Heart of Clare

I present one view of the trip to Clare. So much happened over the weekend, that I know I have got the sequence of events wrong in some instances, and forgotten things entirely in others. My apologies. I can only relate what I remember. If I have left out someone or something vitally important, please let me know and I will amend the report as needed. I know others have already made there reports, but this is how I saw it…

Heart of Clare
Late Friday evening saw a slightly bedraggled company of Dragons and some guests from the Lions faction along with Cosaint of the Bard’s Guild, arriving at the village of Ottley. They were greeted like saviours, much to the embarrassment of most. During a night that found the tavern we were staying in assaulted by strange spider like creatures, the villagers told us of their troubles. They felt abandoned by the nobles, and we were handed the responsibility for this. The villagers could not seem to understand that some of us came from backgrounds as humble as theirs. They told us some interesting stories though, and these turned out to be more than just stories, as we shall see later. At one point in the evening, a woman gave birth, much to her horror as well as those assembled, to an abomination, the like of which had not been seen in many an age - a miniature version of the things that had been attacking us all night. They also told of dark deeds and evil creatures lurking deeper within the forest and they feared that the Heart of the forest was being corrupted. The company decided to march into the forest and try to find out what was going on. As we cautiously made our way along the eerily silent path, suddenly the silence was shattered. A voice rang out, declaiming that an unknown queen called her ‘chosen’ to her, and a large group just weren’t there any more – they simply disappeared. The remaining heroes returned to the tavern, confused and more than a little bit worried for their companions, only to be savagely assaulted by more of the foul spiderkin.

Saturday morning, myself, and the rest of those who had been ‘chosen’ found ourselves on a path in the forest it is true, but not the one we had been on. In fact none of us could tell what part of the forest we were in, save to feel that it was much deeper within than we had been. As we looked about us, we noticed a figure standing slightly off to one side. She stepped forward and named herself our guide. She was charged to bring us to her mistress, a Queen of the Fae, for we had been chosen by her to fulfil a quest. After some discussion, we were bought to a sacred grove where the Queen told us that the spirits and shepherds of the trees were being controlled and it was our task to free them. She told us of three items, ‘keys’ which would lead us to the heart of the forest, the seed of a tree, a magical well and the pelt of a golden animal. With little idea how to proceed, we tried what seemed the most obvious course. Cole O’Petra, Sebastian, myself, Meisgyn and possibly some others I may have forgotten (I was rather occupies at the time!), started a rite around one of the trees in the Fae Queen’s sacred grove. During that rite, three of us were granted a vision from Danu. Cole saw the Ents chained in iron, I saw three shadowy figures controlling them from behind, This led us to realise that the trees of the Ents were physically chained allowing the Ents to be controlled, explaining why the Nyads and Dryads had been attacking us. Our defence and the inevitable destruction of some of these caused Kiara no little pain. We reluctantly battled through the forest creatures defending the groves where we finally found the chained trees – and the three Ents who attacked immediately. We also took magical fire from the Firvulag witches who were controlling them, who were the very three I had seen in my vision. As the rest of the dragons held off the woodland creatures and their vile overseers, the ritualists ran to the trees and began unchaining them. We fell more than once, despite the best efforts of the assembled company to keep them from us but time and again we were roused and after freeing first one and then the other two trees, the Ents and all the Dryads and Nyads gratefully laid down their arms and smilingly crowded around to thank us for their freedom. It was then that we noticed the woodlanders gather tightly around a particular tree. It was scarred and ripped apart, yet still living. On closer inspection we realised this was the Sacred Oak, which the Fae Queen spoke of – and its heart was missing! This was, we were told, the work of a spider queen, a witch, who was trying to corrupt the entire land. She claimed to be the daughter of Balor who believed she should have had Medbv’s place, and was now beginning her campaign to become Balor’s right hand. The Fae who had brought us there, then gave us the choice to continue on our quest toward the heart of the forest, or go back to the tavern and rejoin our companions, to return later. We all agreed that going back now was a good chance to find out what the others had learned since we were now faced with three puzzles.

We were returned to a part of the path just beyond the tavern. We hurried inside to be greeted with shouts of joy and amazement from those we had not seen since the night before. The swapping of the tales of our adventures began. It seems that whilst we were engaged upon the tasks set us by the Fae Queen, our companion’s fate had been to be captured by the spiderkin, and taken to their dank cave, where they awoke the next morning. The spiderkin had left them without weapons though that did not deter these brave Dragon heroes from making a bold plan to escape. As they crept through the web-laced cave, they were fortunate enough to come across a cache of discarded weapons. Using these they had fought their way through hordes of spiders and their larger spiderkin, despite many being paralysed or stuck to the web. They even managed to survive the surprise attack of the trapdoor spider. Triss T’yrr had called upon the power of her ancestor Lolth to render her invisible to the spiders in an attempt to sneak past, raise the alarm and bring reinforcements. She had crept carefully through the web and dashed from the cave-mouth as the others continued their struggle.

