[CLOSED] Spring 1221 - Arrivals (Bran Fhithich)

[Keehnelf]

March 11, 1221

It was still the height of summer when Bran departed Ireland, seeking. The wisdom of the Hibernian Tribunal had failed him, and the deepest learning of his teachers there were not able to subdue the spirit that seemed forever at his heels.

Arriving in Paris just after the start of fall, Bran was able to consult with Desidar, the eldest of the Magi of the Normandy Tribunal, who after three days of interviews and examinations, finally sighed and whispered the name of Salvatus. Though an eccentric wizard, Salvatus would no doubt be able to get at the root of young Bran's troubles and advise on a course of action to resolve it. The challenge being, Salvatus was Master of a Covenant on the far bounds of the Normandy Tribunal, nestled in the mountains above the Rhine. The journey would be long, but possible before the winter snows if Bran left soon.

Fearing to lose two or three seasons in the crowding of Paris, Bran set off at once, electing to take the southern land route through Basel rather than the rive route to Strasbourg, because of the rumors of Church zealotry that surrounded that place in recent years and could spell trouble for one like Bran, traveling alone, despite his mostly normal appearance.

Bran's transport was nearly to Basel when the early winter arrived. The cart made it across one of the last ferries to traverse the Rhine before snow and ice closed off the road and river traffic for the next five months. He settled in to the young Jewish Quarter, a haven for travelers and outsiders, and dove into the study of the handful of texts he had brought with him as company for the journey.

Life passes in an uneventful series of cold and dreary days in the guest house common room, or walking the mostly empty streets of the small, walled city, until one morning in March when, sitting in a crowded tavern alone at a table, a new stranger, seemingly fresh from the road and anxious for a hot meal and lodging, politely takes a seat alongside him--a first during the whole long winter! This is Cugel the Clever, on the way from his last score, trying to return to the Verdant Springs for payment upon delivery but slowed--and now stopped--by the weather.

Cugel has no reputation or lore related to the Order of Hermes, so he doesn't actually know specifically that his client is a Magus. He has his suspicions that the fellow is up to some kind of sinful occultism, but that's none of his concern. What he does realize, with his canny thief's eye, though, is that Bran has something--though muted--of the same air as the fellow who hired him, a man named Salvatus, and as a traveler he might be going the same way, or also be looking for a person of diverse skills...

[AleBelly]

"Greetings" croaks Bran, betraying the fact that his vocal cords have scarcely been exercised over the last few months. He looks at Cugel with eyes of such a dark brown they're nearly the same color as his pupils. His brow has a slight wrinkle of suspicion. He hastens to add "May the blessings of our Lord be with you."

Though his French is flawless, there is a lilt to his speech that suggests it's not his native language. "I've not seen you here before - are you new to Basel?"

[Grognardsw]

Cugel's instincts have guided the rogue's career and helped sidestep many a trouble. As he approached the open seat in the tavern, Cugel had an intuitive feeling that the man in the next seat was...something more...

Cugel sat down. "Good morning. Yes, the Lord bless us all, we certainly need it." A smile as he slyly studied the man. The cut of his clothes, pale countenance, the ink smear on his fingers, the slight slouch - perhaps a scholar or...

"I arrived this morning, on my way up the Rhine, but the weather isn't cooperating. I am Cugel," He nodded to the man. "Your accent - where do you hail from?"

[AleBelly]

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Cugel. I am called Bran." To the question of his origin, Bran answers "Is my accent obvious, or do you have a discerning ear? I came to Basel from across La Manche. I am from St. Finbarr's land, in the south of Eire." He pauses. "It has been quite a journey."

He swats the air near his right ear, looking annoyed, then regains his calm countenance, turning again to Cugel. "Up the Rhine, you say? I have told you where my journey began...it would please me to know where your journey ends."

[Grognardsw]

‘No Bran, I just have an ear for such things. I’ve not had the pleasure of visiting the green fields of Iouernia.”

Cugel nibbled on peasant bread and cheese and sipped a weak beer while waiting for ham.

