Even a Lord Sometimes asks for Forgiveness Redmane learns that strength does not always come from being right, but also from when one is willing to admit they were wrong.

An hour can seem forever or seem like no time at all. Unfortunately, today it seems like no time at all. Redmane has barely had a hot meal and a moment's rest when she heard the Lord of December and Sir Bravil were waiting. So, Redmane once again found herself braving the cold and snow. Once the small group had entered the woods, they met up with Dmitri. Though greetings were tense and wary, no serious altercations occurred.

The long walk through the forest returns, a walk Redmane is starting to know far too well for her own liking. This time, though, there is a variation and Redmane can tell. They're swinging a wider arc so that the circle the village instead of going through it, as they approach the caves. Several hours past and neither the Lord of December, nor his knight, utter one complaint from the walk through the cold.

Finally, Redmane spots the caves ahead. In the next couple minutes, the small group is standing before the entrance.

"This is the cave you spoke of?" Lord December inquires as he lightly sniffs the air. "It smells of death and abandonment."

"Well.. there are the remains of a long ago battle inside," Redmane notes. Looking to Dmitri, she asks, "Are the omegas still in there, or the elder?"

Dmitri crouches down and peers intently in the cave. After a few sniffs and a bit of prodding at the snow, he says, "No, they have gone someplace safer. Their scent is fading."

"Any trace of Thomas returning yet?" the knight asks next.

Dmitri gives Redmane an odd look. "No sign from out here, but that means little," he notes.

"Very well. Thank you for everything, Dmitri," Redmane tells the man. "You should probably go check on your mate and Erzsebet, and then return with any news or instructions from the elders."

"Thomas is as predicable as a storm. They come and go as they please and with varying and sometimes wild intensity," Lord December comments with a shake of his head. "You may as well try to count the number of snowflakes on the ground as predict his movement."

Dmitri stands and arches his brow, amused. "Interesting. I have never been dismissed before," he notes. "If you need me, you know were we are resting," he says as he offers a short wave, then heads off.

"He did go after a wounded monster, My Lord," Redmane notes. "I worry about him, all the same. It should be safe to enter - there are no wolves or monsters there right now, and it should be a little warmer."

"He has hunted many wounded monsters, Knight of May," Bravil notes as he steps into the cave ahead of his Lord to ensure that it is safe. "... and befriended some of them in the end."

"I know, I was his most recent one," Redmane jests, and waits for Bravil to give the all-clear.

Before Lord December enters the cave, he tells Redmane with all seriousness, "It is known that I traveled here on the request of an agent of the House of May. Should this prove to be a trap ... the treachery will be known to all."

"The passageway seems safe. There is little that moves in the darkness ahead," Sir Bravil intones and waves the others to follow as he heads deeper inside.

"I.." Redmane starts to say, then closes her mouth. "The history is on the wall down the tunnel," she eventually offers.

"I am not accusing you of anything," Lord December offers as he enters the cave now, "Merely stating the situation."

"Of course, Lord December," Redmane says and follows behind.

The walk through the cave is much as Redmane remembers, dark with moments of a mossy green glow. Ahead are the cave paintings, the odd figures flickering and glowing on the wall. "I assume that is what you wish me to see?" Lord December asks as he approaches the paintings.

"Yes My Lord," Redmane replies.

"Tell me true, Knight of May. Did you do this out of your duty to Mirari, or because you believed it the right thing to do?" Lord December asks, not yet going to the paintings.

"The two are the same, My Lord," Redmane replies. "You certainly have the right to know about this, after all. And.. the goddess of the wolves also happens to be my own, from long ago. My duty is to Her, as well."

"What about your duty to your heart, Redmane?" the Lord of December asks. "A knight is not all duty and one to follow an order because it was so commanded by their liege. You sometimes must also act as a voice of true justice, even if your Lord has forgotten it." There's a wry smile on the wolfish Lord's face as he adds, "Even Sir Bravil has been known to 'dress me down', if he did not believe my decision was honorable."

Now Lord December goes to look at the pictures ahead.

Bravil rolls his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Everyone needs a thump now and then," the large man notes.

"I'm still new to the Court, My Lord," Redmane admits, with a grin. "But I am glad that I did not have to drag you out here by your ears, all the same. I do follow my heart, when I know it to be right."

