Winds of Change

The Hands of the gods - The Gift

"The Dires be, well they be dire"
Aluvian saying

The sea air, spiced with salt and sweetness, caressed Moira’s cheeks. Before her arrival on Dereth, Moira had never seen the ocean, and now, having witnessed it, each look fascinated her. She was enamored of the ever-changing beauty; and the serene power, which when angered, rose to destroy all foolish enough to challenge its fury. It was perhaps this feeling, mirroring Moira’s dreams of whom she might become, that accounted for such enchantment. Or perhaps, it was the sea’s vastness, which held open some promise to Moira’s deeply hidden hope of return to a family long ago lost. For, to Moira, Dereth was nothing more than an island, and for all the names that she had heard this land, this world, called; to her they were all one, the island she knew herself to be upon. And this was her hope, that somewhere beyond the sea’s horizon, the world was called a different name, and it held other islands, and upon one of these dwelt the family who had seen her born.

Moira reluctantly turned her gaze from the bay sparking blue below, and headed down the long hill into Mayoi. Her plan, if indeed a scattered collection of tasks could be called such, was to find semi-permanent accommodations and once settled, stage her hunts to the Dires from Mayoi. Maryn’s thoughts touched hers, and she now hurried, as he was already en route to the South Dires portal. She tossed her belongings upon the floor of the room she had just let, and cursed as one of the packs flew open scattering its contents upon the floor. Moira closed the door behind her, and left the inn heading west, the vision of her things lying piecemeal upon the floor of a strange room unsettled her soul. Too like her plan, a puzzle all asunder, pieces scattered and waiting for hands to assemble them. Little did she know, a number hands were already at work.

Maryn and Moira met near the portal and began their preparations, spells cast, other magics pulled from rings and bracelets, all to enhance abilities and wrap selves in protections. Prepared, they entered the portal. The warm, heavy air, forest scented, greeted their arrival. Moira’s senses snapped to a fine tension, her every muscle vibrated in anticipation. Maryn dashed north into the heart of the valley, and Moira trailed steps behind. She sensed, more than saw, the lean, gray reptilian shape charging from the right. Fearing the ash grommie had Maryn’s scent, Moira darted to the right and behind the creature. It wheeled and came for her. Suddenly, bursting forth from the undergrowth, two more appeared, and charged. Moira cursed and ran for her life. Even on her best days she could barely handle two of the beasts, never could she face down three. Gods!…run Maryn…run, she thought to herself. An arrow whistled by her and was answered by an angry scream. No! Maryn had turned from his path and stood determinedly, arrow after arrow leaping from his bow. Moira passed him at a dead run hoping he would break and flee. Within seconds she knew he was not, and turned to face the grommies. "Moira, what the hell is going on", Ice Falcon’s booming thought rumbled around in her head. The arrow flew wide of its mark and Moira cursed knowing that every shot would need to count if she and Maryn were to live. "Dires", her thought screamed urgently to Falcon. Her second shot hit, but still all three creatures were standing and on Maryn! He tried to turn and run, but they dragged him down, in seconds…Maryn was dead. Moira’s heart screamed in agony at the death of her friend. Her rage gave chase to each arrow that left her bow, but rage does not kill, arrow do, and not enough had flown to take down all three. The shocks staggered and stunned her, the fangs ripped her flesh, but still she stood, her fury keeping her upright, till even that was not enough.

Moira stood before the lifestone, every muscle aching and her senses dulled. Though using the magic of the stones could cheat death, it did come at a price. She reached out, seeking Maryn, their toughts met. He was alive! Somewhat relieved, Moira set out for the spot where they had fallen. For the lifestones were rather fickle, and though they rarely failed to bring one back, they arbitrarily choose what got left behind, and this time it was Moira’s armor. She met up with Maryn, and together they retrieved belongings from their bodies. Re-equipped, they again headed north, avoiding any creatures that came near. Moira’s mood had darkened even more. "An omen", she thought to herself, "a bad omen". Dying in the Dires was not uncommon, aye, it was to be expected. But for Moira, dying between the portal and the South Dires lifestone had come to mean it was going to be a bad day.

Soon the two had found their way to the small gulley which led up to the plateau where they planned to hunt. A group of banderling beserkers had camped somewhat near, but with any luck, they could make the climb without attracting notice. However, as they started to make the climb, Moira stumbled setting loose a small avalanche of stones and gravel. The banderlings sprang to their feet, some charged and others rained magics down on Moira. "Run Maryn!" she shouted while desperately scrambling for better footing. The spells peeled away her strength and her protections, leaving her vulnerable to the weapons of those who now attacked her. Moira clawed her way forward seeking to escape the blows that were taking her life. From above, Maryn franticly sent arrow after arrow at Moira’s attackers with little or no effect, and below, Moira gave herself to the lifestone.

