Chapter 1 - Change

Ewen walks over to the carpenter with an easy confidence. "My goodsir, my companions and I are looking to depart quite soon; we would very much appreciate you looking into this sooner than later. Perhaps you could begin contacting your people while we standby, I am sure we could ensure you receive compensation for your efforts."

The carpenter frowns at Ewen for a moment, but then hesitates again, clearly reluctant to risk losing out. "My friends," he begins, "an' please, call me Bradwin. It is late. I must be closin' shop and most of town will be 'avin' supper. I 'ave friends, acquaintances I can speak to, but likely over the course of the evenin'. Over a cup of ale per'aps. I promise I will see you first thing in the mornin', but for tha' I must go now an' make arrangements. Any faster than tha' just isn't possible."

Magan nods.  "Very well. We shall spend the night aboard and set off in the morning. Bradwin shall receive 1 coin in 20 as fee for mediating the sale if that is agreeable to everyone? " 

Ewen looks over the carpenter once then turns to Magan and nods. "That is agreeable to me. Perhaps you could point us in the direction of food and drink for the night, Bradwin?"

"Don't worry Ewen. We have supplies enough, and there is a tavern on the waterfront if you seek a drink."  Magan leads the way back to the ship to set up camp with Isolde in the captains quarters. The fight being so close to her worried him and he begins her training again in the evening. Using the rocking of the boat as an opportunity for balance exercises and dodging and parrying techniques, focusing on footwork as he remembered being taught fencing back in the castle a lifetime ago. 

Ewen shrugs and nods. "Then let us retire for the eve. On the 'morrow, then Bradwin. We look forward to this meeting." Once back at the ship, Ewen will spend sometime with the others eating and drinking. And once alone, he drops the magical facade while unbuckling his sword belt as he gently sets the sword against the wall. He draws the blade as he sits, laying it across his thighs, and stares at it for a time before speaking. "Well, my friend, we may have found somewhere safe for a time. They are a hard folk, but I feel they can be trusted. What say you? Do we stick around and see the fruits of the labor or should we cut out now?" He focuses upon the runes etched into the beautiful weapon, his fingers absently trace the filigree along the wooden handle. 'We wait. You did well, the ravens feasted. Reward now.' Ewen nods absently as he draws the seax from his belt and stares at the edge for a moment before cutting into the meat of his right thumb just enough to draw blood. He runs his thumb down the runes, coating them in his blood and watches as the thick liquid fills into the grooves. He wraps the small wound tightly to staunch the blood. He takes a mummified raven's claw from his backpack and holds it in one hand as he places his other over the bloodied runes in his blade. He begins chanting in a strange, ancient-sounding language as his head lolls back and knocks against the wall behind him as the words slowly fade into a throaty hum... Ewen's eyes open and he finds himself standing before an ancient, towering oak tree whose boughs stretch out... out... He kneels before the gnarled bark of the trunk into the moist, mossy ground spread out before him. " Toirneoir..." he whispers reverently. Sometime before the dawn, Ewen's eyes open and he finds himself still seated upon the floor with his head resting against the wall behind. There is a stiffness in his muscles and a soreness in his throat that begs for refreshment. Looks down at the blade across his thigh and scratches the dried blood away to reveal the, now slightly glowing, runes beneath. He cleans and oils the blade before attending to his throat with a hefty draught from his waterskin as he stiffly gets to his feet. He walks out to watch the sun creep over the horizon...

Kara takes a few moments to pray and seek guidance from Freya on how to best continue the journey, and to help Magan out in the best way possible. After a good while at prayer she would then help out in the training of Isolde, knowing how a woman's reach is different from a mans

That night, dreams take Kara once more. She is riding across a countryside of rolling green hills. She follows a path before her and it carries her into the distance. She rides the length of a Saxon dyke, canters amongst the tombs of the heroes of old and trots on through an ancient woods. All the while, she can feel Freya at her side. Watching over her. Protecting her. Because she knows Kara will see the journey through. Because she has sworn it. Because she honours her promises. In her dream, Kara grasps for the sword hilt she found on the river bed and it flares to life. A solid blade of radiant light. It resonates with something within her and that light burns inside Kara also. Kara opens her eyes and they are ablaze with golden flame. She's back in her bunk on the boat and bolts upright. That same fire that surges within her punches its way out through her shoulder blades. It's excruciating at first. Not hot, but cold and sharp, searing through her back with the same high-pitched screech she and Felix heard on the docks not two days before. Then the pain is gone, leaving only shining radiant wings swaying behind her. They light the cabin bright as day.

