A Glimpse of Historie While searching for a way to sneak out of the town, Redmane and Thomas uncover a mural of the history of the pack

Moving the carcass of a deer isn't easy when you have hands. It's even more difficult when you don't. It takes the better part of the afternoon for the trio to drag the remains closer to 'town'. Even more complicating is how to hide it without the scent being noticed by the other wolves. The end solution is that they locate a small overhand of rock surrounded by cedar trees. The overpowering smell from the wood does much to hide the coppery scent of blood. So ... now three three rest for a moment on the outskirts of the ruins.

Abnehmenvolf
Once this must have been a proud city wrought of marble and granite, but the Years have not been kind. Buildings now crumble and waste away in the snow as a once proud people of the lands, Cerridwen's Children they called themselves, now huddle amongst the decay. Some are in their wolf forms as they lope slowly through their home, some appear more fey-like, at least on initial glance. But, those yellow eyes betray the wild creature that lives beneath the skin. Many are emaciated and weak as well, though they strain themselves to never show weakness. Mixed amongst them are stronger, younger, looking wolves, and all of those bear one thing in common; each wears a circlet of iron tightly locked around their necks.

"You've been all over these lands and know most of their legends by now, don't you Thomas?" Redmane asks as she rests in the shade of the overhang.

"All the common legends and many of the uncommon ones," Thomas answers as he sniffs the air lightly and looks towards the town ruins. "Why?"

"I was wondering about the dwarves," Redmane answers, and noses Thomas' iron collar. "Nobody else could have forged these collars. Are there stories of dwarves having lived in this region in the past?"

"Yes, there were. I believe these were probably fashioned as a method of torturing fey prisoners," Thomas notes rather grimly. "Some of the caves around here connect to old ruins and passageways. Most of the major chambers have collapsed, though."

"Could Lord December be after their legacy here then, instead of acting out of extreme paranoia?" the red-and-black wolf asks next. "I am having trouble accepting the sheer stubbornness being shown by him and the elders. It would make more sense to me if the wolves were trying to protect something tangible."

"/You have fought fey for a long time and you have a hard time understanding the stubbornness of fey?" Thomas has to ask as his head rolls and he looks back at Redmane. "/There is little left of value in the lower caverns. I've ... well, been in them before./"

"Can you read the dwarvish language?" Redmane asks next, with a flicker of hope in her eyes.

"Well, yes. Some of it, anyway," Thomas admits. "Oberia taught me their alphabet. Why do I not like where this is going?"

"The key to opening the collars must be a dwarvish object," Redmane reasons. "Assuming that there is a way to open them at all. It would serve the elders just as well if they couldn't be opened."

"Fair reasoning. And there has to be some manner to open them, for how else would they have had them apart in the first place," Thomas points out.

"That doesn't mean the elders know how to open them; they could have found them that way," Redmane points out. "Do the surviving tunnels lead anywhere?"

"I don't know about the ones in this specific area, but the ones further away from the ruins don't lead to much. One lead to the ruins of a great hall. Another to a series of tombs," Thomas answers, "Erzsebet may know more about the caves near town."

Erzsebet, who has been oddly silent throughout the entire conversation, finally looks in the direction of the other two wolves. Is it your desire to go into these tunnels? she asks Redmane.

"If they can provide an escape route, I would like to know," Redmane replies. "Also if they have more of the collars hidden in them."

"You sound more like a Hawk than a Knight," Thomas feels the need to note.

I have seen neither an unexpected exit branching off from any of them, nor smelled any iron collars there, Erzsebet replies. Still, I have not been through all of the passages. Just...certain ones. I will take you to the entrance I know of if you wish.

"Please do, Erzsebet," Redmane asks, wagging her tail slightly. "I suspect there is an escape route that the elders know about."

"Not going to show us the inside of them? Are they dangerous?" Thomas asks. "Not that it would deter me, of course. But, it's always nice to know if certain doom is ahead. Means I have time to think of appropriate witty remarks."

Erzsebet gets to her feet and shakes herself briefly, ridding her pelt of snow. No, the tunnels are not dangerous. I simply have no desire to see them again. Come, let us go. With that, the wolf lopes off, skirting town and circling to the left.

Redmane gets to her paws and follows along.

Thomas takes up the rear and heads along after Redmane. He even keeps his jaws to himself and doesn't try and nip her tail.