‘Business takes me up north to the mountain valleys of Alsace and a certain Covenant.”

[AleBelly]

Bran's eyes narrow, then relax. His arm moves a couple centimeters towards the short sword under his black cloak, then stops and relaxes too. "So, our meeting is not by chance. Or divine providence brought us together. So who sent you here? God, or a more earthly being?"

[Grognardsw]

Cugel’s hands were on the table edge, ready to flip it against this Bran if he drew his blade, but each held.

“The Lord works in mysterious ways, or so the priests say. But no one sent me here, it’s just along my path to profits at Verdant Springs.”

“I’ve been chased enough to know how suspicions can overtake a man. Is that your case? Where, pray tell, is your destination?”

[AleBelly]

"Forgive me" Bran replies, putting his hands on the table. "I too know how it is to be chased...one may say even hunted. I can scarcely believe it; we share the same destination. I too seek gains."

The black-haired man pulls deeply to find courage to add further "Traveling with a companion is safer than alone. If you would like, that is. I can be useful in difficult situations, I mean to say."

[Grognardsw]

“I try to avoid difficult situations. But safety in numbers, so yes let us travel to the Covenant together.”

Cugel sipped his beer and the ham arrived.

”What line of work are you in?”

He started packing a smoking pipe.

[AleBelly]

A bowl of tripe is set in front of Bran along with Cugel's ham. He smiles at the question.

"I study the Arts. My apprenticeship has ended, with some success. I now seek to chart my own scholarly path."

He dips his bread in the broth surrounding the steaming white tripe and eats it in a quick succession of short sharp bites. "But not all approve of these Arts. Hence my care, or paranoia."

"And you? How do you make your way in this world?"

[Grognardsw]

Cugel had a moment of concern at this practitioner of the Arts - he heard and intuitively felt the particular stress on that initial vowel meant that type of ‘Arts’ and not the fine arts, or the liberal arts, or even arts and crafts.

“I am an importer and exporter of select and rare goods,” Cugel artfully replied.

The rogue had a rocky past with wizards, as both customers and victims. They were an unpredictable lot, but exceedingly profitable. But this Bran was young, only just beginning his arcane journey. Befriending a magus at this stage could be advantageous to Cugel’s future. The rogue was evidently in an optimistic mood at that moment.

“I am often commissioned to procure items of interest, when not pursuing my own commercial ventures. One of my clients resides in the Verdant Springs.”

[AleBelly]

Bran nods, amused at the common use of euphemisms to refer to their professions. "I presume Salvatus is your client. His reputation for, ah, collecting is not limited to the continent." Bran cocks his head slightly. "What can you tell me of Salvatus? I've not met him."

[Keehnelf]

Use this how you will:

Cugel met Salvatus only once, while traveling in Vienna. A mutual acquaintance with the odd name of "Mercer"--an obvious pseudonym--introduced the two of them in the shadow of a cathedral there, and Salvatus cut an unsettling figure. He was tall, bony, with a long and wispy white beard that looked unkempt, and he smelled of horse stables and old milk. He seemed desperate to procure the needed items, offering three times what Cugel would normally charge in hard silver, on the condition that it could be returned to the Covenant. In manner, he was fidgety and unfocused seeming. He kept lapsing from halting French into fluent Latin mid-sentence, and then had to backtrack when he realized Cugel couldn't understand him, all of which suggested to Cugel that he was deranged, or a Diabolist, or both, but he offered 20% down payment on his expenses out of his purse, which impressed on Cugel that however delusional he might be, he was deadly serious about his request.

This encounter was in late summer of 1220.

[Grognardsw]

Cugel thought back to that evening in Vienna…

St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna

“I met Salvatus once, in the shadows of St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. He was tall, bony, with a long and wispy white beard that looked unkempt, and he smelled of horse stables and old milk. In manner he was fidgety and unfocused, lapsing from halting French into fluent Latin mid-sentence. It was enough to believe him deranged, though I understand he holds some position of import in the Covenant of the Verdant Springs.”

