Chapter 1 - Change

Magan casually feeds them scraps from his plate as he continues his story. He makes little eye contact as he talks, the pain of talking about the past clear in his voice. But he does cast his eyes around to make sure nobody else in the bar is paying attention.  "I did not always live this rough savage lifestyle. I was born in a castle in Wessex, which is where I knew Coelred. My cousin is king there, though he is just a boy. My father runs the kingdom as regent and looked after me, my cousin and the sons of my aunt. All good and noble men whom I love deeply. "... He breaks off as one of the mastiffs puts its head in his face.  " Get down... " He forces his head under the table with one hand as he takes along drink of ale with the other. Clearly not wanting to continue but forcing himself on.  " Anyway, circumstances were I had to run away to prevent a tragedy. If I am spotted by my adopted brothers or any noblemen, chances are I will be either killed, captured or worse, returned to my father."  He let's out a bit of a grunt as one of the mastiffs over enthusiastically tugs on his boot.  " Guthric, what are you calling these things?. "

(Prior to leaving) In the pens, Guthric enters cautiously and bears his necklace of canine fangs. There's a palpable shift in the attitude of the hounds. Some back away with tails tucks, others stair silently with hair raising on their backs. Guthric steps to the middle of the kennel where all hounds' eyes are trained on the outlander. Peering around the group, Guthric passes his fetish before the snouts of each and rumbles a quiet, continuous growl over the crowd of hounds. After circling the group a few times, Guthric places the fang necklace back on his neck and walks out. A pair of mastiffs, one pure black, another with splashes of gray and white, "These will do. They've heard the call and want to follow The Great Wolf." At the inn, Guthric shoos his companions under the table and offers a few more silvers for meat scraps from the back. "I suppose names are for the best. Some in my clan have a dozen wolves and never named a single one." He stares under the table at his hound gnawing leg bones, "Something simple, I guess? Fang," he points to the all-black dog, "And Claw?" He points to the spotted. 

Magan nods. "Fine names." He addresses the rest of the group. "Perhaps we could push on? I would like for Isolde to have a chance to ride some of the way today." 

The group mounts back up and continues on their journey. The route takes them through three different villages over the course of the afternoon, but they keep moving. Branok points out that if they keep up the pace they can probably make Taunton before nightfall. Late that afternoon, as the party passes the Blackdown hills, dark clouds roll in once more, shrouding the landscape in dim light. The horses begin to snort and toss their heads and Guthric's hounds cower and slink about the wheels of the carriage.

Magan rides up front ahead of the party with Isolde, helping her control the horse and pointing out features of the land, edible plants and animal tracks. As the clouds roll in he frowns a little, remembering the last time the animals got frightened.  "Head into the carriage little one, take out your shield but do not be afraid." 

Ewen sniffs at the air. ”Could be a storm brewing.”  He leaves the rest of his statement open to allow the others to fill in whether he means a natural storm or one of the man-made variety. “Keep your eyes open, friends.”

Kara shifts out her axe an shield, testing them, for as much as the storm seemed everyday in these parts, last time the horses were upset it ended badly for the otherside. "But let us stay on guard and be safe. Theli, stay in the wagon with Branok. Magan, perhaps Isolde should move back with them. I can keep guard on them unless you think ill be better suited elsewhere"

"Stay outside, guard the left. Ewen take the right, Guthric the rear. I have the vanguard, let's keep moving, but carefully." 

As the little convoy rolls on ferocious sounds of yapping and baying can be heard off the road behind them.

"Like before Branok. Try to keep rolling if you can. Everybody, get ready for the demon hounds of Hel once more." 

Fang and Claw take position atbthe flanks of their leader. The unnatural air is confusing, causing them to bear teeth and fur, but tuck their tails. Guthric readies his shield and sword, keeping an eye on the direction of the strange noise. "What did happen last time?"