And now for the next several minutes, the Lord of December walks along the forgotten gallery of memories. He reaches out, petting his calloused fingertips trace over the stone as if it would allow him a moment to touch those that play out an old tale. For a time, his expression is impassive and unreadable ... but as he reaches the last few images, the ones that repeat in motions the long gone past, cracks appear in the visage of the noble; moments of actual emotion.

Whispering to Bravil, in part to give December some privacy, Redmane says, "Thomas told me of the battle between the fey and dwarves that occurred here. There is still a good bit of iron and silver to deal with among the remains."

"It is funny how time and stories change, Knight of May," the Lord of December comments. "The official history of my family states that we were chosen to rule these lands because we were better than all other families that came to these lands." Again, he reaches out, tracing along the face of the woman in the last image. "When it was merely an act of compassion that selected us. Somehow, in my heart, I know these pictures show truth."

"I know of the battle, I believe, at least from legend. It would have been long in the past, before I was born," the large Knight notes. "Why tell me of this? what intention do you have for the iron and silver?"

"That compassion may not have made you better, but that is not to say it did not make you worthy, My Lord," Redmane says. To Bravil, she notes, "The bodies need to be taken care of still. The silver is dangerous to the wolves, and the iron to the fey. If we face a monster in these caves, be wary of your surroundings."

"Where are the wolves now?" the Lord of December asks.

"In their hidden city," Redmane answers. "I am hoping Dmitri will return with permission to enter, or else bring one of their elders to meet with you. I do want you to meet Erzsebet, who is the mirror of the woman in these histories."

"You will not take me there without their permission, then?" the Lord asks.

"My Lord, I am not sure that I have permission to enter, save for Dmitri's invitation to visit his lair. His mate is their healer, and is caring for Erzsebet and one of the wolves who was injured when the demon attacked," Redmane explains. "Plus, these people have been fooled into hating you as much as you thought ill of them."

"Mm," Lord December muses. "Let us return to the entrance and wait, then. I wish to meet with them."

Redmane nods and heads back for the cave entrance, hoping Dmitri's news prompted some response.

Unfortunately, at least an hour passes before Redmane spots Dmitri returning. He waves to the group, then says when he is closer, "Some of the pack are not happy that the Lord is this close. But, if his mission here is truly one of peace, then he is permitted to enter the town." With a glance to Lord December and Bravil, he adds, "And given only two came, I would consider that an act of peace."

"I'm not considered a potential enemy anymore then?" Redmane asks the wolf-man.

"Not unless you would prefer to be. The elder has extended an offer to return you to wolf form, should you wish it," Dmitri answers.

"How.. generous," Redmane says, and actually blushes a bit despite the cold. "Let us meet with the elders then. And how is Erzsebet's recovery coming along?"

"You should find the answer to that by visiting her. Go to her first and I will make sure the elders are assembled," Dmitri comments, "Do you know the way?"

"I can find it, I think," Redmane notes, thinking back. "If that is what My Lord December wishes to do first, that is?" she asks, turning to December.

"Yes, it is. I wish to meet the woman who fought alone for a long time against both worlds," Lord December answers, "I owe her at least that, if not more." He motions for Bravil to follow.

"This way, My Lord," Redmane says, leading the way to the healer's den.

The walk is quick and quiet. Redmane can feel eyes watching her, but no one intercepts the two knights or the noble that walks with them. For his part, Bravil tries to look less menacing and keeps his hands away from the great sword he carries. Lord December walks and surveys the land, as if learning what torment the land has faced. In short order, they find themselves entering the makeshift infirmary.

Stateroom of Decay
This room was once an infirmary of sorts, or perhaps a morgue, judging by the equally spaced stone beds. Along the walls are row after row of old bottles and clay pots containing an odd mix of strong smelling herbs and liquids. Though the room is crumbling as are all buildings in this ancient town, this one has been kept generally clean, probably to help keep the rate of infection from wounds being treated lower.

The inside of the infirmary is nearly as silent as a morgue when the four first enter it, but as they make their way around the stone slabs, they can hear Valeska murmuring to someone. "You gave us quite a scare, young one...no, no, don't try to sit up yet, you're not strong enough...let me help you drink this..." Drawing closer to the sound of the healer's voice, now they can see her supporting Erzsebet's head with one hand and putting a bowl of water to her lips with the other. Valeska's appearance has also changed somewhat, as she is now wearing an old shift that once used to be white, probably to give some modicum of modesty for the Lord's coming.

