A report from the Orlmarthings who were there.
.
Fire Season 1618
Weeks before the tribal moot, Darsten Black Oak, a cousin of King Kangharl and reputed Lunar sorcerer, arrived in Old Man Village to proclaim that the king was suing our clan for the payment the Lunars made the tribe pay to the Lismelders as well as seeking Greater Outlawry for us.
We turned to our clan for support, which they gave, promising to show the king that the entire clan was prepared to fight for its rights. We then sought help elsewhere: from Greenstone Temple, from the Anmangarn clan (the Black Spears), from the Ernaldor clan (from where we get our goodwives), from the Arnoring clan (the Potters), from Minaryth Purple, and from Polgo and the friendly durulz of Duck Point.
News spreads like wildfire that General Fazzur Wideread has led the Lunar Army to conquer Heortland. Many thousands of soldiers from the two Lunar camps at Wilmskirk and Duck Point marched south in the greatest display of Imperial military might since the Conquest of Sartar. Within weeks, Volsaxiland is all but conquered; only the port city of Karse and the sacred fortress of Whitewall still hold out against Lunar siege.
Senulf the Blind asked permission to leave the tula and travel to Jonstown. Though his sight is healed, he insists on being called “the Blind” because, he says, “I have seen Her Mercy and everything else is blindness.”
gc.
Founder’s Day, Windsday, Stasis Week, Fire Season 1618
Dinestan and Desrik built a small shrine to Sartar on the stead.
.s.
The Tribal Moot, Fireday, Movement Week, Fire Season 1618
The day of the Law Court arrived. All the clans of the Colymar converged on Clearwine Fort. King Kangharl brought forth his jurors: an infamously greedy merchant, a scullery maid, and a Greydog lawspeaker. Our jurors were Asborn of the Black Spear, who came out of exile protected by the Juror’s Peace, Polgo Hoarfoot, and Orlgard Korlmarsson, our lawspeaker.
The Law Court was raucous, with the Taralings loudly demanding “the King’s justice” and our clan raising a wapentake in angry response. King Kangharl shrugged off the barbs and insults we flung at him, but one by one his allies were silenced or swayed, and the truth of our case - that the king had wickedly and cravenly abandoned Orlanth’s Law when seeking outrageous reparations and outlawry against us - won the day. The King and his kinsman were shamed before the entire tribe, who drove him out Clearwine Fort in a hail of dung and cabbages. With the Blackmor finally exposed as no fit Orlanthi king, the Colymar celebrated with a feast, but wondered collectively now what?
The Blackmor remained king, if but in name only, but also one with support of the Provincial Government. He will remain king unless and until an acceptable challenger presents themselves before the tribe and claims the right of kingship, or until he dies. Perhaps at the moot next year we’ll find out. Perhaps we must suffer kinstrife and rebellion to finally be rid of him, once and for all. But for the moment, he had retreated to Runegate, surrounded himself with sorcerers and demons, and he won’t step outside his longhouse for fear of being assassinated.
And what of our beloved exiled Queen Leika? She was in the south, in Heortland, fighting desperately under King Broyan’s banner in Whitewall against Fazzur Wideread’s legions.
We returned to the tula and began to prepare for our journey to Hell.
e
Earth Season, 1618
Senulf the Blind returned from Jonstown, headshorn and wearing a white robe. He dedicated himself to Chalana Arroy (whom he steadfastly refered to as “Her Mercy”) and returned to us to teach us the healing of peace.
We spent what we could of Earth season planning our quest to Hell. We needed to learn where the Lunar Hell lay in the Underworld, and wherein there we might find Hofstaring Treeleaper. We began to form our own map of the Underworld.
Our Heroquest Map of the Underworld
We decided that we would follow Orlanth’s Path into the Underworld as the Lightbringers, a plan which the clan supported. We decided our positions:
- Orlanth, the leader - Sarlanth, bearing Wrath;
- Flesh Man, the mortal - Orsten, bearing the Hawthorne Bough;
- Issaries, the speaker - Dinestan;
- Chalana Arroy, the healer - Senulf the Blind;
- Lhankor Mhy, the knower - Arnulda, a young Free Sage from Jonstown and apprentice of Minaryth Purple who has, it seems, something for Desrik;
- Eurmal, the trickster - Drunk Desrik, bearing the Hands of Hofstaring; and
- Ginna Jar - Garniskis, the clan’s wyter, in the form of the Woodpecker Staff.
