing to prove you have is the intelligence skill to be good at it. Some have the former..." She turned her gaze toward Maire, just long enough for some to notice. "...But lack the later." She turned her eyes away with a faint smirk on her face. "Or, vice versa. Both however..."

"I play fair and anyone can claim leadership if they think they are fit, but as I said, you don't force people to follow you, you inspire them to do so. Go around the village and bring to me by the end of the week all the people who are willing to follow you in a raid. I'll do the same, because I intend to do exactly as you do and shove my feet so deep inside the Greenfeather's chief's ass that I'll have to take his boots back home since mine will never see the light of day again."

"The one with the most people willing to follow them shall lead this raid. If its you, I'll lead my men into battle but I'll follow your battle plan. If its me... you will be my lieutenant. I'll listen to your ideas but I'll have the final word. You'll follow my orders, but you will also have to improvise while in the battle and lead your group to victory."

"If I'm satisfied, I would wish to take you with me back to Stormpeak. I intend to make my moon quarters there to excavate an old tunnel and try to find more hidden Dwarf relics. As I'm sure this will involve a lot of free time while people dig, I would teach you what I know."

"And finally, if I am still satisfied and find that you'd indeed make a good leader... Well. As soon as the snow melt and the sun rises once again, I officially announce that I plan on going on an adventure, to map out the valley, make sure we don't have bad surprises and discover a few interesting things perhaps. Fact remains I will not lead the raiders for that entire year. I do not intend to just hand over the commands to you, but if I think you have potential, I would vouch for you."

She sat back, waiting to maybe meet Odo later... and maybe Dunlad. Truth was, while she did placed some faith in Odo this was more of a political move. If he could motivate people into following him, then fine, his failure would be his own if things should go for the worst and this would be the end of that, maybe people would tell her she was too trusting but ultimately that would be them saying 'You shouldn't entrust command of the men to no one but yourself'. And if Odo proved to be actually good at this, well? He'd have to be grateful to her rather than anyone else, for doing what very little people would be willing to do and extend a hand to a warrior that had practically just had his first battle.

Eliz remembered with some amusement the hand to hand lesson an old warrior had given to her at some point. She hated it, she was weak and would get trashed all the time, which was why she was told that it was easier to use the strength of an enemy against him. And likewise now, if Odo wanted to challenge her leadership? She wouldn't force back, she'd just take his arm and propel him where he wanted to be for him to either fail or succeed. If some people wanted to force Odo in leadership at the head of the gallocmen, because Eliz had great suspicions Odo didn't make that decision alone, then she'd play along and prove herself the greater ally to him.

Titania was proud of her troop's performance during the battle. What was less pleasing was the losses they took and in particular the wounding of two council members. Titania herself had suffered little more than minor bruises during the battle. However even more displeasing was the botched raid that Eliz lead afterwards. Perhaps it was not a question of competency but the loss was hurtful all the same. Still there was nothing to be done for it now but learn and move on.

---

Titania sighed and pondered the Children of Mercy's offer. It would certainly be most beneficial to receive their services for free, but it would require them to let Greenfeather recover. They had already spent much fighting Greenfeather and it would be best to take care of them now, before they could become a further problem, because they would not take such a loss sitting down. "I must agree with Eliz on this matter. The Greenfeather's must have their attack returned, else we shall give them the bravado to attempt such an attack again as well give them time to recover from this battle. While we have also suffered losses I believe that if we push them now we shall have this problem dealt with before it becomes any worse." Doubtless someone would agree with Seoras and it would turn to a matter of dispute. They always did, that was the point of the council after all. But Titania couldn't justify the small price the Children asked for giving up the chance deal with this enemy here and now.

---

Titania viewed the boy critcally. He was young it was true, but that was not reason enough to exclude him. Eliz's speech more or less covered most of the points Titania would've brought up but she would still state her thoughts. "Eliz's test if fair and I have no quarrel with either the contest or the proposed result. I simply ask the two of you to keep your battle-lust sated by your common sense. Neither of you will do us any good if your attack on Greenfeather results in another failure like last time." She felt some amount of hesitance about bringing up the botched raid so soon but it would make her point all the stronger. They could ill-afford a hastily laid raid or fool-hardy attempts by a boy attempting to prove himself.

Maire Virtanen takes 20 goods, 7 thralls, and 5 kerns with her on a journey to Clan Vendari's territory in hopes of forming an alliance. Meanwhile, her supporters in the tula continue to encourage their kinsfolk to speak out against Eliz.

---

"More petals," Maire said as she swirled her warm bathwater around with one pale, chubby hand. Gwendolen, who was sitting nearby with a bowl of bright yellow starflower petals on her lap, nodded and put an additional handful of petals into the large stone basin. The sickeningly sweet smell filling the chamber intensified and Maire let out a contented sigh, closing her eyes and trying to relax. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she'd had a chance to collect her thoughts and consider recent events. Without a doubt, Clan Aonghus was struggling to survive in the Hidden Valley, and it was only a matter of time before the clansfolk started looking for someone to blame.

The thought made Maire frown and she shifted her considerable bulk into a more comfortable position in the tub, which caused several streams of scented water to dribble onto the wooden floor. Thankfully, the alchemist had created a solvent she called sciath that was specifically designed to repel water and prevent wood rot. She'd only managed to brew enough to give the floorboards of her home a single coat, though. Maybe it was time to start gathering the necessary ingredients to make more? Apart from rich food and fine clothes, Maire loved nothing more than improving her shack in ways both large and small.

