1629, Fire Season, Illusion Week, Wildday Eve
Context
On the journey up to the battle lines. Session S5W.16.
Events
A week of riding, with some walking, has brought the group up past the top of the Grazelands and into Tarsh. Fireday is dying down to embers, with Yelm bleeding out into a spectacular sunset. Berra sticks two fingers into her mouth, entirely fails to whistle, and just makes a pathetic blowing noise. She looks confused, tries again, and gets the attention of all the horses in the area. Her own walks towards her.
Kolyey is pampering her horse. The horse is rubbed down and fed treats. When Berra whistles, Kolyey looks in her direction.
Berra beckons. She also does the same for Nayale, a few moments later.
Kolyey leads her horse over to Berra. Kolyey salutes Berra when Kolyey reaches her.
“We’re probably not having room in the Temple for the horse,” Berra says sadly. Her own one nuzzles at her neck, and gets an absent scratch on the jaw. “You messed up last week. This week, I want you to help me put together the area for worship.”
On hearing this, Nayale silently reaches for the reins of the other Humakti horses.
Berra taps hers on the neck, and the mare accepts Nayale’s command.
Kolyey says, “Yes, ma’am.” She loops her reins around her horse’s neck and tells her, “Go rest. Battle soon.” The horse walks back to the herd.
Berra gives Nayale a wink. “Just pu’ stakes in for ’em and then come watch.”
The young woman guides the mounts away and sets them to safe grazing for the night.
Berra then gives Kolyey a look. “Right. I’m gonna be about here, with the altar before me. Facing thattaway.” She gestures Northward. “What ways do you know to start this ritual?”
“Only one or two,” Kolyey admits. “Best way would be to separate a space first, then raise the altar. Do you want a circle or a square?”
“Well, in this case, we want a sword. As it happens, the parts down by the point will be for the laity – you’ll end up filling a shape you make, if you do it right. So, separate a space first. How?”
Kolyey draws her own sword and uses it to draw a sword in the earth.
Berra winces slightly, but nods after a moment, supportive. “Classic. You can use rocks as well, or even people. Guards outside and inside, or a line of warriors standing where you need ’em to be. Sticks, spears. Or just cut a shape. Make it big enough for the two of you in the blade. I’ll be up at the hilt, so that’s got to fit me. Altar at the cross-piece, as usual.”
Nayale wanders back over and watches, carefully staying out of the way.
Kolyey nods and continues to work on the ritual space. She almost says something, but swallows it.
“Speak if you’re going to,” Berra says. “I’ll be using my magic, so you won’t be spoiling anything by changing what you’re doing.”
“I wouldn’t want to use a stick,” says Kolyey. “Too earthy.”
Now it’s Nayale who looks like she wants to speak. She glances at Berra for permission.
Berra nods. “It’s the concept of the separation – there’s an in and an out. Sometimes you’ll be on rock, say, or forbidden to draw a sword. Yeah, Nayale?”
“It’s just, using the sword like that will also dull the blade. Maybe even break it. And resharpening it will take time.” She turns to Kolyey with a slightly apologetic look. “No criticism meant, but… if this is the way you prefer to do it, maybe you could have a blade made specifically for that purpose. Then your sword is still safe tomorrow.”
Berra’s expression clearly says that she has opinions there. She keeps them to herself.
“Very good point,” Kolyey says with a smile. “Bit expensive and hard to lug around, though.”
“It can be symbolic. Doesn’t have to be full-sized. Does it?” The younger warrior glances at Berra as if checking.
“It’s the original way of the first Temple,” Berra says, after Kolyey has had a chance to talk. “But we are not those people. Maybe they had magic to resharpen swords, or maybe they just did it themselves. But we put walls up, as a cult, now. An’ more posaically, as Nayale says, that’s going to be a bastard to sharpen. You can put magic on it first if you have time, and that helps. If you’re going to have a weapon to cut with, and it’s not full-sized, you’ll be bending down. That’s going to be a disadvantage sometimes, but a dagger’s still a sword, when it comes to the Rune.”
“Hmm,” says Kolyey. “About how much Bladesharp would one want? I was saving my energy for Humakt.”
There’s a shrug. “About as much as you need. Or if you’re feeling good about yourself and Oakfed, and your blade can burn, use that. Three of us, maybe… well, more than the minimum if you’ve got it, but not much more. If you’re on your own you can just lie in the position of the Death Rune and that works too, or kick the grass down in the right shape. But unless you’re going to start again, keep going as you started. Make it a… thing that sticks together. If you can.”
Kolyey nods. “Do we need enough room for a duel? How many people are coming?”
“Just us. Everyone else is still… probably a day away? Just you two, room to move but not for a repeat of last week, and me.”
Kolyey nods again and keeps working, erring slightly on the roomy side.
Berra follows, keeping quiet, just to make sure Kolyey’s got a good sword shape. “Right. So, normally at the Temple we’ve got three parts. There’s the laity hall, where Lady Graria’s in charge, there’s the main altars, and then there’s everything up in the hilt, where the sword’s controlled from. The harder it is to get to, the harder the mysteries are to understand, generally. The whole place is holy, but out of politeness and not wanting to kill hundreds of people, we don’t show the deep bits to the lay members. Usually, it’s one of the Commanders of Initiates who keeps up those spells and starts the rituals. Swords Jarlai or Orina. The others are generally busy. This time of day, Sword Graria’s making hundreds of Orlanthi stand in groups. What I’m saying is, I’ll take it from here unless either of you want to?”