Kara starts screams, thrashing about in her bunk as the wings coming out from her back, trying her best to stop the pain before she lands flat on her face on the floor, right when the pain stops. However, since none of that was quiet, and she now had additional weight she wasn't used to, she struggles to get herself in an upright position and fix herself before any of the men came bursting in, for she wasn't exactly dressed in more than a thin shift. Her second thought was that she had just overslept, as it was really bright in her room, despite her swearing she hadnt slept that long.

From his spot upon the deck of the ship watching the rising sun, Ewen jumps slightly at the sudden scream the erupts from Kara's quarters! He immediately begins rushing towards the door, realizing that he'd left his weapon in his own cabin with a curse. Just as this thought hits him, he hears the voice of Toirneoir. 'Call me and I will answer.' As he suddenly feels the familiar, comforting wooden handle in his hand just as he reaches Kara's door. He frowns briefly, not quite understanding, but he pushes those thoughts aside as he wrenches open the door and leads with the point of his sword. "Lady Kara?!" He immediately winces at the bright light and brings his hand up to block out some of the source to get a better look into the room. "What is happening? Are you okay?"

Branok isn't far behind Ewen and stares wide eyed at Kara as she crouches on one knee in her shift. Her head is bowed and the enormous shining wings fill the cramped cabin. The air feels thick like molasses, as though everybody is frozen in place, transfixed by the sight - and then it starts to fade. The brilliant radiance dims and the wings dissipate into golden dust that flows back towards Kara's shoulders and inside. She slumps to the ground from the strain it put on her system, but for all the pain and shock it was... exhilarating. Isolde pushes her way forwards between Branok's legs and wanders out towards Kara, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She smiles happily and places an affectionate hand on Kara's jaw. The pain and stress of the experience washes away and she feels Freya's peace fill her.

Ewen stares at the scene before him with a wry smile upon his lips. "This is definitely a group that deserves each other. I knew there was something about you, Lady Kara. I will keep your secret should you request it of me. Are you injured?" He takes a tentative step forward and searches her face for permission before taking another step.

While the others retired back to the ship for the night, Guthric felt a different urge and made his way across town. Stopping at an inn, he bought water, ale, bread, and dried meats before heading for the gate. Out in the countryside, he secured his belongings and started to run. Once out of sight of the gate, his stride opened wide and he began covering large bounds with each step. For a time, a primal hunger filled his senses. He closed his eyes and let his nose guide his feet. Hills and fields pass by in the fading light until darkness hung overhead. On a low hilltop, Guthric stopped, panting and wet from sweat. His limbs shook and threatened to give out, but a voice shouted in his mind to stand. The voice pushed and pushed until it overwhelmed the man's mind and he couldn't take anymore. Reeling back, he shouted to the sky as his ragged lungs fought against him. Finally opening his eyes since the end of his run, Guthric saw a nearly full moon staring down at him. The sight was so beautiful and he smiled wide before releasing another wild cry in the night. This time, his shout was answered by distant howls. This was what he came for. Drawing the meat and water, Guthric laid out the food and filled a bowl on the hillside as eyes appeared in the distance atbthe head of numerous shadows. After the spread was laid, he drew his weapons, but threw them to the ground. Axe, sword, dagger, shield, all tumbled down the grassy hill until only the unarmed man remained. "I am called Guthric!" He shouted to the animal shadows approaching, "My people are known to you, and I have brought their blessing!" Something told the crazed man that danger was as close as the offered food, but he could only smile and open his arms wide, "It is said the first among you to approach leads the rest. Bring yourself, so I may know your name!" Each shadow stood at the base of the hill, eyes shimmering in the night Who becomes to the Lord of Hunts and King of the Packs? The voice was terrifying as it crept up Guthric's spine. As he turned, the outlander could feel his face twist and his muscles stretch. It wasn't just his name that was being demanded, it was his very being. "I am touched by the wilds, and make my home among them. My people serve the Pack and call them blood-kin!" Before the shapeshifter loomed a gigantic shadow roughly the shape of a wolf, but standing as large as a house. You have proven youself a worthy hunter and packmate. I charge you to go into the world and do my will. Gather your own Pack and seek glory in the Great Hunt. As the morning sun broke over trees and far hills, Guthric awoke on the outskirts of a farm. He gathered his things and took stock: weapons and shield still there, pack and goods still there. When he looked through his food, though, all the meat and water was missing! In their place, a necklace of animal rested within. After closer inspection, they were clearly a predator's likely....a wolf's! The realization struck like thunder and Guthric shouted for joy. Running across the farm, he found he was only a few miles outside of town and hurried quickly back to the ship. Once aboard, he was confused to see everyone huddled around a half-naked Kara, but exclaimed, "The Great Wolf came in the night! He gave me his blessing and I must assemble a pack!" Turning to Branok, he grabbed the man intently, "Tell me! Are there wolves nearby? What about a huntsman or lord? Do you think they have hunting dogs?"

