Taming the Storm

[Pig Boy]

Taming the Storm

31st of Ymiden 720

The ether rains that fell earlier in Ymiden of 720 have abated, and in their wake, the waters of Svariella have taken on a prismatic coloration. Even when bottled and removed, the waters project a colorful rainbow when held to the light, that shimmers and ripples with life. When imbibed, a Stormtouched mage proclaims that his flaying thirst has disappeared. This sends shockwaves that reach out to the rest of Melrath, and many mages belageured by the Thirst flock to Svariella to test these waters for themselves, in desperation. The Stormtouched of Svariella have put out a call for Aesir to safeguard and oversee these tastings. The call is a small olive branch to the rest of Melrath, that perhaps bodes well for the integration of the Stormtouched into whatever society emerges from the events of the past cycles.

Yet, not all is well with the Stormtouched. There are still ignorant and ill-mannered louts among the Melrathi, who think of the Stormtouched as foul abominations. Even some among Mykvior's children remain to harass the mutated Melrathi. Yet when bodies begin turning up in the wilderness, belonging to these adversaries to Svariella, some of the Melrathi are eager to point their fingers at the Stormtouched in accusation.

Ydalir are dispatched to find the culprit, and they find that it's no human that has been mutilating the enemies of the Stormtouched, but a beast corrupted by the ether storms of yesterarc...

Rainbows shone over the skies of Melrath, their rays drifting down in multitudinous patterns upon the waters of the Lake Svariella. The Rains that had come earlier in the season had finally abated, giving way to a calm that had been largely unknown to the land of Melrath in previous seasons. The villagers and those of Svariella's Chosen milled about around the beaches of the Lake, making preparations for visitors. People looking for healing, for a cure-all to their problems. If one person's calamity could be cured by the waters of Svariella, who was to say that another's ailment couldn't also be alleviated? There was a somber mood, as the faith of the Chosen began to wane.

Varine reclined on the beach, watching 'her people' as they went about their work. She was the Chieftess in an unofficial capacity among the Chosen. Selected by a majority of the Stormtouched, those who were lucid enough to make such a choice. The word had gone out, about the Stormtouched mage who had been cured of the Thirst. At that, there was little they could do to dissuade others from seeking the waters of Svariella. Whether to bottle them, bathe in them, or perform experiments. Varine didn't quite know what to expect.

Detachments of the Ydalir, the Aesir, and the Syns stood by on the outskirts of the settlement. The Ragnari and Ydalir were not given orders or permission to enter the settlement proper until it was needed. Whether it was needed would be determined by their ranking members. Victor Amielle was in charge of a group of Syns that stood at the edge of the settlement. Meanwhile, Jasper would be among the Aesir, who were set to make sure that the Spirit of Svariella was respected in all the proceedings to follow.

Varine watched all of the people gathering, and hoped she would be able to maintain calm and orderly attendance to the Lake. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, waiting.

Overhead, a singular crack of dry lightning sounded, as the Suns shone on the waters of the Lake.

It wouldn't be long before the wave of supplicants arrived.

!	Message from: Pig Boy
	Okay! Sorry about the wait for getting this up. All those who are still signed up and not dropped out can join in. I tried to give an in for those of you who are part of factions. Everyone else can more or less figure out whether they're part of the people who are in the settlement, or part of the wave of folk coming in. Have fun, and feel free to ask me any questions.

[Brent Forrester]

Taming the Storm
31 Ymiden 720

Although Brent had first been wary of the magical rains, it had soon become clear that they were a blessing to all they touched. It was extraordinary. Most of the people of Svartown believed it was Svariella’s healing influence that had caused the rains, much like her rainbow stone. Brent had little reason to believe otherwise and had thanked the spirit for every trial that he and his construction crew toiled away at the lodge and temple under the blessed rains.

There had been much gossip about the rainbow hued waters in Svariella Lake that earlier that trial when the rain seemed to have finally stopped and the clouds dispersed. Even Brent had taken his Sleipnir down to the waters to drink the prismatic waters. But some wounds never truly heal, and the battle scars upon the creature seemed to take no effect. Nevertheless, Brent couldn’t help but scoop up a jar of the blessed water and tuck it into his bag.

