Anarion

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Of course she's right that Giriel means to placate them! The dead deserve their rest. They deserve to be treated kindly. Do you think it a coincidence that the rituals to honor them also placate them? It is not by chance that the honored dead do not rise to inflict terror upon the living any more than it is by chance that a traveler greeted with a hot meal is likely to welcome it.

Giriel gives Uusha a look that is a little sad, a little wistful. It's not that she's wrong exactly. Red Wolf was powerful, dangerous, heroic, tempting. The thought brought the slightest blush to Giri's cheeks, but she remained steadfast. Defending the kingdoms didn't mean desecrating them! At least not for this sort of threat. It would be another thing if a gang of demons burst out of the forest and the dead were all you had to hand, or perhaps if some fool got it into their head to play at being a warlord with some dark artifact and the dead were needed to combat them. The point is, it's not that the idea is stupid, but the dead deserve more respect than this and raising them to attack regular soldiers who had no say in their position because of the grand games of politics wasn't the right thing to be doing.

Of course Peregrine wouldn't even worry about that point of ethics. For her, this was a proof of concept. If the dead could be summoned and directed effectively, that meant that witches had more tools in the world. Giriel was sure that Peregrine would point out that resentful energy was just as good a form of energy as any other type and the only thing preventing people from using it were old traditions, and that Peregrine could perfectly well tap this sort of thing without being corrupted or what have you. She might even be right (though one did have to be careful that the "darker" sort of magic didn't affect one's personality, demons in particular were known for trading in the abstract and that might include some modifications to your common sense or personal restraint).

Peregrine was a conversation to come though. For now, Giriel needed to serve soup and Uusha was the problem with that. She ought to know better, but it was clear the knight was desperate. Giriel let out a sigh. Peregrine may not think much of the traditions, but they did matter. Witches, or anyone who practiced proper magic, had the right to make offerings to the dead, it was part of the station, the title, along with similar rights for certain spiritual problems and entreating with gods. It came with a compact that practicing the Art would be used for good, not to cause terror and darkness but on behalf of a community to honor their ancestors, and bound Giriel to adherence to the traditions. Bringing it up now might set her at odds with Peregrine, and Uusha wouldn't take kindly to being forced, but...she couldn't just do nothing, not when she'd just gotten here. She needed time to talk with them.

Giriel ladles out her soup and stands, not breaking her stare with Uusha as she moves to set the bowl before the exit to the cemetery. "I have the right to do this" she said, walking past Uusha. "We swore that compact before the Sapphire Mother and all the little gods of the earth generations ago, before one of the great heralds of Heaven as witness." So she set out the food as her offering, and only then ladled a bowl for Uusha, and one for Peregrine, and for anyone else who asked until her pot ran down to the base.

[This post spent the second question on how to get Uusha to allow her to make her offering to the dead and placate them.]

Dark Age (playtest): The Lands of Pendragon

Robena

Do you see it? The moment when you strike the hart and it looks at you and accepts the blow? Your strike is clean, and your subsequent work to prepare the return admirable. There are, as ever, loyal dogs who bounce to your side, and nods from the master of the hunt who now quite clearly respects you. You demonstrate your skill, your experience, your talent for things big and small as no part of the deer goes to waste and the castle will eat well this eve.

The land around you is more alive than you remember as you go about your work. A few birds, those that do not fly for the winter, are up and about and make some noise. A snow rabbit hops by at a distance, wary of provoking the dogs, but curious despite herself. A little snow melts in the lazy afternoon and the nearby stream stirs with the noise of movement.

All Britain ever asked of you was to be a knight, Robena. Nothing more and, crucially, nothing less. Today, you lived up to the hunt, through your pain and the blackness that hung on your mind. Your reward is that Liana gazes on you with admiration. Why it might even be that she wants to be like you when she's older. Or at least like the you she saw today, the knight who hunted the hart.

What is it like, to be the subject of admiration as you make your return journey?

Constance, Tristan

The day is waning and Robena will be back soon. And now you see the true reason why the castellan of the house kept you company. "Unless much has gone poorly, I suspect the ladies will be returning today with venison" Sir Harold says as you finish arranging the many folds of your dress. "Would you or your men care to arrange the evening's festivities? I can have the castle's servants at your beck and call. Do not think any sort of pageantry beyond us. How would you receive your returning knight?"