Despite its small size, Maire had found a way to make the most of the hut several hardworking craftsmen had built for her shortly after the clan settled in its new home. The main room was large enough to hold a fire pit and everything anyone could possibly need as far as a kitchen and dining area were concerned. The craftsmen had even constructed an ingenious pulley system that raised a durable canvas flap built into the roof of the house, which ensured nobody suffocated when Maire used the fire pit. The urlandi woman didn't mind the smell of wood smoke, but she also understood the importance of taking the likes and dislikes of her guests into consideration. In addition, Maire's home had a sizable larder, a small chicken coop, and three well-maintained backrooms. One of these chambers contained the trapdoor that led down to her underground cellar, another had been converted into a bedroom, and the last one was just the right size to accommodate her granite wash basin. Maire's Mansion was bursting at the seam with her personal effects, not to mention countless treasures from Urland, but it was sufficient for now.

What was not sufficient, however, was Maire's response to Eliz's disrespectful and snide comments. The remark the scarred bitch had made about the Barrows and 'avenging our fallen following the previous little mistakes that had been made' was infuriating. True, the wording made no sense and reinforced Maire's belief that Eliz was a simpleton, but the sentiment was clear. Maire had made a mistake.

What made it worse was that Eliz wasn't wrong. The Barrows incident was a blight on Maire's otherwise pristine, if somewhat changeable, reputation. And then, like a gift from the Tuad Rithe themselves, Eliz's rash counterattack against Clan Greenfeather had failed spectacularly. Two gallocmen and two kerns had been sent to Camvor. Furthermore, the loss of seven horses was a bitter blow to Clan Aonghus' meager herds. In the wake of the vicious assault launched by Clans Nightfell and Greenfeather, Maire's supporters had gathered at her shack in hopes of receiving guidance. Many of them were concerned, wondering if those who praised Eliz for repelling the initial assault were right. Maybe Clan Aonghus needed to embrace savagery and bloody vengeance in order to prosper.

Maire grinned wickedly and swatted a starflower petal out of the tub as she recalled the rousing speech she'd given to her followers, encouraging them to open their eyes and see the temporary nature of Eliz's victory. Aided by dour Garrick Derval and bold Tristan Jory, the alchemist had persuaded her allies to put their faith in her vision for Clan Aonghus' future. One that didn't rely on violence and intimidation to solve their problems. One that unified the Hidden Valley's disparate clans into an unstoppable force with Clan Aonghus at the forefront. And one where Eliz Sala did not sit on the Council.

Her kerns, led by Garrick Derval and his three remaining sons, were already spreading whispers and rumors about the scarred warleader's eagerness to shed blood. Attacking Clan Greenfeather so soon after pushing back their daring raid had been pure lunacy, and the cost of Eliz's impatience had been high. In addition, word was spreading throughout the tula about the bloodthirsty mage's encounter with the undead near Stormpeak. The skeletal warriors had literally called her a dark child, someone who bore a terrible burden and was guilty of some unspeakable crime! This piece of delectable information was doing more damage to the raider's reputation than her ill-conceived counterattack.

Of course, Maire ensured nobody could point to her supporters and claim they were the ones spreading these tales. Instead of openly speaking against Eliz, they insinuated, suggested, and prodded, allowing the men and women of Clan Aonghus to reach their own conclusions. Regrettably, the warleader's popularity had increased somewhat due to her actions during the raid, but the murmurs of discontent were growing louder. Sneering, Maire glanced lazily back at Gwen and said, "More petals, my sweet daor."

Starflower petals, when placed in warm water, released a scent like honey mixed with cream and gave pale skin an unearthly shine. Considering how few men found a woman of Maire's size attractive, the alchemist knew putting in a little extra effort to make herself look good wouldn't go amiss. Running a hand through her wet hair as Gwen dumped the rest of the petals into the water, Maire sighed and thought about the choices Clan Aonghus now faced. The raid had been a calamitous affair, and the clan's gallocmen had suffered more than most. Now was the time for the tula to heal, to take stock of what needed to be done, and to look to its defenses. Otherwise, the clan would perish in his forsaken land without ever seeing the golden fields of Urland again.

As far as Eliz was concerned, however, Maire had another idea. Surprisingly, it was something her father, the late Fergus Virtanen, had taught her many years ago. One night, Maire had come home after spending the day picking starflowers and witchleaves with her mother. Her father had called out to her, slurring his words and sputtering like the drunkard he was, and demanded that she bring him another bottle of corn whiskey. She'd ignored him and gone into her small bedroom, hoping he was too drunk to get up and chastise her. He hadn't been. Thus began one of the longest and most violent beatings of Maire's young life. Eventually, she regained consciousness and found herself lying in a puddle of her own blood at her father's feet. Fergus had smiled down at her like a demon sent by the Dorca Rithe and said, "The worst insult you can inflict upon your enemy is to ignore them, little bird. If you ever ignore me again I will gut you like a fucking trout. I am the son of Caradoc the Wolfslayer and you will treat me with respect!"

