Through The Mists (WAR)

Come, brothers and sisters, share with us your tales, from before your joined to today! Tell us of yourself and your travels and travails! (IC Please, OOC labeled!)

Through The Mists (WAR)

Postby Braynon » Tue Sep 16, 2008 11:18 am

Wind rustled through the leaves of the large oak tree that, with its abundant foliage covered two mounds of earth and their head stones. Two figures stood over the mounds of earth, one of which had only some months to settle. One of the figures was well-covered in as much dark cloth as could cover him, and the other was nothing remarkable, wearing simple and worn traveling clothes that left his arms bare. They stood without speaking; each in their own mind making peace with what was about to transpire.

Lothrien stood quietly and waited. He knew that this would be difficult because this grave was still relatively fresh, and he was not entirely sure if Braynon had entirely reconciled himself with the fact that Megh had passed; her soul went back beyond the veil and her body buried here, next to her husband’s. That was her wish. To be left to rest near Gherhum, the man who had shared her bed
and warmed her heart for so many years before his passing. Lothrien knew Megh well. She had been like a mother to him when he finally worked up the courage to return to the old village. She had lived a long time, and her final rest was well deserved. She did not die on an enemy blade, or in magical flames... but of old age, peacefully, in her sleep. He knew this and found comfort in that
knowledge, but while he missed her mothering and ministrations sorely... he knew that Braynon missed her more. He had grown up in her home. He had been her son in all but the biological sense. And so he waited for his friend to say his farewells, but the mist of twilight was beginning to thin and if they delayed any longer, they would lose the opportunity and would have to wait. Loth put a hand on Braynon’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze, as if to both offer some measure of comfort and snap him out of what seemed like a trance, and quietly said “Come on, old friend. It’s time.”

Braynon nodded, and without a word hefted his packs. Some travel lightly, but that was not his way. His armour was stowed in his sack, along with a few other things, a battle-worn great sword was trapped across his back, and a wicked crescent blade fastened at his belt. In his hands, he hefted a reat maul; the weapon that he had refused to wield for so many years until he gave into temptation. He looked like grizzled old mercenary, carrying the tools of his grim trade. The only thing the belied, At least in this place, his identity and association with something grander than an army for hire was the shield that was slung over his back, dangling over his packs. A battered old kite with it’s proud crest; “quarterly, argent and gules a stag passant sable”. The old standard. The one that he, and so many of his brothers and sisters had bled for and rallied to. Lothrien wore it too... but much more subtly, on an arm-band. The heraldry of The Wild Hunt.

Braynon spared one last look over his shoulder. The silhouette of Dun Crimthainn was becoming more and more detailed. How he would miss it... but it was, indeed, time. Many had already gone. Rhyllani had gone just a few days earlier... Chromys some months back... Laef... he had not seen in a long time, but had heard rumor that he had gone. All of them had heard the call. All of them felt it. And now it was time to answer. “Alright, ya ol’ sneak. Lets get on wi’it. Mayhap we find th’others there. Happen they found a place in tha’ land.”

Through many years they had been inseparable. They had been friends since they were both children. Together they stepped into the grove in the woods where the mists were still thick. In that circle, they both envisioned in their mind’s eye the place that had come to them in dreams night after night after night. And as they stood in the circle, they began to fade. Soon the Nightshade and the Champion were no more than wisps of mist in the grove, leaving the green rolling hills of Hibernia forever behind them.
Braynon Cearnach
.: Lothrien .:. Loreith .:. Xyris :.
Hail the hoof and hail the horn
Hail the fear that begs the dawn
The night is ours, the moon is full
These creatures are ours to cull
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Re: Through The Mists (WAR)

Postby Khat » Thu Sep 18, 2008 10:59 am

Calanora stood just out of sight, watching her old friends, and sometime adversaries. She was now able to conceal herself enough – yet caution told her that this was no ordinary time, that should she be seen by the two men – well, she wouldn't be sure what sort of welcome she would receive. She watched them both for a long time, over the two graves, wishing she could know their thoughts. When Lothrien spoke, she long had it been since she had heard his voice? Braynon answered and the shudder returned, sparking a strong urge to find out what had made them appear after so many seasons, and where they were going.

Carefully, still keeping herself concealed, she watched where they went. When they were out of sight, she approached the graves with respect, not knowing their relation to her old friends. She sat on the ground a long while, going deep inside herself, her old powers waking up slowly....hoping to get anything...any image...

The image came slowly, and finally solidified – they were headed to the Otherworld! Quickly, she jumped to her feet, silent as a cat, and ran all the way back to the special hut on the hills overlooking the Shannon Estuary. The sisters were kind enough to take her in after her life fell apart, and she considered them family. It wouldn't be right to leave without them. Smirking to herself, she thought it was sure that they would follow – considering they were old friends. Scribbling a note and leaving it on the spike near the door, she swiftly packed her things and headed out after the two men.

Brinah came home some time later with her sister, Rainn. Seeing the note, she cocks her head. “Where'n hell's she goin' now?” the Champion muttered under her breath. Rainn, hearing her sister's mumble looks over her shoulder at the note. Calanora. She blows out a frustrated breath. “That's trouble, Brin, you remember...” “Aye, I 'member, but m'dear, I don' care.” Giving Rainn a cocky grin, she leaps to her room with a battle cry and starts packing her things. Rainn reads the note, then looks to the ceiling, muttering a prayer and starts to follow Brinah. “Where's Hawke?” Rainn asks. “Dunno, she's out an' about I'm sure. Leave her a message here an' she'll follow us,” Brinah replied over her shoulder. “That's what I'm afraid of...” mutters Rainn. “Oh cheer up, sis! How long's it been since ya seen another Hunter?” Rainn smiles, replacing her dour look, mutters another prayer and starts to pack. “What will we do with the house?” Rainn asked. Brinah shrugs, slinging her packs toward the door with one hand. “Dunno, let th' locals 'keens tend t'it. Seems like th' thing t'do, an' besides.....we're gonna find our friends again. We'll make a new home.” Brinah pats her sister's shoulder, now slumped with many heavy bags. “You're right. Let's go. Leave a message for Hawke.” Brinah whoops again, scribbling a note and spiking it near the door.

Later that day as they travel, Rainn tilts her face to the sky, a look of hope and joy on her face for the first time in many years. Brinah grins. “What're ye about now?” Rainn smiles her way and finally hugs her close. “Oh Brin! We're really going to see them again?” “Aye, looks tha' way,” Brinah grunts with the force of her sister's hug.

Humming an ancient tune, Rainn strides ahead and laughs. “Hurry!”
They sang together, in a rough harmony:

On the field, with sword and shield amidst the din of dying men’s wails…
War is waged and the battle will rage until only the righteous prevail.
“Whatever women must do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.”
~ Charlotte Whitton ~

"Experience is what you get when you don't get what you want."
~ Randy Pausch ~
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