In Hengethorn
Adam Hattrell
2011/11/13 10:16

Table of Contents
Jun 25 2011 	 # 

Jun 25 2011
Olvir bellowed, somewhat unnecessarily as the spiders had heard us approach. Song stepped aside with a flourish to reveal the huge body of the tyrant lizard and show the giant arachnids clustered at the entrance our end of the deal had been met. They looked surprised (if a spider can be said to look surprised) but several scuttled out and began examining the carcass and soon 8 or so were cutting it into pieces and sealing them with their silk into packages. As hunks of enshrouded lizard were carried away into the cave, two more bundles were carried out to us and laid at our feet, where Song knelt to lay a hand on one only to discover that something inside it was moving. She asked what it was and the spiders explained, somewhat proudly, that food had to be kept fresh. It was a little eerie, but regardless it was the promised silk as agreed and we thanked them for it. There was just one more thing due: a riddle for the wood spider which was sat nearby, dematerialised, watching its children demolish the tyrant lizard. Song walked over and sat down beside it. The spider was at least the same size as Song and its children and it fixed all eight beady eyes on her as she told it the riddle she’d tried out on the others while they dragged the lizard through the forest. Its confident first answer and Song’s shake of her head were followed by several more responses to which Song answered no to each, congratulating it on a witty response but not the one the riddle sought. Eventually as it demanded the answer she made it wait but a moment (though seemingly a long one) before answering and it accepted her answer.
She hadn’t forgotten the horses she’d killed earlier and recruited Olvir to help carry the carcasses back to the cave. Caelan made himself scarce – he wasn’t sure what he felt about horses as food for spiders – so didn’t see her lay them at the feet of the largest of the spiders as a gift and a token of her hopes for future dealings. They set upon the foal and quickly devoured it before wrapping the mare in silk and she and Olvir excused themselves, bade the spiders farewell and went back to find our mounts, carrying the precious bundles of silk. Away from the cave of spiders we discovered the secrets within the cocoons – two boar, one still alive. The spider venom might have kept it living but it wouldn’t be for long, and Song ended its misery before removing it. With the bodies removed the silk was much lighter and simple enough to secure to the horses, and as Caelan rejoined the party we set out to travel back to Jadespike. Van-Oris was still around and to Song’s eyes, seeing the hidden, she saw him crouched protectively on the silk bundles, wings extended over them. She asked him the best ways of preparing it but he didn’t know.
We made it back to the mining village by nightfall and after a hearty meal in the tavern Song left Olvir and Caelan nursing their ale and retired to her room to see how best the silk could be spun – if only to make it easier to transport. By dawn she’d learnt how to manipulate the strands, made a start on skeining the silk and even caught a few hours of sleep.
We caught up with Sissay in the morning before leaving. We’d done all we could for Jadespike and it was time for us to move on but wanted a few words with our de facto leader of the town before we did. It was handy, as she wanted a few words with us, too. Mostly, she wanted to establish what she thought about the rulership of Jadespike was true – and knowing what she meant without needing to say it we told her she was right. She nodded, she’d thought as much...
With that, and some final words of advice from Caelan, we left Jadespike behind us and hit the road - or frosty mud path to be more accurate, winding south towards Oakhaven. Wrapped up against the chill wind and occasional sleety squall we nonetheless made good time, with Caelan spending a couple of hours each night hunting. Both Lunars managed some hunting of their own, Olvir taking the form of a dog which had probably run wild from a village and Song the shape of a beautiful tiger-swallowtail butterfly.
Rejoining the circus in Oakhaven gave us the chance to spend time amongst friends and reaffirm our relationship with our travelling home. Oakhaven was a moderate sized town and we spent our time productively. Song found a buyer for that rarest of items - Tyrant Lizard testicles - along with a few other exotic components, and the following day the three headed to the market where Caelan and Ariorn helped pick out a couple of sound horses. Olvir needed a strong animal to carry his goremaul when he wasn’t carrying it and Song wanted her own horse for riding and to carry her supplies, since we were spending more time travelling apart from the circus troupe. Caelan’s expert eye, enhanced by the gifts of the Unconquered Sun, let him pick out the best: a solid, bay gelding for Olvir and a fine young horse for Song, who she named Tsukiyo, his dark grey dappling reminding her of full moon nights beneath the forest canopy.
It wasn’t all to be rest and shopping. Selene suggested to Caelan it was about time he got his act together and she meant it in a literal sense. He overcame his nerves (or at least, any outward signs of them) as she worked with him to practice, encouraging him to shoot apples from their air and pinion the fruit with multiple arrows through the same hole. He worked up to the act on horseback and used his Solar gifts to help him balance and aim to shoot only the apples and not random passers-by. He needn’t have worried: his skill didn’t let him down. There was just one thing missing... a costume. He managed to squeeze into the tight, bright yellow affair that had been knocked up in jest by the costumier when he’d first discussed his act months ago, and none had the heart to suggest it might not be the most flattering outfit around. He proudly told Olvir what was in the performance, though left out an addition he’d put in at the last minute and arranged only with Ariorn and Selene.