Maire had never ignored her father again, and the memory of this horrific incident had actually inspired her. A change of tact was needed to combat her boorish rival.

In public, she would ignore the slights and taunts Eliz sent her way. Privately, however, she'd continue to encourage those who viewed her as their voice on the Council to speak to their kindred about how dangerous the mage was. The clan's safety and prosperity was more important than the pride of some thug with a burnt face. It would take a great deal of patience and self-control to endure the other woman's mockery, but Maire was willing to make that sacrifice. She was willing to make almost any sacrifice for the clan.

Chuckling and standing up, which caused rivulets of water to run down her bloated form, Maire said, "Gwen, fetch me a towel and bring Garrick Derval to the house. We have plans to discuss." The headstrong kern wasn't as charming and kind as poor Alban had been, but he'd lost a son during Eliz's failed counterattack. Garrick had always liked Maire, mostly because she occasionally gave him a free salve to help with his rockjoint, but now he despised Eliz.

Nothing like a common enemy to convince someone to give you their full support and trust.

---

Clan Aonghus was reeling from their losses during the raid. The number of gallocmen and kerns that had perished shocked most people, and many clansfolk blamed Eliz for the debacle. Disturbing rumors about her being a dark child continued to make the rounds throughout the tula. Eventually, a group of kerns, led by Cathair Doyle, declared they would never obey or work alongside a woman carrying such a curse. Some even called for Titania, Ardghal, or Seoras to replace Eliz as the clan's warleader. Others begged the Council to exile Eliz immediately. This led to a small riot at the center of the tula about a week after the raid. A dozen gallocmen, hearing the farmers and craftsmen insulting Eliz, lashed out and a fight ensued. Shockingly, Maire Virtanen, Garrick Derval, and Tristan Jory were instrumental in preventing any lives from being lost in the scuffle.

"Whatever differences of opinion we might have," Maire said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the grumbling of nearly two dozen angry men, "Eliz is a valued member of Clan Aonghus' Council! I refuse to allow her good name to be slandered in public like this. If you have a grievance with her then bring it before the Council. This senseless violence does us no good in these difficult times. We must be unified, not divided, if we are to avenge ourselves on those that attacked us." The rabble dispersed after this proclamation, and many spoke glowingly about how dedicated Maire was to ensuring the clan's prosperity.

Unbeknownst to most, however, Cathair and his comrades visited Maire's Mansion in the dead of night. He stood in the alchemist's doorway and asked her who would protect the clan from the dark child sitting on the Council. Was she willing to do whatever was necessary to keep Clan Aonghus safe? Maire promised she would and, for the first time since they'd known each other, the two shook hands. In one fell swoop, Maire Virtanen had gained the loyalty of a large number of the clan's kerns, though most were still loyal to Dunlad.

It was a promising start.

---

Clad in her green robes with the ruby blood droplets, Maire glanced from the Children of Mercy to Chief Serhiem, occasionally tapping the armrests of her chair as she waited for her turn to speak. This was not a hard decision for her. During her bath, she'd realized how much the clan had been struggling as of late. It felt like they were running from one disaster to the next like a chicken with its head cut off. This was the perfect opportunity for Clan Aonghus to recover from the tragedies of the past few seasons. Then and only then could those Greenfeather and Nightfell bastards be dealt with. The alchemist firmly believed if a clan wasn't willing to at least remain neutral with Clan Aonghus they needed to be dealt with. Permanently. Still, the tula needed time to recover from the raid before any aggressive action could be taken.

Inclining her head respectfully to Titania and the Dyvellan clerics, Maire said, "While I believe Clan Greenfeather should be...reprimanded for their unprovoked attack, we are in no condition to attack them anytime soon. Also, after discussing the matter with a few close friends, I plan to embark on a diplomatic journey to Clan Vendari's territory as soon as I am able. We need to secure alliances and train more warriors before risking the battlefield again. I feel that we should agree to lay down our weapons for the next two seasons in exchange for the Childrens' assistance. This time can be used to instruct new gallocmen in the ways of war, improve the tula's defenses, and create strong bonds with the other clans in the valley."

Looking at Eliz and smiling venomously, she said, "Clan Greenfeather is not going anywhere and neither are we. Not yet."

---

Initially, Maire fought against the urge to say something in response to Eliz's look and the implication she'd made. Then, realizing that Odo would make a formidable ally, she decided something needed to be said. "Please, Eliz," Maire said, her voice calm and slightly chiding, "at least make some attempt at tact. You are embarrassing yourself and this Council in front of Dunlad's son." Shaking her head like a mother worrying about a particularly stupid child, she said, "Now, Odo, the clan cannot afford to launch a raid on Clan Greenfeather's territory right now. We need to recover from this last raid and that disastrous counterattack. However, I have no doubt that you would be a great asset to our gallocmen."

Smiling warmly at the young clansman, the alchemist leaned forward and said, "Personally, I would like to see you and six kerns placed under the skilled tutelage of Councilwoman Titania and Fintan for the next two seasons. Once the time has come to avenge ourselves on Clan Greenfeather, you should be made second-in-command, leading your group of six warriors alongside our warleader. Whoever that might be. However, I believe your father should have the final say in this matter."

Maire looked meaningfully at Dunlad as she finished talking. If his son was building support among the gallocmen, and he was according to Tristan, then it would be worthwhile to give him warriors of his own to command. Odo could be the one to supplant the greatest threat to the clan's chances of returning to Urland.

