KOHKOL: Session 01 -- An Age Old Struggle Report

General Summary

Ticks. I have grown used to them.     I don't mean clef-tycks. Real ticks. They live in beards like mine. It's a hazard of living on the trail. It may be why many travelers of the wilds are clean-shaved. I like my beard.     I hate ticks.     I believe I was chosen from the Order as I seem more akin to the arrivals. I’m not a man for “elaboration”. That’s what I’m told by the kosstelian. The Order of the Feather are mostly elaborate that way. I’m different. I think about why I was chosen for the Order sometimes. Grand Master Sivan, you said I’m more than suitable according to your readings. I live with that in mind.     Of the travelers with Sire Renaissance, I like the looks of them. They are not a fanciful party. I’m more or less at my ease to parley with them. One in particular strikes me as my kind of man. He is called Mifooney by his companions. His rough manner and quietness is welcome to me. His beard is cut close but still manages to be a ragged thing. Ticks would find it a goodly home. Another too has a beard. His name is Tuan Zi. His beard is a more fulsome thing and kempt. I’m not so sure that ticks would be welcome in that well-tended field. It is clear that Tuan Zi keeps his beard furrowed by comb and watered by bathing often. A miserable place for a home. The last man is named Gerard. A tree trunk of a fellow. Such brawn that I’m reminded of reports of a man named Rhegules. This traveler matches much but not all the words I’ve heard about this Rhegules. Gerard is dressed too much and too well to be the other. His great cloak is made from a monstrous-looking hide, all shades of blue. Some gryphons are said to have this colouration in both feather and hide though I have yet to see this for myself. A fair accomplishment, worthy of renown, if Gerard has skinned such a creature on his own. He is off-hand with me but I’m not given to tilt with him, as I am here for the Sire of my Order. Of Renaissance I will not make comment. He is Sire after all. His manner is not for me to consider.     I introduce myself and they make me feel at ease. Not entirely welcome but it is enough. There’s some carefulness in these travelers. I shouldn’t be offended at small things, being of the Feather, so I forgive their lack of offering me a seat and of their wishes for me to bathe. Introduction is done with so I give in to their wish and take a room upstairs. I tidy myself from my journey and return downstairs. I must add that what I said in my last message should be removed from the reporting. The second son of the Halkan king shouldn’t be considered a problem for the Order. It is an overstatement that he wanted the vast children enslaved. It is a fact that a small stipend was exchanged between him and the vast who gave him the children. I still dislike the practice but this tithe is paid regularly as far as I understand.     When I return to the table, several tankards have clearly been consumed but the nature of the party’s words are strictly orderly. Plans are openly discussed with Gerard and Mifooney electing to remain in the Freehold. I think they bear watching. At this point a servant tells the Sire that a visitor requests his presence outside. I know this visitor by reputation. He is one of the tinkers. I believe he is an elder as the name of Handfist is gaining renown though not for always appropriate reasons. The tales I’ve heard of this tinker make me want to talk to him but the Sire is clearly wanting a private parley so I remain inside the tavern.     When some time has passed I make my way outside. Like all tinkers, this Handfist has a long beard. It might be home to a few ticks. .. it could house an entire koss's worth! The two seem to have a manner of long acquaintance. I’d say they have lived together as their words are only half-uttered when the other seems to grasp the intent of the unspoken half. Things are exchanged without words as well. A sign of long-standing between the two. Why the Sire would have such a familiarity with a tinker I’m not sure. Tinkers are incarnate’s golems, after all. I will talk to the Sire when I’m allowed to learn more of this mystery. The tinker tells a fairy tale of his lost tinker friends. The Sire is full of apparent interest in this tinker’s tale and tells us all to attend it and to follow the tinker’s track. The little fellow is as talkative as the stories tell. Much nonsense he does spew as we make our way at his whim. He brings us to the recently arrived Mount Koss. I’m a little surprised by the tinker’s boldness. This is a place of still unknown peril. I can see that the Sire seems unmoved at the sight of the mount. The tinker tells of how the other longfellows entered the koss and therein were whisked away by a lensing. Good riddance to bad tinkers I’d say. The Sire shows more concern and it is then that the tinker points out a noble bird sat upon a prominence overlooking Mount Koss. This is news to me. That this bird is somehow a part of the new koss’s purpose is beyond clear. The creature seems worthy. The more so for its disdain for the tinker.     The Sire follows along with the tinker’s desire to enter the koss. Inside is a strongly columned hall. At the centre of the place as close as I can say, we enter a chamber. It is six-sided. Our entry is the sixth and the other five sides are all lens portals. The nature of the Freehold is reinforced once more! I don’t want to assume you know of these portals, Grand Master. Forgive my stating a known thing to you if true.     