Having escaped from the spiderkin lair, the assembled company made haste back towards Ottley. On the way they encountered three Firvulag witches outside their hut – and bound upon their garden table was Triss. She had made it no further than this before being rendered unconscious by the Firvulag. The three hags were dealt with and Triss freed and the company continued back to the tavern. Upon arrival they discovered the tavern under siege from the spiderkin, and were forced to fight their way inside and beat off the attack, thus relieving the Siege Of Ottley.

They had barely time to uncork a cask before we arrived in the door. Food was partaken of, tankards were raised, and as much as we could, we tried to understand the events of the morning. One thing we understood too well, barely half the day was done and our reserves of arcane power were already sorely taxed. Our host in the tavern was a rather disreputable chap. An orc. Not that that alone makes him disreputable! However, he himself said he shouldn’t be trusted. Whether this admission had any bearings on what happened shall be for the Brehons to decide. Or maybe Maclan, for there was a baby among the company. One Lugh Sealgheara, son of Cara and true child of Cernunnos, (Unless you ask Malice!). Cara had left the baby in the care of Malice, trusting that as his brother, Malice would take care of the child. As it happens, it became a game of ‘who can get the baby away from Malice’ until that game grew old. At about this time, a couple of traders, gypsies by their clothing, arrived with some questionably ‘valuable’ items to sell. They showed their wares, haggled and were haggled with, though little trade was going to happen this day. Whilst standing looking between the bulk of Osman and Troy, I observed the Orc, his jacket bulging on one side sidle in front of the trolls. He turned to the female trader and both walked away. He returned shortly after, jacket now smooth. When the cry went up that the child was missing, I reported what I had seen. The Orc was immediately apprehended and brought out to the courtyard where Garf, Dag, (who was checking out every item for worth), Rodhri (I think) and several others were stood bargaining. When asked, I repeated what I had seen, Gront the orc was executed for kidnapping the child and the missing Dragon Banner was found on his corpse. The gypsies were executed for their part in the abduction but they stole nothing.. The child was recovered and all was well.

The villagers helped us to figure out the tasks we had to perform to gain the ‘keys’ to the way into the forest. The stories they had told the night before were tales providing the maps to the keys. We had to play a game with a tree. We had to find a magical well, and we had to find the golden pelt. The well we found, though Kalistos had to listen very carefully to the ancestors before he could find it! The pelt we left to Malice, and the game…

We marched forth, and let it not be thought that we had been un-assailed during this time. Oh no. The spiderkin assaulted the tavern relentlessly, and every foray forth was met with harsh resistance. We arrived in a beautifully calm grove, where an Ent greeted us. He wished to play, so a board was drawn in the leave mulch and the game began. The Ent used Nyads and Dryads for his pieces. Kitty the Kender’s pieces were Dragons. She played like a true Dragon, forcing his pieces off the board and won us the acorn. Darkness approached and we returned to the tavern to take stock.

A new order was in place when we arrived back. The Orc had been replaced by… well… to all appearances, the town drunk! He took a liking to one particular young lady, of whom more, later.

A call came. We were needed! The entire party marched, to the call of a Nyad in pain. A shrine was being corrupted and the tree at whose base it lay, was being killed. This was not the Nyad’s tree, but he would not let it die without poring all of his life force into it first. Kalistos was clueless. By his own admission. So we began a rite to cleanse the corruption. At first we only appeared to be making things worse, but then we reached a sort of stable point where we were fighting the corruption as hard as it was fighting us. Abruptly, things changed when someone thought of purging the poison from the water in the shrine. The Nyad gratefully slipped into the tree to recover and we went back to the tavern.

A while later, whilst standing with those at the main door, the back door having long since been barricaded, I recognised the same Nyad as he stepped gingerly from the forest, hands outstretched, a tentative smile on his face. His gift of healing herbs was gratefully received as we were hard pressed at this time.

There came a call. Most were unsure what we had been called for. There was … unease among the scouts who had reported back. We marched through pitch black. Until we came to a gully, wherein lay a sight, which shall remain seared on the memories of all who beheld it. At first we were unsure. What was it that the dim light was showing us? Was that…? As we moved silently closer, it became achingly clear that what we were seeing was Bracken, but not Bracken. This was a broken toy. Each eye noted the angle of her body, impaled upon cold iron. Each ear heard the blood, dripping, the wolves keening, the silence of everything else. Each heart ached for her suffering. The only thing we could do for her, was to burn her as she hung, suspended four feet from the ground by the one thing which all fae fear.

