[centre][h2]The Founding of Ha-Dûna[/h2][/centre] [i]Fourteen years before the burning of Thyma, somewhere west in the Boreal Highlands.[/i] Kaer Mirh rubbed his eyes intensely, as if trying to squeeze the exhaustion out of them. He hated watching the goats at night - not because he wasn’t fond of goats; in fact, he found them to be wonderful companions, giving wool, milk and, eventually, meat in exchange for protection and permission to nibble at the grass and hay. No, Kaer Mirh’s qualm was that watching the goats at night meant he wasn’t asleep, and he loathed the thought of disappointing the moon by not being asleep. Of course, it was only fair that he’d watch them. His brother Hama had kept watch all day, after all, and he couldn’t very well ask his pregnant wife Tegan, who had been busy tending to their two daughters. He supposed he could’ve called in a favour from one of the six other families travelling with them, but they all had their own tasks to tend to, and that wouldn’t be solving the problem either way, since, in the end, someone would have to stay up during the night to watch the goats. At least he wasn’t without conversation partners, though… A goat bleated a song to the grass, thanking it for a wonderful meal, while another was singing her kid a lullaby. The stones, including the one Kaer Mirh sat upon, all droned along with harmonically layered bass and baritone. In the distance, some owls tried their best to outperform their song. Tamed boreal stags droned a sombre blues about the qualms of being a pack animal. A beetle squeaked a high-pitched tune praising the flavour of goat dung. Kaer Mirh considered what it must be like to fall asleep without this constant flux of music buzzing in the background - he hadn’t know the sensation for many decades, and by now, he supposed a night without hearing the lovesong of the flora to the rain and morning dew would be a terrifying night indeed. He yawned, waking up a nearby goat kid, which eyeballed him sourly. He rose up from his stone and did his round again, making certain all fifteen goats were present. A rush of wind brought the scent of salt and sea to his nostrils - he hadn’t been this far west before, and this smell was unfamiliar. He hadn’t smelt its likeness for decades, at least. He started counting, groggy eyes following an equally lazy finger pointing out the goats among the rocks atop the hill he stood. Fourteen. The dissonance in expectation fueled some quickness into his mind again and waking eyes jumped from goat to goat once more, verifying what they had just seen. Fourteen again. He sucked in a breath through the nose and sighed. They hadn’t had a single runaway goat for a week - of course there had to be one when it was finally his shift. Well, he could either spend all night looking for it… Or… [centre][i] Been away for long, kid; Momma miss ye so, kid; Why won’t you come home, kid? Home to mommy’s herd. [/i][/centre] He stopped to listen. Some of the other goats woke up and sang to him: [centre][i] Farseer, farseer, farseer kind - Have we left a kid behind? [/i][/centre] Kaer Mirh spun around and raised his hands in a calming manner. [centre][i] Be not worried, goats of mine, For I assure you: All is fine. ‘Left behind’ are words with strength; He’s likely only skipped a length. A blink or two and I’ll be back, Regain whatever rest you lack. [/i][/centre] With that, the goats slowly went back to sleep one by one. Kaer Mirh sighed his relief and continued down from the hilltop. He passed by some tents belonging to one of the other families travelling with him and then arrived at the border of a great forest. He looked over his shoulder at the tents and took a deep breath: [centre][i] Little goat kid, are you here? It’s your friend, the kind farseer - I’ve come to bring you home to mom; It’s past your bedtime, now come on. [/i][/centre] Then, a faint, squeaking song replied: [centre][i] Farseer kind, I’m over here! I know I should be mother near, But here I found this fancy stone - I had to see it, ev’n alone! [/i][/centre] Kaer Mirh took a deep breath and sighed. Then he entered into the woods, the trees humming a sleepy plea for them to quiet down. Advance was slow, as the druid had to tap around the ground with his staff to bypass the zig-zagging pattern of roots and rocks. An owl hooted curiously at him, and a porcupine spat curses from below as Kaer Mirh’s bark-shoed foot nearly stepped on it. The druid pondered for a moment whether to plead