The cartographer and aspiring architect sat back on a large block of bluish stone, and took a sip from his waterskin. Non-blessed water, that is. Two of his laborers were levering another stone block into place as the walls of the temple made their slow progress upwards. They were doing it. Slowly. But with each stone block they were closer to completing the temple to Svariella.

A gust of wind, wings, and hooves made Brent get up quickly from his rest. Sinir, the winged sleipnir had arrived. Brent had originally considered using a rope to tie up the creature, like he might his old pack horse. However, it soon became clear that the sleipnir’s spirited nature would override anything as meager as a rope. Thus, Sinir came and went as he pleased, and Brent was just glad that the creature liked him well enough to keep coming back.

The sleipnir gave a loud snort in Brent’s face and then nuzzled its snout against the bag that hung over his shoulder. Or maybe the winged horse just liked the treats. Brent was not above bribery, and soon produced a strip of dried meat along with a handful of oats. Sinir made quick work of the food. Soon Brent would need to get some more. He could have sworn that the sleipnir ate five times as much as a regular horse.

Sinir stood close to the builder and spread its wings doing a series of small flaps. He repeated it, but did not actually take flight. Brent looked at the creature in a puzzled manner. Then the flint struck. The sleipnir wanted Brent to fly with him. Despite the freedom Brent had given the winged horse, he did insist on keeping the saddle on throughout the day. With a less than elegant scramble, the cartographer climbed up onto the sleipnir and before he had hardly gotten himself situated on the creature’s back, the sleipnir took off at a run. As he was learning, there was a substantial lopsidedness to the sleipnir’s gait and Brent hung on to the horn of the saddle. With one last jump, they were in the air and that’s when the sideways rocking mostly ceased.

Brent’s heart pounded in his chest as they flew over the small settlement of Svartown, despite flying relatively low. The wind tore at his hair and his knees struggled to find a good place to grip the winged horse. But what was surprising was number of people Brent could see gathering at the settlement. Sure, the place was growing but there seemed to be many people coming in from the north and even a few boats on the river. Just as Brent was trying to figure out how to count the multitude of people who were gathering, he was jolted to one side as Sinir landed heavily on the ground. The cartographer clung to the saddle despite the inelegant look of riding face down and almost sideways, until the winged horse slowed down to a walk. He wondered if he’d ever get used to the taking flight and landing.

The Svartown chieftess could be seen by the water and eventually Brent managed to halt the sleipnir by sitting up straight and pulling gently at the reins. After dismounting, he spoke aloud to no one in particular. “There must have been hundreds of people out there. All for the healing waters?”

The powers of healing were certainly not to be overlooked but it made him nervous to see so many people coming into the small town. It seemed that he was not alone. The chieftess, was it Valine? also appeared anxious. And who could blame her? Svartown had been a place for the stormtouched and other outcasts to go. Whereas now, the greater Melrathi population had taken a keen interest.

Brent walked slowly with Sinir towards the beach, reins in hand, curious what all the activity was truly about. As much as he wanted to stick with his work crew today was starting to look rather different for him.

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Template Credit: Navyri

[Victor Amielle]

Victor raised his head, shielding his eyes that had become more light-sensitive due to one of his Awakenings with a hand as he did so, and gazed at the rainbows that were visible in the sky above him for a moment before he turned to look at the lake that extended some distance in front of him. There was something quite mesmerizing, something undeniably beautiful, about the play of colors on its surface, but at the same time, he could not help but feel a bit of trepidation.

The rainbow-colored water was said to make the Thirst go away. The news that a solution, a possible cure for the Thirst, had been found had sent shockwaves through the magic community of Melrath (he had to admit, he had been intrigued as well) – and caused people to speculate that other ailments might be alleviated as well. Soon, a large number of visitors would arrive at the lake in order to drink the water – or experiment with it.