After keeping to the knife's edge of forest and ruined town for several minutes, Erzsebet leads the other two downward at last, over ground that becomes increasingly more rocky and less vegetated. Then, behind a group of barren oak trees, the three see the black mouth of a cave looming in front of them. Here is the place, Erzsebet says, stopping. I will leave you to your explorations. When you are done, meet me at home. I think...I would welcome a warm fire more than this place.

"I look forward to a fire as well," Redmane says, and bows her head to the other female. "Thank you, Erzsebet."

Thomas casts a look to Erzsebet, ears flicking. "I will keep her out of trouble," he promises the wolf girl. "Come along, tufts, let's have a look around," he tells Redmane, grinning and tongue hanging from the side of his mouth. He saunters into the mouth of the cave, tail swishing.

Following behind, Redmane asks, "What did you mean by that 'thinking like a hawk' remark back there?"

"Instead of approaching things by wanting to just beat on it until it gives in, you're looking for alternate solutions. Most knights tend to favor direct confrontation, not exploration and learning," Thomas explains as he looks over his shoulders briefly. As the sunlight from the mouth of the cave falls away, their eyes begin to adjust. Glowing moss that twists and curls along the ceiling provide a soft, greenish, tint to everything. The walls are worn smooth in most spots, but here and there thin lines still betray the marks of ancient pickaxes and chisels.

"Hmph," Redmane remarks. "Is that what you expected me to do then? If that were the case, I would have fought instead of becoming a wolf."

"I didn't know what to expect from you. I barely know you," Thomas points out. "So far, though, my first impressions haven't been wrong."

Redmane passes and tilts her head, looking at Thomas. "Oh? Should I ask what those where?" she comments.

"Only if you want honest answers," Thomas notes as he continues onward. In short order, the all the sunlight is gone, leaving the two wolves bathed in only the soft green light.

Sniffing the air, Redmane tries to scent if there have been other wolves down here recently or not. "I can handle honesty, Thomas."

The air is musty and stale. It doesn't smell like anything has been down this way in a while. "You impressed me as someone who was trying to hide from something, possibly herself. Someone who has little appreciation of their self worth, as evident by your comments on fighting monsters for food and by your meager possessions. As in ... you see yourself as worth little, and therefore keep meager things. You also seemed like someone who could use a friend, and could use an eye looking out for you now and then," Thomas answers quite honestly. "And as someone who is scared. Want me to continue?"

"There's more?" Redmane asks. "Since the tunnel is dull, please continue."

"You are carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders; a lot of guilt," Thomas adds. Up ahead the stone walls look ... different. Instead of plain stone, it looks like something is drawn on them.

"Is that a dwarven writing?" Redmane asks, coming up to look closer.

"No," Thomas answers as the two draw closer. It's a mural. The style is primitive, as if painted with rough brushes. It's a conclave of Wolves standing around a statue of a woman; they are all bowing to the statue.

"Their goddess," Redmane says. "Cerridwen."

A little further down from the current picture is another. Wolves hunting through the wilds ... in this one they crouch at the edges of the wood and stare out at peculiar creatures; thin and tall people, pale skinned with ears drawing upward to points ... fey.

"Hmmm, that seems all too familiar a meeting," Redmane comments on this drawing.

Another picture follows that one. This time it is of the wolves watching the fey build a crude town in the wild. And the next ... a curious wolf drawing close to this town, sniffing, examining it from the shadows.

"I didn't think Lunafell was so old," Redmane notes. "If that is the same town."

"It's their history, Thomas reasons, "When they first met us. Well, my kind."

"So they were wolves first," Redmane guesses, moving on to the next drawing.

The next series are all of this singular wolf as it watches these strange creatures than reshape the wilds. The wolf becomes more bold, daring to come to the town walls during the day. The fey in the picture point at the wolf.

"Hmmm, still looks peaceful enough," Redmane notes.

The next picture finds the peace broken. While the wolf continues to examine these odd creatures, it is attacked by some great monster, a creature of all fang and shadow. The fey retreat behind their walls as the wolf battles...

"This one.. is confusing," Redmane admits, looking at the monster.

At that, Thomas just shrugs. The next scene shows the wolf fallen in the snow, a pool of red around it. The creature of shadow's claws are raised high, poised to strike the final blow.

"A bear perhaps?" Redmane suggests, and moves to the next drawing to see what happens.

A feather plume sprouts from the forehead of the shadow. A lone fey now stands on the field of snow, bow raised. The next picture has the fey now between the shadow and the fallen wolf.

"The villagers fought off the monster," the she-wolf notes, nodding her head.

The next picture shows the fey carrying the injured wolf into the town. There this fey cares for it; binds its wounds and stays by its side. This time the woman who was a statue seems to be watching over the two, though the drawing is faint and indistinct.