Guthric seems to snap Branok out of his reverie and he looks at the wild man in confusion as he utters his bizarre request. "Guthric... there you are... have you been drinking?"

Guthric's smile is wide as he laughs at Branok, "Yes, but that's not the point! I am called to assemble my own pack! It's a custom of my people to gather wolves as companions, and my time has come. Look here," he waves the wolf-tooth necklace around for everyone to see, "This is a blessing of The Great Wolf! You might think I got them from a wolf last night, right? Every tooth is the same. I spent an hour just walking back into town examining them. How could that be unless I felled a whole pack?"

Magan wakes with a headache. Something he is becoming accustomed to. Isolde is stirring in her sleep as he thinks through the troubling dreams he had. Kara's scream has him reaching for his weapons and he hurries for the door. He has always been fast, but the urgency of the scream suddenly has his feet moving faster than he is used to, he reaches the door so quick he collides into it as his feet turn over faster than expected,he falls through it and lies there in confusion for a moment before bringing himself back to his senses.He walks in to half hear Guthric's excited conversation with Branok but shuts it out, looking at Kara instead. "Kara, what is happening? I heard a scream, is someone here?" I hope that Theli's misfortune has not spread to us all.

Kara struggles to fix herself among the gathered men, the pain from her brief experience of wings fading under Isolde's gentle touch. However, she struggles to answer the questions asked of her, as she is unable herself to understand what happened. It was almost as if she was free to finally fulfill her calling, and then it suddenly left. It was as if someone had given her a gift and then snatched it away. She only wished she could get it again.  After a few moments, she answers those gathered, however she wasn't thinking enough to speak in anything other than Norse " I was having a great dream, then suddenly my back was on fire. And yet it was not fire, but pleasant to touch. But also hurt. It was if Freya had called me to come fight alongside her, but I am not used to having anything like that"

Branok moves to Kara's side and drapes a blanket around her shoulders. Of her travelling companions, he alone speaks her mother tongue. "Kara, I do not know what that was, but it should not be ignored. The next step on your journey was  Caer Odor , yes? There is a place close by, Wansdyke . There is much wisdom there. A gathering of those learned in the ways of the gods. You should speak with them. They can help you understand this sign."

Guthric takes Branok's shoulder, trying not to stare too obviously at Kara, "Do you suppose there's someone there who can interpret my dream?"

Branok turns to Guthric with sympathy. "I know less of the ways of your people Guthric, I am sorry. Gawen could probably have helped you here if a wolf spirit has appeared to you. You should seek out a druid. I've heard of a circle that dwells amongst the Mynyddhop . That should be on our way to Caer Odor ." The old holy man looks to Magan for confirmation of their next destination.