Such would already have constituted a concerning situation under normal circumstances; if one added Stormtouched to the mix, something was bound to go wrong sooner or later though. The Stormtouched that lived in the village at the shore of the lake seemed comparatively tolerable, although the sight of their mutations made him uncomfortable sometimes. Some of those that wanted to taste the waters would likely be more like animals though, unreasonable, aggressive, rabid even.

Victor would not attack a Stormtouched just because they were Stormtouched or hurl insults at them – he knew better than that - but he was not sure to which extent they could be trusted. For that reason, he would be careful as long as he was here – and not let his guard down. With that thought in mind, the Transmuter and swordsman who was garbed in a green coat that offered protection that was akin to chainmail, among other things, turned to address the group of Syns that he was in charge of, just as a crack of lightning sounded.

“Soon, the beach here will get quite crowded, and it is likely that there will be problems of some sort. For that reason, I want you to watch the proceedings carefully. Do not enter the village without explicit permission from the Chieftess or myself though. We have been forbidden from doing so”, he reminded them, hoping that they’d listen to him. He was not entirely sure why they were not allowed to enter the village proper, but he considered it to be better to obey the orders that he had been given.

For the time being, he would thus let his gaze drift over the village and the beaches of the lake, looking for any signs of trouble, for any signs of danger, but he would not do more than that.

[Jasper]

Shaman Aesir

Jasper Rel Ardiechy

Taming The Storm

31 Ymiden 720

The world has been a little topsy turby in the past seasons and this most recent season had proven to be no different. The young Aesir had received the summons to join others of his rank in helping here at the lake. He currently stood with others of his order all of them dressing in the robes of the priest to the spirits. Each showing off their ranks and their Embla. Jasper’s own uniform lacked the sleeves so that his arms showed his own sacred marks.

While the the audience was gathering and the chieftainess sat worrying and the military men watched for threats the Aesir were doing there own work. Spread out along the shore they each were meditating in there own way trying to become untuned with the spirits. It was true that upon becoming Aesir they were granted certain gifts but which allowed them to detect spirits but for Jasper that wasn’t enough. He also had a natural talent but there was something more.

So it was that Jasper was trying to focus his attention on the attitude of the spirits of the lake. There was of course the large spirits but the little ones needed to be watched as well. Jasper was at the edge of the lake with other Aesir. Jasper’s shoes were off and he knelt so that his feet were in the water and his spread hands rested on the surface.

Jasper worked to clear his head so that he could listen to the spirits. He gentle hummed in a way the replicated the patterns of the splashing lake water. He never could really become one with the spirits of the water but he drew as close as he could. In all honesty he would have normally been naked and floating in the lake but that might not go over well on this trial.

So Jasper listen and sought understanding to understand better the temperament of the lesser spirits as Svariella herself was to big for him but there were other ways to work with the spirits to protect both worlds. Even as he sat there Jasper could sense spirits around him both in the water and in the air. The crowed was excited and they were bringing there own types of spirits. All watching like they did.

Jasper

~Second Son of Clan Alivilida
~Six feet and Three inches tall
~Brown Hair and Chocolate Brown Eyes
~Embla patterns on left arm that match scares on his right arm
~Aesir Embla, sun on right palm
~Mage Mark moon on left palm
~Rupter Gleam

“Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.”
~ Anne Frank

[Pig Boy]

Taming the Storm

As Brent's feet touched the ground and he made his comment, it was one of the Stormtouched that answered him. The man was touched it seemed by the spirits of lions, and had a man that wrapped around his head and chin. He spoke in stilted nothings, or perhaps profound wisdoms. Either way, most regarded him as a harmless madman around the village. Brent might've noticed him from time to time, coming to stare at the workers as they built the Winter Lodge.

"The Storm has come. Waterless Lightning fills the sky and he sweeps in to wash away the taint." He muttered as he passed Brent by, even going so far as to bump shoulders with him. Sinir didn't seem to enjoy the man, and snarled at him.