“No, please do.” Kolyey looks ever so slightly embarrassed.
Perhaps Berra has forgotten just how little connection to the gods the others must have. “Then the two of you come inside, as if you’re coming through the gate.” She walks down to the tip of the sword. “By now you’ll all have found out that other places have different fortress layouts, but we do this like it’s Boldhome.”
Kolyey walks down to the tip and pauses in case there’s a ritual challenge.
Nayale allows Kolyey to proceed first.
Berra just walks in, up towards the altar. “This bit’s already set up,” she says. “Sometimes you choose where to put it and move an altar here, sometimes you find a handy rock in the right place.” There is a flat lump of something that might be dressed stone, half buried. “This is old, and it’ll do. Kolyey, you stay facing the altar for a bit. Nayale, you’re inside the Temple, guarding the door you just came through.”
Kolyey walks in and faces the altar.
Nayale nods and steps into place. She draws her sword, automatically taking up the appropriate guard position. Berra has had her do this before.
Berra steps to the other side of the altar, and kneels to put her hands on it. She begins with a prayer of dedication, telling the spirits around to be gone, challenging for any enemies to stop her, and finally pushing magic through the ready space. The outside shimmers a little, and within the space that Kolyey cut, there is a sudden coldness. Today, apparently, the magic is being shaped correctly. The walls of the sword shape shimmer, faintly, darkly.
Berra begins to tell a story then, about how Humakt was once in the wilderness, and the fighting that he did there. She is not a fantastic storyteller, but it has a basic moral: step up and fight things. Many of the foes he faced were mighty, but many were merely thought to be great, until he approached them.
Then there is a sword dance, and Berra chooses an easy one – in fact, one that Kolyey knows very well.1I rolled a pass on sword and a critical on Dance for Kolyey there.
Kolyey performs the sword dance almost perfectly, twirling and clashing blades. She is in perfect time with the hymn that goes with that dance.
Berra lets Kolyey dance alone for a while, before calling Nayale in to join her. Up beyond the altar, she has her own dance, although Kolyey’s seems to weave in many of the same movements.
Nayale’s swordwork is clean, but it’s just that. There’s no dance, just the motions of death. It works to complement Kolyey’s footwork without drawing attention away from it.
Kolyey doesn’t push the sword work or footwork as hard once Nayale joins her. Kolyey notices the difficulty Nayale has and tries to lead her through the footwork.
Everyone experiences the god in their own way, it is said. For Kolyey, there is one timeless moment where it seems that she cuts as Humakt does, smiting one of his enemies. For her, that cut at the climax of the dance is by far the most important part of the night. For Nayale, there has to be a dedication of some of her magic to the Hero, just as Berra is doing. The Priestess is giving some to Humakt, some to Eril.2Critical worship.
Kolyey has a look of rapture on her face as she performs the last cut of the sword dance. She stands frozen in the final moment of the dance.
Time has little meaning to Kolyey now. The true, perfect cut was a moment of Humakt, the whole dance a thing that lead to being in the right place, the right balance, for that moment.
For Nayale, the approach to the Wyter is led by Berra, and then there is a long moment in which the young initiate is held by the gaze of the entire community. Lord Raven is before her, a sword made of smoke and fire, a slim, elegant warrior, a flock of birds of carrion’s welcome. He nods at her, briefly, even among the noise of battle hymns and the sound of clashing swords.
She returns the nod, somber and devout. She is the sword and the sword wielder. She was chosen by Humakt. She will become what she is meant to be for him.
Kolyey’s cheeks are wet with tears of joy. She might stay like that all night.
The rest of the night passes swiftly for Kolyey, until her sword-stroke ends and dawn comes. Berra just works around her, teaching Nayale a couple of neat bits of footwork, and explaining that the other Initiate is in a trance and it’s probably totally fine really.
Kolyey will stay in her trance until the first light of day hits her eyes .
At that point, Berra does ask, “Are you alright?”
Kolyey blinks as the trance ends. Reverently, she says, “It was perfect.”
Berra relaxes a little, and grins, like she’s pleased and proud that happened.
Kolyey smiles in reply.
Nayale continues to look very solemn. “The wyter looked at me,” she says eventually. “It felt like everyone did. But, I didn’t see or feel my brother.”
“He’s a long way away,” Berra says. “And you can’t always make people out. I just saw it all. No people.” She waves her hands to indicate a mass, not faces.
Kolyey looks drained, but is still trying to remember that moment of perfection. She keeps quiet.
Berra rolls out her shoulders. “Right. Time to get moving. We don’t leave the outline of what we made here, so we’ll kick it over, then see about food. I’da poured out wine, but Kolyey was well gone.” She holds up a small flask. “Which means we’ve got it for our community feasting for the day. Or cooking with, probably.”
Kolyey’s smile is a touch sad, but she sheaths her sword and erases the line of separation.
The last of the feeling of touching Humakt leaves the three of them, although the day is still a good-omened one for duels and setting out for battles.
Kolyey sleepily asks, “Is there anything I should know about before I report back to the cavalry commander?”
“I’ll be taking you in there. Any reports will come from me, and then you might be asked about my behaviour. You know to speak the Truth.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Berra goes off to start getting ready for riding.
- 1I rolled a pass on sword and a critical on Dance for Kolyey there.
- 2Critical worship.