"I wonder how many of the pack have ever seen this," Redmane notes.

The next several are just of this fey and the wolf. The first are the fey waving farewell as the wolf returns to its home in the wild. The next shows the wolf returning from the wilds and sitting outside the gates of the town. They fey comes out to meet with the wolf ... and the series continues from there; the two are inseparable. Again, the shadow of Cerridwen watches over them.

"Do you suppose that man is the first Lord of December?" Redmane asks Thomas as the move along the mural.

"Possible, I suppose," Thomas muses. The next scene .. the wolf stands before the statue of Cerridwen, alone. Though there is no movement and no words written, the wolf's eyes still manage to say much. A request. A wish. A plea.

"To become fey, I imagine, is this wolf's wish," Redmane suggests.

The next picture provides the answer. The fey who once saved this wolf has come upon his friend pleading with the statue. Only this time, the statue has come to life. It stands between the pair, looking at both, hands spread to them.

Redmane looks at this one closely. "Perhaps they were both changed."

The next picture ... moves. Through some ancient magic, it flows and shifts as the statue speaks. "The ways of magic are the ways of change. Everything has its time, everything lives, everything dies. Even a God will fade into Historie when their time is at an end. When the fey walked upon the last of my lands, I knew my time was falling away from me and my children. And yet ... beyond even the expectations of a goddess ... I have found peace and hope. This fey, this man, who was willing to stand for the wild ... and this of my children, who was willing to brave the unknown and come to know them. They have taught me a lesson, that it is not an end .. but ever more of the changing world. There can be unity between the world the fey bring and the old world of the wild. Take my hand if you are willing to share of each world; to be part of both and to love both," the goddess Cerridwen says. Without a moment of hesitation, the man and the wolf place hand and paw into hers.

"The Goddess of Change and Rebirth," Redmane says, and even bows her head to the image.

Thomas, through this, remains silent as he watches history unfold before them. The figure of the fey shifts and warps ... and soon two wolves stand side by side. They run, they dance, and they nuzzle, beneath the watchful eyes of the Goddess. And the next moment, two fey stand in each other's embrace. They both still bear marks of the wild, yellow eyes and grayed hair ... but fey they are. The image swirls as it draws in closer. The man bears a marked resemblance to the Lord of December, regal and tall, chiseled features. He smiles as he looks adoringly to the woman in his arms. She is a shorter and stocky woman with fierce yellow eyes. Those eyes sparkle with the joy of running free as she returns the man's gaze. Something tugs at both Redmane's and Thomas; the woman looks like their friend, Erzsebet. There are differences, but the angle of the jaw, the tilt of those ears, and those eyes ... they look so much like Erszebet.

Looking to Thomas, Redmane asks, "Do you see the resemblances?"

"Yes," Thomas says with a short bow of his head.

"She's of the same line," Redmane says. "She's one of December's descendants."

"Allow me to ask of you, my children," The Goddess says, "That when I am gone, you will not forget what each of you learned from the other; the beauty that both worlds offer. When I am gone, you will be all that is left to protect these lands and their people ... my people. Let from this day forward the fey and my children be as one. This is what I ask you: Take up the mantle of these lands, rule them as Lord and Lady. Forever keep the wild children and the fey as one family, let the love that blossomed between you two forever light the way."

"But... what went wrong?" Redmane ponders. "How did the current mess come about?"

"The first Lord and Lady of December were blessed by Cerridwen. The Lands of December were born out of the love of two from different worlds," Thomas says as he shakes his head sadly. "And now they war with each other. Both have forgotten where they came from."

"What kills all, Redmane, without mercy?" Thomas asks Redmane, "What is the one thing that is the true equalizer above all else?"

"Death," Redmane says. "Time."

"Even memory is lost in time. I know most of the legends of the houses and I have never heard this one. I think the Lords of December forgot where they came from. It wasn't a divine gift because of some noble deed that they came to rule. It was because they discovered how to love the land and all its people," Thomas says as he now looks at the ground.

"Well.. can we use this?" Redmane wonders. "Would they believe it? Would they change course even if they do believe it?"

"Are you asking if the wolves would believe it, or if the current Lord of December would?" Thomas asks. "The answer to both is, I don't know. Which would be the one willing to risk everything and extend an offer to simply ... talk?"

"The wolves first, since they're here," Redmane notes. "We'd have to show this to the rank-and-file, then to the elders."

"Why hasn't Erzsebet shown this to them?" Thomas has to ask. "Or has she?"