Varine rubbed her arms and then let her hands fall to her sides as she approached Brent with a friendly smile, "Thank you so much for taking the Winter Lodge job. Svariella will be most pleased when it is finished." She looked up at the sky, her monotone turquoise eyes turning golden for just a moment, "I wonder what to make of that lightning though? There hasn't been a sign of storm all of the season so far... " She shrugged. "But come let's talk for a moment..." She led him over toward the shores of the lake. He could see the shallows shimmering in all manner of colors, residuals of the rainfall that had blessed Melrath so much in the season.

"I fear the presence of mages will upset some of my people..." Varine said, and then frowned, "Yes, some of us, many of us are mages. However half that many have sparks that have gone dormant since the rains began. They think they might be cured of arcane infection, but I'm not so certain..."



Victor's small group of Syns stood by, ready to take his orders one way or another. The loudest among them was a defier of some talent, named Riogh. He was the first to respond to Victor's command. "Yes, Sir! Not a muscle will move until you will it."

The others among the Syns stood idly by, waiting for the commotion to get underway, and feeling somewhat out of sorts. One of them, an attuner at the low end of competence, shot up in his horse's saddle. He squinted, looking into the woods behind him. "I uh... Don't think we're alone. I'm sensing a strange frequency, coming from the wood." He fought his horse, as it tried to resist his efforts to rein it in. But the horse was panicking. Another Syn rode up alongside him, and helped, catching the steed by the reins and calming it down. "Watch it..."

A deep rumbling sound emerged from the woods behind Victor, but nothing was moving... yet.

It crackled in it's vocal chords a few times, before the sound moved away from them, back into the forest. The creature, whatever it was, made little sound as it moved.



Jasper would feel the presence of spirits all around him. They seemed to have a calm and contented attitude toward those who dwelt in the village. And the Aesir were of course welcome there. Yet, something boiled beneath the surface of the calm. He could feel an almost malevolent feeling rising up among the multitude of spirits all around. Where the spirits dwelt, there was nothing but calmness and tranquility. But in the spaces between? It felt as if chaos was about to unfold.

As he knelt by the water, he would feel the spirits bubbling up. One of them, an air bubble anak, approached him shyly. It's voice, if it could be called a voice, made sounds for him that he couldn't quite make out. But the vague impression of a phrase stood out among the bubbling babble. "Mages begone."

The bubble spirit looked forlornly at Jasper just a moment, before floating off into the distance.

Voices were chattering from the north as the visitors were beginning to arrive at the settlement. It wouldn't be long before they all arrived, and then they'd see what the waters had in store for the supplicants.

[Brent Forrester]

When Brent landed, he caught sight of one of the Stormtouched roaming around. It was a man who his workers had nicknamed “Hairy Leo” and who usually prattled on about this and that. Sometimes Brent wondered if the man could see spirits that others couldn’t, but usually his words were bizarre and confusing. Just like now.

The Storm has come. Waterless Lightning fills the sky and he sweeps in to wash away the taint.

“A storm is coming? It’s definitely been raining a lot. Plus with all of Svariella’s rainbows.” Brent replied in a cheerful manner, although he didn’t really expect any true conversation with Leo. “Let me know if we need to get you a roof!”

Waterless lightning. Wasn’t all lightning waterless? Was a new storm spirit rolling in? However Brent didn’t dwell on it too much. He was more interested in what the chieftess had to say, although he could definitely sense that Sinir was restless next to him. He gave a humble nod at her gratitude. There was not much for him to say on that front. Both the Winter Lodge and the Temple were still works in progress but coming along.

“The lightning… it probably hasn’t stormed all season because of Svariella’s blessing to us.” Brent commented and glanced over at the waters of the lake, as well as the Aesir gathered there. “It is not in her nature to cause thunder, lightning and damage. It is in her nature to heal. But even the tides of weather must turn.”

He felt a little out of his league speaking of spirits and such things. What did he know, really, yet he wanted to sound sure of himself. Or at least have something meaningful to say to the chieftess. Taking Varine’s lead, he placed a hand on his sleipnir’s back and followed her to the shore. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could of sworn he could see his cousin Jasper meditating in the waters with the other Aesir.