---

Once the Council meeting ended, Maire sent Gwen to Serhiem with a hastily written letter. The document, written in Maire's flowing hand on a crisp sheet of white vellum, read, "Dear Serhiem, I will be heading west to meet with Clan Vendari's Council by the time you receive this message. I hope to secure an alliance with them and intend to ply them with gifts from our homeland. Perhaps we could share that meal I mentioned last season when I return? We have many important matters to discuss, and I want to tell you about some research I've been conducting as well. I trust in your abilities to see us safely through these difficult times, my chief, but please by careful. We need peace and healing now more than ever. I shall return to the tula as swiftly as the Tuad Rithe allow. Sincerely, Maire Virtanen." After the chief finished reading the letter, Gwen bowed low and raced back to Maire's empty house, which was being guarded by Garrick Derval and five other kerns. Whenever one of them had to leave to tend to their crops, another herdsman would take his place. And all of them were armed.

Evidently, the alchemist wasn't going to rely on Eliz's goodwill to keep her shack safe while she was gone.

As the vote went on, Eliz clenched her teeth... Even Serhiem... fine, if he wanted to go pass the rather unique opportunity of her having a debt to him, fine, fine! Still up, she raised her hand in the air but realized there was nothing she could say or do now. They were engaged toward the priests... and the vote had gone so crushingly against her. Her hand balled up in a fist which came down on the table.

She closed her eyes, this was worst than the defeat she had suffered earlier. Defeat? She had cut down twice and trice the number of Greenfeathers that she had lost! She raised her eyes, burning with rage toward Odo. "...You'll make a fine warrior..." Eliz then turned her back on him and the council, making her way out of the room. "Leader I cannot know..." Oh some people had leadership of course, but it wasn't everyone that had tactical acumen, and no one had hers.

That was however her curse, she was a positive genius when it came to warfare, but all it took as a little defeat to throw doubt at her abilities. Maire had been a failure as a leader the moment she tried to step up to the task but it wasn't a problem because she had no reputation as such to maintain, because people would expect her to fail.

Eliz pushed and shoved her way out until she met a bigger Kern, who did not bulge and looked down at her with visible anger. "What do you think you're doing? Move..." But move, he did not. Looking around, she noticed the gaze people were giving her. Would they? Right here in front of the council?" Instinctively she reached for her sword but she had none, she didn't even have armor because of that wound on her shoulder. "You heard the woman you dumb oaf, move!" It was Bedwyr and other Gallocmen. Not a face she'd thought to be happy to see anymore. Still, Fflur was nowhere to be seen. She knew where that leak came from, who had told people about the skeleton episode. "Are you ok?" Pulling her out of her thoughts of revenge there was Bedwyr who looked down to her with some concern.

Eliz shrugged it off and continued walking like there was nothing of concern. "Maybe that bow was cursed after all! Seems like I'm shortening for people not to see me anymore." No, it was the memory of the kern that shortened. Already they had forgotten about her earlier successes just because of one failed raid. Idiots, all of them.

"Eliz..." But her plans would come to fruition. Plus, she had one ace up her sleeve. "Eliz!" She stopped on the dry street and turned to Bedwyr. They were alone, the other Gallocmen had stayed behind to look at the kerns and make sure people didn't follow them. "Yes, I'm right here, no need to scream." Bedwyr sighed and crossed his arms. "What now?" She smiled, ignoring what had just happened, business had to be taken care of after all! "Oh, I have a little idea to deal with Greenfeather, one that won't even get me or the clan cursed if you can imagine, I will-"

"No, not that. Here." Eliz merely rolled her eyes, honestly, who the hell cared? "Opinions and like fire, if Maire likes to play with them so much she'll get burned. Plus what can happen? Me getting kicked out of the council? Exiled maybe?" She laughed it off. "Not as long as Serhiem is alive. He's smart enough that to see me become a bandit or worst still, a mercenary, would be a nightmare come true." Bedwyr looked at her and frowned, did she not get it?

"Aren't you supposed to be the smart one? What keeps that witch in check is that you're the warleader, that the Gallocmen will follow you. That's because they know you and trust you, for the most. But the kerns, not so much. You know that, but you must also know that before becoming Gallocmen, people are kerns... We've lost a lot of good people Eliz, and they'll get replaced by people who don't trust you. And I know you know what people are trying to do, find an alternative to you. And what then? And what about that idiotic exploration mission you're talking about?!"

Eliz sighed, her enthusiasm somewhat vanishing. "That is it. Its the damage control. Maire can insinuate as many things as she wants but if I'm not there, people won't care, they'll forget. As I said opinions rarely last over a season, much less a year. So I'll come back, bringing wondrous discoveries and pick up the slack. Oh sure, people will have been trained but there won't be another war leader, everyone on the council is too damn defensive. My bet is that no one will stand up to the task. And because of that, you, and the others, will still be there. A core of warriors who, lets face it, will be senior to all the rookies with no experience the others will have trained."

