[RP] Averancia: Hero's Call

Satisfied with the purchase, Aundovald rides out of the stable gates with the mare tied on, following in tow behind Sigaric. The young hackney moves with a confident grace, her glossy coat glowing in the rich rays of the late day sun. The premium full-grain leather of the decorative saddle and harness add an undeniable touch of prestige, recognizable even from a distance. Master Aelwynd, though no horseman, would look the part of a noble scholar atop this regal steed. Magnificent.

Aundovald steers down the outward road, putting him on the right facing to scan the entire ridge line and pasture without being obvious about it. He had seen a nervous Sire Galen stealing quick glances to this direction previously. Aundovald hopes that he might catch a glimpse of the watchers lurking afar. Seeing the Stable Master so muzzled and monitored, Aundovald was convinced now that he, and the entire team who had arrived with the Lord Chamberlain, were being followed and under surveillance.

Yet Aundovald still has more material to gather. Now he steers the horses along an eastward-bending street towards the Grand Market.Continuing on with his tasks, Aundovald moves along to the laborer bay near the stage shelter. The rider corps at Redmane's had recommended the place.

Aundovald surveys the candidates and starts conversations with a few. He learns what he can about their background, and checks for experience managing horses and tack. Doing his best to judge honorable character and predict worthy performance, Aundovald picks two sturdy fellows and one energetic youth to hire.

"You men meet tomorrow morning at sunrise across from the guest stables at the Golden Plow. Be dressed for travel with your toughest shoes and coat - take a blanket and a bladder of water at least. We will be on the road and crossing open range, so gather your fortitude. If you have a knife or a club, carry it along."

Reaching into his belt pouch, Aundovald hands three silver coins to each man and one to the boy. "Here is a retainer now. A matching entry for you tomorrow if you perform well at packing and the first day trek. You'll be paid weekly after that."

With a strong step, Aundovald launches back on the saddle and prods the horses to a brisk trot, in the direction of the Inn. Aundovald is in good spirits, now anticipating a hot meal and a night of merriment. Yet still, he commits an alert eye to the crowds and alleys along the way, the notion of being watched still hanging over him like a breathing specter. The sun is low in the sky now, casting long shadows across the narrow streets.

There is one more place that Aundovald wishes to visit. Why was he drawn there to it again?
But he decides against it - for now. On to the Golden Plow.

Ængus settled in to one of the comfortable chairs scattered around the main room of the tavern, reached down to pet Brutus, and considered the days battle. He hadn't done much, to be honest. Between the mounted prowess of Aundovald and the sheer ferocity of Rafn, by the time he arrived, it was all over. He comforted himself knowing that he neither shirked nor hid, but performed to the best of his ability. More than that Father Elion cannot ask.

Aundovald enjoys the cozy and festive atmosphere of the Golden Plough.

Taking another bowl of mutton stew and a half loaf of bread, he decides to attend to his curiosity as he takes back to his seat. "What about you, fellow?", he asks directly, shifting full attention to the wild youth who yet remained so mysterious. The uncivilized wolf-boy had proven to be an expert scout and fierce on the assault. Aundovald had to sort through this enigma.

"You and your wolf overtook those bushwhackers on the ridge as if you were jumping a sleepy pair of mule deer," he says, his complimentary tone apparent. "What is your nature, to move through the forest with such speed and ferocity? Do you have a clan of fathers and brothers who train in this tradition of savage ambush?"

If the boy makes any interchange, Aundovald continues. "Where in Averancia do you hail from? And what is your name, comrade - your name among your people? Come - you must reveal something of yourself. We go to battle together tomorrow. It should not be as strangers one to another."

Aundovald gives another gravy-soaked tear of bread down to Brutus.

"I have a name I call myself." Rafn croaked with a gravelly voice. There was keen intelligence in his eyes as Audnovald asked. The Beastlord enjoyed knowing things other people did not. "But I do not think you would accept it as truth. And as for who my people are, they are you, this is where I come from. I am afraid I have no answers to give you about my past beyond this."

"So instead I will tell you about how I killed those men." Silver came and pressed his snout into Rafn's palm. "I learned to fight from observing wolves. Having been adopted by them and raised by them, I learned to ambush them. Controlling my heartbeat and breathing, moving to cancel my own vibrations. Rolling with the drone of the universe now. Acting. Interacting. Those men wanted to kill, so I did not hesitate. As for the how, the forests in this part of the continent have a particular fungus that promotes growth and vitality in those that consume it. I have been eating it since.I was this tall." The beastlord indicated just over two feet tall. "It is mildly psychedelic, and increases the aggression response drastically. Nine winters have passed since the wolves adopted me, five years ago I was leading many hunts. They were not the first primates I killed. There are others out there. But not like us."

Silver as if punctuating the point looked at the food in Audnovald's hand. The let out a shrill chirp.