Gibbou for better eyes in the night, but he was already overstepping his welcome by walking around when he should be asleep. Last thing he should do would be to come over as insolent and ungrateful - especially on the road like this. The forest was thickening and the trees grew taller. The scent of the sea, which by now grew rancid with rotting seaweed, was offensive to the nose. It was an aspect of Claroon, however, and thus had to be respected and loved. When he looked up through the canopy, he saw the moon’s wink grow clearer and clearer the deeper into the woods he came. Stepping over a few more roots, the stars peeked through, too, blinking and twinkling in a dance around the bright crescent moon. [centre][i] You’re close now, farseer - I can hear! Come now, come now, you must see! This rock is godly essence near - The Worldsong says just so to me! [/i][/centre] Kaer Mirh stopped to listen. The thousand voices of trees, stones, stars and animals echoed the kid’s statement. They sang: [centre][i] A stone a thousand ages old; A wall of trees like World Tree mold; A spot to gaze ‘pon every star; The spray of oceans, never far; Reflective puddles ‘round the stone, The rose and white of moons do hone; The Worldsong here is never done, For here shines best the light of Sun. [/i][/centre] As the verse came to a close, the spirits celebrated, and Kaer Mirh stepped into the clearing. He had seen the World Tree once, long, long ago - the trees weren’t even close to its height. Still, however, they were incredibly tall, taller than any tree he had ever seen in the highlands. Yet still, the stars and moon shone perfectly through the treetops - the whole night sky was visible above the clearing. Nearby, where he could see the foliage wasn’t as thick as the rest of the wall, he could hear the laps of the ocean licking at the beach not even two hundred paces away. Then, in the centre of the clearing, elevated on a slight rise and surrounded by spots of otherworldly clear water, was a large, sharp rock that arced towards the sky, upon which sat the goat kid, admiring the sky. Kaer Mirh approached, making certain not to step in any of the puddles along the way. He climbed onto the rock and sat himself down by the kid to join in on the stargazing. The kid bleated happily and drummed its cloven feet on the stone in excitement with a series of [i]tak-tak-taks[/i]. [centre][i] See, farseer - behold up high: The finest plot of Galbar sky! [/i][/centre] [centre][i] Certainly is, oh little goat. From tallest tree to smallest mote, All sights here are just divine! Gods’ blessings, goat kid, what a find! [/i][/centre] Kaer Mirh jumped to his feet, nearby tumbling forward as he hopped off the rock. He managed to skip over one of the tiny pools, but the hop finally made him lose his balance and roll down the small hill until his back crashed into a tree trunk. The kid skipped expertly down from the rock and hopped over, singing anxiously: [centre][i] Farseer, farseer, are you alright?! A fall like that, break bones, just might! [/i][/centre] But Kaer Mirh only cackled, maniacally almost, waving his arms and legs around in the air as he tried to get back on his feet. Above, the moon was waning as the sun began to blink over the distant horizon. The druid finally regained his footing, kicking up mud and grass as his legs propelled him into a sprint back through the woods. The goat kid followed faithfully, and the songs of the woods followed the action with baited breath: [centre][i] What now, what now? The druid has run off! With speed, his prow T’wards camp just did blastoff! Has he, this man, Received a holy sign? Perhaps this land Has just become a shrine? [/i][/centre] It took merely an hour for Kaer Mirh to return to camp, where the fourteen goats still laid peacefully, albeit now began to awaken from the ruckus. The kid bleated for its mother, who bleated back in a distracted manner as she eyed the druid run in full sprint from tent to tent, shouting for all to wake up. The kid hopped over to its mother and the two gently rammed heads in greeting. Eyeing the panting druid, the mother goat asked: [centre][i] Pray tell, advent’rous son of mine - Has this druid seen a sign? He’s skipping ‘round like Creit the Ram Waking every human, stag and lamb! [/i][/centre] The kid skipped up and down in its excitement: [centre][i] Mother dear, it’s quite the tale! See, I heard the Worldsong’s hail, And followed it to forests deep Where stones of ages past