The show itself he approached with quiet confidence and took to the ring like one born to it, and as the gasps from the crowd gave way to cheers of adulation he revelled in their adoration. Serving only to make the show more impressive he “fell” from the saddle, one foot caught in a stirrup and as shock rippled through the crowd even Olvir ran out to help – only to have Caelan recover himself with style and complete the performance to rapturous applause.
Buoyed by his success he left the arena where the circus folk both congratulated and berated him for his stunt fall – Olvir especially giving him a stern telling off. But even that couldn’t dampen him mood. He ran off to Song’s caravan to tell her – she’d seen a little of the performance having peeped inside the tent after hearing the loud applause earlier and was delighted at the crowd’s response to him and his joy at it. She suggested a new costume might make things less itchy... but regardless, he and Olvir headed for the tavern still in circus garb – Caelan liked Olvir’s thinking that he’d get a few more drinks if everyone could recognise him immediately. Olvir, feeling sorry for the lad, didn’t change either and wandered along in his loincloth, the chill of the night air bearable, especially with a few drinks under his (metaphorical) belt. As it was the evening involved more than just a few drinks (much to Caelan’s delight) and passed in a pleasant haze, until people drifted off to bed in the early hours.
Olvir had shown unusual interest in Ylang’s mospids since meeting up again with Selene’s Flurry, and one circus flunky had been heard telling another it seemed like he’d been talking to them. That he’d been doing just that should come as a surprise to no-one, but it certainly confused Ylang, who, at feeding time discovered an extra mospid in the cage. After he’d got the reaction he was hoping for (utter bemusement and confusion), Olvir (using his Charm to allow him human speech) told her who he was and why he was hanging around in the cage as an extra mospid – he’d asked her mospids earlier where wild ones might be found and had snuck off and hunted one down to take its heart’s blood, thinking it might make a good disguise. She shook he head in disbelief, walking away and telling him sternly that she didn’t want there to be an extra mospid in the cage when she got back. And no, that didn’t mean him eating one of the others! He talked to her later to try and mollify her feelings, having resumed his human form, and told her he could find some mospid eggs, if she needed any more...? She was interested enough that he and Caelan went off the next day to get them.
Meantime, Song spent the day mixing potions people has asked for specifically and purchasing three necklaces, one in god and two in silver, upon which she strung the tyrant lizard teeth, one for each of them, gifting them to the others when they got back. The rest of the time she was in her wagon skeining the spider silk, making a little more progress.
We gathered together one evening a few days before departing to discuss Hengethorn: our next stop and potential site of Yozi-worship. Olvir knew the blacksmith of Oakhaven and spoke to him the next day to ask if he knew much. He’d heard a little: the new leader of the rites was named Daras and had been in place some 6 months or so following the mysterious death of the former priest and was introducing some new rites – one of which involved the hanging for 3 days of some members of the village as a test of endurance. 
The Hengethorn rite we knew well wasn’t exactly innocuous, involving as it did the blood sacrifice of a person, but at least we were accustomed to that. Song didn’t much like the sound of the changes when Olvir told her and set to researching Hengethorn and the rites described. Her first port of call was her ancient family tome, a book of well-worn leather with a cracked, egg-shaped stone set into the cover along with a faded silvered inlay. It was as familiar to her as her own hands but this time when she picked it up it felt strangely different... it warmed to her touch and she realised that, like she’d done with the lightning torment hatchets, she could infuse it with her own Essence. As she did so pages opened up that she’d never read before: the knowledge of all who’d written in the book revealed... but only where she herself had added new knowledge. The book would share the secrets of her line but only if she could add her own. Fascinated, she slid into her usual reading position on the floor and spent several hours discovering new insights. Discovering the Hengethorn rite written in detail brought her back to the present with an unpleasant start: it was the way to summon a decanthrope into Creation. Decanthropes were particularly unpleasant: they could possess up to ten people, taking control of them after they’d survived the hanging for 3 days.
Discussing it with Caelan and Olvir the next day we decided to approach with the circus and investigate quietly to begin with. The White Clouds had already left to make preparations so we had only our usual occupations to keep us busy for the four days until the circus rolled into town on a frosty morning, the first day of Resplendent Water.