It was Bedwyr's turn to sigh and let his shoulder down. He would follow Eliz to the end of the earth and back, but he couldn't help but disagree with her on this. "You should stay and accept your defeat. Train more people, let them see that you care. If you just sweep in after a year and reap the benefits of others you know what people will think." She turned around and lamented. He was asking her to spend time with people! PEOPLE! Still Bedwyr continued. "It can work. Kerns are kerns and they don't like close combat, too dangerous. We have those dwarven bows and you said it yourself, its easy to use, you'll be able to train them faster and they'll be happy they don't have to get their hands dirty. Plus, they'll know you care, that you want people to fight without loses and so forth. They'll like you. If you're not up to it then just chose group leaders and never say a word to these idiots."

Eliz paced around for a while. It was actually a good idea. No matter what Maire did, Eliz could do something she couldn't: Lead by example. "...I'll think about it." Bedwyr winced, thinking this as a veiled refusal. "Eliz-" She raised a finger. "I'll think about it. Now just come with me, I have something important to do this season and you're needed." Bedwyr sighed. No way to change her mind about something. "What do you need me for?"

"Drinking... an important task of any more personal diplomatic negotiations." Bedwyr was about to go on and on about how 'Diplomacy' should never be in Eliz's vocabulary, but she would have none of it."

__________________________________

"AND that's the THING! What? Would you believe the greediest bastards of this gods forsaken valley would hire mercenaries to stay around and wait for something to happen? Would you think they'd train much people to do that?" Bedwyr wasn't sure he understood what Eliz was trying to do, but he sure enjoyed whatever she was doing. He took another swing of mead before laughing at... something, he wasn't sure what but others around him laughed so hey...

Others around him being Vendari clansmen. He had dreaded for the worst to happen when Eliz had told him her plan but thus far it had not been going too bad. No, she didn't go to the council to try and appeal to them for something, she had just come in as someone interested in buying horses, who just happened to be the commander of the forces that had sent the combined greenfeather and nightfell raid packing. A stay at the local tavern later and they had gathered a little audience to listen to their adventure and to listen to Eliz going on and on about Greenfeather, what little strength they had and the great many details of their weaknesses.

"I bet your next raid will be spectacular then!" Said one muscular man with multiple scars in good spirit. Eliz laughed and raised her flagon to that. "If only!" She lowered it and brought it to her lips, not taking any of its content in her mouth though. "Three dozen good warriors on horses..." She said, widely exaggerating the numbers. "And then bam, Dyvella's children of mercy walking through the front gate."

There was a collective 'awwwww!' in the room as everyone could guess where this was going. "Two whole seasons of mercy to the Greenfeathers, ancestors oblige... It pisses me off, I'm a Gallocman so its just one of the numerous things that can piss me off but... Eh, its kinda worst because of how easy it would have been to just waltz in, face a few Kerns and loot the place completely and be able to say 'We're the Valley's clan of rich guys now!'... But the gods didn't meant for that clan to be Aonghus, maybe someone else will take that prize."

And maybe someone else will deal the crippling blow Eliz was desperate to inflict on Greenfeather. It clicked in Bedwyr's hazy mind. It was why they were here talking to the common folk, to the warriors and maybe to some council members in the crowd but in no official manner. Vendari was a known clan of opportunists and Eliz was just handling one opportunity on a silver platter. "Well. Thank you all for your hospitality and for the look I was given at your horses, but I think my friend and I will go now. Its been fun. You'll hear of our council soon!"

_______________________________________

Eliz got up from her seat, this time before the council had began speaking of the order of business however. "Good day to you, fellow council members. As an order of business I'd like to add a suggestion, that is to have mandatory ranged weapon training for all kerns, men, women and child, able to use a dwarven bow on a single day of the week. This would not take the entire day, as we do not have enough bows and potential trainers yet, but we would separate people in groups. This would aim to provide the clan with a defensive option that would allow everyone to fight with little risk using a weapon requiring less training than others. Thank you for listening to this suggestion and I hope the vote will be favorable."

"The problem here is that we do not have enough Gallocemen currently to launch an effective raid on anyone! Titiana, Eliz, while I do appreciate your need to gain our honour back, I have to agree with the others and say we need to regain our manpower. We must improve our defenses so that raids do not end this way again. Thus, I accept the terms that these Children of Mercy have brought us, no raiding. As far as Odo goes, Eliz shall do what she suggests once we are permitted to raid once more. Meeting adjourned."

---

Serhiem was happy with the fact that he had reverse engineered the Dwarven Bow that Eliz had brought back, he had to thank the others for this. However, work had to be done to actually equipped the soldiers with these new weapons and so he, and the craftsmen who had helped him before, set to work to make thirty of these Crossbows, as they have been calling them. They would also need to make the ammunition, but that would be simpler to do.

The morning had hardly broken.

The boy—for he was, no matter what he attested, a boy yet—Odo, lay sprawled in bed, his wound wrapped in bandages dappled with dark red, eyes shut and dozing wistfully.

Feana was still abed, but Wenscel had risen to breakfast with Dunlad and assist him in overseeing the day’s work. Ever since he had been old enough to stand, Dunlad had brought the lad with him on his rounds, though at first it had scarcely piqued his interest. Now, however, he finally seemed to be taking to the learning. Such things, of course, took patience—it wasn’t as if a kern’s work offered as much prospect as that of a gallocman.