“It is possible that a mighty storm spirit has come, seeking to reclaim the skies,” he added pensively, recalling the jumbled words of Hairy Leo.

When she voiced her concerns about the mages, Brent nodded simply. “Not just mages, but Ragnari too. I don’t think the Stormtouched have ever truly forgiven the Ragnari for what they did last Vhalar with ‘the Cure’. Svariella has been far better to them than any mortal. I suppose you were the one who insisted the Ragnari keep their distance?”

By now Brent had noticed a few defining aspects that hinted of Ragnari in the distance. Some just had that militaristic look whereas others had the defining sleipnir of the Valkyrion. He had dealt with Ragnari in the past. In some cases positively, other times very much not. Or at least he had heard quite vividly of their actions in Vhalar.

“If you have need of my assistance, I have had dealings with the Ragnari in the past, and could act as a go between. However, just like the stormtouched, I am wary of them.”

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Template Credit: Navyri

[Victor Amielle]

When Riogh responded to his command, Victor inclined his head, appreciating the other man’s words. He was aware of the fact that some people might have a problem with his being in charge. He was an Outlander who had rapidly risen through the ranks – he still had not become a citizen - and he wasn’t sure if everybody approved of his actions in Niflheim either. This was not the right moment for arguments though, and thus he was glad that his subordinates were concerned with the current situation rather than with him.

He didn’t raise his voice again immediately, but simply shifted his position in the saddle a bit and sat up straighter - he was riding a Stone Horse, a grey stallion rather than a normal horse as Stone Horses tended to be more obedient, easier to control and more trustworthy – and focused his gaze on the shores of the lake once more. It couldn’t be much longer now.

When another one of his subordinates spoke and informed him that they were not alone, he immediately turned his head in his direction though, furrowing his brow slightly as he did so. “What do you mean?” he asked. “What did you sense? Can you attune to that frequency and try to find out more?” he wanted to know. He knew enough about this particular magic by now that he was aware of the fact that Attuners could sense Notes.

The Attuner’s horse started to panic, and Victor grabbed the reins of his own horse more tightly as a consequence and tried to urge it to move slightly backwards – he was not sure how many of the traits of its normal brethren the Stone Horse shared and if certain sounds or the presence of certain creatures could make it panic as well. A few moments later, he could hear a deep rumbling emerging from the woods behind him, and he turned around abruptly.

“Did you hear that as well?” he asked the other mages, trying to keep the worry out of his voice (as their leader, he needed to sound firm and confident). He wanted to believe that it was just a Stormtouched that was sneaking around in the woods for some reason rather than rushing to the water, like all the others, that there was a normal, harmless explanation for what he had heard, but such was unlikely to be the case.

And what more, in the distance he could see the first visitors arrive at the settlement. It was about to start. He hoped that they would be able to prevent the worst. For a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if there were enough Ragnari present. There were so many of them.

[Jasper]

Shaman Aesir

Jasper Rel Ardiechy

Taming The Storm

31 Ymiden 720

Jasper forced himself to focus on his meditation as the felt the presence of so many spirits around him, that actually had been expected and didn’t really bother him all that much. No it was what was behind and in between the spirits that he had to focus around. A large something was penetrating the air around him and all of them. Jasper at first wondered if maybe it was a bunch of anger or upset spirits, but no that wasn’t what they felt like. Even if united in an emotions the anak were separate and distinct. This Chaos wasn’t a bunch of separate and distinct entities, if anything he would say is permeating from a source.

He held his hands and body still even as he continued to hum. It was then that he felt the approach of several spirits and the approach of air bubble spirits. Jasper watched but he also listened to its speaking as it came shyly up to him. Jasper vision grew a bit blurry as he pulled his attention towards the babbling. Eventually one message came across clearly from the departing spirit. “Mages begone.”

Jasper could sense the sadness coming from the bright bubble spirit as it faded away, and he sat for a while thinking about what he had heard. Then he lowered his head closer to the lake and whispered, “Thank you,” and raised himself to his full height his focus drawn away from the various damp parts of his garments. The Aesir turned and looked around his gaze settling upon the woman who he remembered as having been referred to as being in charge. He could still feel the chaos in the air and felt that he had to do something. Slipping on his sandals the young man moved across the distances. He didn’t run, but his steps were stretched to their fullest length.