"The hounds of Hel came for us. We fought them off but the fight was hard, and we were greater in number."  Despite the obsurd nature of what Magan is suggesting, the seriousness of his voice is clear, though it is more of a man totally focused than one of fear. 

"Hounds, you say?" Guthric's hair stands on end and his teeth bare, keeping ready to lead the charge with hounds in tow.

The growls grow ever closer at the party's heels. They are loud and they are many. From the sound the beasts should be right behind them, but anyone who turns sees nothing on the road or in the brush.

Ewen recognizes that the rapidly brewing storm was not normal in its strength and speed. As he hears the yapping of hounds he draws his blade and begins to scan the area continually. "Magan, what of these hounds? Do they have any weaknesses of which you are aware? How many did you fight off last time?"

"Several set upon us in Dartmoor, they are strong but they bleed like any other beast. I hit them with my axe and they died, is that weakness enough for you? Perhaps the gods are testing us, making us strong that we are ready to face the challenge of this false god. Stand firm, and stay close together that you do not get surrounded and cut off from support. Branok keep the carriage driving forwards, I shall pick out the path so that the terrain does not slow us down, and perhaps we shall outrun them yet."

Ewen recalls tales of black hounds of Hel that move invisibly through the shadows, always on the hunt. In gloomy places where the veil between Hel and the waking world is thinnest, they can cross over into the dark realms of the world.

Ewen glances back once more towards the sounds of the unnatural beasts as a tale he'd once heard comes to mind. His eyes widen as he realizes how dark it had become with the encroaching storm. "Light! We need light, immediately! These creatures can move invisibly through the shadows and can cross over into our realm where the veil is thin. Torches now! They are nearly upon us!"

Kara fumbles to get her new sword out, knowing that the last few times she has used it, it would produce light for her. She wasn't sure exactly how to make it function properly, but it was for sure better than nothing. She sent a quick prayer for their safety and victory to Freya, touching the sword to the symbol on the front of her shield. She then took up the position Magan had assigned her, though fighting from horseback was not her best area

The barking grows louder still, its source indeterminate - sometimes echoing from the hilltops, sometimes from the bushes and trees lining the track, sometimes emanating as if from deep beneath the party's feet. It heightens in pitch, taking on an excited tone, as though the unseen hounds know their quarry is near. In the dim twilight, the ancient hedgerows lining the path seem to writhe with shadows. The barking grows nearer and more distinct, taking on an even higher, more frantic pitch. There can be no doubt now - it is getting closer and closer, gowing in pitch as it does. The echoes die away, until there can be no doubt that the sound is coming from the road behind the party. A slight gap in the hedge, about 20 yards back, starts to rustle and shake. Some giant creature is frantically forcing its way through the barrier. The rustling grows more violent, and more violent still, until suddenly... Snap! Something in the hedge gives way, and the source of the barking, wild-eyed and shaggy tumbles onto the road. It appears to be a single, small dog. Evidently not expecting the branches to give way so suddenly, it falls head over heels as it shoots out onto the road. Picking itself up, it looks back at the hedge it emerged from - which is still shaking and rustling violently - with a slightly betrayed look, before spotting the wagon. It freezes, one paw raised and the tip of its tail waving very slightly, hopeful yet unsure. The silence hangs in the still evening air for a moment, before there is a terrific cracking sound as the rest of the hedge gives way and a huge, humanoid figure stumbles out. This seems to be the sign the dog was waiting for, and the small creature suddenly rushes towards the carriage and its defenders, legs ablur. The giant figure looks around, trying to get its bearings, before spotting the charging dog. " PEN! DEWCH YMA!" calls the figure. The dog screeches to a halt - apparently less because of the cry, and more because of the sight of Fang and Claw. It backs off slightly, growling. The huge man brushes twigs and leaves off his cloak, and squints towards the wagon. "Magan!" he calls in Gawen's voice. "That you?"