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

“I come…” says Giriel, using the arm that was just a moment before patting Kayl to pull him backwards, dragging his knees along the ground so that he’s not in Uusha’s way “…to make soup.”

What else was there to do, hm? Peregrine was going to be starving when she was done, and there was no point interrupting her in a ritual like this. Best odds of that were something going horrifically wrong, and even if that were avoided, Peregrine would be livid. And what’s the point, from what Red Wolf said, the shades were already happening. Plus, Uusha was here and that meant there was a lot more happening than Giriel had known coming into this. Better to see the ritual, serve everyone a good meal, and then figure things out from there.

“Well, to make soup and to talk. I won’t hide that Red Wolf sent me, but I want to know why you’re doing all this before I decide what sort of magic to work.” As she speaks, she walks past Uusha and sets up at a nice spot under the shade of a tree with a wide gravestone that has a flat top where Giriel can put her things. She sets some stones (regular ones, not gravestones) in a circle for a fire and gatherers a few loose branches fallen from the tree and strikes a spark while she sets out her bowls and some travel things. The townsfolk may have been less than forthcoming when it came to these graves and whatever this ritual was, but they were still willing to sell a sack of potatoes and a bundle of carrots. Good, hearty, travel food. Add some water, some salt, a little sage, and boil them slowly so they softened and flavored the broth.

And, if it happened that Giriel had set herself up so that the wind would blow the scent of her cooking toward Peregrine and most of the gathered N’yari while she spoke with Uusha, that was a coincidence. And, if it happened that Giriel had a clear view line towards Peregrine’s music…well, that was just the layout of the cemetery. And if it happened that Giriel made a point of offering a bowl of soup to the spirits of the dead before serving the living, well, that was just polite.

[Giriel is looking to figure out Uusha (and the overall situation) from chatting while she cooks and observing what’s happening here. 4+4+2=10. Giriel gets two questions
1. What does Uusha hope to get from this ritual?
Reserving the second.]

Sunshards

“But I do want that!” Chen bursts out, then stops herself. “Well, I don’t know about pure-hearted. But like, I like being a prodigy and trying to do good and make the world nice and protect people who need it. I want that. But I don’t…I don’t think it’s that simple for me. Each of my moms has something they want me to be, and it’s a little different. Hestia wants me to be…um, I don’t know if I can do the archetype names as well as you did mine, but like, Hestia wants me to be disciplined, polite, to think about risks and stuff, you know like ‘proper and upright sword saint’ or something. And Ysel, I think she kind of wants me to be Qiu almost? Not exactly Qiu, but like, she wants me to help expand Ys, reward my vassals and punish my opponents until they submit. Like uh ‘strong tough bandit princess’ or something. They both were excited that I like swords and magic and want me to be good at the things I like, but it’s like…it’s through their visions.”

Chen stops and thinks about what she just said. “You know, it’s stupid. I’ve been the heir to two shards all my life, I’ve trained with both parents in how to move through sunshards. They said something like you did, that you have to fit yourself into other people’s stories and flow with them into the role you want with their shard’s magic, actually. But, um, anyway, I haven’t…I mean, in all that time I’ve always just thought about doing my thing, finishing whatever job they set me or stopping whatever problem. I don’t really know what I’d do when I actually get them. Like, pure-hearted prodigy isn’t a look or a power or anything, is it? It’s not something I’d do with a shard. I mean, the only thing I know I’d want is a tail and ears like Li, um my snow leopard, we’d look so cute together.”

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

“You know, I couldn’t tell you!” Giriel lets out a hearty laugh. Kayl deserved that and it was better to enjoy his antics than to let all the things that might worry her bring down the mood as they traveled. She was already a witch and having a hard time finding a guide, she didn’t need to add to the reputation of moody shadow-girls, even if she did like wearing all black.

“I mean, the mother of witches is already a legend. Most of us just learn from family or friends. It’s magic, but the learning process isn’t all that different from how you learned to herd sheep or sow up a torn poncho.” She offers Kayl a chuckle and a slap on the shoulder. “I don’t think the priestesses and I ought to be in competition though. I’d happily work with them, and they’d be fools trying to assign us witches penance instead of sharing wisdom. Half the time they come up here newly trained thinking they can conquer anything with the purity of their hearts and their strength of arm only to find themselves trussed up by the N’yari, if they’re lucky, or a hungry demon if they’re unlucky.”