Magan nods.  "As soon as we settle business here we shall be going that way. Perhaps it would not hurt to stop again with the druids, though I hope to avoid another stay in a city."

The group slowly dissolves as the sudden shock passes and many return to bed. A few hours later they rise and breakfast until they are interrupted by Bradwin's voice calling from the quay. "Hello? Mr Aetheling? Miss Kara? Anybody?"

Magan leaps up. "Finally, something happening as it should." He moves swiftly to the edge of the boat to invite Bradwin aboard greeting him with a warm smile and a handshake. "Do you bring good news friend?"

Bradwin is accompanied by a tall, slim man with sharp, pointed features. He's dressed in a fine, colourful tunic and accompanied by a bodyguard, an aide of some sort and a couple of other servants with a wooden chest on a small cart. The carpenter returns Magan's handshake friendlily. "May I introduce Chesten Menhenick, an old drinking companion of mine and one of Caerwysg's shrewdest businessmen. I told him you were looking to sell these vessels in a hurry and he naturally saw the opportunity." Behind Bradwin, Chesten nods politely to Magan and anybody else who has come up on deck. "My employees will look over the ships, before I approve payment," he begins, "but assuming everything is as described I will gladly offer you a little over twenty two hundredweight in silver in exchange for both." His servants set down the cart carrying the chest and hurry aboard with Chesten's aide to begin their inspection.

Magan nods his consent for the men to board, standing stiffly by Chesten, trying not to look too much in a rush.

It takes the men about an hour to comb through both ships and once they are done the aide shares a few quiet words with his master. Chesten seems satisfied and nods in understanding. "Well, Mr. Aetheling. It would seem our business is completed. If you'd be so kind as to depart my ship, the silver is all yours." He gestures to the chest and the servants unlock it and throw it open. It is indeed full of a large quantity of silver. Chesten takes the key from them and hands it to Magan. "Safe travels, saxon."

This exchange was always strange, but now even more with something like a ship. How couldn't these people see that this man was insulting them while doing business? After all, who gives a chest that barely anyone can carry in exchange for the only way to carry it, and not include the cart that brought it?

Kara sniffs and shakes her head before countering "I am not sure how you all do business,  but your price is low friend."  While she had no idea the actual price, no one came to a deal an only offered what they brought. She knew from the mets she had attended the man was either giving too little, or had more to offer

Chesten looks at Kara with distaste. "This is my offer. Take it or leave it. I doubt you'll find anyone else in this town prepared to hand you such a sum after so short a time. Bradwin tells me you are in a hurry. I have come here for business, yes, but also as a favour. If you want to play games I can just as easily take my wealth and return home." He glances back at Magan. "A word of advice, learn to control your woman."

Magan inwardly sighs, but outwardly maintains a pleasant grin. I really wish he hadn't said that. "We should all stay polite here, let's not pretend anybody is doing anybody a favour, you stand to make a lot of money here, and as you say we prefer to have this concluded quickly. Kara, that is a lot of money, we can buy far more than anything we may need with it. Pray tell, what were you hoping for?"

Snorts at the man, knowing he was a fool. She does continue to address Magan as if the man hadn't spoken  "Well, when you bring a chest to trade, and do not leave the cart nor someone to help carry it, it means you serve Loki, for you plan to backstab the other party and ambush them. I am surprised you have not heard of that one. Why else would you bother taking the chest from the cart if you did not plan to leave without it? And then who has this much silver on hand? Would you really trust a man like this to not be a servant of Loki? Why does he not help his neighbors instead if he has so much?"

Chesten stares blankly at the loud foreign woman and blinks a couple of time as though he does not believe his eyes. Bradwin is also looking open mouthed at Kara, aghast at her insults. "I came here in good faith and do not need to stand here and be insulted so early in the morning," the merchant answers simply, indicating to his servants to close the chest and prepare.to leave with it. "Enjoy your boats."

