Camping on the plains - Jerr and Bel prelude
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As the last notes drifted into the night sky Jerr turned to find his son watching him. "There, that is done."
"I still don't get it, dad. You don't worship Lathander or Tempus but you sing to them twice a day." Bel looked up from the fire, hand close to his bow and axe as he looked around.
Jerr smiled. Amith had taught Bel the ways of combat and they were deep habits now. "I sing for the people, Bel, not for myself. The tribes worship several Gods. Who am I to say that one tribe or religion is right and another wrong? I am a skald, not a priest or judge. A skald works for the people around him keeping them on track and helping them. Dawn once said that the priests and shamans were the souls of the tribe but the skald was the conscience."
"Dawn?" Bel looked to his father curiously. "Did I ever meet him?"
"No. He was a mighty cleric of Tempus, like your mother. To see him lead a battle in great golden armor and axe held high would make your heart sing. I haven't told you about many of the Heyokarr, since I left them . . . and they seem to have scattered to the winds as well. It was like Dawn was the soul, I was the conscience and . . . well the heart of the tribe left as well." Jerr hung his head sadly. Now we are a scattered people and I am without a tribe . . . .but I am still a skald.
The hand motion was subtle but Bel saw it and laid hands to weapons as his father indicated. he looked about and saw nothing but then he heard the measured tread of someone coming up the slope. The slow light step meant that it was probably not an orc, most of them had learnt to give the camp a bit of a wide berth. An elderly man, carrying a staff came slowly into the ring of firelight and Jerr nodded.
"I greet you, Shaman."
"I greet you skald. May I share your fire?"
It was obvious that they were speaking on a formal ceremonious tone so Bel kept silent and watched, slolwy scanning about just in case this was a distractor for an attack from another direction.
"You may. Have warmth, food and drink." Jerr pointed to a space and passed across some jerky and a canteen.
"I thank you." The shaman slowly took a bite of the jerky and a single sip of the water before sitting. Bel could feel the tension ease off and he looked closer at the shaman. Tall he was with remnants of what must have been a massive build when he was in his prime. He carried himself in a certain way that Bel had learned to associate with people whom his father and mother respected, ones who would know and do the right thing at the right time.
The fire crackled softly and an orc grunted in the distance. Jerr nodded to Bel who took up his bow and stepped to the edge of the hill and sighted into the darkness. An arrow whistled off and then there was a gurgle and the normal night sounds were once again peaceful. Bel returned to the fire and smiled silently at his father.
"He is still young." The shaman observed. "Your son?"
Jerr nodded, proudly. "His mother taught him the ways of weapons . . . I am but a simple skald."
The shaman snorted. "Simple? I think not. Our tribe lost its skald to the crystals. When he returned he was not the same. He would not sing, would not eat . . . .he took the soft path."
Jerr hung his head. "Many were lost to the crystals and some never did come back. Have you nay youngbloods who might train? My son is learning the old songs from me, but I would not turn away one of your tribe from the lessons. I made an oath to keep the old ways alive . . . "
"I know. The spirits have told me of your oath and the sacrifices you have made because of it. We may have youngbloods who could train but that takes time and . . . "
"And you have need of a skald now?" Jerr finished the sentence. "I don't know the death lays for your tribe."
"No, not for an end, but a beginning." The shaman replied with a smile. "It is time for our youngbloods to do their spirit quest. Now they could do it in silence but we both know that is not our way."
Jerr smiled. "No, it is not." He stood and rolled his drum to the ready position. A deep boom rang out from the drum. "Have they been trained?"
The shaman stood as well and held his staff horizontally before him. "They have."
A second boom rolled out across the plains. "Do they know the risks?"
"They do."
A terrible roll, like the thunder of a storm erupted from the drum. "Then have them purify themselves. I will come with the setting sun of tomorrow." An orc chose, poorly, that moment to try to take the camp while the occupants were distracted. Jerr struck a louder note and the orc turned and fled in blind panic.
The shaman lowered the staff and gave a tired smile. "Thank you." He looked to Bel and nodded slowly. 'Your son may also take part."
"but but . . " Sputtered Jerr. "He is not of your tribe!"
"YOU are the skald of the Nars. You have chosen to have no tribe. I say that this makes you of all tribes, not of none. You and yours are Heyokarr, Featherlight, and any other tribe that has an ounce of sense will add their names to the list." He stepped back and once again raised the staff, but now to the right side. "We will await you with the setting sun, skald." And he turned and walked off of the hill and into the night.