Giriel gave Kayl a smile that was half friendly reassurance and half suggesting that she might enjoy seeing him trussed up and slung over a kitty’s shoulder.

Behind that smile, as he turned to lead her further along the mountain paths, she placed a hand upon the flute within her belt pouch. She wanted to have it close. It hurt her more that people who ought to know better would throw things and try to chase her off, but that could be fixed with time even if it dragged down her spirits. Demons though, demons were a problem and the boy’s description was too accurate by half. People didn’t usually know that tidbit about burning rocks. And if he really had seen demons, well, she’d have to do something about that. They couldn’t be left alone, they’d end up kidnapping and killing people, or corrupting things somehow. Things always got so weird with demons, they never seemed to want the same things and each one had some special aspect to it. And of course, there was a summoner around somewhere, even if they weren’t here right now.

This just felt so bad. N’yari were proud and aggressive, but Giriel didn’t know them to be sacrilegious like this. And with demons being around too, ugh. She worried these things were connected. Maybe they were deceived, being led wrong, or it was actually demons stirring up the dead and Red Wolf just didn’t know that and assumed it was the N’yari scuffling with her soldiers. That would be an easy mistake to make and would explain the symbolism in the tea leaves showing demonic activity. That felt too easy though. Giriel knew better when it came to the mystic arts than to assume that you had everything figured out. The omens gave you exactly what they gave you, and if you read into it and then assumed you could never be wrong, you were either a lucky fool or a dead fool.

So Giriel laughed and teased this fool shepherd boy who was too brave and cute to know he ought to be afraid, and at the same time she kept a hand on her flute and her wits about her as they wound their way up old mountain paths to the graves.

Dark Age (playtest): The Lands of Pendragon

Constance, Tristan

Sir Harold nods, blows his nose into a small kerchief, then nods again. "Lady I, it's not my place, but you...give us all hope. Hope that there will be more tomorrow, in spite of all we've done. In spite of..." He gestures vaguely with an arm. At the castle, the snow, the kingdom, the country. A country of oathbreakers, fearful of what it could be.

"I would that it had been different" he says after a pause. "If I were thirty years younger, I'd demand you grant me that king's blade of yours and I'd ride off to right our wrongs. As it is, it's not mine and never was meant to be. I'll be glad enough that I could offer you a clean castle and cloth enough to make your dress. Yes, that will be enough to leave me satisfied, whatever may come of all this."

He leans back and lets you, both of you, return to your work.

Tell us of the finished dress with its scales and its moltings. And of how it reassures you, of how you reassure each other as you prepare for Robena's return.

Robena
Despite your exhaustion and your stubborn horse, you hunt with endurance and bravery. Liana, for her part, pulls out a small golden harp, made to fit in the crook of her arm that she can set the reins and grasp the harp at once and pluck with her other hand, absurd as that may seem.

Where before there were trumpets and hounds braying, she offers a gentle yet persistent song that nevertheless drives the white hart before you once it presents itself, never allowing it to rest.

Hear now of our hero, on gallant horse riding
Our foreign foes felled, she returned to her land
Now hasped in her harness, though mendicant mottled
She rides to her ruin, knowing not where she goes

Her eyes are looking to you, Robena, and though she plays the role of pure maiden in this hunt, there is nevertheless a knowing in her eyes that says much of the preparations of these knights for your coming. Yet her eyes are wide, and worried, and fear that you will spurn her, and she sings on.

Our king came to Camelot, and thence took his throne
In war never wanting, he took him a wife and a child he sired
But bearing his blazon, all burnished and bright
He defied death and found it wanting

No new generation was near to his knights
He kept them from Camelot, drove them away
He feasted and fought, always fearsome with fury,
keeping the cold and calm away with ever grander building

the king his death did fear
so flung his youth away
He clung to visions dear
Of time held all at bay

She looks at you again and clears her throat. The hart skips behind a tree, the dogs are chasing in hot pursuit as forest leave rustles in sudden quiet. The hart cannot be allowed to rest. "You've perhaps heard that part or something like it from Constance, but you may not know the next" Liana says, striking another chord.