Hengethorn’s 900 houses were arranged in a doughnut shape around the verdant henge at its centre, a carefully tended mass of pyracantha, or firethorn. The bright berries were highly poisonous as were the thorns – a single prick could make the victim feel as if they were burning up inside and few would survive. For those of us who’d seen the town before, little had changed. A few houses had been rebuilt or extended and the shrubs surrounding the burial mound to the west had been neatened up in the year since we’d visited, but otherwise, all was as we’d expected.
We were greeted by the town’s leaders – a council of three. Veskel was a strong and confident older woman who many saw as the matriarch of the town and held her position through respect. Wren was the oldest of the community and had earned his position by dint of age and (one hoped) wisdom. The third was Blane, not originally of the village but a traveller who’d settled a few years back. He had a mouth full of charm and a purse full of money and had been generous with both. 
They were pleased to see us and made us welcome and as we talked we asked, inevitably, about Daras. They were glad to have him they said, as he’d arrived into the community soon after Brem, the old priest, had suffered his unpleasant fate: attacked and ripped apart by some kind of apes apparently. Daras was a travelling priest who’d stepped in to lead the rites and they’d asked him to stay after he proved popular with the people of the town. The council seemed happy with him and the changes he’d suggested to the ritual reasoning that everyone had slightly different ways, and certainly they showed no sign of seeing anything amiss. We asked about the hangings - the three who’d volunteered for the test of endurance would be closely watched and if any showed signs of distress would be brought down immediately – they hoped at least one would make it through all three days, but their safety was paramount.
It all seemed very simple, and thus sinister. But with nothing to go on we investigated slowly. Olvir caught up with the town’s blacksmith and heard the gruesome tale of the death of Bren and where he died – on the land of a farmer by the name of Still Sky. Caelan made a tour of the village getting a feel for the place while Song talked to the alchemist, Isdel, trading some tyrant lizard claws and scales for rare spices and a couple of interesting geomantic procedures. One would enable a manse to be traced from the hearthstone and vice versa and the other enable a manse to be properly located. Tracking Caelan’s hearthstone came immediately to mind but both would make for interesting reading and if she wasn’t to study them herself they could be sold on. But Isdel was as in the dark as the council regarding the potential danger in the priest Daras. She said she’d introduce Song to him later – there were a few things he needed to acquire for the ritual itself which he thought she could provide.
Meeting up in the afternoon Song suggested Caelan come along with her to meet him and so as evening approached both went with Isdel to a house on the outskirts of the village, a large and not-quite imposing building in which Daras met us and served us tea in a downstairs reception room. Smelling the citrus blend he offered a little suspiciously Song determined it was just tea... but we were wary nonetheless. Daras, however, seemed perfectly pleasant, talking over the incenses and other mundane items he wanted, none of which screamed of Yozi worship. Song even broached the subject and they engaged in conversation about its worrisome nature – and glad Daras was, he said, that there was no-one like that around. He seemed totally genuine, which was confusing but perhaps indicated it wasn’t him that was the source. He’d been at other tests of endurance and this one would help the town to bond around its strong members he said. Song wasn’t convinced by that but said nothing more, not wanting to alert him to the nature of the rite.
Caelan and Isdel had been getting on well and headed to the tavern while Song stopped off by her wagon to set a couple of spice mixtures fermenting before meeting Olvir later – he was also in the tavern but hadn’t wanted to disturb Caelan while he was with a woman - though at Caelan’s invitation both joined him and Isdel. We relaxed for a little while as it got dark and Song made her excuses and left. Back in her wagon she shifted into the form of a rat and under cover of night scuttled across to Daras’s residence. Sniffing around she found the cracks in the walls which led within and snuck inside, hoping to find a trace of whatever had laid dark influence on the priest. She’s not gone more than a few feet across the floor of the kitchen when a slight movement gave her all the warning she needed and she fled back inside the hole, narrowly avoiding being smashed by a reddish, meaty fist. A glance back was all she needed to recognise the erymanthoi which had materialised to hit her, the demons were common all over Creation. This one, she supposed, had been set to guard the house. Cursing herself for not having used Luna’s gift to see the unseen she called on it then and saw another blood ape, this one dematerialised, growling at its fellow. The enraged bellow the materialised one had given out had brought Daras running and he silenced it with an angry command. Well now, that was interesting. It wasn’t unusual for a sorcerer to have one or two blood apes bound into service, but Song could now see the other three which followed him as personal bodyguards. Especially since one of them wasn’t just a regular erymanthoi but one of the generals among blood apes. Perhaps there was something more to Daras than we thought, after all? 
The chastised blood ape dematerialised again, at which point the more powerful ape struck it a heavy blow and knocked it out. As Daras went to answer the door and reassure a concerned village he had no idea where the shout had come from – perhaps a little way away, he suggested, lying beautifully – Song-as-rat cautiously emerged from her hiding place to do a blood ape tally. There were six of them in all, three patrolling the house and three attending to his person. She scuttled out of the house and this time hid in the woods where rat shifted to fruit bat, flew back and hung outside a lit, curtained window and listened to Daras mutter and curse as he scribed something. 