A sombre company marched away from the burning body. The distant howling echoed the horror all were feeling. We returned silently to the tavern.

The tavern was assaulted all evening by Spider Kin and several waves of zombies. Some wraiths even turned up but were dealt with in short order by Kitty wielding her ‘Affec.. Sword’ to great advantage. The dancing Spiders were fun!

Later on the gathered Dragons told their tales, Tales that in some cases had not been heard for many years.


Feathered totems, like those wound into the chains that bound the trees were donned by several Dragons, I myself had picked up one of these and attached it to my cloak, which lay over a bench in the tavern. As I arrived back through the darkness from a call of nature a voice froze my steps. A voice, which claimed to be Kilrath, called down wrath upon those inside the tavern. When it was clear she had gone I hurried into the tavern to find several dragons on the floor being healed. As the voice shrieked its wrath outside each one wearing the token had fallen. It seems as Kilrath cut herself with her sword, Those within felt the blade slice them.

At one point the Nyad whom we had saved at the poisoned shrine appeared hesitant and smiling from the darkness. He brought with him a great gift from the forest, healing herbs which as it turned out, we were going to need.

Since the criteria set out by the Fae Queen had been met, the way to the heart of the forest lay open, The entire company set out, Though the hour was late to make our way there and deal with this spider queen. As we marched through the darkness a bright light burst from the heavens towards the earth. It crashed to the ground not far ahead of us, and when the smoke cleared, five figures were silhouetted against the glow of the meteor behind them.

Attempts at communication were made but before it could be established weather these beings were friend or foe the spiders appeared. They were trying to slip behind us and so we attacked. It soon became that these strange beings, four with a look of fire about them and one who looked as though moulded from the earth itself were protecting the meteor. When the Spider Queen herself managed to slip past using her foul magic and grab a crystal from it, the beings took off in pursuit. Then we were able to recover two of these orbs ourselves. The spiders were many, and we were near overwhelmed. Many lay bleeding our healers desperately trying to be everywhere while making agonising decisions about who to heal first and who must wait. Finally all the spiders were dead, So too were some of our own. Two of the goblin fell, Andor, King of Clare was called back to the ancestors and Jsern screaming defiance to the last threw himself at the enemy with one arm and one leg shattered and useless. He and the others died protecting those more badly wounded than they. Their sacrifice meant that the healers had just enough power left to restore the rest of us ready for the hard nights march ahead. The bodies were left to return to the land a painfully brief dedication all that was possible.

A long hard nights march found us close to the heart. We began to come across nests of the Spider Kin. Some were occupied, some guarded, but all that we found we burned. It was explained to a reluctantly accepting Ferrey, that we were not burning Clare, we were burning away the part that did not belong. Time and again we were assaulted by large numbers of spiders, hissing and chattering, their skin crawling speech at us. Each time we beat them back. Eventually up ahead we saw a large number gathered around a tree. The Heart Tree.

As we drew closer Kalistos cried out that they were performing a rite and so we attacked. We carved our way to the heart tree finding it chained like the others. As some dealt with the Spider Queen others attempted to unbind the tree. Yet more had run to stop a rite at the well close by which was poisoning it. The Spider Queen did not die easily. In fact she didn’t even stay dead the first time. Although cut to a bloody pulp on the floor of red soaked leaves, she was swarmed by tiny spiders who quickly shrouded her in a sticky web from which she rose whole again.

She seemed even stronger this time but Dragon and Lion fought on until not her nor one of her minions were left standing. As the din of battle fell and the returning sounds of the forest mingled with the groans of the wounded and the soft weeping of those cradling fallen friends, out of the soft cacophony same a plaintive cry “Dad, Dad stop playing, Get up!” I turned to see Meisgyn, so recently embraced by the dragons as Dancybold’s adopted daughter, gently stroking his rapidly cooling skin. He had taken on four of the spider kin and slain them all before he fell to the ground. I ran to where Cole his second and long-term friend lay, still unconscious. Grabbing a Healer who brought him round, I pulled him to his feet still reeling from being healed and dragged him to where Dancybold lay, Meisgyn weeping softly into his chest. As the others were hurriedly put to the pyre the customs of his people were observed and we walked away from the battlefield leaving his body seated against the now restored heart tree. We returned from Clare a little wiser, a little sadder and a lot more aware of our responsibilities as herons of the Dragon.

May those who fell in Clare be always remembered for the brave spirits they were.

Dragon Heroes All

 

All Works are © Original Author

(OC Author - Sue Rickard)