Perchance a prophecy came forth in which the king partook
When an heir to Excalibur emerged, his reign would end
Only a proper heir, pure and puissant,
chosen by the Lady of the Lake in her largesse

She looks again to you, Robena, and sighs.

Though cunningly wrought, the prophet's words,
Neither heir nor hero neared on the nonce
False friends followed a mad king fuming in her furor,
till death in dishonor did her doom declare

What hero cannot hear
the calling of the land?
A father that I fear
who holds his grave in hand

And in the chill of her song, the hart comes at least to bay, cornered by a small pool where it had hoped to drink and catch its breath but it is instead beset by you. Roll to take bold, decisive action and end this hunt.

Sunshards

Chen offers Jessic a thoughtful look and an actual giggle at the image of Qiu shouting “hewwo!” at people’s doors. It really did help her understand Qiu better, though she would need to tell the Princess that just asking for a duel was a better approach for Chen than all this pressure to force a fight with her at high stakes. Well, maybe. She was trying to figure out what made her want to fight, that was part of this conversation. It’s complicated!

When Jessic asks about the Princesses, Chen contemplates for a second, resting her chin on one hand and almost pouting. Then she starts ticking off fingers for the nine kingdoms as she goes through them aloud. “Pasalkhen: Qiu, I wanted to be friends, but I hurt her feelings and my moms aren’t cool with it, it’s a whole thing.
Terraced Lake: also Qiu right now. Ishan was friends my Mommy Ysel I think, but she’s more like an aunt to me, I don’t really know her that well and have no idea where she is now.
Sourcefall: Hestia’s my mom, so I mean, I guess she’s cool.” Chen stopped, chose not to laugh at her own pun, moved on. “I mean, Sourcefall is most of where I grew up after the hot and cold alliances split up, but it’s hard to say I’m friends with my own mom cuz it’s different.
Ys: same thing, I think Mommy Ysel tries to be more like friends than Hestia but she’s also really demanding and kinda scary.
Plains: Jezara is cool! Maybe I could say she’s my friend? We haven’t really hung out that much, but I text her cat pictures of my leopard sometimes. And uh, I really want to go visit her and turn into a cat, it sounds really fun.” She blushed at that one.
“Tesla Hive: I’ve only seen Kikil at formal visits and she’s kinda scary
Radiant Lands: Yin’s a vassal, but I kind of hate her. I mean, I know it’s mean of me, but but, she’s so over the top and she scares other people, and she cursed Hyra (the wolf that’s here with Yue) and really upset Rose! And when I defended my friends earlier she backed off, but I’m pretty sure Mommy is gonna be really mad at me for not siding with Yin, so it’s like extra double frustrating!
And, uh, Sky Castle is you and you seem cool but we didn’t really know each other before this.

So...uh, I guess I kinda hope to be friends with Jezara and you, and maybe Ishan. And I don’t know if I can really be friends with my moms but I want to like them and for them to like me even if I can’t beat up Qiu. And I want to be friends with Qiu but like, not in a way where she’s, like, expecting me to give her this big special fight with so much pressure where no matter what I disappoint her or my moms or all of them all at once!”

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Giriel takes in a sharp breath. That tooth. She...ah, can you imagine a bear wrestling with a dragon? The pinpricks of teeth like little needles pricking the skin. Giriel's strong arms and stronger thighs holding the Red Wolf firmly pinned, save for those merciless teeth?

Who could think about anything else in that moment? The sign of the demons banished from the mind. That they opposed a Hero of the Dominion made perfect sense and needed no further consideration. And if it did need further consideration, which it did not, wouldn't it be valuable to have someone nearby trained in the Art, able to see the signs of dark magic or hidden demons that might wish to trick, deceive, and manipulate?

As for the N'yari. They were just territorial, and this was the sort of problem that could be solved over a good bowl of spicy noodles and a few bottles of shochu. Of course, Red Wolf had a good explanation why the N'yari were picking on her forces, but Giriel was sure she could clear up the misunderstanding, that Red Wolf would be reasonable at the end of the day about the N'yari's space and the N'yari reasonable enough about raiding caravans. They wouldn't stop raiding them, but perhaps the dominion could come to understanding about how they'd raid and what was off limits. A fair way to test their skill and prowess. Okay, sure, Giriel was dreaming, the N'yari wouldn't accept being chained down (of course, exceptions notwithstanding) but they were fine in that space and she was sure she could get them to see that disturbing ghosts wasn't the way to have this fight with the Dominion and that would have to be good enough.