"Aengus, what is your notion of it all?", Andovald shifts attention to the hulking shepherd. "We continue our journey on the morrow. In a day or two we may face the horde of beastmen invaders - in mortal combat. You do not equip yourself as a warrior, yet it is clear you are eager to join the battle. Perhaps you should take on a sword or axe - don a coat of mail or a shield in hand. I can go with you to the smith if you like. Fine arms are plenty here in Market Town."

Then Aundovald voices his guess at a possible explanation. "Or is it your devotions as an acolyte priest or monk? Your piety and favor from Elion is also apparent. Are you restricted from warfare for religious purity?""Does the High God Elion seek the defeat and destruction of the beastmen? I should hope it so. Those hybrid wretches certainly do not sacrifice to him - I am sure of it. They threaten the civilization that he favors - a danger or doom to the people who have built his magnificent temples. Will Elion lend mighty feats of power to ruin the beastmen if a devout ascetic like yourself joins the battle? What if a high Bishop would go to war on our side?"

Rafn blinked, his eyes widening as suddenly, completely unexpectedly another ape asked a deep philosophical question.

"Define 'everything.'" He challenged Audnovald.

Ængus takes a moment to gather his thoughts. He isn't used to long conversations. His family was too busy working to sit and talk, and when they had a few moments, they used it for eating and sleeping. The creatures with whom he spent the most time, cattle and sheep, weren't known for their great love of palaver either. Truth be told, I talk to myself, and Brutus, most of all. Father Elion, guide me to find the right words.

Those are a lot of questions, Aundovald. I will try to address them in order as best I can.

I am not a warrior; far from it. I am a simple herdsman who tends flocks of cattle, sheep, and goats, as my family has done for as long as we can remember. It's a simple, honest life; one of which I had planned spending all my days. However, that is not what Father Elion had in mind for me.

One beautiful day, while minding the flocks, I had…well…I guess it was a vision. The actual vision was both somewhat hazy and personal, but I was bade to take whatever skills and gifts I may have for protecting, leading, and shepherding flocks, and use them to protect, lead, and shepherd Father Elion's flocks in Avarancia. The being told me to kiss my parents farewell and head straight to Redstone and present myself to its master as a tool of Father Elion. The being told me to be unafraid of combat; Father Elion cares for all his creations, and he grants boons to those of whom he asks much. I did not become filled with knowledge of war, or even brawling, but I have been blessed with strength and limberness from youth, and so I figure that Father Elion wants me to focus first on protection. To that end, the being took my staff in its hands for a moment in which it glowed a blue-silver light and handed it back to me. I have not had call to use it yet, but I believe the staff will answer somewhat better than it had before.

I know neither how to use the sword or axe, nor wear mail or even leather. I have armor of hides I tanned myself, my "faithful" staff, and a trusty sling. With these I will start. What Father Elion has in mind for me in the future, he has not seen fit to tell me yet.

Here, Ængus takes a moment to refresh himself.

Aundovald listens intently to Aengus's retelling of the encounter with the High God Elion and the empowerment of the hardwood staff. Aundovald had heard something of this tale in the meeting at the Chamberlain's manor, but initially took it as a recount of general inspiration. Many men say that the gods inspire them or move them. Now Aundovald is starting to understand more clearly. Aengus truly means it: that he had a direct encounter with a god who came to stand on the soil - spoke to him and gave him material gifts.

This explains much. If Aengus did receive such power from the Heavens, then it was true: he had no need for steel. What sword could strike down a foe better than a weapon that harnessed the strength of one of the gods over men? What armor could foil a killing blow better than the protection of a god?

Aundovald had to wonder if such an unusual story and boon of power was true. Part of him was doubtful, but then again, something made him think that it could be true with Aengus. He was the tallest and the strongest looking fellow Aundovald had ever encountered - certainly favored by Nature, so perhaps no wonder that he was chosen by a god, and even a great one at that. There was a wise and calm way about the shepherd as well. A certainty of purpose. It was something noteworthy, and Aundovald was now anxious to see Aengus rise against the beastmen with the power of the god Elion at hand.

After the exchange, Aundovald hears the interjection from the unnamed wilderness youth.

"What do you mean?" he asks, not understanding the nature of the command.

"Any notion of "it all" everything all of the magnificent oneness. The I Am. The Beginning. The End."

The Beastmaster cast a hand broadly gesturing to everything.

Ængus steadies himself and continues. As for beastmen, Father Elion is the paragon of order and the beastmen are emissaries of chaos, albeit perhaps involuntarily. The tenets of Father Elion's church do not call for outright genocide of beastmen—although there are some zealots who believe it so.Here, Ængus's mouth tightens almost involuntarily. Father Elion wishes all of creation would return to the light and to order. Nevertheless, one is not obligated to give such creatures the benefit of the doubt, and the purpose of light must triumph over that of darkness. If the choice is between a beastman and the innocent—or even those who may be returned to the embrace of Father Elion's warmth—the choice is clear.
As for mighty feats? I know not. My staff, my sling, my mind, my heart, my life, and my very soul are devoted to the service of Father Elion. However long or short that service may be.
With this somewhat ponderous thought, Ængus returns to his beer, ruffing Brutus's nape.