Bel watched with his large half elven eyes as the Shaman went back up the stream path to where the Featherlights made their home. He then looked at his father who, in turn was watching Bel. "What is a spirit quest?" he asked after a minute of silence had passed.
"It is when a youngblood passes into manhood. To do that he must face the most dangerous enemy he will ever meet. The one who will pose the greatest risk to his survival. And he must overcome this enemy. I will show the way, take them to where they need to go, but the quest is an individual one. I am a guide but the quest is theirs . . . and yours if you wish it."
Bel thought for a moment. "Why did you not speak of this before?"
"I had no tribe. I would have taken you on the quest one day but there didn't seem to be a hurry. But this is a singular opportunity. . . if you wish to take it. I will not force such a thing upon you."
"Father . . . should I? Could I?"
"You are a bit young, in elven years, but old enough and well trained in human years. You can if you wish. But the purification would start now. We will be silent for the rest of the day, no food, only water. At the chosen time you will follow me and then follow the lead of the other youngbloods." He looked very stern. "Do you agree and do you wish this to happen?"
Bel stood straighter, he had not seen this side of his father very often. The voice was one of command and power. "I agree."
The smile that blossomed on Jerrs face was a mix of pride and love. He nodded and they both sat down to watch the fire . . . silently
//may be a second part prior to the rescue
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*Word spreads quickly Jerr the Nars Scald singer of daybreak and issuer of nightfall has returned! Children and Adult alike gather as he enters with his wife son, and those faithful friends who did brave cold climits and frostbitten noses to bring him back. A few bruses on his stomach and head tell that Amith has already welcomed him back in her own way and dished out her punishment for being gone so long.
Although happy for the Scalds return two of the group seem distant and quiet Cike and Silinia. Questions of what they faced are pushed aside as the weiry group make for their homes and comfort of a roaring hot fire side. The towns people egerly prepare for the morning waiting for the first cries from the Scald as he ushers in dawns morning light. ((Unless of course Amith tires him out too much to wake up in time. The Elders of the Town are quick to make bets on what will be the case come morning.))*
//If your doing the write up let me know MND, if not I can do a bit of Cike's take on things. And Thanks alot GobbleGobbly that was an Awsome Event!
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//see even a vet like jerr camps the plains
hugs jerr
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Apologies for the first one being so long . . . . I got carried away.
The night was uneventful, and quiet. Jerr sat by the fire singing odd bits of old songs and polishing his drum. By morning each rune gleamed and the skin was as tight as could be.
Bel and he exchanged smiles as the sun rose and Jerr, out of consideration of his son's fasting, also skipped the days meals. The day passed quietly with them not being noticed by the occassional patrols, be they human, elven or orc. A the sun approached the horizon they moved off of the hill and up the stream that lead to the lands of the Featherlights.
Past huge broken walls and into their deeper lands they went, escorted by warriors of axe and bow. The fires ahead burned bright and the shaman waited for them at the edge of the light, greeting Jerr.
"Come brother, have food, drink and warmth." Jerr took a single sip of water, nibble a bit of bread and moved into the circle.There was muttering from some in the crowd but that was silenced by a glare from the shaman. Jerr did not waste any time but slung his gear onto his pack so he would have his hand free for drumming.
BOOM. The single note echoed through the valley. Boom Boom. "Are the youngbloods ready?" he called in a strong clear voice. Five braves of the featherlights stepped closer, and at a nod from Jerr, Bel joined them. "Are they pure of heart, of soul, and clear of purpose?" Jerr continued. The applicants, followed by Bel, nodded.
Jerr looked to each in turn and smiled. "You undertake a dangerous journey. I can guide but each quest will be your own. We will go high, and then we will go deep, deep within YOU." BOOM The sudden boom of the drum made all of them jump and the echo flash of lightning seemed almost planned. [Boom boom the echoes called back]
"How you act, who you are will set the terms of your quest. I will take you to the gate and I will wait for you . . . until you return or I know that your return will not happen." One youngblood paled slightly at this.
Jerr started to drum in earnest and sang an ancient song of growth and of testing as he lead the questors off into the hills, always higher and higher. After a time the music faded almost from the fire but an edge of it seemed to linger, as though a bit of the music had been left behind.