Redmane clears her throat to let Valeska know they're here - although once she thinks about it, it's probably unnecessary. "Healer Valeska, may I present you the Lord of December," she says.

Lord December reaches over and lightly pats Bravil's shoulder. "Wait outside, old friend," he whispers to the battle-worn knight.

Bravil merely nods once and ducks through the doorway, returning to the chilled air.

Likewise, Redmane stays near the entrance unless summoned, as much as she wants to go to Erzsebet's side.

The elder wolf gently lowers her charge's head back onto the makeshift pillow and nods gravely to the fey Lord. "My mate told me you would arrive presently," she offers simply. "You are welcome here." Erzsebet, however, turns her head swiftly as Redmane speaks that name and gazes at him, wide-eyed and wondering.

"Thank you," Lord December says with a small bow of his head, "I am honored." His yellow, and somehow tired, eyes go between the healer and Erzsebet a few times before he finally asks, "May I approach?"

With a small smile, Valeska looks into Erzsebet's face and says, "That decision is up to you - do you feel well enough to speak with our guest?" The other woman hesitates for a moment, then, her chin trembling a little, she nods. "Then you may," the healer tells Lord December and withdraws a few paces.

Lord December pushes his cloak back from the gray armor he wears and approaches the injured woman. There he kneels down beside the stone table so that he may sit closer to eye level with Erzsebet. His eyes drift to the lump in the meager coverings that shield her from the cold, then back to Erzsebet's own eyes. "Your friend Redmane tells me you have been fighting a long battle alone against your own people in an effort to stop a war between us," he says quietly ... and almost gently. "And that you were injured fighting an old enemy of these lands."

Erzsebet nods again, her own yellow eyes never once leaving the Lord's face. In a weak voice, she tells him, "I did what I could to prevent the fey of these lands from being changed into those of our tribe. But I was not always successful...and there was only so much I could do alone. I am...sorry that it was not enough."

The Lord of December lifts his hand as if indicating for Erzsebet to stop. "You need not apologize to me, child of the forest. You have done far more than those with greater power have," the lord admits and lets out a quiet sigh. "It is I who should be asking for your forgiveness."

The fingers that are resting on top of the thin, leather blanket twitch, as if Erzsebet wanted to reach out to the fey kneeling beside her, but dared not. "I just...I just wish that I could have met you sooner," she says in a voice tinged with sorrow. "Before the rift between fey and wolves had become so wide...and before our numbers became so small that some of our elders felt the need to take new pups by trickery and force."

"Now that that rift will be closing, you'll be able to increase your numbers.. the old-fashioned way," Redmane comments.

At this, Erzsebet's eyes flicker briefly to her friend's face, and she gives her a small smile.

The Lord of December unhooks the cloak from his shoulders and slides it off. Gently, he drapes it over Erzsebet's body in an attempt to bring her more warmth. "Much in life seems to be a wish or a desire to right things or to make a moment of pain never be," the Lord says, "But such is never the way of things. But, all that matters is what happens from this point on." There he grows quiet as his rough fingertips brush lightly against Erzsebet's cheek. "What matters now is where we go from here. Please do not dwell on what could have been. You have met me now. You are of these lands as much as the fey, if not more so. You deserve the protection of the Lord as readily as those who live in the town. The creature that tore a great wound between us will not escape justice any longer. It will not face my soldiers while I sit safely in my castle. No, this time it will face me," Lord December promises. Then with a glance back towards Redmane, he appends, "And my friends."

"It seems susceptible to being bitten, My Lord," Redmane notes. "But I would not recommend the flavor."

Erzsebet gasps just a little at Lord December's touch and her eyes slide briefly closed...but in the next moment, she is gazing back up at him and smiling fully for the first time. "I thank you for your help and your protection, Lord December. Had I not been injured, I would have gladly gone with you to face the monster again, but I think you will be well-aided by the warrior who stands behind you. Perhaps the tracker can assist you, also...if you can find him." Her brow creasing slightly in confusion, Erzsebet looks to Redmane now. "Where has Thomas slipped off to, do you know?"

"Tracking the prey as we speak, Erzsebet," Redmane notes. "Once we assemble a few of the stronger wolves, I'm sure it will make for a fine hunt. The important thing is that wolves, fey and.. I.. cooperate in bringing it down. That weakens it the most."