Odo had been the same way, in truth, and look where he was now. If anything, he only hoped to imbue his sons with an understanding of the gravity of their work. Doubtless it was lacking in amusement, but there was, at least in Dunlad’s mind, a certain quality, a certain satisfaction, in seeing a harvest to its completion. Watching the fruits ripen and burst, the wheat ache for the sun’s succor and die, the trees leaf and flame and wither…of course, Dunlad was no poet or philosoph, and he had never truly had a choice in it, but he thought there was a kind of simple beauty in the life of the farmer.

Did one truly need something more if one had the earth and the wind and the stars?

Oh, come off it.

He winced at his own thoughts. Perhaps his son had been right. Certainly it was what the gallocmen thought.

And it was with his son that his mind was occupied. As he slathered a steaming seedcake with maors and green onions, he was brought back to the bedlam of the raid.

Little good that it had done him, Dunlad had donned an old breastplate that Mochan had left, mounted his poor mare (who was obviously nonplussed by the chaos of screams and clashing iron) and hefted an old rusted polearm about, trying to cut a heroic figure to the kerns he had sworn to protect. In the end, they cowered behind their palisades—which he had helped to erect—and fortunately the fighting never came to them. They saw only the cool light of Ardghal’s spasming magics and arrows arcing through the sky, silhouetted by torch fire.

But they witnessed the aftermath. The fields of brutalized grain, the gutted homesteads reduced to cinders, the cracked and undulant walls, the dead (pin-cushioned with fletching, limbless, spangled and spread-eagled, silently mewling in the mud), and maybe worse, the living. Maire had her work cut out for her, to be sure. He wondered if he might give her manse a visit one of these days.

But when they brought his son to him on a litter, wincing and bleeding, notched blade still in hand, Dunlad had flown into a rage, cooled only by the palliatives of the gallocmen who, laughing, ensured him that Odo had surely been blessed by Urak’s might this night. Even Eliz, drenched in sweat, her demon’s face caked with blood, had silenced him with an acerbic remark speculating where his balls had run off to.

“It’s nothing, father,” Odo had said with a sangfroid air, “It’ll make a scar to tell tales on.”

“I suppose you’ll tell that tale to your mother,” Dunlad had shot back, but he already felt more the fool. He wondered how many scars his own body bore, though doubtless few of them were earned on the edge of a blade.

Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as they bore the litter away towards the Unhaire homestead. Feana, he thought, would likely come close to wretching. She had always had an abhorrence of blood. And she had, of course, worried herself over him—what parent in good conscience would not? But he was surprised when collected herself shortly after, especially considering the evening of ashes.

“Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, you oaf?” she said, softly, while dressing the wound.

He supposed so, in a manner of speaking at least. The wound was shallow, delivered by a Greenfeather spear to the upper thigh.
Maire had come later that evening, smelling of medicines and herself spattered here and there with gore.

“I hope you’ve not come out of your way,” Dunlad had warned, “We’ve made the lad up right proper, as you see, and no doubt there be others who need your help more’n him.”

But the alchemist had had none of it, and applied a compress of bitter herbs to the cut. The boy flinched with the pain of it, but Maire assured him that it’d do him good. They had shared a look of regard and recognition, Dunlad and she; it seemed that their allegiances grew stronger and stronger each season.

“You have my thanks,” he had offered, wearily; shortly after, he had lost himself in sleep.

Dunlad, however, was not exactly amused with his son’s conduct before the Council. He had, it seemed, proven himself a gallocman true. But, the leader of a raid? Pure folly, and Dunlad was glad that the lad had been put in his place even before he had stated his own mind.

Maire’s suggestion of training he could countenance, but Odo’s cavalier behavior was indicative of the typical fantasias of pubescence. After one battle, he thought himself invincible; who didn’t at that age?

But Dunlad recalled well the death of Ioen “The Aurochs”, a bull of a man, who wielded a two-handed broad axe, was purported to fell giants, and fought in the name of Clan Aonghus for countless seasons; he had been snuffed out in a cattle raid by a lone arrow delivered from the bow of a boy of twelve endeavoring to protect his herd. As a boy, Dunlad could scarce encompass Ioen’s ignominious end.

He scoffed, however, and knew that the boy would learn the name of humility, one day. He only hoped it wasn’t on the end of a spear.

At the very least, Serheim had called unequivocally for peace in the tula. Eliz’s sabre rattling had brought them to their present impasse; now, she’d have to sit tight. That was what Dunlad knew how to do best, though. These past few seasons had been ones full of strife for the clan—floods, fire, war, exile, and, he knew bitterly, very near famine.

The harvest had come close to ruin in the season of the floods, and last night’s raid had seen another field put to the torch. And although Dunlad had managed to salvage what he could, he was conscious of the fact that the snows would be hard on Clan Aonghus, weathered with bellies not nearly as full as they’d like to be.

That’s why the gods gave us mead.

He took a swig of the stuff, finished his seedcake, and rose stiffly.

“Come on now, Wenscel.”

The smoke from the cookfires trailed thinly across a trackless sky. It was a glorious morning, and the kerns were already bending at their work, their bright tunics glowing brilliantly in the sunlight. The pair mounted, the boy on his chestnut bay Yewlis and Dunlad on his mare Ianthe, and rode out to meet them.

---

Dunlad, in order to aid the training of the new gallocmen, offers his services in horsemanship.