did sleep. I may be ‘llowing thoughts to run, But I think our months-long journey’s done. [/i][/centre] In the centre of the camp, groggy humans who had barely had time to put their clothes back on, rubbed their eyes as one. Morning mugs that believed they should’ve had at least an hour more of shut-eye affixed skeptical, even annoyed stares at Kaer Mirh, who was sporting a wicked mad grin in spite of his absolutely filthy, once-white robes. Being among his closest, his brother Hama stepped forth and spoke, “Mirh, what has you so worked up? We almost thought we were under attack when you came running, but we see neither any bandits nor bears to speak of. What is this about?” “I have found it, my kinsmen!” He gestured to the surrounding highlands, elevations and flats of grass and stone, save for the forest behind him, appearing like an oasis in a desert. The coast below reddened in the light of dawn, and distant herds of wild highland deer skipped after their leading stag. Cool winds blew in from the north and made the children huddle closer to their mothers. “This will be our new home,” declared the druid. The people looked around, some looking surprised, some skeptical; some satisfied, some outraged. “What’re we supposed to live off here? We know nothing of this place!” came a shout from the crowd. It wasn’t his own kin, but one of the other families. “You said we were stopping here to rest before we continue!” came another shout. Kaer Mirh waved his hands calmingly. “We wanted to travel west to escape Ketrefa’s expansion. We have travelled as far west as west goes - if we go further now, we will enter a land so different from what we know that we will likely be consumed by it.” He gestured to the surroudings again. “We are already almost a year’s journey from the Walled City. We are as safe here as we’ll ever be, once we get to know the lay of the land.” He pointed at the one who had shouted first. “Dairl, you and your clan used to work great fields out east, is that correct?” Dairl, a man who could in every way be described as broad, was taken aback as he was pointed at. “W-well, yes, of course! We were gaardskarls for generations before those slavers burnt everything we had and took my cousin’s family! What about it?” Kaer Mirh beckoned him up to the rise he stood on. Dairl followed, and as did the rest of the crowd, curious to see. Kaer Mirh pointed along the grasslain slope running down from the rise until it reached the sandy coast. It stretched as far as the eyes could see, containing both flatlands and highlands. The druid turned back to Dairl. “Could you and your kin work this soil, you think?” The farmer’s temper subsided and he brought a ponderous hand to his brownbearded chin. “... Well… The slopes will be hard - it’s tough work to plow and sow in such stoney ground. The lowlands will be easier, though.” “Can you do it?” Dairl shot Kaer Mirh a glare. “What, you doubt the ability of a gaardskarl?! You better watch your tongue, or I’ll--” “You’ll do what, exactly?” came a sharp snap from Hama behind Kaer Mirh, hand resting faithfully on his stone adze. Dairl’s sons saw the gesture and reached for their own tools, but Kaer Mirh raised his hands to them both. “I will not have animosity between us when we’re -this- close to finding a new home! Dairl, forgive me - I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. What I meant was whether you and your kin would be willing do work this land if we are to settle here.” Dairl scoffed and looked back over the land. Glares of challenge were still being exchanged between Dairl’s sons and Hama, who was now being backed up by his and Kaer Mirh’s cousins. As tensions began to spark, Dairl stuck out his hand in Kaer Mirh’s direction. “We’re not doing it for you. We’ll turn this land into a garden to prove, once and for all, that we gaardskarls cannot be outmatched.” Kaer Mirh smirked and raised a brow as he squeezed the hand. