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[Iituem]

((5+ Years and nomadic.  You caught them at the right year and month precisely - two years previous, your old clan and Silver's Clan were more than two hundred miles apart.  Right now, they're a mere fifty.  When you ran away five years ago, they were still over a hundred and fifty miles distant, so it was running far away.  Also, you have moved at the speed of Plot.))

[mainiac]

"Who am I?  Have I become a strange among the people who gave me birth?  Do you not remember, kind elder, a young girl named Gwen, daughter of Boudica and Brennus?  I had held out hope that the people of my birth might accept me once again, now that we are reunited here so many horizons from where we parted ways.  I came seeking you because I have friends who are in need of refuge."  She points here to Tawe and Jorn in turn.  "These two have been betrayed by their own kinsmen.  And this one," she points now to Ortholac, "has been expelled for speaking the truth about the matter.  They are all three honorable tribesmen and have the strength to repay those who befriend them.  But please, wise mother, if this is the tribe of Silver, then I can see my parents after all these years.  Where are Boudica and Brennus?"

[Iituem]

The elder studies your face and achieves a moment of recognition.  You recognise her now, Gwen - Elder Memet, an old lady of quite high standing in the clan.  For her to be gathering, and certainly to be doing it alone, speaks of strange times for such a revered person.  Her face sags again, and you realise why you did not know her at first - even these past six years must have aged her terribly, even beyond her own silver years.

"Gwen, it is good to see you, and yet it is not," Memet says.  "For I must be the one to tell you - both Boudica and Brennus are dead, four years now.  As is Silver himself.  I fear that you and your friends will not receive welcome, certainly after you left with that coward, Errec.  If he had stayed, perhaps we might have... bah.  It matters not.  What brings you this way after your banishment, then, rather than any other?"

[mainiac]

"Dead?  But I never..." Gwen lapses in silence, shocked by the thought that this tragedy had struck and she'd not even been given the small mercy of a warning.  "...I never saw that in my dreams." she finishes softly, like a confession.  She struggles to find the words to say next, then suddenly blurts them out in confusion.  "Dear Elder, what has happened here?  How could my parents both be lost?  What could have driven you so far from the homeland or make you be living like this?  And why would Silver's hospitality have disappeared?  What has done this to our people?"

[Iituem]

"Errec must truly have taken you far, Gwen," the elder says.  "Tell me, what reason did he give to you for leaving, the night of your departure?"

[mainiac]

"What are you saying?" Gwen replied darkly.  "Surely you know the reason.  He had enemies who wished him dead and who would have taken their retribution upon a pupil of his.  This was made clear so many years ago.  Surely you can't expect me to turn upon the man who saved my life from certain persons who would have harmed me."  Gwen finishes the reply with a hard, cold stare at the woman.  Insulting her mentor twice had clearly touched a nerve.

[Iituem]

"I am saying that Errec was neither as truthful to you as to us, Gwen.  He told us that he was taking you to see a rock formation, of all things, and that it would take a few days so you'd need to take supplies.  Two days later, the warlord came.  I don't know what the warlord and his men had to do with Errec, but the timing of his absence and the fact that he did not return cannot be ignored.

"We fought back, of course.  Silver died first, along with some of our young men before we were brought low.  Then the warlord from Ruk forced us to give up our remaining young men, and worked the remainder of us so hard to produce the 'taxes' they demanded.  Your parents tried to fight back after a few years of this - it didn't bode well for them.  But why do I tell you this?  Come, I will show you."

Memet leads you back towards the camp of rude tents.  As you approach, you notice that many of the tents are in need of repair, and for that matter so are many of their inhabitants.  There is a sense of famine and lean times amongst most of the clan, contrasted against some obvious signs of plenty.  For one thing, you notice at least one woman carrying a basket full of fruit and meat towards the centre of the camp.  There is also a lot more bead jewellery around, and you think you see glimpses of that rare and glorious metal copper amongst the inhabitants.  Until now, only chiefs have worn copper.

Without yet approaching it, you see that someone has crafted a wooden throne at the centre of the camp, before a tent.  A strange man, so well fed as to be approaching fat, sits upon the throne wearing a great deal of jewellery.  He is flanked by similarly fed but far more muscular guards with spears.  There is a difference, though - far from the ordinary wooden spears you are used to, they are tipped with a metal resembling the copper jewellery around, save for its slightly darker tint.  Most of the baskets are being brought to this man and laid before him.

[Grek]

Otholac steps forwards and bows to the Elder, his head below his hips in great respect. And he speaks to say, "Good Elder, we are not cowards who quake and quiver with the smallest fright. Even the meakest of us, Jorn of the Bear, who has been fearful that we will freeze in the cold of the winter, is braver than any two lesser souls."

Otholac launces into a brief pantomime, stopping in a tabletu as he speaks each line, telling of Jorn's history, "Jorn, son of a great craftsman, had come of age and would soon be a man, and a great man he would be. Jorn, wearing the sword that he wrought by his own hand of his own skill, went forth into the forests beyond the plains. Jorn, with the strength of a man and the hard-hearted face of a warrior, sought his prey. Jorn of the Bear who slew the Bear and took its strength and who is as mighty as thunder over the plains."

"It is with him that we travel west in the way of a hero, Rathor of the Sea, seeking those stone-tented lands seven skys by seven skys distant. It is in that hero's words and deeds that we shall find both wisdom and stregth. And, as Rathor did, we shall pause our travels only to do due by those who give us their hospitality. This warlord of whom you speak reminds me greatly of the great foe of the mighty Rathor, Geivich of the Axe."

Otholac paused, considering how best to tell the tale of Geivich of the Axe and his great doom at the feet of Rathor of the Sea.

[mainiac]

((Wait, we meet a big bad and you decide to... tell him a story?  ))

[Grek]

((I'm a bard. A bard with a terrible sense of when to shut up.))

[Iituem]

(Wait, is that addressed to Elder Memet, or the guy on the throne?)

[Grek]

((The Elder, but apparently we're now at the throne?))

[mainiac]

Gwen shies away from the sight of the man on the throne once she has been led to him.
"This is close enough, elder.  Your point has been made.  Please, let us move away before we draw the attention of this new chieftain."  She then backs away from the center of the camp, returning to the outskirts before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to Memet.
"You may not have fond memories of my departure, Elder, but perhaps my return could be more fond.  My companions are strong and brave but in need of shelter.  Maybe we could be welcome here if we could free this tribe of this new chieftain.  Does he have many warriors or just the ones we saw?  Is he as complacent as he looks?"

[Iituem]

"Hah!" Memet barks.  "That isn't the chieftain, or the warlord.  The warlord's chieftain, their 'king', lives in Ruk.  This is the man who collects the 'taxes' Ruk demands.  You might call him a 'tax collector', if you will.  But if he dies, and the taxes are not taken, who knows how many more men will come to take what is owed and more?  Gwen, you and yours may stay the night, but I pray you leave soon - your friends are strong, as you say, and that will make them a target for these people."

[Criptfeind]

"The meekest among you?" Jorn raised a eyebrow at the telling of his life but decided to let it pass.

"I do not like this, we could kill this fat man, this 'Tax collector' and free you. But then you will just die to more?"

Jorn thinks on this dilemma.

"We can be like bear and crush these wolfs at your door and drive them to their caves. But unlike wolf they will be back and in greater numbers. But I ask you, why do you have to be here? Let us kill the fat man and be gone, the picking are not good here anyway, how will they catch us if we move away from this 'Ruk'? Soon the chill of winter will come and they will be as bear, weary and ready for rest. Be we will stay as wolf and keep going. It will be a hard path to follow but it leads to freedom. What say you?"