"Maybe she didn't want to believe it," Redmane says. "Or thought it would be seen as an attempt to usurp authority, since she most resembles the founder of the pack."

"Whatever the reason ... you're going to ask her, aren't you?" Thomas asks Redmane as he now looks further down the tunnels.

"/Someone could use it to claim she was a traitor, perhaps, in league with the fey," the wolf-knight adds. "/I have to ask her if she's seen it, and what she thought of it, of course. But let's explore further. There might be more./"

Thomas nods slightly at that and heads further into the tunnels, leaving the shimmering images behind.

"I'm still hoping to find an escape route," Redmane says. "I don't want to believe the elders are really so foolish in their confidence."

"May you too find peace, daughter Muirenn," Redmane hears drift through her mind like a breeze as Thomas moves ahead, "Learn from this history; be willing to show your soul to others. Do not forget."

Redmane freezes for a moment, her hackles rising. "Cerridwen?" she asks.

"They don't necessarily need an escape route," Thomas is somehow heard to call back, "They just need a keep with supplies to outlast a siege, you know. One thing I know a dwarf can build well is a wall few could penetrate."

Maybe it was just Redman'e imagination messing with her. She doesn't hear anything more.

Shaking out her fur, Redmane hurries to catch up to Thomas.

"Moving somewhat slow, aren't you?" Thomas observes when Redmane catches up. Ahead the hall exits into a much larger room.

"I.. had to pick a pebble out of my paw," Redmane explains.

Thomas looks at Redmane for a moment. "Ah, of course," he says then heads out into the larger room. The remains of a great hall surround him. Once immense stone pillars now lie in ruin upon the carved stone floor. Dust is everywhere ... as well as bones. The broken arrows that stick out of the piles indicate something horrible happened here long ago.

"Dwarves don't use arrows, do they?" Redmane asks as she looks around.

"No," Thomas says as he heads into the room. He noses one pile of thin bones, adding, "Fey." He's oddly silent as he continues further into the room, sniffing carefully. When he reaches the center of the room, he goes rigid, and his hackles rise. Slowly, his head starts to shake from side to side. "No, not this place."

"What is it?" Redmane asks as she hurries over to Tom's side.

"I just ... " Thomas says and now won't look at Redmane. "There should be a passage to the north," he adds and starts off that way.

"You've been here before?" Redmane asks, still following.

"A long time ago," is all Thomas says. True to his word, the outline of a crumbling door is ahead.

Redmane looks at Thomas now, noting his body language and scent. "You fought in this battle?" she asks.

"Down this passage will be a split. The right passage heads deeper and leads to an underground river. Three miles from here it reaches the surface," Thomas says, "The left passage leads to the living chambers and storage rooms. Trade was carried out using the river."

Thomas' scent is odd. The only thing that is obvious is he's very uncomfortable.

"Are the passages still clear though?" Redmane asks. "We should check."

"Which one first?" Thomas asks. "Or would you like to split up and check both at the same time?"

"No splitting up!" Redmane insists. "We should check the storage area first."

"Everything is long dead down here. We would be in no danger to split up," Thomas says, "But as you like. This way." The wolf heads through the crumbling archway. True enough, two dozen feet ahead, the passage splits.

"The elders could be using the supply room for siege preparation," Redmane points out.

The hallway branches left. It's a long walk down a crumbling corridor lined with the bones of warriors clad in decaying armor. Dwarves wear rusting iron armor and the remains of the fey still bear their glinting silver chain. The air is still musty down here, so if there had been any storing, it might be masked. They eventually come to a rotting wooden door hanging by broken hinges. Beyond are ... carcasses of of dead animals, dried and hug from the rafters.

"So, unused," Redmane declares. "What happened here? What is the story of this battle?"

"Stupidity," Thomas grunts. He doesn't seem inclined to elaborate.

Redmane sniffs at the mummified carcasses, and gives Thomas a glance. "You know, when I first came here I didn't realize the people of Mirari were fey?" she comments. "They seemed so... mortal. Civilized. Not like the fey I remembered. The sidhe would stand at a crossroad at night, and challenge anyone who came along to a duel. They would fight until dawn, waiting for their opponent to show the first sign of fatigue. It's what I thought of when I first met you, Thomas. That you were challenging me."

"So, you saw me as an enemy," Thomas comments as he sits back on his haunches.

"Enemy?" Redmane asks. "Not at all. Why would you say that? Even friendly warriors would challenge one another. The sidhe were like that; they lived for challenges, either in combat or some other field. It's why I asked you about your heritage."