Cursing the dull aches that dimmed her senses and body, Moira again headed for the gully, intent upon recovering her things. Her thoughts assured her that though Maryn was still safe, the denizens of the Dires were dogging his every move. As she neared the place where she had fallen, she cursed again, "Damn! And damn again!" The banderling camp was in full alert, and berserkers patrolled the area. It would be sheer folly to try to get to Maryn now trapped on the plateau above, never mind getting to her body, which had armor and items still on it. The gods were being unkind to Moira this day, and she acknowledged it with a few more curses in their direction. Nothing now to be done save to send for help, and that meant calling upon the Clan. Reluctantly, Moira sifted through the telepathic threads lying about her conscious ‘till she found the warmest, most recent. "Falcon", the thought carried question and need. "Ready to talk" queried the reply. Moira snorted in exasperation. "Gods! Why is everything so difficult?", Moira inquired of herself. "I am in trouble Falcon", she responded. "South Dires?…it will take me a bit, but am on my way", came Ice Falcon’s concerned thought. Moira sighed, help came with a price, and this time she knew, the price would be a long conversation she wished not to have. She could tell from his earlier "telling" that he had some inkling of what she was up to, and that…well that could be difficult. Steeling herself, she again mentally fingered the psychic threads, Falcon would need help, and she would just as soon choose, especially if forced to explain herself to more than just Falcon. One hummed in response to her concentration. "Hey girl!" Nina’s response was quick and exuberant. Moira’s thoughts tumbled down the link. "I am in trouble Nina, the Dires, Maryn is trapped and I am down, and banderlings all over the place. Falcon is coming but I fear he will need help". Again the response was quick, and all business. "On my way". Moira hid herself in the brush on the edge of the ravine and waited. Her own troubled thoughts mixed with the anxious thoughts of Maryn and the worried "tells’ of her rescuers.

"Moira?" Ice Falcon’s voice echoed through the ravine. Moira scrambled from her hiding place. "Falcon! There are banderlings…" She let the rest of the warning trail away as Falcon was intently observing the enemies below. "Ready" he asked. "Nina’s coming", her reply chased after Falcon’s charging form. Moira hurriedly put arrow to bow, and sent it into the banderlings meeting Falcon’s onslaught. From the plain above, she knew that Maryn was doing the same. But her best efforts were for naught as the effects of the prior deaths had muted her skills. From somewhere off to her left, spell upon spell poured into the ranks of the beserkers, a passing mage was making fruitless attempt to aid the axe-wielding warrior. Others too had joined the battle, but they were no match for the enemy, and more than one fell including Falcon. Nina’s urgent thought broke her concentration, "Through the portal, where are you?" Moira let her view of the surroundings pass through the link. "Rune is with me, and others." Moira cringed. "Rune?" Moira’s thoughts turned frantic. "oh gods…not Rune….not others…" She made a mad dash for her corpse, hoping against hope that she could gather the most important things and be away, but the threats from banderling beserkers turned her back. Falcon appeared from nowhere grinning wildly, Tis is fun!" and again charged down into the bandy camp. Others too now came into sight, Nina to her immediate left, bow singing and arrows humming death, Kyp Durran and Bali’Azul poured a rain of arrows down upon the camp, and Rune wrapped magics of protection and healing upon the death-dealing Ice Falcon. Moira saw an opening and bolted for her body. Quickly grabbing the few important things, she bolted up the gulley and onto the plateau seeking a place of safety. She quickly rearmed and pulled maigcs from the rings that she had recovered and ran quickly back towards the ravine. Below, all was quiet the hunters of the Clan Brell having destroyed the enemy camp. Moira edged back from the edge of the cliff, the urge to run madly upon her. But to where, there are few places to run in the Dires, and even if one was near at hand, how could she? She could hear the others below calling for her. How could she run after Falcon had given a life to rescue her. How could she run after the others had come to her aid? Still the voices called out below. "I am up here", Moira shouted to the valley below, and then steeled herself for the discussion that was sure to follow.