"I am sure wherever he is, he is either in trouble or bringing trouble," Lord December notes with a moment of a bemused smile. "Would that there be time, I would stay by your side until you are well," he now tells Erzsebet, "But I must go speak with the Elders and finish the mending that you began. If you permit it, I would like to visit you again."

A very slight flush colors Erzsebet's forehead and cheeks, but she smiles again at Lord December. "I would like that very much. Thank you...and may Cerridwen watch over you and keep you safe. May She protect you all," she adds, looking at Redmane once more and taking her into the blessing, as well.

"I'm certain she'll be watching over us," Redmane promises and grins.

The walk through town is ... strange. All the wolves have slunk back into shadow; even their eyes cannot be seen as the two knights and the Lord pass. When the reach the cathedral, the door is open and the guards are not present. Still, there is no scent of danger so the three head into the ruin.

The Circle of the Fallen
Once a great cathedral to an ancient Goddess, this room has become the den of the elders. The center of the great room is an immense, smooth-stone floor. Once it must have been brightly polished marble with granite inlay ... but now it is dull, a shadow of its former self. A half-circle of granite is placed flush in the floor ... no, the symbol of the crescent moon.

In the center of the room stands the elders. The old woman Redmane has often spoken with stands before all, the spokeswolf of the group. Lord December nudges Redmane lightly and asks, "Will you introduce me? They know, and I assume, trust you."

Redmane clears her throat, and says, "Children of Cerridwen, I present to you your long lost kinsman, the Lord of December." It occurs to her then that she never heard the chief elder's name; while in wolf form, individual scents seemed to be identification enough.

"Thank you, Knight of May," Lord December says as he walks towards the white-haired woman. Once there, he bows his head to her. "I have come to bring an end to the rift between us. Your packmate, Erzsebet, has been fighting long to stop what had begun here. Indeed, if it were not for her efforts, and the efforts of her friend, the Knight Redmane, I would have destroyed this place," he says with a hint of sadness in his voice. "And such would have been a great injustice. The Knight Redmane speaks of a being of shadow that seeks to destroy both of us and I believe her words to be true. I ask of you now, will you put an end to this and once again stand with me as allies and family?" The Lord of December then does something that seems to shock the wolves. He kneels down before then, head bowed. "And I ask your forgiveness for not protecting you. I have failed in that duty, but I intend to correct that now."

"You've all heard the story from the omegas by now," Redmane adds. "Are there any among you who doubt the existence of this demon and the hatred it holds for you?" she asks the assembly.

The old woman actually takes a step back, her expression wavering. She certainly didn't expect the Lord of the lands to ask her forgiveness. Finally, though, she steps forward and places her hand lightly upon his shoulder. "We were both fools, and stubborn ones at that," she says, "We both owe two very determined women for making us see what each of us may not have wished to see." Around them the gathered elders mumble and growl softly ... but none of them will meet Redmane's eyes; answer enough that they believe and feel shamed for not listening sooner.

Lord December rises, standing tall and resolute. "Let us bury the mistakes and stand together once more. We have a hunt to do, and a monster to fell," he says firmly. As the other wolves growl in agreement, hackles rising ... there is a high-pitched shriek that fills the air. The entire building starts to rumble and bits of debris rain down from above, causing the pack to scatter and Lord December to retreat back to Redmane and Bravil.

The wolves and the Lord moved none-too-soon as a section of the ceiling collapses, great chunks of stone crashing to the floor and sending fragments everywhere. Smoke and shadow pour through, followed by gleaming red eyes and a hideous maw of red teeth. Splatters of black ichor hit the floor and spray out as the creature comes tumbling through to the floor below ... and in the middle of the chaos Thomas is riding in its back! He's got a rope wrapped around something in the shadowy mass and pulled back tight, using it to keep his balance. In his right hand he wields a dagger that drips with more of the black ichor. Grinning maniacally, he declares, "Sorry I'm late! This one just didn't want to cooperate! And if you think horses can give you saddle-sores ..."

Drawing her blades, Redmane says to Bravil, "This is one tale that nobody will believe was not exaggerated!" And then she's lunging forward...

"Can he once enter a room without causing destruction?" Bravil grumbles as he draws his great sword and heads after Redmane. Lord December too is charging, sword drawn. And the pack ... all have now taken to wolf form, snarling and ready to descend on the nightmare of shadow...

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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.