Spring 1220: Cuaidaitheoir and Nuallán

(Author's Note: Adventures will be written up in single updates like this, while other things that happen will likely be grouped in seasonal updates)

Spring swept across Witch Mountain quite suddenly, bringing the potent scent of wildflowers, the burst of greenery Hibernia is so famous for, and in their wake, Gallchobar. The bard had left Witch Mountain in autumn with a cart full of some of the greenstone of the cairns, promising to return in spring with the profits and any rumors he could find. 

Having traveled through Wicklow and Ossory as well as Meath, the bard brought (deeply exaggerated) tales of the resistance of the mountain clans against the English, which gratified the English-hating Ciardha, and rumors of magical aid to their forces, which piqued the interest of the magi. Closer afield, he brought news of the Tailten Market Fair on Lammas Day, which some whisper is occasionally visited by fey merchants selling strange wares, and that some in Kells speak of a fíorláir, a true mare of some mystic potency, having been born at the stables of Delvin, an English castle known for its annual horse markets and races. 

With these tales washing over them, the people of Witch Mountain set to work in their first true year of covenanthood.

Cuaidaitheoir:

With most of his sodales set to study in spring, Cuaidaitheoir instead decided to fulfill his season of obligation as Realm Officer, and resolved to cultivate good relations with one of the many supernatural creatures of Ireland. While deeply interested in the fíorláir spoken of by Gallchobar--the acquisition of which would be an incredible boon to the covenant--the Delvin horse market was held in summer, and so he put those plans on the shelf for now. Instead, he resolved to investigate the nearby legends of faeries. According to local myth, Witch Mountain itself was the property of the Cailleach, the divine hag of winter, also known as the Hag of Beara. While modern magi knew the reality of the Cailleach to be a breed of faerie hags, the myths surrounding the Cailleach and Witch Mountain painted her as particularly potent, which gave Cuaidaitheoir some slight worry.

 

This being said, however, they also painted her as becoming far less active on Imbolc, traditionally the beginning of spring in Hibernia. The Irish magus suspected he might find her incapacitated during her off-season, perhaps with a steward to maintain whatever realm she had nearby, which would likely be easier to treat with.  However, he also knew that faeries were not precisely his specialty, and so he induced Nuallán, who reluctantly assented despite his trepidation about treating with a powerful fae, to aid him in seeking signs of her. 

 

Nuallán knew that many farmers in Meath practiced a traditional sort of folk magic--weaving corn dollies from the last of the harvest corn and sneaking them into their rivals' fields in order to force them to house the Cailleach for the winter--and thought they might find clues there, given the obvious signs of her presence near Witch Mountain. With some judicious investigation of unlucky farmers, they were pointed towards an old crannog lying in Lough Ramor, to the north of Witch Mountain, where it was said the divine hag rested and miraculously de-aged throughout the warm season until winter came again and she began aging once more. 

 

On the journey, which took naught but a few hours, they came to a place Nuallán knew to be called Cnoc Fola, or the Hill of Blood, after it was nigh-baptized in the blood remains of hundreds of battles, just on the edge of the Lough. There, the two spied, in the waning hours of the day, two disorganized bands of trooping faeries, clearly playing the roles of ancient raiders, falling to combat amongst themselves. It rapidly became clear that they would need to cross the battle and perhaps resolve it to gain entry to the Lough: any attempt to go around was blocked by brawls between fae warriors. 

 

Though not particularly talented in combat, Cuaidaitheoir knew enough of Perdo Vim to battle the fae. The Pralixian quickly got to work, using Dreadful Bane of the Fae to great success against any that blocked his passage, while hurling insults in Gaelic to the braver ones, Nuallán trailing in his wake uneasily. The magus, despite his weak frame, cut a surprisingly intimidating figure, the crowd of warriors, though still battling, parting around them like the sea.

 

This, however, was not enough: their champions, one a mighty, birdlike warrior wielding a keen-looking spear, the other a monstrous, twisted humanoid with a mighty club of wood, were not swayed by this display of valor. If anything, they were intrigued to find a new warrior on the field of battle and approached the two mortals with menace in their eyes and hearts. 

 

Here Nuallán stepped forward, having Sympathy with birds, and used his faerie arts to beguile the creature into defending them. Though it was laced with glamour, his pleading words, imploring the warrior to protect the safety of a humble monk and his companion, seemed to convince the creature, and it heroically turned to face its monstrous foe as the two mortals swept onwards. 

 

It was at this point that Cuaidaitheoir finally had the good sense to attempt to hide within the crowd, Nuallán being protected to an extent by his fey attunement, and used Veil of Invisibility to finally make his way to the edge of the Lough, past Cnoc Fola. Unfortunately, his lack of grace led to a few stumbles into a handful of the fae warriors, quickly met by swift jabs and punches to the empty space in which he hid. When the spell wore off as night fell fully, Cuaidaitheoir was nursing several bruises and cuts, though more injurious to his pride than his body. Turning behind them, the two found Cnoc Fola silent and brooding, and themselves now having passed the first trial. 

 

Next came a more time-consuming occupation: actually finding the crannog spoken of. While the Lough was not terribly large, there were more than a handful of crannogs within it, they found. From the shore, the lights of occupation and even a few Christian markers could be seen on some, which neither man was sure meant that it was not the home of the Cailleach. Nevertheless, Cuaidaitheoir was resolved to find her dwelling-place, and so the two resigned themselves to as meticulous an examination as they could make from the shoreline. 