Ewen comes to the meeting perhaps a little too late. He comes rushing up, gently imposing himself near the merchant. “Ah, hold a moment goodsir! If I might have a word with you and your men, privately.” He casts a look at the group to indicate he would smooth this over. Assuming the merchant does not continue walking away, Ewen will guide him over to the cart with the chest. “My friend, you must forgive my companions... they are simple folk and we have been on the open road much lately. We have been beset by murders and thieves so much that some of us seem to have forgotten what a decent business proposal would be. I know you are not a thief nor a trickster. You seem an good, honest man doing a large favor for strangers. I ask, nay I beg of you to see within that goodness to continue with this business. I will ensure to spread the word about the goodness of Chesten all over the lands. So, what say you, Chesten? Have we a deal?”

Chesten pauses as Ewen approaches him, before turning back to the man with a huff. "I see you do keep some civilised company after all," he sneers at Magan, flashing a superficial smile at the mysterious swordsman. "Shall we then?" He asks, gesturing to the gathered to group to leave the boat and take the chest with them. Branok hurries over the gangplank, shooing Isolde before him and beckons to Guthric to help him pull the cart over to the carriage. As he goes he shoots a look of warning at Kara.

Magan nods an apology to Chesten and gives a quiet smile of thanks to Ewen as he hurries Kara off the boat guiding her by the shoulders. His body between her and Chester so she cannot turn and make another comment. 

As they leave the boat, Magan notices Coelred dragging his leg, he looks pale and almost falls several times. Magan catches him as he is about to fall.  "It was good to see you again friend, but I think you need to rest, out journey will be perilous and I fear you are not well enough for the challenges that face us ahead. Let me return you to your castle."  Coelred nods his consent, clearly a little embarrassed. Magan leads the way back to the castle and bids the others wait outside. Inside, he visits the blacksmiths, with Coelred's introduction it is not difficult to arrange purchase of several horses and some supplies. He is about to leave, but stops a moment, a sudden thought striking him.  He returns to his companions and pulls Kara aside.  "I know losing the boat was difficult for you. I hope this will make the liss more palatable. I think I got the sizes right."  He climbs into the wagon beside Isolde.  "Hey little warrior. I bought you a new horse. I also got you some armour. Every warrior needs armour, you should wear it all the time."  He helps her pull the armour on, and takes her hand, leading her out to her new horse. 

Isolde is very excited by the new clothes and even a horse! She struts about the carriage sticking her chest out to show off her new outfit and fusses over the horse like a little baby. Her legs are a little too short to ride it properly, but with some adjusting of the length of the straps, she manages.

Amid the talks of trade and values, Guthric wandered the deck, watching the town's picturesque appearance. A twinge caught his ear in the air, and a wafting zephy carried a familiar wind. As the value of he ships was agreed upon, Guthric interrupted, "Does the king here - if that's what you call them - hunt? Does he bring dogs?" Confused, Chesten points toward the large, governing building at the heart of town, "The lord likely has hunting dogs. The woods nearby are good for sport and I've seen him leave once or twice with a retinue." "Good!" Guthric leaps past everyone, partly over the railing. There's a shout or two behind him, but he pays it little mind and only shouts back, "Bring the coin!" In minutes, he stands panting at the gateway of the keep with a pair of very confused and concerned guards standing before him. "Tell your master....I need to see his hounds..." Between his gasps, his sudden demand is even more disconcerting until he chokes out, "Tell him we have a chest of silver to offer!" The last request was enough to spur one man to step inside and shoo someone along. Minutes pass and Guthric regains part of his senses along with a few healthy pulls from a water bladder. A man in somewhat regal attire steps put to meet the savage-looking outlander. "You are the one looking to buy my lords hounds? You must understand he has a pack of mastiffs and would be loathe to sell them all." Guthric's eyes widened a moment, trying to take in this man, "A pack, you say, and within these walls? He must be a great lord! How many follow him? Do they call other packs when he leaves to hunt?" Senses returned and he waved the questions away, "Nevermind all that. I would only like to see his pack and speak with them. The Great Wolf's trail led me here." To see such a feral man, and armed so heavily, it was no surprise the steward allowed access, but insisted on a retinue of men-at-arms to follow. 

