Book 1 - Chapter 5.1: Dark Wings, Darker Deeds

[Asta]

"I'll draw steel when I need it." Scathach snipped back, rubbing the spot on her shoulder that had been injured.

The shrine was a large circular tiered dais, three steps high and flanked on either side by large columns of marble that had seen the weathering of many seasons. At the top of the dais, carved into the stone was the image of a rook in flight; pinions extended like the coin in Thedrin's hand. A semicircular altar rimmed the outer edge of the highest tier.

"The coin and carving are a matching set it looks. Offer it up on the altar maybe?" suggested Scathach.

[pringerbeam]

     "Well... It's no labyrinth of the sages... I guess it could be that simple." Said Thedrin as he set the coin down on the shrine and waited to see what would happen.

[Asta]

For a moment, nothing happened. Seconds passed like hours in anticipation of something, anything to happen; and then it did.

At first it was but one bird that came swooping in from the sky above, sable and harshly rasping as it landed on a nearby tree. Then another, and once more until the bough of every tree ringing the clearing was heavy with their dark wings. The cacophony of their calls was deafening and when it reached its pinnacle and all the world was noise it came to a sudden stop. In that silence, there was a sudden flutter of wings and from the thin air above the altar appeared the old man from the roadside.

Though his face was the same, his bearing was more regal. Now wearing fine leather as black as a moonless night, and a cloak of crow feathers that shined slick like oil. The bandages that covered his eye was now a patch that seemed to be sewn from gold, and his staff replaced by a spear of wicked sharpness. If he were not currently suspended in the air above the altar he would have easily stood at nearly eight feet high.

"Hail mortals," he began and his voice was both strong and clear yet carried the harshness of crow call. "Long has it been since tribute has been paid to Krakefar, Father of Crows. I am pleased to see you did heed my call."

[pringerbeam]

     "Yes, we did indeed heed your call and it would seem we've dealt with some cultists infringing on your shrine." Replied Thedrin with a gesture towards the dead cultists. "A rival cult perhaps?"

[Asta]

Krakefar glanced at the dead men with his uncovered eye before shrugging. "My eyes see far on the steppe" he said, gesturing to the gathered crows before continuing; "But the master of these men eludes me."

He ceased his levitating and dropped to the ground next to Thedrin. Running his hand over the stone of the altar almost wistfully he spoke again: "Even in time long past I was not often venerated by your kind, directly that is. No houses of worship or grand statues in city squares. I doubt many even remember the name of the Crowfather. Many of my siblings are the same way, distant memories and shades of former powers. A few still still garner devotion though. You crafted a fair likeness of one in that hill city of yours."

"A likeness in the..." Scathach started to ponder before stopping, wide eyed. "Light preserve me, he's a primal!"

"Aye." Krakefar responded.

You can attempt a Knowledge: Religion or Knowledge: History check to see if you can recall information on Primals or Krakefar specifically.

[pringerbeam]

Knowledge (Religion)

Rolled 1d20+4 : 11 + 4, total 15

[Oath]

Cecilia wasn't sure if she was simply seeing things after being on the receiving of magic for the first time in a long while, or if reality was simply stranger than anything she could think up. She rubbed her temple, it was an exciting time but she was unsure where to start. She was racking her brain, trying to recall if she had read about primals somewhere before.

knowledge history

Rolled 1d20+8 : 14 + 8, total 22

[Asta]

Thedrin's Religion:
You are aware of the existence of Primals, at least in the general concept. It is widely known that they exist for a fact, but are elusive and rarely ever seen. Primals are animistic spirits that embody and hold sway over the the elemental processes of Fearann.

Cecilia's History:
From some dusty tome of your master's you once read, you recall the basic information everyone knows about Primals: They are spirits that embody and hold power over the elements. You know that are rarely seen, and some more than others are venerated by the peoples of the world or at the very least treated with the respect one gives to a powerful extra-natural being.

Some well known Primals include: Tiamat, Leviathan, and Yggdrasil. Embodying Wind, Water, and Plants/Animals respectively.

Krakefar Crowfather is one of the lesser recognized Primals. He is a Doomsman, and as such holds governance over fate and luck.

[Oath]

Cecilia still wasn't sure if this was a dream or not. "You're the Crowfather..." Her voice trailed off momentarily, words filled with awe. He had said as much himself, but it still took time for reality to sink in. "If we can be of aid to one such as yourself, it would be my honor to do so."

[Asta]

"You already have, though you didn't know it at the time. These men sought to exploit my diminished presence and corrupt me for some nefarious purpose. These fell stones hold power over more than just the minds of men it seems."

Krakefar pointed the tip of his spear to the crates filled with Dark Essence and loosed an invisible, but distinctly felt, pulse of force that shattered the purple crystals into fine powder.

"It is not known to me how they obtain the vile things, but I can tell you these two brought them from the town to the west. Be cautious if you continue that way."

The Crowfather placed a hand on the coin Thedrin had left on the altar and a small flash of light was visible beneath his palm. When he removed his hand, the coin had become a shining silver. "For your assistance I grant you this boon. The coin is infused with a small portion of my power and will aid you in future endeavors. Please take it with my gratitude."

The Crowfather's Boon:
Minor Artifact, Aura: Strong Divination

A silver coin bearing the image of a crow in flight on both sides, it has been infused with the powers of Krakefar Crowfather, a primal of Fearann and Doomsman. Once per week, you may flip the coin to activate its effects for the rest of the day. Regardless of which face comes up, fate will be altered for you and your party that day. The specific effects may not be readily apparent and they may range in potency, but they will always produce a positive influence on your actions that day. After being used, the coin requires a week to recharge its power.

[Oath]

"I am glad that we could be of use to one such as yourself. We will most gratefully accept this boon" She approached the altar and grabbed the coin, holding it up and examining it with awe. "I feel we will end up in the west before too long, but knowing that something is already amiss is good, this warning is appreciated.

[Asta]

"There is something fell stirring in the shadows these days, on the Steppe and the world over... I must be on my way, as must you. Fortune guide your steps mortals." The Crowfather gave a nod by way of farewell, and vanished into thin air in the span of a blink.

"Was that not the wildest happening you've encountered in your life?" Scathach asked, somewhat rhetorically.

[pringerbeam]

     Thedrin, not really understanding the retorical nature of Scatach's statement answered anyways. "Well I was once able to go to a Witching Eve party attended by the arch wizard Bizzlewort and he polymorphed a skunk into a donkey the size of two bulls. That was pretty cool. I hear every year he takes the same beast to the next party and does the same trick but turns it into a different animal. No one knows what it was originally. They like to scare the young children by saying it used to be an unwary rival of his.  Anyways, I guess we need to move on to the town to see what's so ominous." He said as he went and picked his sword back up.

[Asta]

"Huh. Yes I do guess that is something." Scathach said, dumbfounded yet also somewhat intrigued.

Soft closing thread continuing in Book 1 - Chapter 5: Have Sword - Will Travel, or How the West was Fun(dead)