 

This they did for hours until the night began to grow cold and clear, and so the two resolved to camp and rest for a few hours before continuing. Cuaidaitheoir attempted to find wood for a fire, but all was wet, and so the two were forced to sleep close for warmth, shivering in the cold, early spring night. As dawn crept close and the two awoke--more for lack of warmth than for gain of rest--Cuaidaitheoir, growing desperate, used his Second Sight to scour the shore of the Lough, aided with a spontaneously-cast InVi spell to find any regiones in the area. 

 

Finally, a success at last! Before his eyes was unveiled an invisible pier just near where the two had finally reached the Lough, that stretched out into the lake to a great crannog, hidden from the eyes of those without such mystic capabilities. With confidence restored at last, Cuaidaitheoir led his companion to the door, and was about to boldly open it when Nuallán pushed a corn doll, taken from one of the farmers they had spoken to, into his hands, and encouraged him to offer it as a gift. 

 

Thinking better of his boldness--perhaps reminded of his failures throughout the night--Cuaidaitheoir instead politely knocked, and the door swung open to reveal a dank, dark interior, filled with incense-smoke. Holding the handle of the door was a tall, human-looking creature: although at more than Boagane's giant-blooded height, he was certainly not fully human. With broad shoulders, bright red hair, and a thick neck, he introduced himself as Muinreamhair, steward of the Cailleach, and asked what business they had at her summer home. 

 

Cuaidaitheoir, with an abundance of cautious charm, proffered the corn doll as an offering, and introduced himself and Nuallán as wizards, come to pay homage to a great and powerful magic-worker, and to acknowledge her power as the architect of their new home. His words may have been too much, however, for the giant seemed to grimace at his flowery words, and raised a meaningful eyebrow at the mention of Witch Mountain now being inhabited, but nevertheless waved them within. 

 

Inside, they found a veritable mystic paradise: dried herbs in neat rows organized in shelf after shelf, bubbling cauldrons of suspicious brews, fetishes and charms and fae approximation of druidism, all in abundance, in a space much larger than the outside of the regio had indicated. In the center of this otherworldly crannog was a large hole in the floor, perfectly circular, creating a pool that seemed to flash-freeze, break into chunks, melt, and flash-freeze again in a continuous cycle. Within this pool was a desiccated, aged thing that both men surmised was the Cailleach of Lough Ramor. Though she seemed withered beyond age--more mummified--there was a sense of power in her beady black eyes as they regarded her two supplicants. 

 

With one hand she accepted the gift from her steward, and inspected it, then idly tossed it amongst her other fetishes and charms. There was a tense silence as she regarded them, and Nuallán nearly spoke up to apologize for their intrusion when Cuaidaitheoir stepped forward. He had been well-trained in rhetoric, and it was that training that he now demonstrated, launching into an impassioned speech marveling at the enormousness of the Cailleach's reputation across Ireland, praising her many works like the cairns at Witch Mountain, and entreating her to show naught but the barest hospitality for two humble wizards who had only yet begun to grasp at the palest shadow of her works. 

 

The hag, and even her gigantic steward, for all his coldness, seemed impressed by the Pralixian's eloquence, and after some consideration, she bade the two men sit a while, and enjoy the hospitality of her home, and tell her what news they brought of the warm season (this last said with a drop of disdain). And so, while Muinreamhair served bitter tea and cakes--some of which Cuaidaitheoir snuck into his pocket to examine later--the magus told her of what he knew of the English invasion, the politics of the native Hibernian magi and the Order, the rumors and tales brought by Gallchobar. 

 

At the mention of Gallchobar's name, she almost seemed to light up, and for a moment, the wrinkles seemed to fade and the eyes light, and, learning that they were companions of the bard's, insisted that they return again and bring him, for the Cailleach had felt quite ill-at-ease without his poetry and his tales. Though internally taken aback, Cuaidaitheoir generously agreed, and promised to return with the bard in tow. 

 

After this day of pleasant conversation, the Cailleach gently, but firmly bid them leave, and return in wintertime with Gallchobar, when she could be at her best for him. She supposed, as an aside, that they could return in summer as well, if they had news worth sharing--but certainly not to bring the handsome bard. And so, the two mortals set out back towards Witch Mountain, having made peaceful contact with a powerful fae lady and come away none the worse for it.

 

It was only after he reached the covenant once more that Cuaidaitheoir realized that the luscious-tasting cakes he had squirreled away could be converted into a pawn of Imaginem vis.

 

Brief Mechanical Explanation:

 

Hard Difficulty (Ease Factor 15)

Fey Origin=Lord

Very complex (3 challenges) 

 1st Challenge: Combat (2 successes, 1 failure)

 2nd Challenge: Thriller/Wilderness (1 success, 2 failures)

 3rd Challenge: Legal/Diplomatic (2 successes, 1 failure)

Rewards: 3 (18 Natural Object build points, converted into a Vis source that produces 3 pawns of Imaginem vis/yearly) 

Loss: 1 (rolled a 10 on the Loss table, and increased a minor covenant hook, Faerie Court, into a major one, Faerie Landlord)

 

 ---

 

I realized the story got away from me a little, but I honestly got quite caught up in imagining this dramatic fae battle, with a foul-mouthed Gaelic wizard shouting his way through it, backed up by an uneasy monk. It's actually surprising how drawn into the story I've been getting. Anyway, the covenant has discovered a new vis source--cakes from the hag, 1 pawn collectible in spring, summer, and winter--but unfortunately, although they don't know it, the Cailleach has been reminded that by right of legend, she is the proper landlady of the covenant. And sooner or later, she'll come a-knocking.

 

Next time: Cornelia goes on an adventure, then bookkeeping for Spring!