It was then that Jasper focus came a bit more into the mortal world and he realized that the woman chief wasn’t alone and in fact stood with his cousin Brent. Jasper paused in front of them and smiled at Brent. He extended his arm to grasp the other man at the elbow in greeting of kin. “It is good to see you Brent.” He then turned his attention to Varine. “I apologies for the interruption, but I felt that I needed to communicate what I have found so far.” It was that funny thing about the Aesir. They didn’t have a command Hierarchy like the military where no one made a decision unless told by those who could. You never knew who the spirits would speak to and so they need authority to act as if they were the one chosen they were chosen to do something. So Jasper was doing something.

Jasper looked around, but his gaze was looking beyond his fellow mortals. “The spirits are watching to see what will happen, but there is something beyond that, something trying to spread. A type of chaos, I am not sure how but something like that likes to amplify itself. I fear something is coming and with its coming we will have to fight for order.” Jaspers gaze returned to the two he was talking to. “One of the spirits did speak to me, and all of these mages are related to whatever I am sensing.”

It wasn’t a lot but Jasper felt that giving some warning would help.

Jasper

~Second Son of Clan Alivilida
~Six feet and Three inches tall
~Brown Hair and Chocolate Brown Eyes
~Embla patterns on left arm that match scares on his right arm
~Aesir Embla, sun on right palm
~Mage Mark moon on left palm
~Rupter Gleam

“Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.”
~ Anne Frank

[Pig Boy]

Taming the Storm

"The World all over has a roof, and it has shaken and sent its harbinger." Said Leo. "Best begone if ye know the true mages with trees." And his speech just sort of trailed off into the usual nonsense after that last bit. He walked off, guided by one of the workers to a place where he could rest his head.

Another few lightning cracks split the sky, over the mountains and across the Vale. Varine responded to Brent's thoughts on the weather, though they might seem pedestrian to any other situation, here they were particularly pertinent. Next to nothing that was natural happened without the involvement of spirits, at least most trueborn Melrathi knew that. Varine spoke again, "Many in Raelia have forgotten that this is the land of the spirits. Svariella is afraid with all the influx of outlanders and other peoples, they will turn their eyes beyond, and lose sight of who they are."

She gave Brent a thoughtful look when he offered to act as a go-between with the Ragnari. "Yes, I think that would be best. We cannot afford an incident here, on such a special and momentous occasion. This is the opening of Svartown, whether we like it or not. What happens here will echo into the rest of Melrath's history."

So saying, Varine went over toward the Svarstone, and began meditatingi as she beheld it.



The attuner that Victor told to find a Note shook his head. "It doesn't track. It's not giving me anything but... Notes flying around it, but nothing I can pin on whatever is making that damned noise!"

The Attuner's eyes went wild, as he tried harder, grasping for notes but coming up with nothing.

One of the Defiers in their group spoke up, it was Riogh. "Sir! Spirits aren't susceptible to Attunement magics, could it be we're being surrounded by anak?"

He wheeled around in his horse, and turned to face the woods, ready for anything. Yet if the spirit was an elemental one... "Sir, best get ready for anything, if it's an elemental spirit, my magics won't do much good against it!"

Still, there was a silence in the woods now, and the growling subsided.



Varine was broken out of her reverie by the approach of the newest Augur among the Aesir shamans. Jasper had impressed many among the traditionalists as well as those more liberal minded spirit-guides. His renown had spread even as far as Svartown, although they were wary of the spirit he was said to have awoken.

"Greetings, Augur." Varine said, turning to face him, and then holding out a hand as if to recall Brent. But at the last moment, she let him go where he will.

"The spirits do not like the mages there?" Varine hummed, "It's possible that there is one among them that they dislike for whatever reason... We should inform them of the situation... Brent! Will you tell them what Jasper told us? Perhaps they can be persuaded to make distance from the Svarstone before whatever chaos the Augur warns of breaks loose?"