We expect to pass these stations in the Underworld:
- Kaldar and Sinjota at the Bronze Gate;
- The Long Descent;
- The Path of Silence;
- Janak at the Bridge of Bones;
- Havan Vor, the Court of Silence;
- Darhudan and Darhudana, Grandfather and Grandmother Mortal, Daka Fal and Havan Vor, King and Queen of the Dead;
- The Door to the Pit;
- The Empty Mountain; and
- Ershkintu, the Pit, the Lunar Hell.
Our objective was to free Hofstaring Treeleaper from Hell and thereby learn a weakness in Lunar magic to use against them for our clan.
Desrik prepared Redbird’s Golden Wheel, having it placed on a silver chain and hung about his neck, to bring back something else from the Underworld.
o
Dark Season, 1618
News came from Hendrikiland and the Lunar Conquest. Karse, the fortified city that guards the mouth of the Marzeel River and the Suchara Vale, fell to a Lunar assault. Rumor had it that a regiment of inhuman dragonewts slew the defenders. The surviving inhabitants opened the gates and welcomed Fazzur and the Lunar army. Only sacred Whitewall still held out against the Lunar army.*
g
Storm Season, 1618
gsg
One Day, Windsday, Movement Week, Storm Season 1618
Orlanth’s birthday is his high holy day. All initiates go to his Great Hall and help their god in one of his mythological battles. Clans who do not celebrate this day will have no wind over their tula for the upcoming year. Priests and devotees carefully sacrifice bulls, rams, and the occasional horse or exotic beast to achieve maximum success and luck.
Orlanthi worship Great Orlanth in all of his 49 names on this day, for he is One God. In the darkness before dawn, he musters out as the Warrior to combat his winter foes. During the day, he gives out from the clan’s stores to the hungry as the Chief. At dusk, unmarried worshippers retire to Orlanth’s Hall as the Thunderer prepares the world for the coming of Spring. Married worshippers join their wives in private celebrations, for Orlanth’s high holy day is also one of Ernalda’s holy days.
This is Orlanth’s high holy day, but Ernalda receives nearly equal time and attention. Ernalda Mother of the Tribe is preeminent here, and she works to support Orlanth on his day in every way possible. She presents him with gifts, and receives his assurances of support. Married couples perform the rites in public, then renew their vows in private before the public feast.
Our clansmen gathered around us and performed the Arming of Orlanth.
I
Sacred Time, 1618
oKI
Together Day, Freezeday, Fate Week, Sacred Time 1618
Together Day celebrates the long and happy marriage of Orlanth and Ernalda. It begins joyously, with the unmarried worshippers praising married couples, giving them gifts of bread, wine, bright clothing, and copper and silver ornaments. As the day passes, they spend more time apart. By dusk the women are gone, just as Ernalda left Orlanth during the Darkness. Although men and women worship together in most of the Sacred Time rites that follow, married couples spend the next week and a half apart. They sleep and eat separately (even though unmarried people share their meals and even their beds if they wish), and come together again only on Return Day.
On Together Day, we gathered with our clansmen and began to beat the drums to let the spirits and gods of the Underworld know we were coming. Then the women left us and we mourned them.
gKI
Lightbringer Day, Windsday, Fate Week, Sacred Time 1618
Lightbringer Day commemorates when Orlanth set off to heal the world. The two weeks between his high holy day and this day are full of special celebrations leading up to the day when the Lightbringer’s Quest is re-enacted (or, sometimes, begun for real). Each initiate and devotee takes the part and lives the ordeals of his or her deity. Without these ceremonies, the clan will face Chaos and darkness: the very earth will be infertile, streams will dry up, the wild wind will ravage the tula, and healing will be impossible. At the height of the rite’s first day, seven leaders leave on the Lightbringers’ Quest. They are gone until Return Day, a week later. Various parts of the quest are performed throughout the week, and the clan must continue without their leaders, sending them their support and power so that they do not fail.
After three days of mourning the loss of the women, we watched as Orlanth’s Ring climbed into the highest part of the sky and then vanished into the Underworld.
We then feasted together with all the thanes. At the head of the table sat Sarlanth, dressed in red and green, with an empty chair on his left beside him.
When it was time, Savan Thundermaker took the Hands of Hofstaring and gave them to Orlgard Korlmarsson, who fastened them to the Woodpecker Staff with a silver chain. Gordangar handed the Woodpecker Staff to Desrik. Desrik then tapped Sarlanth on the shoulder and said, “Time to go.”