But anyway, the point was, those signs in the teacup weren't important and indicated no problems with Red Wolf that would get in the way of little teeth playing across Giriel's neck and some bone-cracking cuddles.

No, the problem as Giriel started to lose herself in thoughts of great soft beds, was the lifestyle. Giriel was a Witch, she couldn't be an equal partner to a Hero. It was written all over her. Even if she put on that gorgeous starlight dress, soft as the night sky, people would still know she was a witch. There was an aura of the otherworldly about her after so much practice, and she had no intention of dropping her work, her pleasure just wasn't nearly as important. So, of course, anything she could imagine, any games that Red Wolf was playing, it was obvious that she'd never really choose Giriel, never be more than a dalliance and a servant, no matter how skilled, strong, and respected. She just wasn't fit to be anything better than that and that was fine. It was fine. Giriel had come to terms with her status as a witch long ago and she didn't need to feel any feelings about it now. Or so she'd thought as her heart and her hands betrayed her in equal measure, as she shook in that warmth and her heart thumped and she found herself swearing by her grandmother's grave below the very mountain's roots to come back when her task was done.

[Giriel is smitten with Red Wolf, who gets a string for it. She will mark XP for swearing very seriously to come back.]

Sunshards

“I...uh” Chen stops short, unsure how to answer. None of the things she’s worried about have changed, but she’d also forgotten about all the things she did today. T-those weren’t princessy things anyway, right? She’d let herself get captured by Cyanis in exchange for a pretty dress that felt so nice to wear, which was totally below her station right? And she’d done nothing to rescue Rose yet. And she had entertained the Sky Castle at the expense of her own kingdoms, hadn’t she???

And yet...she was having fun. She’d been having fun all day and they had gotten to the sky castle exactly as planned. And...Qiu had chatted ahead for them to expect her and everything. Like...like she belonged at least a little.

“I guess...” Chen said. She blushed because Jessic was being so nice. She was giving Chen all this time to just think and asking such good questions. “I dunno. Like, this part was fun but...why are we even expected to fight over the shards? Why does Qiu want so many shards and my parents care so much about stopping her? I don’t know how to handle that part, I wanted to just, like, be friends with her.”

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Giriel blushes, almost hunching into herself. Of course, this request ought to have gone to Peregrine. What if she makes a mistake that brings down the armies of the dominion upon them? What if she sees the armies of the dominion falling upon them and it isn’t a mistake? What if she sees them kissing each other?!

N-nevertheless, she cannot refuse. That would be far worse, an unforgivable act of arrogance and insult to withhold her talents now and after such a compliment.

So, taking a deep breath, and telling herself inwardly “Giriel Bruinstead, you can do this” she takes the last drops of the tea and pours it into Cathak Agata’s cup. “Swirl” she says, making it happen by placing a large, gentle hand overtop Agata’s (she tries only to hold, not to brush any skin at all, though she is not so dexterous as to do this perfectly). She lifts the arm up above the head (such presumptuous behavior!) and swirls again, then slowly and carefully moves the Red Wolf to lower the cup, pouring out the tea slowly, drop by drop upon her saucer as she does.

When the last drop falls, Giri moves Agata to place the cup upon the table and only then does her hand release the other woman’s. The lingering warmth pulses through her and she has to resist the urge to flex her fingers and stare at them.

She glances then into the tea cup at the patterns of the leaves. They should form a sign: characters of a name, or perhaps symbols and elements. Patterns of water or fire for various sorts of disasters, trees for new life, heavenly symbols for good fortune, birds and paths for journeys, bones for illness, swords for violence, demons for misfortune (or meeting demons, which meant the same thing) and so forth.

[Divination: 5+1+2=8. Giri sees something interesting about what Red Wolf will face that she does not know. Red Wolf learns the truth and clears a condition.

Also, I apologize for the double roll, but I think this is an Entice as well, for which I have rolled an 11 (6+3+2).]