Having gleaned what she could she retreated, shifted shape again and met Caelan and Isdel just as Hengethorn’s alchemist was calling it a night. Caelan walked her home before meeting Song back at her wagon where she filled him in. Olvir returned later from a hunt, and she retold the story. We made plans for the morning and realised we ought to warn Selene as well just in case things didn’t go so well, so adjourned to the campfire to find her where she was sat with a few others. She could tell we had something more than just fireside gossip in mind and we went to her wagon to talk further. It was the first time we’d been into her wagon since we Exalted and as we stepped over the threshold Song realised she’d stepped into a manse.
One thing at a time though: we told Selene what we suspected about Daras and why: the blood apes guarding him and the hanging ritual he’d done so much to initiate. Narrowing her eyes Selene realised Song was right about the decanthrope ritual. She wanted to know what we were going to do and we told her, and she offered to help. We were grateful but said we ought to be able to handle it just fine – and wanted to keep her out of it if possible. As we went to leave, Song, curiosity piqued, stepped across the threshold of the manse and back a couple of times, seeing the wagon as if for the first time and realising it was a Wyld aspected manse... not the Wood aspect we’d have expected. The Essence of the place gently pushed back, barring her from attunement. She’d not sought to do so, but the intent was clear. With a nod to Selene she wondered aloud just how she could have a manse which moved...?
That night, Song updated her tome with notes on the erymanthoi, including the general amongst blood apes where she discovered its name had been recorded in her book, along with some notes on it, including that it wielded a vitriol dire lance. Disturbed by the day’s events, she slept in lynx form, ears pricked for danger.
The morning saw us staking out Daras’s residence. We wanted to get in and take the journal Song had heard him writing in the night before, hoping it would contain enough incriminating evidence to be taken before the town’s council. It would need him to leave for an amount of time but as the morning progressed it became apparent he rarely left, instead receiving guests at his house. We overheard him mention to one visitor as they left he was due to receive more people later that day and as such, we adapted the plan a little. Waiting until he was busy with guests (and at least three blood apes would be with him) Song, in the form of an antshrike flew up to the roof and pulled away enough straw with her beak to slip into the roof cavity. It was full of old, dusty books – probably belonging to the previous resident as they didn’t look to have been moved for some time. She noted with interest the masonry supporting the beams had Old Realm script carved into them – the house had evidently stood, in one form or another, for longer than it appeared – but moved on and finding a corner carefully pecked her way into one of the upper rooms – as luck would have it, the bedroom Daras been in the night before. She flew down to land on the chair where she cast her eyes around the room; the bureau seemed to be the most likely place and carefully shifting back to her human form checked each drawer in turn finding three thin books. Looking over the oldest it turned out to be written in several languages and from the Old Realm that she could read understood it spoke of a manse within Hengethorn. The living structure required the blood sacrifice of the ritual yearly or it would... explode. Geomancy wasn’t a skill of hers but she knew enough to know that natural, tapped Essence could indeed react badly if proper precautions weren’t taken. She wasn’t surprised to learn the complex firethorn structure was more than just topiary, but it was the second book that concerned her more, detailing as it did how one could modify a manse to change its attunement. Notes had been scrawled in it indicating where changes had begun, or would be started.
The third book was just a list of names and places but some of them were unpleasantly familiar. Glissa Longshadow was listed, along with Water Shapes the Land who was associated with Clear Skies. Jeret, titled “Keeper of the Gate” was also listed with a note that said ‘Lost to Us’. There was no mention of Jadespike or Moonspire, but it was scant comfort. Song slipped all three books into her bag and checked the rest of the room, but it seemed she’d found what she came for. Shifting back to bird form, her clothes and other items pushed to Elsewhere, she returned the way she’d come.
She’d been gone at least an hour and Caelan was getting restless. He’d been watching the house in case things went amiss, along with Olvir who’d only been slightly more subtle by dint of shifting into the form of a large dog. However, no-one seemed to have noticed the escapade, including Daras and his visitors, and as Song chirruped cheerfully to them as she flew back to her caravan they followed.
All now in human forms we went over the books and Song read them out for Olvir. Caelan took a look over the third book, grimly recognising the names of a few of the Brightwater court listed, and left pretty quickly after that, clearly upset. Song followed. She asked if the Brightwater revelations had disturbed him so much or if something else troubled him, but he didn’t want to talk about it, muttering about not wanting to leave things too late, to leave Daras to do what he wanted. Neither of them wanted to do that – but Caelan said he needed some time to think on things alone as he rode out to hunt. Song returned to her caravan: if he didn’t want to talk, she always had her books to keep her company.
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