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[h2]Grand Preparations[/h2]
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[sub][i]Year 30AA, autumn, surface reefs south of Ha-Dûna...[/i][/sub]

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“There - that should do the trick,” said Boudicca upon tightening the knot. A linen scarf had been wrapped around a pack of cooked meat, juices soaking into the fabric. She had tied a thick fiber rope around the lined again and placed it neatly in the centre of their trap. She and thirty other experienced hunters had taken the day-long trip south to [abbr=”The Land of Coral Trees”][i]Seejentún[/i][/abbr], a large and well-exposed land reef full of life and resources. Here, they had corresponded and traded with the local Meike and Doserung peoples, exchanging ideas, stories and goods in good, fraternal faith. Boudicca had drunk honeywine with the Doseung chief and the other elders and the village had all feasted on delicious caproshrimp barbeque and shorecattle tartar, served with seaweed, shore apples, saltberries and many other fruits of the sea. Afterwards, the elders had gathered the children and the foreigners and shared stories from the sea, of great Vrool tyrants and their Akuan champions, of majestic Merelli beauties and sirens who would lure sailors ashore to the north, never to be seen again - the clever escapades of one they called “Gra’al” were told over and over with the intensity and admiration of a Gaardskarl sharing the story of Gaard Goldhair. It seemed uncanny to the Dûnans to hold a monster such as [abbr=Dûnan pronounciation of Graalusxarulz, the Terror of the Rivers]Grallus[/abbr], but nothing that received the praise the Doserung gave it could possibly be all bad, could it?

The trip was as much a break for the sanndatr as it was a diplomatic mission: The flaming tensions in Ha-Dûna were too much to bear, even for her, and when she had received an invitation to travel down south to meet with the Doseung and Meike, she just had to accept. She found herself confiding in one particular Doserung chief, one Bonursan Chirrut, a man ten years her senior with open ears, a calming aura and small, black horns on his head - uncannily, though, he did not look a day older than his son.

“I… I feel like I’ve lost sight of our mission, our purpose - and only after one year! Ha-Dûna has been united for one year and we are already breaking apart at the seams again!” she had complained to him over the fire as she sat alone with the chief, his son Yip, ambassador of their people, translating for him. The chief never said much, usually nodding for her to continue whilst thoughtfully sipping his sweetkelp tea as she took him through the past year and all the horrors. Eventually, the sanndatr descended onto her forearms on her knees, head hanging hopelessly from her shoulder. “I just don’t know what to do.”

Normally, it would be odd for an elect such as herself to confide in a foreign chief; however, Boudicca had learned from Yip that the Doserung value honesty and the sharing of information as the highest virtue, and that secret-keeping was synonymous with lying. Thus, when the chief eventually spoke back, he would to anyone beyond his own people have sounded most rude and insulting - Boudicca confessed to herself that she grew furious at his diction, but the message itself was sound:

“The way I see it,” the chief had said through Yip, “you are showing your people your inability to make rational decisions for the good of all. Like the people, you allowed yourself to be swept by emotion and take the popular, but foolish road to vengeance. I realise that unpopularity is all you have reaped throughout this whole year, but a mighty leader faces the wrath of their people for the good of their people.” Before she could retort, the chief had raised his hand. “I realise my words may seem uncouth to outsiders, but know that I speak no lies. You have the potential to make Ha-Dûna the pearl of the north - my son tells me it already is a sight to behold; however, you must not let yourself stray from the path of [abbr=Doserung prime diety of the cosmos.][i]Murr-shom-windo[/i][/abbr]. Maintain stability at all costs, and you will be remembered as strong; give way to chaos, and you will only be remembered as its herald.”

The sanndatr had taken his words to heart, and after another few days in the cold, yet beautiful paradise between land and sea, she had returned home with a caravan filled to the brim with the fruits of the ocean and land reef. As soon as she returned to Ha-Dûna, she gathered all the [i]théins[/i] and their [i]hildargeach[/i], their bloodsworn clansfolk, and had them all swear fealty to her under Fìrinn once more. Most did so without question, some did it reluctantly, and three took quite some time to convince. Their argument against the oaths was that this sort of behaviour was much too similar to what they were doing in Old Ketrefa - a queen demanding the loyalty of her subjects. If Boudicca wanted their loyalty, she would have to earn it. 

