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The Trefaldwyn Chronicle - Dark Ages Pathfinder
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<blockquote data-quote="Dr Simon" data-source="post: 6143284" data-attributes="member: 21938"><p>Winter, 600AD</p><p></p><p>It is a harsh January, but the hall of Dinas Derwen is warm, heated by the firepit in the centre and by the cluster of bodies, of Lord Llewellyn's court and many of the court of his cousin Meirion, here on a visit. The boar has been roasted and served, the mead and spiced ale drunk and the bards have sung their tales. All due courtesies have been observed and the hall is in a relaxed mood, clusters of warriors, womenfolk and lordlings gathered talking, sometimes voices rise spontaneously in song or laughter, sometimes fall into silent contemplation.</p><p></p><p>Lord Llewellyn has called you all together at the head of the hall, beneath the great oak-leaf tapestry woven by his wife.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #008000">"Ah,"</span> he says, <span style="color: #008000">"there we are. I've asked you here to meet with Lord Meirion, who has a little problem of a supernatural nature. Meirion <em>bach</em>, these are some of my advisors who have served me well in such matters. May I introduce Gwyneira, daughter of Lord Olwen who sent her to me as his representative, if you can believe that, but she's served me better than a hundred knights. They say she has the blood of Annwyn running through her veins, and that Nimue herself was her great grand-dam.</span></p><p><span style="color: #008000"></span></p><p><span style="color: #008000">"And this is Myfanwy, come to us from Ynys Mon, trained by the last of the druids and wise in the old ways. It is said she can speak with the birds of the sky, the beasts of the field and the very trees and rocks.</span></p><p><span style="color: #008000"></span></p><p><span style="color: #008000">"And this fine man is Quint ap Gloff, one of my trackers, come to us all the way from beyond Rheged, he can track a sparrow by starlight. Now then,"</span> Llewellyn looks around his court. <span style="color: #008000">"There are a few more I was expecting, hopefully my boys can find them in this throng."</span></p><p><span style="color: #008000"></span></p><p>Meirion looks at the three dubiously.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #FFD700">"Foreigners, women and pagans, cousin?"</span> he asks doubtfully. <span style="color: #FFD700">"No offence,"</span> he adds hastily. Women and pagans maybe, but it never does to insult a magician. <span style="color: #FFD700">"Is this the best you can offer."</span></p><p><span style="color: #FFD700"></span></p><p><span style="color: #008000">"From what you told me, Meirion <em>bach</em>, it sounds like you need someone who knows the old ways. Your Christian Brethren haven't been able to help. Perhaps the old gods will."</span> He turns to the three before him. <span style="color: #008000">"Will you forgive my cousin his rudeness, shame upon his beard, and hear what he has to say?"</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Dr Simon, post: 6143284, member: 21938"] Winter, 600AD It is a harsh January, but the hall of Dinas Derwen is warm, heated by the firepit in the centre and by the cluster of bodies, of Lord Llewellyn's court and many of the court of his cousin Meirion, here on a visit. The boar has been roasted and served, the mead and spiced ale drunk and the bards have sung their tales. All due courtesies have been observed and the hall is in a relaxed mood, clusters of warriors, womenfolk and lordlings gathered talking, sometimes voices rise spontaneously in song or laughter, sometimes fall into silent contemplation. Lord Llewellyn has called you all together at the head of the hall, beneath the great oak-leaf tapestry woven by his wife. [COLOR="#008000"]"Ah,"[/COLOR] he says, [COLOR="#008000"]"there we are. I've asked you here to meet with Lord Meirion, who has a little problem of a supernatural nature. Meirion [I]bach[/I], these are some of my advisors who have served me well in such matters. May I introduce Gwyneira, daughter of Lord Olwen who sent her to me as his representative, if you can believe that, but she's served me better than a hundred knights. They say she has the blood of Annwyn running through her veins, and that Nimue herself was her great grand-dam. "And this is Myfanwy, come to us from Ynys Mon, trained by the last of the druids and wise in the old ways. It is said she can speak with the birds of the sky, the beasts of the field and the very trees and rocks. "And this fine man is Quint ap Gloff, one of my trackers, come to us all the way from beyond Rheged, he can track a sparrow by starlight. Now then,"[/COLOR] Llewellyn looks around his court. [COLOR="#008000"]"There are a few more I was expecting, hopefully my boys can find them in this throng." [/COLOR] Meirion looks at the three dubiously. [COLOR="#FFD700"]"Foreigners, women and pagans, cousin?"[/COLOR] he asks doubtfully. [COLOR="#FFD700"]"No offence,"[/COLOR] he adds hastily. Women and pagans maybe, but it never does to insult a magician. [COLOR="#FFD700"]"Is this the best you can offer." [/COLOR] [COLOR="#008000"]"From what you told me, Meirion [I]bach[/I], it sounds like you need someone who knows the old ways. Your Christian Brethren haven't been able to help. Perhaps the old gods will."[/COLOR] He turns to the three before him. [COLOR="#008000"]"Will you forgive my cousin his rudeness, shame upon his beard, and hear what he has to say?"[/COLOR] [/QUOTE]
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