Sire Renaissance’s cunning mind is finally revealed as he first encourages the tinker to step after his fellows’ choice of portal and then tells the rest of us to desist in going after him. I’m relieved to report that the Sire is no fool to be lured by a tinker’s tales of gold and riches...     Instead the Sire chooses a lens portal that will take us to the borderlands of Soghn. I’m well-versed in Soghn’s pondlands and am happy enough to remain quiet at this turn of fortune.     We emerge in a nameless, village ruins. Unnamed to me and I tell the others this. It might be that the Sire knows its name as he looked about the place with some interest on his face. He made to summon his mount and the creature appeared as in the poem. Orange as is said. It could only be Temeriel. Happily, I was able to whistle up my own horse. Bohrs is not Orange but he is my loyal mount. .. Tuan Zi has no need for a mount. So he says. He will rather travel upon the winds. I had not guessed till then that this Zi is a Heathen caster. Much to the better that he is. I keep my own thoughts as to how he will manage to keep up should we do more than a canter. He’d best be more akin to a wind-runner at that point! I trust he has great stamina and speed afoot when needed. As we depart, I see a white cat of a lion’s size. It seems to be a trained creature of Tuan Zi’s by its movements about us. I think he might do better to ride upon this creature than walk the winds but he must have reason not to do so.     The pondlands are as invigorating as ever. I find my mind thinking on the many times I have traveled here. The ponds are filled with fish of many varieities, many good for the eating. Campfire cooked fish of Soghn! Some of the best feeds I’ve ever had. We do not even get to setting up a campsite. From a wooded area ahead of our party, the sounds of a roused party of men reaches us. It is clear to me that these are knights of some kind. I instruct the party to ‘ware the woods and they listen well. From the wood, a massed party emerges. They are led by Sir Kalodes of the Stag’s. These and he are known to me by reputation. I tell my party of them. The Sire takes parley with Kalodes and terms are agreed to. The stag knights will disperse from the wood and grant passage to us through the pondlands, in exchange for 250 marques. A marque of silver a man seems fair so I do not interfere. Kalodes eyes are widened by Renaissance’s golden coins. It is princely coinage to be sure.     I watch the stag knights move back into the wooded area. I see the white lion moving beside them. For some reason I can’t understand, the horses of the knights don’t get alarmed by the closeness of the great cat. Even the breeze favours the horses’ chances of detecting the creature but still they show none of the unease they should. I realise that Bohrs hadn’t seemed distressed during our journey either. Strange… A short time after this, the lion returns. It walks straight at us and becomes a beautiful lady. I’m not able to speak at this magick. It is clear she is a known Heathen caster to the party. That she favours Tuan Zi only makes sense. It may be that they are related in some fashion. Both of them wear a fashion of clothing similar. Perhaps they share some schooling or are a part of an order of their own world?     It emerges from the woman that there is a knightly prisoner held by the stags. The stag knights believe they’ve executed the fellow but the Heathen woman insists he lives. If true, this knight would be a wellspring for us in our introduction to Soghn nobility. Sire Renaissance takes my meaning to heart and acts in bold fashion. Seizing up the standard left behind by the stags to mark their boundary, he enters the wood. A broken standard and terse words are given and to my surprise, Kalodes accepts the challenge for a duel. It is not an aberrant thing to do.     When the trial’s combatants had readied at the pond, Sir Kalodes surprised again by deferring the contest in favour of handing over the ‘corpse’ of the knight prisoner. The prisoner was duly brought forth by two teams of knights and is rudely dropped into the pond. Attached as he was to the pole he was bound to, he floated well enough for us to gather him to the shore. We talked over the means to best secure his health. I favour leaving the arrow in the man’s eye socket. Tuan Zi wants to remove it because even should the knight die, he can animate the corpse… I am unnerved by the casual reference to death and aping life’s gift. The others seem less shocked than me. I would ask the Sire what this means but there isn’t a good moment. In the end, knowing that he is Sir Orves of the Koss of Goeival, we elect to leave him be until we can get him safely there. A trek of a few hours only. I lead the party toward the koss. There is no trouble from the stag knights.       We arrive and take in the koss and its command of the plain and woods about it. A fine koss. Sir Goeival is a goodly knight it seems. The hamlet we pass through smells of good, grown food and contented animals. I point out to the party that the people here are well provided for and they seem to make a note of this. We reach the koss’s gatehouse and the attendant soldiery is happy enough to admit us, once they see Sir Orves in our care. I remind myself that this might well be a ploy to use to enter a koss at some future time, Grand Master. Sir Goieval welcomes us with some distraction as is to be expected with his retainer’s health so perilous. We are given lodging in the east tower until the dawn. I choose to sleep with Bohrs and the stablers. There are a few ticks in the hay I sleep in. I just know it.         I will send a new message in three days time. Please send more feathered casements? I am running short of them.       Sir Gier