And so Boudicca said, “Very well… I hereby declare that [i]théin[/i] Aifric be given the title of Chief Constable, and that all her [i]hildargeach[/i] be given the ranks of [abbr=Law-person][i]dlíling[/i][/abbr]. From now on, they are tasked with policing this city and making certain stability reigns supreme. We shall not break apart again - not so long as I live!”

Initial reactions were unsurprisingly trapped between anger and shock - the act was compared to mad kings and queens of the past, and fears over the effects of this constabulary on freedom to act and live in the free, Dûnan way were voiced multiple times. However, they all grew silent as the constables took to the streets, their uniform a black leather armour and a silver talisman around their necks with two symbols: the eye, the sigil of Fìrinn, and the book, the symbol of Taeg Eit. However, the constabulary almost immediately grew much larger than its constables - in secret, Boudicca had permitted Aifric to recruit spies from all walks of life to make sure no one could plot behind her back. 

She then summoned the three largest clans in the city to her hut: The Tegosep, traditionally a rival clan of her own, the Metsep. It was the largest Gaardskarl clan - not much larger than the Metsep, but still very large; the Blanche, the strongest Brasfortsian clan, and rival of Aifric’s clan Sûr-le-Mont, as well as the Metsep; and the du Pierre, an ally of the Sûr-le-Mont, rival of the Metsep, though not a rival of the Blanche. Common among all of them, though, was a shared disdain for Boudicca’s leadership. At first the Tegosep head, Ur-Dairl, had refused to come altogether.  That had been a grave mistake, for neither the Blanche nor the du Pierre were particularly fond of the Tegosep, either. When Ur-Dairl finally chose to answer the summons, he was promptly informed that he was no longer welcome by order of the [abbr=”Great théins”][i]mórthéins[/i][/abbr], Charlix of Blanche and Clement du Pierre. Furious, Ur-Dairl returned to his estate, only to discover that his clan had been banished from it, and that agents from the Blanche and du Pierre already were dividing his lands between themselves. He questioned their mandate and was told that the Tegosep had been declared “agents of unrest” by the Constabulary and that his family had been arrested. His clansmen, meanwhile, had been given the choice - to submit themselves and take up work on another farm and be compensated for their loyalty to the Dûnan order, or to face arrest as well and be disinherited and disowned in the eyes of the gods. Ur-Dairl’s cousins, siblings and bloodsworn had joined his family in the Temple of Law, but his farmhands, cooks, scribes, druids… All had taken up office elsewhere, though with a guilty conscience.

It was at this point when word reached Boudicca of the terrible loss of Ha-Leothe. It reached her in secret at first, and she had spent almost two days inside the smoking house trying desperately to calm her nerves. With pipe in hand and lungs full of calming pipeweed, she pondered as hard as she could while cursing her folly. To think this was actually happening - a foreign warlord was making his way towards Ha-Dûna, and he was winning. The loss of Ha-Leothe and of [i]théin[/i] Valix was tremendous - the village was Ha-Dûna’s main supplier of copper, and Valix had been a charismatic athlete admired by all; to see both vanish like smoke before an enemy they knew nothing about would surely devastate the Dûnan morale before it could even be built. Worse yet, while she was still planning her next move with her advisors, word came of songs of praise in the name of the foreign conqueror Jonwayo - the eastern [i]théins[/i] and their villages were joining him one by one; the lack of loyalty was blamed on Valix’ arrogance, how his stubbornness in the face of impossible odds had gotten Ha-Leothe burned to the ground. 