[AleBelly]

Bran sighs. "He is the person of import, as I understand it."

The black-haired young man takes a few bites of tripe as he ponders why the tribunal would send him to Verdant Springs. Was it a slight on him? In his limited experience, poor hygiene is the exception rather than the rule for magae, but this description seemed extreme. Or would Salvatus really be able to help him? He supposed he would just have to find out first hand.

"Not a very inspiring description. Perhaps he was having an off day, or just on edge at being in public. Regardless, Verdant Springs is my destination. And I am anxious to get there. I am ready to leave today...how about you?

[Grognardsw]

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” replied Cugel.

[Keehnelf]

March 13, 1221

While the snow has not yet broken, the pair decide that together the road may be safe enough for them to win their way to the Covenant. Their best maps suggest it may only be twenty miles or so, including at least two miles up into the foothills, but there are roads the entire length, so they set out under a clear, cold sky the next morning.

It is slow going, even on the main road that runs along the valley floor beside the sparkling Rhine, trudging through a foot and a half of unbroken snow, but the two well-rested and experienced travelers forge onward in relative silence, even appreciating the forbidding beauty of the surrounding mountains and the snow-drenched forests that line their sides.

Late on the second day of their northward journey, they are snaking their way up the old oxcart-path that leads up beyond the sleepy village of Thannenkirch, when they spy the Covenant clinging to a craggy bluff--an aged red-stone edifice more like a keep or castle than a hermitage for scholars.

[imgurl=https://www.ostrichtrails.com/wp-conten ... 8x1045.jpg]

As they approach, Bran can feel the tingle in the air of a mounting aura of magical power--strong enough that he begins to feel almost resisted or repelled by it. His head becomes muddled for a moment, but he pushes on with a sidelong glance as his companion, who seems to be experiencing nothing of the sort.

At the humble gatehouse, the pair are greeted by a closed door, and after a few knocks, the side-gate opens and a young man of perhaps twenty with a short, neat beard under a conical helmet emerges. He does not smile, but his brown eyes seem unaccustomed to sternness. After a moment, he makes some kind of statement, followed by a question, in German, which neither of the pair speak. After he realizes this won't get a response, he frowns and tries again, this time in heavily-accented French:

"Hello, travelers. We are closed now, but you can come back after the snows if you still seek healing. You can find lodging at the village, down there." He points back the way they came.

[Grognardsw]

Cugel tried to enjoy the trek to the Covenant, making occasional small talk with Bran.

“What are the subjects of your scholarly study?”

Cugel admired the scenery as they trudged through snow. He kept wrapt in his furred cloak and boots.

“I take it you wish to see Salvatus?”

At the gatehouse, Cugel replied to the guard: “Please tell Salvatus that Cugel has arrived. We are expected.”

[AleBelly]

“What are the subjects of your scholarly study?”

Bran is initially evasive in his answers, but even in these short two days he has developed some bonds of trust with his mysterious traveler. "The subjects are wide-ranging, Cugel. Language arts - Latin is the base, as many arts rely on reading texts written in this language. From there, my interests include, ah, I'm not quite sure of the word in French. But it's a study of how we know what we know. And then there are the healing arts, the arts of combat...well, in a sense...but my major focus is the art of changing the physical nature of things...including living beings as necessary. Think of it as alchemy, but not for metals." He awaits the reaction from his traveling companion, wondering if he said too much.

“I take it you wish to see Salvatus?”

"Yes, and perhaps learn from him. But I also seek to establish myself as an independent scholar and practitioner of the arts. But with his experience I hope he has much to teach me."



When they finally reach the covenant, Bran nods in agreement with Cugel. "Yes, Salvatus is expecting us." He then adds in Latin "Adsum iussu Desidar."

"I am here on the orders of Desidar."

If the young man does not understand, he repeats in French.

[Keehnelf]

I'm going to wait for Cugel's response to Bran's description of his studies before moving on with the gate scene.