Magan, eyes keen on the road ahead, stiffens at the sound of the noises coming from behind but trusts on his companions to keep watch and call out. At Gawen's voice he holds up his arm in a gesture for Branok to stop the wagon. He wheels Ealing around the wagon. The surprise is apparent on his face, but there is soon a broad grin to replace it.  "Gawen!"  He gestures for the others to lower their weapons.  "Where have you been? I feared the worst. Do you have Felix with you?"  He looks around into the bush Gawen emerged from. 

Squinting through the twilight, Gawen breaths a sigh of relief at the sound of Magan's voice - the wagon had looked familiar, and he'd thought he'd recognised Kara, but he didn't recognise the others. He walks towards the wagon, keeping a wary eye on the two strange dogs. "Felix? No, not since... not since the mead-hall. He's not with you? What about Theli, Isolde, Coelred, Branok? And who are your new companions?" He draws level with Pen, the small dog still growling at Guthric's mastiffs, and halts.

"Aside from Coelred we are all here, they are in the wagon. We heard Pen barking and feared we were under attack from the hounds once more. This is Ewen and Guthric. After the mead hall we woke up on a boat, they were with us. Kara picked up a sword hilt from the lake, and we killed the pirates for the cartwright, Coelred was severely injured so he went back to the castle to recover. We looked for you but could not find you. Where did you go? "  Magan is clearly happy to see Gawen, smiling more than he has for many days. 

Even with weapons sheathed and tension lifted, Guthric's hounds were still on edge until their master came down to their level and held them close, "Seems you and I have something to talk over." Guthric glares across the small gap at this strange man. After a moment when he feels a bit of hostility fade, he draws the wolf-fang necklace and lets it hangs for the hounds and Gawen to see, "My people are packmates to The Great Wolf and it's pups. We are friends here."

"Where did I go..." Gawen seems momentarily unsure of himself. His memories of the time since the mead-hall are strangely elusive - golden-hued fragments that slip just out of reach whenever he focuses on them. "I remember the ritual. We made merry, and the merriment led to sleep... after that, it's hard to recall, like a dream. I remember... I saw the creature that haunted Theli. And I think... I think she's safe from it now. And after that, I wandered... for some time. Until we found the Straight Path back there." He gestures roughly up the hill past the hedge he had emerged from - no path can be seen. Neither, for that matter, can the sizeable hole he had made barging through the hedge. " I think Pen caught your scent. He was excited, I followed him for a while. And the Path led us here." Gawen looks around for a recognisable landmark. "Speaking of which... where is here? And how long ago was the mead-hall?"

"2 nights and most of a day have passed since then. " Magan looks slightly concerned. "We are on the road again, only a days ride from where we left you. I cannot tell you how glad I am at your return. I will tell you all the details of what has transpired as we ride." Being one horse short again, Magan will ride with Gawen and Isolde will stay in the wagon a while. Magan will fill Gawen in on all of the events up to and including the confession of his heritage in the inn at lunchtime. As the day continues people can rotate staying in the wagon, and give the horses a break in turns too. Magan will stay out though to ensure he can forage and pick good paths and prevent the party from getting lost. 

The dark clouds persist and soon it is pouring with rain. Those riding are thoroughly soaked by the time they arrive in the small town of Taunton three hours later. The sun is hanging low in the sky and there is unlikely to be more than an hour of light left. The first inn the carriage passes is the Stonegallows on the outskirts, although there are undoubtedly more closer to the town centre.

"I prefer to be in the outskirts, but perhaps on the other side though to avoid attention from any unwanted tail, it will not be much further." Magan looks sympathetically at the wet and tired faces, but forces them onwards. 

Kara looks at Gawen and humpfhs to herself after settling her shield and fancy new sword back into place. "Just like a man to wander around lost. He probably never even thought to ask for directions."  However, she did seem happy he was back. It took all shapes to make a raiding band, and having people who have slain hellhounds make it even easier. Though thinking back to Pen and those hounds, she was starting to wish she had grabbed some of their parts for trophies. Once making town, it was clear Magan wished to push them on.  "Magan, perhaps not the complete otherside. Not all have moved as we have remember?"  She didn't mind herself the continuing, but pushing so many onwards for just a few more feet didn't seem to make much sense

"Where do you think Arthek will look for us Kara? It took Felix's keen eyes to see his associate lurking in the shadows before. I prefer they do not catch us in our sleep at the first place they look. We will find a nicer place in an equally quiet location."