Immediately, Boudicca ordered the [i]mórthéins[/i] and the Constabulary to send peacekeepers out to their nearest villages and spread a counter-message: 

[centre]“People of the Dûna - hear the words of your sanndatr: A great many evils have tested our people of late, and this latest pest that plagues our glorious civilisation may be the worst yet. The foreign ‘zar is nothing short of a bloodthirsty villain - Valix tried to reason with him at the gates of Ha-Leothe, but Jonwayo, the incarnation of Sigeran himself upon this world, wanted to send the Dûnans a message written in blood with a pen of bone. Alongside his lieutenant of sin, the traitor Darragh, they water our lands with the blood of our people, slaughtering everyone to the last babe. I implore you, therefore, take what provisions you need, burn your crops and your storages, and make for Ha-Dûna as quickly as you can - here, we will shelter you and keep you safe from this evil menace. We will make it through this test of piety as we have made it through every other.”[/centre]

With this message, naturally, came the news that Ha-Leothe had fallen, and Boudicca made certain to emphasise the brutality of the Celeviaks every chance she got. After this, she sent out diplomats to the five [i]Ikdûni[/i] tribes, the Mink, the Swadi, the Nubveians, the Doserung and the Bastians, asking humbly for any help they could give. The first to answer was the Great Bull, [abbr=King, literally “son of Weybutu”, the bison ancestor of humanity according to Nubveian mythos.][i]mweweybutu[/i][/abbr]Weymbierka of the Nubveians. He came to Ha-Dûna himself, as he ofttimes did to visit his sister, Greatmother Ugulele, and offered Boudicca forty of his strongest men, the legendary Buffalo Riders of the Prairie. His contribution was hailed among the Dûnan people, and the Nubveian king was showered in gifts of riches, clothing and jewelry from distant lands as thanks.

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Second to come was chief Bonursan Chirrut of the Doserung. As the possibility of a great battle in the not-too-distant future grew loomingly, the chief had brought along stockfish and sea salt to preserve food with, as well as sixty hunters from his own tribe and his cousins’ tribes. Many displayed thick, black horns, a sign of their strong Merelli heritage, and many also had scaly skin and fins where there should have been hair, showing too their close ties with the Akuan peoples of the northern sea. The hunters were armed with land reef coral, brittle, yet frighteningly sharp - Chirrut himself wielded a frightening weapon fashioned from reeds and shark teeth, a gift from the people of the sea. He pledged himself and his men to Boudicca, vowing that he, himself, would fight alongside her for the fate of their mightiest ally.

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Third to come was Pride-King Koisa the Leon of the Swadi, cousin of the father of none other than Hilda the Leoness. He proclaimed he would have been the first to pledge himself, and that the only reason he had taken so long was that he had been compelled to gather more soldiers than anyone else. He had been devastated at the news of his cousin’s curse, and had mourned for a fifteen days and fifteen nights, as was custom when such relatives would pass - afterall, it was to the children of cousins titles such as king would pass to, and Hilda had been part of the royal line, though not the prime heir. For months, the Pride-King had cursed the Cenél for their actions and had been eagerly waiting for the chance to annihilate them. He had brought no fewer than one hundred warriors, the finest archers on the Prairie. Armed with the Swadi foot bow, they would be a force to be reckoned with.

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Fourth came Prince Olsanmaar of Bast, brother of the dûnanised scribe Ratinmaar, both sons of King Ki’ogmaar of Bast, followed by ten giant men - and these were truly giant; each of them stood two metres and three quarters and had skin as gray as stone. They had monstrous features the likes of which had never been seen in Ha-Dûna before: Noses like logs, hugely overbitten jaws that were as big as cabbage heads, hunkered, clumpy backs and arms and legs like pinewood trunks. Some had heard the legends, but only the most well-travelled druids had seen them before: the Bastian Troll-Men. Armoured in bronze with proportions that could fit no other human (if they could even be considered such) and armed with warpicks that could spear a wild boar. While nobody asked why he had brought so few, the prince read the room quickly and proclaimed that the Bastian Troll-Men were the greatest warriors in the world, and that one was worth at least ten normal footmen. 

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Last to come was Old Crone Svyetlana of the Mink, and it was evident already before she arrived that she had not wanted to come. It was understandable, too: The Mink had for generations been very good friends with the Cenél - they had exchanged both culture and marriages for centuries before the Dûnans had arrived. Furthermore, the vast majority of Mink, including the Old Crone herself, could trace their lineages out east into the distant mountains, so they felt a familial bond to the Celeviak, as well. However, Boudicca knew this well, and she had made certain to let the Old Crone know, in secret, that every Mink in Ha-Dûna could become hostages overnight if she did not cooperate. Svyetlana had many children, siblings and cousins in the city, and thus had no choice. She brought as many of her Death-Singers as she had to without seeming outright impolite, a total of ten. 