Soon those who had come to her rescue had gathered upon the mesa and around Moira. It seemed that all present had something to say so questions and comments came rapidly and in no certain order. "Why are you leaving the clan?" "You deserve to be an Elder" "How could you think such things?" Moira’s head spun as she tried to shield herself from the barrage armored with nothing but confused responses. She wanted to scream, "I am not fit to be an Elder, nothing more, nothing less", but in the current confusion, it would only continue the concern that she had intentions of leaving the clan. "Gods", she thought, "How has it come to this?" Again, something she had done for the clan had gone awry, the realization leaving her more firmly convinced that she was not fit to sit in the Circle. The discussion ceased when a golem, all of granite, lumbered down upon them and sent the party scattering in all directions. Of course, scattering when in the Dires usually amounts to more trouble, and this was no exception. Creatures of all kinds sprang from lairs and camps to attack. Quickly the party regrouped. Kyp and Bali, in perfect rhythm loosed flight after flight, each one’s arrow in a race ‘gainst the other for the kill. Again, Falcon, the mad grin of the melee upon his face leapt from opponent to opponent, leaving dead and dying behind each swing of the axe. Nina, stoic and unyielding, launching arrows down the throats of creatures foolish enough to close with her. Maryn, dashing from one fight to another, his bow sounding of a harp with dirge upon its strings. And Rune, arcane words a continuous chant as he layered spell upon spell of protection and skill upon those fighting, pulling the energy from deep within him, even to the point of exhaustion to heal those about to fall. Only Maryn fell, and without escort braved the dangerous run from lifestone to where the Clan battled. With the heat of battle and killing upon them, the company dared pluck Maryn’s body from under the noses of Umbris and PanUmbris shadows. But suddenly, all was quiet, as bloody chaos gave way to exhausted peace. Rune’s command that they retreat to a place of safety was quickly heeded and the party made way to the nearby lifestone. Though unwilling to let previous conversation remain unfinished, all seemed unwilling to revive it. Rune abruptly leapt in the air with a shout of glee. "Moira! Can you come to Baishi, to the Clan Hall?" Though Moira wished there were another answer, the truth of it was, she could, and sometimes, or so Moira thought to herself, speaking the truth was one of her many failings. She nodded in the affirmative. Rune spoke the words that bent time and space and was gone, others did the same, while still other, including Moira, made the run to the Mayoi portal, and from there traveled overland to Baishi.

Moira was indeed the last to arrive, as the prospect of returning to Baishi, and whatever waited, took the speed from her steps. As she slowly walked the steps leading to the doors of the Hall, it took all her resolve not to flee. For in fleeing she would need excuse, and if there were anything she would not do, it would be lie to kin, no matter the pain or sacrifice. She entered a small chamber to the left of the great room where private meetings were held. Upon entering, her awareness of others in the room dissolved before the realization that Brell, her monarch stood before her. She dropped to one knee, thankful for the appropriateness of the gesture, for her knees had nearly given way. "Milord" "Moira", Brell’s voice swelled with pride, gratitude, and respect and he knelt to her. Moira was stunned, every part of her wanted to scream "No…please milord…this is not right!" She grabbed for Nina’s thoughts. "Nina, make him stand!…please!" "You are deserving, regardless of what you might think." Nina’s firm but gentle response pushed Moira’s thoughts away. Brell continued despite Moira’s quiet plea for him to stand. "No Moira, I will kneel to you, until I have given you the tribute that you so deserve. You are a lesson to us all, and truly bear the mark of an Elder. You put the rest of the Circle to shame by you example. I would that you know this, and so you never forget…" Brell reached to his side, and only then did Moira see what was there. She grew dizzy and lightheaded. "For you, Moira, I have been wanting to do this for a long time", and with that he placed his gold yumi in Moira’s hands. Brell stood, and with feigned anger gently berated Moira for thinking she was unfit as an Elder, or consider leaving the Clan. His jovial state soon spread to others who had borne witness, Kyp and Bali, Nina, Ice Falcon, Itzit al’Thor, and others who Moira barely noticed for the dim haze that had risen from her sorrow and tears. The hours became late, and satisfied that all was once again right in the Clan Brell, one by one, people departed, ‘till only Moira remained alone with her thoughts. "They don’t understand…no one does…not even Djams…" The absence of her lover pushed the pain deeper ‘till her heart felt about to split asunder. Through vision dimmed by her weeping, she repeatedly read the delicate inscription resting gently upon the bow.

To my true and faithful friend Moira,
may this bow be of good service to you.

In sorrow, with awe, Moira ran her hands over the yumi time and again, till it fairly glistened with the dark shine of her tears.

Moira’s emotions faded with the night, and as dawn approached, she tiredly gathered herself to travel. Again, a run to the west, through the damp, web draped confines of the Maze, and she stumbled from the Mayoi portal as the sun leapt over the sea’s horizon.

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Last modified: November 14, 2000