"I only challenge myself. To find new places, learn all I can about a people. Be the first to walk on an unknown shore. I'm an opponent I can never beat, and therefore must always keep trying," Thomas says. "Why do you tell me this?"

"Well, perhaps that is not entirely true. I encourage others to try and strive to do better than they believe they are capable," Thomas grudgingly admits.

"Because of something you said," Redmane notes. "That you understood the bloodlust of the monster. If that's true, then you've fought before.. and enjoyed it. There is no shame in it."

"There is when you are responsible for a massacre," Thomas notes as he stands and heads back the way they came.

"Then do you understand why I resist 'giving in' to this body?" Redmane asks, following along.

"Your body does not define you as a monster, your mind and actions do," Thomas notes.

"The elders say that the longer one stays like this, the more their minds will adapt to it," Redmane notes. "And this body brings out urges I've fought long and hard to suppress. So please understand my position, no matter how miserable I seem to be making myself."

"Look at it as a chance to deal with those urges and come to terms with them," Thomas suggests with a small shrug of his shoulders.

"Do you come to terms with a storm, or an earthquake?" Redmane growls. "Do not condescend to me! You think I feel myself worthless? Well that is the legacy of being an omega, Thomas, and what I would spare these captives from if I can."

"I'm not being condescending; I'm being honest. Every moment in life is a chance to learn and grow from. Looking at unpleasant events in life in that way makes them more ... bearable," Thomas notes as he pauses and looks over at one of the corpses. "This place is dead because of me. I didn't just fight in this battle, I caused it. I ... dealt with what I did by trying to remember it as a lesson and something I would never do again. It gave purpose to something horrible and it kept me from curling up and wasting away."

"And how often did you think of it before you saw it again just now?" Redmane asks.

"You never forget some things," Thomas answers. "I remembered it when I was being beaten while telling them I wasn't their enemy. I remember it every time I meet a new people or culture."

"Good," Redmane says, and catches up. "For me, it is every time I look into the face of a fey."

"Dwarves and Fey never exactly got along. Border skirmishes, raids on towns, and so on. Every one would escalate to another. After a while the original reason for a long-standing war is forgotten and it just becomes an endless series of revenge attacks. This one was mine. They killed someone I cared deeply for," Thomas notes, "And out of anger I tracked this place down. I wasn't content with just finding the raiders, I found their families. I wanted them to feel the same pain they inflicted on me. It was stupid, it was pointless, it solved nothing. Revenge doesn't bring people back and it doesn't ease the pain. I know about the river because that is how we got in. If there are boats, it's still a way out, too. Perhaps the elders plan to use that."

"If they don't, then perhaps we still can," Redmane notes. "And afterwards, I need to return to the temple."

"And now I try to teach people to try to understand each other. It doesn't undo my mistake, but it at least gives it purpose if I can prevent things like it from happening again," Thomas adds with a shrug. "It's also why I don't see you as a monster. No one has a perfect past. What is done cannot be erased. But what matters now is what you do next. I presume you will want to visit the temple alone."

"I need to renew my vows upon my sword," Redmane notes. "I'll not be speaking to any elders."

"That doesn't really answer my question. Do you wish to do that in private?" Thomas asks as he heads down the right passageway now. The smell of water is ahead.

"It doesn't matter," Redmane replies. "I don't know if I will need someone to watch my back or not."

"I didn't know how private you considered such pledges," Thomas comments as the pair head down a set of stairs. Ahead is the gurgling of water. In the low light, they can just make out the outlines of boats floating on the water.

"How old are those boats?" Redmane wonders, and tries to get a closer look.

Not so old as to make them not float. They seem relatively safe up close. No obvious signs of serious rot.

"I think I've seen enough now," Redmane says. "Do you want to come back later and bury the bodies?"

"It isn't something you should have to deal with. If there is time, I will return and bury what I can," Thomas says as he already starts back up the stairs.

"I can help," Redmane offers.

"I ... why do you want to?" Thomas asks.

"Just because you're willing to do it alone doesn't mean you have to," Redmane says. "I should be there because I'm your friend, and to bite your tail every so often."

"Being my friend is a dangerous thing," Thomas warns, "Because I will continue to push you. Not because I'm trying to beat you, but because I want to see how much you can shine."

"You don't think I'm shiny already?" Redmane asks, in a tone of mock-indignation.

"I think your tail is entirely too good looking, which means I've been stuck on four legs far too long," Thomas grumbles.

"That is just my natural animal magnetism," Redmane claims, and heads out to the hall of murals.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.