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With all the auxiliaries gathered, Boudicca had the [i]théins[/i] drill them in defensive tactics for then the battle would come. The language barrier was surmounted thanks to the stellar work of translators, though some cultural schisms, like whenever Doserung uncouthly spoke their minds, would arise from time to time.

Boudicca then sent orders to the Brewer’s Guild, telling them to make as much light ale as they could. It wasn’t easy, but after gathering all the grain that could be spared them, plus any roots, fruits and vegetables that could be brewed, the Guild got to work. The first batches were done in a few days, tapped early to avoid the brew reaching a strength wherein the soldiers couldn’t drink it. Some batches were left for longer and sweetened with honey - this would become wine for medicinal use. After it was tapped on glass flasks, it was heavily spiced with caraway seeds and coriander to infuse it with their healing properties. Their hard work soon bore fruit - their skill and diligence had left the city with enough beer for everyone to quench their thirst. This would come in handy for a possible long siege.

Boudicca then went to the Circle of the Long Stride, seeking to enlist the aid of the druids to reinforce Dûnan morale and defensive capabilities. She ordered them to shore up the city’s walls and reach out to the animals and the spirits of the Highlands and turn them against the Celeviaks - the sheep, cows and goats should run away from them, and the weather around them should be cruel and cold to slow them as much as possible. Many druids were initially reluctant to do so, but as soon as Boudicca threatened to revoke their permission to use the resthouses, protests grew rarer and rarer. A group ventured out of Ha-Dûna and made preparations all around the most likely marching routes the Celeviak would take: They asked the trees to withhold their fruits; they asked the heavens to bring icy rain upon their enemies when they would approach; they asked the mud in the ground to give way and send soldiers down from their mountain passes and into the abysses. Many requests failed, but wherever the druids prayed in groups, traps could be laid, and they laid three grand ones which each would cause great detriment to the enemy’s advances:

At the northern shore, the druids beseeched the creatures of the surface reefs. After singing to them for days upon days, the first to come was the tidal jackal, intrigued by the druid’s promise that if they helped them, they could eat away at the enemy’s provisions as much as they’d like. Second to come was the barnacle flier, who was surprised to hear that the marching humans also had food that was small enough for even her to eat. Lastly came the bearfish, who had been reluctant to show up on account of the risk to her personal safety - she was no small creature, and if she were to be spotted, the beach would be her tomb. The druids promised that her efforts would be rewarded tenfold if she helped them, and that they would leave offerings for her cubs should she be slain. After much thought, the bearfish agreed.

In the central Dûnlands, the druids beseeched the heavens for rain - icy rain that would cause sickness to spread and make the ground slippery and hostile, possibly causing landslides. Here, too, it took long time for the heavens to listen, but after making sacrifices of ink and spending the days singing and the nights reading the ink in the sky and the lights of the moons, the heavens saw that the druids were sincere and agreed, though the rain would not last until the enemy would reach Ha-Dûna - it would last three days, and that would be it. Should the druids demand more, this would require additional sacrifice. The druids, stretched to the end of their capacity already, agreed and returned home.

For the southern Dûnlands where the crossing of the Misanthir would take place, Boudicca had a plan already. It was the most likely place the Celeviaks would cross, as crossing any further north would take them too close to Ha-Dûna. She prayed quietly that she had enough to negotiate with with the god in question and left her home to go to the Circle of the Gods. However, as she left her door, she was stopped by a constable who saluted her.

“Sanndatr! We have a problem!”

Boudicca swore under her breath. Tensions had never been higher in the city, with dissatisfaction with the new order already causing fights to break out multiple times per day. If any single thread were to snap, the entire web holding Ha-Dûna together would break into nothing. She turned and spat a little more harshly than she had intended, “What, what is it?”