Guthric gives a triumphant chuckle, "Always trust a hunter's nose. If there's trouble, I'm sure Fang, Claw, and Pen will sniff it out."

"If there's any food cooking wherever we stop, I wouldn't count on Pen not to sniff it out rather than any foes," says Gawen. The dog in question was asleep next to Isolde in the wagon, having evidently decided that a comfy lap was preferable to stalking through the rain. "Magan speaks sense - there's no harm in carrying on for a short while, and if it makes for a harder job for anyone following us, so much the better."

The carriage rolls onwards into town, the horse's hooves squelching in the muddy sludge the passes for a road. Near the heart of town they pass two inns - the Skewer House and The Plough , but Magan keeps pushing and the groups rides on by. On the trail north-east out of town they finally pass one, last establishment, the Brewer's Fayre . It's a rather more run down building with a dilapidated look to it, but light does shine from the inside.

"Anybody pass through here before? Last time I slept in the forest, I hear this place can be a little rough but sells good beer. We have no choice now though, we rest here for the night. " Magan looks around for a stable boy and heads inside to enquire about rooms. If successful he will try to take Isolde upstairs quickly and quietly and keep Theli close to avoid any unsavoury attention. 

Kara shakes her head, muttering about a few feet making no matter. However, Magan did have more experience in these lands than her, and on the plus side, she had a sword to figure out. Sure it felt nice in her hands, but something wasnt right. Like when she wore a ring and held a sword made for her, it changed how you gripped it. "Magan, how much longer are we from our final stop? A few more months north you say?"  To Magan it was clear she was giving a false lenght of time, but to anyone casually listening in, it would seem they were going north.

Magan finds the stable boy sleeping in the hay loft. The stable is leaky, but adequate and under Branok's supervision the young man brings the horse's under cover. Inside the inn is as dark and dingy as the weather outside, but it is dry. Three of the tables are occupied by small cliques of dark haired men who murmur amongst each other and watch the newcomers warily. Nevertheless, the barman confirms that there are two rooms available on the first floor.

"Perhaps longer."  Magan plays along with Kara's ruse as they enter the inn. He thanks the barman and pays for the rooms before ushering Isolde and Theli upstairs. 

Guthric enters with a mix of confidence and ignorance as Fang and Claw plod along behind him. The mastiffs lay to the sides of their leader who orders a plate of fatty scraps and a thick bone for each.

"Well then, perhaps we shall rest here for a few days. Why not take our time meandering north. You are the expert here." Kara watches them go up, but stays down for a minute with the guys. After hashing out more details about how long to stay, she would then venture upstairs to the room with Isolde and Theli, joining them in relaxing somewhat, though she did keep trying to figure out the weird sword, for now she looks at it, it didn't seem to be able to do much.

Gawen places a few coins on the bar in exchange for a welcome mug of ale and some food - he's not entirely sure when he last ate - and joins Guthric. "I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself earlier - I'm a Druid from Glywysing, to the North of here," he says, downing a mouthful of ale. "As well as being the reason we're heading East - how much of that has Magan told you?" He looks appraisingly at the bearded man and his dogs, remembering what Guthric had said back on the road. "Did you say the Great Wolf? I've heard that term before, in stories of the bleidd-ddyn . Worshipped by tribes across the Môr Iwerddon . Though I'll not lie, the tales are not perhaps ones you'd find flattering - the sort designed to scare children, or be told on a dark night around a fire."