Into the break, a stream of desperate people came into Svartown, all holding their hands out as if for alms. But they were not asking for nels, they were after the waters of Svariella.

They came in chaotic waves of pushers and shovers. Some among them were sick of disease, others were injured, bearing the wounds of old battles. Yet even more didn't appear at all hurt or sick, and might have been there for other reasons, whether curiosity or...

There were just so many of them, and all of them came on suddenly.

[Brent Forrester]

The strange words of Hairy Leo seemed to echo in his mind. A shaken roof. The harbinger has come. Sweeps in to wash away the taint. Best begone… It was eerie to say the least, and even Brent’s cheerful conversation had not swayed Leo from his ominous words.

The winged horse, Sinir, was restless at his side. The six hooves alternatively pawing at the ground and the sleipnir’s head tossing at the warm gusts of wind. A storm was coming, that was for sure. Brent could feel it in the air. But whether it was a natural force of the spirits or something magical and foreign like the storm of last arc, he could not tell.

Brent nodded as Varine spoke. Yes, the Raelians sometimes forgot that this land was of the spirits. They were too busy with their own affairs and politics. But he was surprised that Varine would be afraid of the influx of outlanders. Svariella had always cared most for those that were misfits or did not belong. Hence being the patron of the Stormtouched. But maybe she too was worried about too many and too fast.

As he noticed his cousin Jasper withdrawing from the waters of Lake Svariella, Brent couldn’t help but notice the almost regal appearance of the dripping robes of the Aesir. Regal? Priestly? Regardless, the young man was solemn and devoted to his work and to his cause. Brent clasped him briefly upon the forearm in greeting. He nodded in acknowledgement.

“It is good to see you, cousin. No need to apologize if you speak on behalf of the spirits.”

The cartographer listened intently as Jasper relayed what he had heard or felt. Brent still didn’t fully understand how the Aesir communicated with spirits, but to even consider contesting an Aesir’s word was verging on heresy. In any case, he trusted his cousin.

Varine seemed to be in agreement, too. There was a chaos spreading and the spirits did not like it. And somehow it was related to the mages. Or maybe the chaos was a separate identity entirely that would soon need to be contained.

“Yes Chieftess, right away!” Brent responded sharply.

As he took hold of Sinir’s reins and tried to calm the winged horse, he glanced over at his cousin. “Thank you Jasper, I will do my best to keep any harm from coming to Svariella and the other spirits.”

Swinging his leg over the Sleipnir’s back, the pair of them took off in a lop-sided trot. The beating of wings took him by surprise, and he clutched the saddle tightly as they rose into the air. Squinting at the swell of people below, the cartographer tried to figure out who were the mages and who were the outlanders and Raelians come to see the Svarstone. There was a cluster of people who seemed a bit more orderly that were definitely not surging towards the lake like all the others. Ragnari? But where were the mages? That’s when Brent realized quite suddenly that not all Ragnari were Valkyrion fighters from the air. They also had mages within their ranks. Even if these were not the mages that Jasper spoke of, it could not hurt to warn them.

Brent steered his sleipnir towards the military group by guiding the reins of the winged horse. It took a couple of tries to signal to his mount to land, including a variety of weight shifts and eventually pulling at both the reins, but at last they thundered upon the ground. Brent stopped before the group, for a moment feeling foolish in front of the most certainly armed military, and then speaking loudly in a clear voice.

“The Aesir, he warns of a chaos that is spreading! Take heed and keep your distance! If there are mages among you, let it be known that the spirits of Svartown are distrustful. There may be one among you that they do not like. And yet, if I understand it correctly, we may need your services to contain the chaos and maintain order.”

Although he had tried to start his message much like the sure words of the Aesir, there was definitely a moment where he had faltered in his understanding and attempt to relay the message. Silently, Brent looked over at the masses of pilgrims and wondered what would happen if they somehow got in the cross-fire. He dismounted and looked more closely at the Ragnari whom he had addressed, hoping that these were the ones who needed the message from Varine and Jasper.

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Template Credit: Navyri