The 'castle' at the heart of the city is an ornate wooden palace seated atop Roman brickwork, the outer limits of which are moated and protected by a wooden palisade just as contemporary hill forts are. When Guthric first approaches the drawbridge the guards lower their spears towards him and men on the walls ready their bows. Surely such an uncouth savage would never be allowed within the castle walls? Heavily armed or otherwise, he approaches a walled keep housing a Lord of the Land. The right to enter is not granted to just anyone. However, once Magan and Coelred catch up the steward grows more congenial. Coelred is a known guest and the heir of a foreign king. His word is at least enough to get Guthric past the front gate, although he is required to surrender his weapons to the guards. Once inside, Coelred shows Magan to the smith and the groom. In the meanwhile, the steward brings Guthric quickly and quietly to the kennels. The dogs are kept by a stout, bald man with a thick red beard. He's reluctant to sell, but once silver is presented he becomes more amenable and is willing to part with two for the proper amount.

Kara follows them to the castle, or rather in her mind a defendable point that needed some more walls and other improvements. However, she was just following Guthric at this point, since he seemed to have some sort of business with the Jarl of these lands. Lucky it seemed the guards didn't challenge her having weapons, though she wasn't sure who to follow. She didn't really know Guthric enough to go with him, but Magan was talking about horses. She reluctantly followed Magan, keeping somewhat quiet.

Magan and Guthric's dealings are concluded relatively quickly and by 9 am the party is gathered about the carriage once more. Magan presents each of them with their new horses and the travellers make ready to ride for Caer Odor by way of Wansdyke . They ride as a convoy, three riders ahead of the carriage and three behind, and make their way along the north-eastern road until Caerwysg is left far behind them. Shortly after midday they arrive at the village of  Bradenese . "Shall we make a stop for lunch?" Branok asks. "Or would you rather push on?"

Magan looks around at the tired faces. The group now seemed far less used to riding all day than the one he had arrived with. Even Kara seemed to be flagging after her eventful night. He nods his consent to Branok.  "Very well. One hour to eat a hot meal. I do not know when we will have another opportunity." 

The local inn is the Broad Ash and is a fairly typical of a small village. The common room is low and dark, and littered with a few farmhands grabbing a drink with their lunch. A tall man with a thick red beard leans against an interior door watching the group as they enter. The smell of warm food wafts through the door from the back.

Magan gives a warm grin to the man. Putting some coins on the bar he gestures for some service.  "Good afternoon good people. My companions and I would welcome some food, if it isn't too much trouble." 

With a nod and a "yarp" the man disappears into the kitchen. It's not long before he returns with simple, but warm country food. Mutton and root vegetables for the most part, accompanied by some rough bread and washed down with local ale.

Kara sits with the other girls, even as she was obviously a fighter, she still was chatting with them about different ways to braid hair of all things. Certainly not the hardcore killing talk one would expect from someone with the armaments she carried

Theli's mood has lightened significantly since the day before. She hasn't had a bizarre, near-fatal accident in more than 24 hours and no longer seems to be the same dour misanthrope the group first met in the Fat Pig . Instead she chats happily with Kara, plays with little Isolde as they eat and occasionally tosses her hair at Magan with a smile.

Magan smiles trying to relax and enjoy the break, but he is worried about what follows them, worried about what lies ahead, and worried for his missing companions. For now though, it is enough to see those in front of him enjoying themselves. It brings him a measure of satisfaction to have kept those most vulnerable safe. He returns Theli's glances with his own shy smile, glad of some gentle affection. He blushes as he catches his mind wandering down less gentile avenues and gives a little cough to hide it.  "I thank you for not asking sooner, but now we are out of danger I feel perhaps it is time I give explanation of Coelred's outburst, especially as we travel eastwards it may place you all in danger." 

Guthric's mastiffs slobber affectionately over him and anyone else who'll have them. Isolde giggles gleefully as they try to beg her for scraps from the table.