Throughout the journey with Theli and on the open road, Ewen has maintained his disguise as a handsome, bearded fellow and especially with the newly arrived, Gawen. Ewen watches his mannerisms and listens to his words, trying to read if he is a possible threat or no. When he speaks of the stories of The Great Wolf, Ewen pipes up from his mug. "Such superstitions are best heeded only with a grain and wisdom. The witless will allow them to corrupt them to all that is different and set them upon a path of destruction to all that is considered 'queer' in their minds. What sort of man are you, Gawen? You do not seem to me that kind who would hunt those that are different. Or have I misjudged you?"

Magan takes some food and ale directly upstairs to sit with Isolde and Theli. He makes small talk over dinner about the areas they are travelling to and the lands of Wessex where they travel next. He is still a little awkward and embarrassed talking to Theli, but eventually manages to ask where where she comes from and what she had been doing before she got into the mess with the Leprechauns. 

Up in her room, Kara turns the bladeless hilt over in her hands, inspecting it. As she tightens her hand around the grip she can make out distant whispers on the edge of her hearing and a familiar tingling begins in her palm. Sváfa  the voice whispers again, closer this time, and Kara feels another name on the tip of her tongue, as though her mouth is trying to move one its own. Helgi it wills her to say.

"No..." Guthric rumbles as he leans across the table, "You are not that type. You've heard of the Great Wolf, then? Heard the stories of how he prowls the night, looking for children to snatch away?" Fang rests a massive head on Guthric's leg, as though hearing a wonderful story, "Did they also tell you about the Wolf's followers? About how those closes to Him can split their minds and run with His pack?" The man splits a wide grin, his teeth seeming more slender than an average man's, "You know that not all things are as they seem in this world."

While looking over the sword, Kara tries her best to not laugh at Magan. Their normally smooth and confident leader seems to have a light head around Theli. Though as much as she wanted to, she would save her teasing for a more appropriate place. As she is trying her best to not interrupt, she swears the sword called her  Sváfa, but she frowns. That didnt seem right, and the more she ran the name over in her head, another one crept in, Helgi. She wonders for a second then softly calls to the sword "Helgi." As though she was naming it so

The blade flares to life in Kara's hand. It feels like she's holding a lightning bolt and the radiant light fills her small room at the inn. In the other room, Theli is vague on what exactly she used to do for a living. She claims to be from Illfyfelcumb , a town about fifty miles north-west of Taunton. Her father owned a ship and traded across Môr Hafren with the Welsh and the Irish.

Gawen nods in agreement, mouth full of food. He chews for a second before swallowing and replying to Guthric, "Aye, it seems that these are strange times, and much that I'd once have relegated to folk tales or lost ages past seems to be alive and well. So as Ewan here says, we must keep our wits about us, and not fall prey to superstitions grown twisted by time and distance. If you have your own stories of the Great Wolf, I'd gladly hear them - one of the meanings of derwydd is 'lorekeeper'." Seeing the two mastiffs looking hopefully at Guthric, Gawen pulls a piece of meat from his plate and offers it to Claw. "And what of you, Ewan?" he asks, looking at the bearded man across from him. "How did your own tale lead you here?"

Claw happily takes the bit of meat while Fang sniffs at it from under Guthric's seat, "Stories must be shared, friend; it seems we all need to hear each others'. But for now we are still just meeting. Yes, please tell us of yourself, Ewan."

Kara grins wildly and says Helgi a few times, trying out the new sword and swinging it back and forth, getting the feel of it. Afterwards she would then settle in for the night, excited for the first testing of her new sword.

As the evening settles in, Magan continues to idly chat with Theli, watching with amusement as Kara plays with her sword, now seemingly immune to the shock and wonder of out of the ordinary occurances around the woman. As everybody gets ready to sleep, he sits himself by the door.  "I will stay a while and keep watch, with your permission? I do not trust the people here to be honest in their actions and would prefer not to risk being unaware next door." He props himself back to the door and settles in for the night wrapped in his bed roll. He takes out his sword from its roll and cleans and polishes the blade as he watches silently as the others fall asleep.