This is an account of the early Varmandi clan's trip to Wintertop to see Kero Fin. (When a bunch of nasty Humakti who outnumber you 5 to 1 live right next to you, and then they swear to enthrall your whole clan, you get motivated.)
David Dunham has already posted an account from Korol's POV. Here is Theya's, told the way she would likely tell the other clan women. Note how _she_ thinks clan politics works. It also turned into a nice beginning for the reputation of clan Varmandi.
Pam
In the Storm Season of the year after the Great Fight with Malan the Butcher, my kin and I journeyed to the holy mountain Wintertop, home of Kerofin, Mother of Orlanth. The war with Malan Deathsthane was going badly, so we Children of Ernalda hoped to make our claim of life to the Land herself.
Golanth Heortsson had made such a quest once before, so the clan performed his Ritual of the Elements to speed our journey. The clan then presented us with sacred relics of the powers of the clan: the Blessed Salt-Rock, the Medicine Bag, the Bag of Winds, the Power of Flight, and the Shield of Stone.
My brother Illig knows some of the mysteries of Issaries Pathfinder - but not many. The first day we wandered uncertainly through the untamed forest of Stael+s Hills, and finally took shelter from the rain under a small, rocky overhang.
The fire sputtered fitfully, complaining about the wet wood. The clouds made it very dark. Suddenly, a DarkEater roared out of the night: "Give me your horses, you puny humans, and I+ll eat them instead of you!" Illig tried to reason with the creature in Darktongue, but the troll said we were on his lands. I cast the Eyes of the Soul, and could see the runt-trolls beginning to move away with our horses. I called out to my kin, and even though they could barely see, they rushed the trolls!
I cast Eyes of the Soul on all my kin, so they could see to fight. The fight was dangerous, but we finally killed the DarkEater, and the runts ran off. Heorl led us all in a prayer of thanks to Orlanth the Warrior for the victory. I started to lead a prayer to Ernalda Soulseer, but Heorl scoffed and claimed that Her spells had been of little help! I was shocked! I refused to heal Heorl of his wounds then, nor will I ever aid him until he makes an apology to the Mother. I will not heal him, though I would bury him if need be.
We spent some time trying to cross the first river. It was fat and fast from heavy rains. Korol the Perpetually Stiff composed a love poem to entice a water nymph to our aid. Not surprisingly for Korol+s poetry, all he summoned was the Serpent of the River. It did not seem to be overly fond of love poetry.
Korol fought the serpent, raised up by Orlanth+s Wind to keep him out of the demon+s jaws! Illig, who has more bravery than brains, jumped in the river to have a go at the serpent too. Without Orlanth+s magic, he was helpless before the serpent. I saw the demon wrap Illig in its coils and drag him below! There was little I could do. Finally, Korol tore the demon apart, as Orlanth did to Aroka. Then he rescued Illig from the rapidly calming waters.
At the second river, we were taunted by strange duckmen. Still, they knew the Words of Orlanth, so we continued to be polite. They had built a boat to cross the river. Baranthos offered them his sword if they would take us across. The ducks wanted the sword, but refused to carry our horses across. Poor sots. Heorl began to regale them with tired renditions of Orlanth+s hospitality laws! Finally they relented, so they wouldn+t have to listen to Heorl any more.
In the foothills of the Mountain, we were approached by a young horse barbarian and his sisters. They were very shy. I think they wanted to rob us, but we were too many. They seemed more like lost children than savage slavers. I offered them some of our food, but they were too fearful even to take that. Baranthos wanted to kill them for their horses, because he is desperate to rebuild his herds. I told him that just because he had been raided by the Orlevings didn+t mean he had to act like them.
Soon we were climbing up steep meadows, and then up steep fields of snow. The wind howled around us, and Korol swore he could hear dogs in it. Suddenly, a KillingSnow broke loose from the slope and roared down at us! I desperately thought of my Grandmother and how she had stopped the SteepShoulder Mountain from sending the snow, but I have not yet found those magics. Thankfully, Illig called on the Power of Flight to carry us all up out of the path of the snow! The horses were all swallowed, poor things, with all of our gear. But we were too close to our goal to care overmuch.
By now we all felt the hand of the StormKing, lifting us up the mountainside as gently as a father lifts a newborn babe. All around us swirled the terrible storm kin of Orlanth - swirlstorm and thunder spirits, savage warrior godlings and demons of Cold. But none touched us. Orlanth protected us all the way to the Hall of his Mother.
A terrible surprise awaited us there. Kero Fin's hall, as with her Lands below, had been devastated by Bad Dogs and Foreigners, Chaos and other Unruly Kin. We approached the Great Mother with awe and reverence. We laid our gifts at her feet: the Blessing of Cows and the Power of Healing. We announced ourselves. We begged for her blessing.
"I have little left to give", she moaned, "but you may have it"-
Our hearts broke. Even Heorl, I think, was saddened. He spoke beautifully of our willingness to aid her any way we could, as Orlanth had. Korol carefully took Yinkin down from the wall where the Dogs had left him, and gave Kero Fin+s Beast-Son his own fine cloak to replace the pelt which had been rent from him. Illig, Baranthos and I spent all our strength to Heal Kero Fin herself. The Great Mother, for I knew that Kero Fin is but a mask of Ernalda, seemed to gain strength from our love. She asked us what we would ask of her.
"To survive", I replied. "Our enemies are many, and they band together
to destroy us. We wish for the Varmandi to survive in your lands for as
long as Orlanth+s winds blow seed across them"-
"And so you shall", intoned the Goddess. "Here is your wyrd: The
Varmandi shall ever be known as the Slayers of Kings and Destroyers of
Peace. Your farmers will be Stead Burners, your lawspeakers will be
Truce Breakers, your warriors will be Killers and the Slayers of the Kin
of Kings. But your children will live here in my bosom, and your
grand-children and their children, too. You are mine."
Joy and exhaltation! I praised the Goddess six times, and swore we would keep by her wyrd and her ways forever. I knew that the menfolk saw this as a path of horror, but males are ever weak. The women of the Varmandi will see that they keep true to Kero Fin+s wyrd.
End of Glorantha Digest V3 #259
WWW material at http://hops.wharton.upenn.edu/~loren/rolegame.html
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