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” Dairl rolled his eyes and rumbled back down to his camp along with his kinsmen. Kaer Mirh felt a prick on his shoulder and turned to see Tegan, his wife, belly protruding slightly underneath her humble leather clothes. She offered him a worried expression, now clearly visible under the rising sun, and spoke, “Mirh, I’m certain this land is as good as any other, but… -Why- exactly here? You know what happened to Ragsam and his family, right? When they ventured south? We haven’t heard from them since. What if…” She paused. “What if we’re too close to the Prairie?” Kaer Mirh shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder. “It must be here, my love. There is no other choice. The Song sang thusly.” Tegan sighed. “Mirh, you know I love you and trust you in everything, but… None of us can hear it. None of us can hear this song you keep telling us about it. Are you sure you’re not…” The druid placed a finger over her lips, inciting a confused blink from her. “I’m not,” he said curtly and smiled weakly. “Trust me.” Tegan didn’t smile back, but pressed her lips together in a somewhat worried frown. “I do.” “Good,” said the druid. “Franser, could you come here a bit?” Kaer Mirh continued over to a different man whose trade was builder and started discussing acquisition of building materials. Tegan sighed again and caressed her belly moreso to soothe herself than the baby inside. His judgment hadn’t been wrong before, but it was never easy just accepting the existence of this mysterious song, no matter how many times he tried to explain it. She looked over at one of the goats, which looked back with its odd, flat-pupiled eyes. Another one behind it bleated loudly. No, these creatures definitely couldn’t sing. [hr] A year passed, and the settlement had grown from a population of thirty-three to eighty-one. During the four month, all forty membres of the Circle of the Long Stride had arrived to behold the [i]Dûna[/i], the moot stone, guided to it by a blinking star that had shone brighter than all for the duration of a moon cycle. All the druids who had arrived agreed: The [i]Dûna[/i] was a holy place, and it would serve as their meeting stone for all eternity. The growing settlement created work for those of neighbouring villages who had nothing to inherit, and bonds of allegiance formed between Ha-Dûna and its neighbours, as well as sparks of rivalry. Language barriers were hard to breach, but trade and favours spoke a thousand words. The druids of the Circle of the Long Stride decided the first year that the [i]Dûna[/i] and Ha-Dûna by extension should serve as the centre of their circle, and should strive to be a core hub of druidism in the highlands. Whenever they would go out to other villages to spread the word of the gods and tend to the inhabitants’ qualms, they would also make sure to spread the message that Ha-Dûna was a haven for druids and those devoted to the gods, and would accept all who would be willing to work in the name of divinity. After that, the meeting adjourned, and the druids once more travelled out into the highlands to perform their tasks, eager to see their capital grow into a jewel the gods could be proud of. A bastion to the glory of Fìrinn, Claroon, Gibbou, Reyia, Macsal, Seeros, Boris and the World Tree. [hr] [hider=SummaREEEE!] Kaer Mirh and about 30 others are travelling from eastern BH to avoid Ketrefa. Mirh sits out watching the goats when a goat kid runs off. He tries to find it with spiritsinging, but it says it’s found something dope. Mirh follows it into the centre of the woods and finds the [i]Dûna[/i], a normal rock that just so happens to be in a very, very elementally significant spot (see Prestigios for summary). Mirh’s psyched af, runs back to his people and says, “yo, we gotta settle here”. After some bickering, they do. Ha-Dûna is now the druid capital of North Toraan. [/hider] [hider=Prestigios!] Circle of the Long Stride: 10. 18k+ characters = +5 prestigios. -5: Found a settlement - Ha-Dûna, founded next to the Dûna, the moot stone, a pointed boulder in a forest clearing close by the sea, where the tree cover surrounding the clearing leaves the sun, the moons and the stars in perfect view. There are also reflective puddles around the stone, and the area is a hub of spiritsinging things. Also merely a month’s travel away from the Sunlit Temple. -8: Cause a major cultural shift - Druid moots and the culture of moot grounds: Druids (on Northern Toraan for now), whether part of the Circle of the Long Stride or not, will find themselves non-consecrated holy sites (typically places of great significance to one or more of the Eight) where they will meet once a year to discuss the past year and plan the following year, a so-called moot. OOCly, this also serves as the time and area where druidic circles can spent prestige. Moot grounds also serve as recruitment grounds and schools for new druids if no other academic institution is present in the area. End: 2 prestigios. [/hider]