With drums beating, we placed the sacred masks on our faces and the feathered capes on our shoulders. Uncle Rockfast beckoned us to follow him through the Right Door. Outside, Uncle lit a single torch to guide us in front. The clansmen lined up on either side of our file. On our left, Heler’s men were on foot and beat drums. On our right, Elmal’s men rode horses and bore spears. Behind us came Erinina and the other Axe Women who did not depart on Together Day. The great procession climbed the ridges, still covered with snow.
Above the Cinder Pits, our clan had erected a great carved and painted pole of Kolat Blowing Wind, surrounded by four massive oakfeds which melted the snow. We entered the sacred ring, while the procession encircled us. The Kolatings came forward and marked our hands with ashes. Then they lifted our masks and marked our foreheads with ash as well. Then he began to sing the Summons of Evil. The drummers beat out the summons while the thanes readied their spears.
Snow began to fall and we waited while the drummers beat the ominous rhythms. Then someone cried, “They are here!”
We heard someone cry in pain. We heard metal clash on wood. And the world fell away.
Around us, mountains crashed into rubble and steads lay in smoking ruins. No star shown in the sky. Only the Red Moon still hung there, balefully above us.
We followed a small path to the west, through the smoking ruins towards the shattered mountains.
At the foot of the mountains, at the base of a black cliff face, we came upon two great bronze doors, forty-five feet high. Before them stood two monstrous demon guardians, Kaldar, his hands full of weapons, and Sinjota, her hands full of snakes. Desrik stepped forward and presented himself to Sinjota and seduced her. Then we descended upon Kaldar and fought with him until he yielded. We passed beyond them and the Great Bronze Doors slammed shut and locked behind us.
Beyond the door was a tunnel, and beyond the tunnel was a massive hole mounted by a rough-hewn stairway spiraling down into it the depths: The Long Descent.
We spent days upon the Long Descent, or so it seemed. When we finally came to the bottom, we found a shade, a sad king, who greeted us warmly: “I’ve been waiting for you, my children, so that I can guide you to Havan Vor and beyond.”
Our guide led us out of the cave into a vast plain of crushed obsidian, ash, and black sand. There was no sky above us, only Darkness. Mountains shifted, rose and fell, in the distance. The air was fetid and thick.
Our guide lead us to the edge of a vast grey and brown swamp, buzzing with bloated blueflies. We walked around it.
We saw huge moving shadows that wandered the obsidian plain, and the sight of them filled us with dread and fear. “Those are ancient powers of Darkness called Dehori. They destroy lesser beings with fear. You must not fear.” said our guide.
We passed a range of immense giants the size of mountains, buried chest-deep or higher in rock. They raged at us. The cried as we passed. They pleaded with us to release them. They cursed us when we did not. They begged us to come back as we walked away. “Those are some of the giants defeated by Orlanth and cast down into the Underworld.” said our guide.
We heard the sound of ten thousand drums, coming from a host of ten by ten thousand trolls and Darkness demons assembled in a deep valley below us. “This is but a fraction of the army of Darkness that gathers to invade the Middle World when the Hero Wars erupts.” said our guide.
Our path skirted the edge of an immense and foreboding dead forest. It was shadowy and gloomy. Patches of fog drifted through the grim, leafless trees. Odd lights appeared and disappeared, seeming to beckon us nearer. We came no closer than bowshot as we walked around it outskirts. “That is Nightwood, a place as timeless as the dark.” said our guide.
Then we heard the baying of hounds and bloodcurdling howls from deep in the forest. The barking and howling was far away and moving. Among the sound of hounds we could hear even more frightening inhuman shrieks and cries. “That sound is the Wild Hunt of Gagarth, hunting lost souls as food for his hunt. It is good that he is not hunting you.” said our guide. “Then, again, listen!”
We heard that the direction of the barks and shrieks had changed and so also had a wind risen. The pack was drawing nearer and the winds soon were shrieking around us. Then hot stinging hail began to rain upon us. The pack erupted from the Nightwood, great wolf-like dogs with grey fur, glowing red eyes, and breathing fire. And with them, the shrieking, furious dead of the Greydogs we had killed.
From over the trees leapt a rider upon an eagle-beaked, eight-legged demon steed. He was a skull-headed man with flaming eyes and bearing a cruel, barbed spear: Gagarth the Wild Hunter.
The Wild Hunt descended upon us. Dinestan fell as one of the wolves ripped into his arm. We all took wounds from burning bites, scratching claws, and black barbs. But then Orsten released a great cleansing wind that blew Gagarth back into the sky and allowed us to escape. Orsten’s wind came back and told him a secret, while Dinestan saw that the wolf had eaten the fingers of his right hand away.
Our guide said, “Well done. The Wild Hunt shall not bother us again. Rest now, then we will proceed.”