“I’m no military man, of course, so don’t you come expecting sparring practice,” he cautioned, “But I think if there’s anything I was meant to do, well, it’s to ride.”

Later, away from earshot, he confided in the Chief.

“We’re raising up kerns. Eliz, Ardghal, and their ilk aren’t exactly known for their hospitality towards the smallfolk, and there’s many o’ them who’ve never ridden in their life. They’ll already be in their care—if you can call it that—to learn the sword-ways. Let me teach them to ride. It takes a certain touch, a patience, that I’m not certain the others can give, all respect due.”

@Mardox @Eklispe @Lauder @Lexicon @Wernher @babbysama @Jangel13

---

The Children of Mercy are incredibly grateful to Clan Aonghus, and they praise Chief Serheim's wisdom in seeing the advantage of peace. Odo, of course, is rather upset that he has been denied a chance to lead a raid at present, but seems mollified that he'll be allowed an opportunity to raise his own group of warriors when the time comes to raid the Greenfeathers - especially as there's a chance he may be in charge.

The Children of Mercy perform their miraculous works, using a combination of magic and medicinal remedies to heal the wounded and the sick. Everyone is made healhy within a week. Then, the Children of Mercy depart.

Word reaches Clan Aonghus that the Greenfeathers have received similar aid from the Children of Mercy. The gallocmen are annoyed at this noise, and some claim their battles have been for naught.

(Everyone in the clan is healed.)

---

These seasons of training have paid off. Though it has been a long effort, the clan's leaders have produced trained, capable gallocmen. Ardghal's and Titania's efforts, Dunlad's show of horsemanship, Fintan's help: these and other actions have produced a cadre of warriors to replace those lost in the recent raids.

While most of the old gallocmen are loyal to Eliz, these new gallocmen are more eager to fight for Ardghal and Titania than anyone else.

(@Eklispe @babbysama @Mardox

Success! Due to the clan's efforts, 8 gallocmen are trained.)

---

Producing the crossbows is not the easiest of efforts, and there is certainly some trial and error in the design. Serheim has to direct some of the process, but as the craftsmen already have a schematic the process requires only minimal oversight.

By the end of the season there are thirty of the weapons, more than enough to equip a group of fighting kerns or to give the hunters. The gallocmen are largely unwilling to forsake their traditional means of fighting save for a select few. This is because gallocmen are used to fighting in the melee, not standing back and firing from afar.

People will have to be trained in the use of these weapons still.

(@Lauder

The process costs 17 goods.)

---

Eliz and Maire go to the Vendari separately during the season. Eliz is the first to arrive, and while she is not able to convince the Vendari to go raiding, they are intrigued by her.

Maire seems to fair better, and manages to secure an alliance. In return, however, the Vendari request that Clan Aonghus lend some of their magic to the Vendari at the start of next year. It's not a pleasant price to have to pay, but the Alliance is secured.

(@Wernher @Lexicon

While Eliz fails to get the Vendari to go raiding this season - just barely - Maire succeeds in securing an Alliance. Clan Aonghus is expected to pay Clan Vendari 1 Magic in the future, though perhaps a new arrangement can be made?)

---

Seoras spends some time improving the spears he made before. They weren't masterpieces, and they won't ever be, but with a little extra work he manages to improve them enough that the clan might be able to field a few more kerns in the next battle on its turf.

---

Rising Ash

Rising Ash is the hottest part of the year, hands down. The heat is stifling, though it does not seem to scar the ground or bring drought. That much is a mercy.

Though other clans nearby are being raided, we are lucky enough to not be the target of any raids just yet. But everyone knows the Nightfell are still itching for a fight. And who knows: perhaps other neighbors may want to raid us. Preparing for that inevitability could be a wise decision.

Besides the members of the council, we have 724 clansmen and 86 thralls. We lost fifteen clansmen and gained seven more thralls. Three children were born. Six children have become adults.

• 301 of our clansmen are children.
• 19 of our clansmen are Gallocmen.
• 12 of our clansmen are Craftsmen.
• 15 of our clansmen are Hunters.

Our herds are rather average for our clan's size.

• We have 706 healthy cattle. We gained 6 cattle this season and gained 1 more.
• We have 988 sheep. We lost some sheep.
• We have a sparse 21 horses for use in raiding and war.
• We have some hounds to help our shepherds protect the flocks.

We have some wealth to our name.

• We have 112 goods for trade. Our crafters were somewhat productive, creating 6 goods last season, and we lost or used 17 goods. We acquired 7 more goods by other means.
• We have 3 Treasures:
  • Cloak of the Black Wolf: This cloak imparts on its wearer great skill in stealth, and it is useful when taken on adventures that require such skill. The legends warn, however, that wearing the cloak too much might make one become closer to the Black Wolf than one might like...
  • Dwarven Crossbow (Eliz): This strange weapon is a weird sort of bow, and surely it should be studied. It works off of strange mechanisms that let it be shot by a simple pull of the trigger. Reloading it is slow, but its striking power is impressive.
  • Dragonsteel Lamellar: Made by Ardghal and Titania, this suit of armor is a beauty to behold. It shines like gold beneath the sun, and at night it glows a ghostly, pale white. While whoever wears it will certainly not be able to hide their presence, they are an inspiration to their allies and incredibly difficult to harm.

We have sufficient food to see us through to harvest season.

We know the following blessings.

• Aire
  • Fertility - Our women will be more likely to have children.
  • Preservation - This will prevent our food stores from spoiling. (Active - Temple)
• Bodi
  • Long Watch - We are more likely to spot invaders. (Active - Temple)
  • Blessed Aim - Our hunters will produce greater quantities of meat.
• Dyvella
  
  • Cure - Heals the sick immediately, or protects us from illness if active.
• Lugibaid
  
  • Good Soil - The land is more fertile. (Active - Sacrifice)
• Urak
  
  • Hungry Earth - Makes our land more fertile as more people die on it.

The Gallocmen are disgruntled. The Kerns are content.

---

Dunlad is overseeing his fieldworkers one day when a kern named Carag approaches him for a private discussion. Carag... That would be the father of Fiona, the girl that was saved by the orc. Dunlad knows Fiona to be a very sweet girl, and he knows her family to be good, hardworking sorts. Her mother was once a thrall, but her father has lineage dating back to the earliest days of the clan.

But there's a certain urgency to the man's eyes. His hands shake. Carag seems to insist on speaking with Dunlad in private. So, the two return to Dunlad's home to discuss the matter away from prying eyes.

(@babbysama

Expect a PM.)

---

A representative from the Bodeci clan appears before the Council, leaning on her bow. She arrived bloody and with a strange, silvery arrow in her stomach. Only through Maire's speedy intervention was he saved. Along with her is a small entourage of warriors.

"My clan's ancient enemies, the Sidhe, have been giving us more trouble than we can handle alone." It is true that the Bodeci have fought the fey long and hard in the past. The fey are, in fact, one of the enemies they stood vigil against back in Urland. It is thankless work. The representative's expression softens, and looks perhaps a little desperate. "Long have our clans been allies, and so we ask you now for your aid. Please, help us."

The Bodeci, though certainly longtime friends of Clan Aonghus, have never needed help fighting the fey before. Things must be dire for them to seek us out.

There are multiple ways the clan could provide aid. A supply of goods, of food, or cattle might do the trick. Sacrificing to the gods in their name would certainly be useful as well. Sending warriors is also an option: Odo volunteers for this (of course he does), though perhaps he is thinking with loins; some of the women in this delegation are damned pretty, and they're huntresses and gallocwomen to boot.

It would be a breach of honor to refuse Clan Bodeci's request for help. Still, times are hard, and they are a distant clan that cannot easily protect us from raiders. Besides, fighting the Sidhe might mean angering them. Could this alliance be more trouble than it's worth?

(@Mardox @Eklispe @Lauder @Lexicon @Wernher @babbysama @Jangel13)

---

Wonderful news! While playing on our tula, some of our clan's children have found the end of a rainbow by a bubbling brook! This is a great sign, for they say finding the end of a rainbow is a sign of great fortune to come. Clan Aonghus must surely put this luck to good use!

How should we use this luck? If we pursue something in the name of that luck - whether it be a delegation of peace, a raid, an adventure, or even a prayer for magic - we surely will be more likely to succeed. All that is necessary is to decide what to do with this fortuitous sign.

(@Mardox @Eklispe @Lauder @Lexicon @Wernher @babbysama @Jangel13)

Seoras sighed a little as he got up that morning. He felt so much better now that those children of mercy helped heal them. Not being able to raid was a small price to pay to feel better after that battle. Another meeting was coming today and it only makes sense since they needed to try and keep the place going. Seoras went into the meeting and sat in his seat unfortunately those children of mercy couldn't cure Seoras long standing illness. He saw the others show up their long standing allies were asking for help needing support from the fey folk. While they couldn't go out to raid that didn't mean that they couldn't help others with their support. Now that Seoras got a taste of battle he felt like he needed to try his hand at battlefield strategy "If you will allow me I'd like to join them as they head back with some gallocmen. I would like to give strategic support and help them get out of the worst of their troubles." Seoras said hoping he would be allowed to go since he has never left the tribe before this would be a good experience for him.

Now they had to talk about what to do about the good fortune seeing the end of the rainbow. Seoras thought it would be best if someone went out exploring the area to find something they could use this good fortune to find something special. "I suggest that we use this good fortune to have one of our own go out and explore, we cant waste this boon and I think it would be put to better use finding something ancient with great power"

A Request for Help

Titania nodded, of course they would help, the question was merely how much they could do. "Sending warriors could be troublesome for both parties, we don't want to risk leaving ourselves exposed to raids. I suggest we send goods and offer a sacrifice for them, perhaps a small force if our chief deems it acceptable." She had stated her point, now it was for the others to discuss.

End of the Rainbow

"I agree with Seoras, this blessing should go towards an adventure. Perhaps we should use it to benefit an expedition to the Barrows? If not then a similar adventure should be undertaken." From what Titania had heard of the expedition to the Barrows it had been . . . A mistake, but it may be valuable to deal with it now, on the other hand sending troops there would divert from the clan defense, which can be detrimental if a major raid was launched. "If no one else has an interest in doing so, then I would be willing to explore or enter the Barrow's with the aid of this blessing." Secretly Titania was more eager for an outing than she stated, she'd been training troops for some time and the raid had been exciting, but Titania wanted to go exploring or adventuring for a bit. Still, the desire was selfish, so she would only take the chance if it proved itself readily available.