The constable straightened up. “S-ser! The Temple of the Moon! We received word that there was a great cacophony inside during the night and went to investigate. The monks, nuns and druids all seemed livid and maddened, drinking and feasting as though tomorrow was the end of days. As we investigated, it would seem that this has been going on for a week!”

The sanndatr scowled. “Drinking and feasting? Do they not realise we are rationing our supplies?”

The constable shook her head. “Ser! They do not seem to be responsive to anything save for hedonism! It, it may be best for you to come see for yourself.”

The sanndatr looked over at the Circle of the Gods and cursed once more. “Very well. Bring seven constables more and meet me there as soon as you can. I’m going ahead.” Before the constable could respond, she had already stormed off, a dark scowl on her face. Nothing would break this city apart again - nothing. 

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They met at the Temple of the Moon where there already was great revelry inside. Crowds had gathered around to witness the craziness, and open windows revealed all sorts of debauchery going on inside. Boudicca glared and shook her head. “We are in the middle of a war and this is what our priesthood resorts to… Go inside and find the High Mother and have her explain what is the meaning of this.”

“At once, ser!” said the constables and hurried inside. Impatiently, Boudicca waited, her foot drumming the dirt road street. Carefully, a woman approached her from behind and asked respectfully,

“Sanndatr, what is happening?”

Boudicca regarded her and then the greater gathering with tired eyes. She sighed, closed her eyes and turned back to the temple. “We will know soon enough. Everyone, please return to your homes and your duties and--”

Suddenly, the door curtain was shoved aside, one of the constables sprinting out with another under her arm. The remaining six were nowhere to be seen. The crowd gasped as one and Boudicca felt her breathing quicken. “What’s going on in there, constable?!” she demanded.

“Madness, sanndatr!” the constable responded windedly. “They’ve all gone off their rockers - every single one of them!” The constable under her arm looked utterly exhausted, eyes rolling under the lids and breathing wheezing. He was laid down on the ground and Boudicca knelt next to him. 

“Fetch a druid! Swiftly!” She blinked at the constable who had brought him out. “What happened? How did he get like this?”

The constable shook her head. “I, I don’t know! Firion took the lead, then we stepped into a dimly lit room wherein there was some… Some kind of, of sinful debauchery. We tried to arrest the deviants, but they were absolutely insane, as though under the effects of both weed, berries, wine and mushrooms. Worse yet, when Firion reached out to grab the High Mother, he… He changed.”

Boudicca frowned. “Changed?” She stood up to make way for some quickly approaching druids and pulled the constable aside. “What do you mean, changed?”

“They… They suddenly grew very quiet and still, much like him. And then they… They turned. Firion snatched a wine bottle right out of one of the debaucher’s hands and started drinking as though he hadn’t drunk for days. When the other constables tried to restrain him, they became like him. Only I made it out with Murion there.” 

Boudicca made hard eyes at her and took a step away from her. “Are you saying this madness… Spreads? Like some sort of disease?”

The constable noted her movement and waved her hands defensively. “Don’t worry - I made sure not to touch anyone.”

Boudicca pointed at Murion on the ground. “How about him? I saw you carry him out.” The constable blinked over and swallowed.

“I… I don’t think I--”

“Sanndatr!” said one of the druids. Boudicca turned to her.

“Hmm?”

“He’s trying to say something…” Boudicca and the constable looked and one another and then hurried over to Murion.

“Speak, brave soldier. I’m here,” said the sanndatr. The man’s eyes looked lazily around, red and bloodshot; his tongue looked swollen and sticky; his lips looked dry and chaffed. 

“... ine…”

The sanndatr leaned in. “Say again, would you?”

“... Wine… Please…”

The druid blinked. “It… It would seem he’s asking for wine, ser.” Boudicca raised herself back up, eyes wide.

“Everyone, step back from him!” Everyone kicked back in a flash, leaving the man alone in the middle of their gathering. Boudicca wrapped her cloak tighter around herself and pointed at him. “He is infected with some unknown disease! Do not touch him!” She eyed the temple, laughter, crying and other debaucherous noises roaring from the inside. “... This entire temple must be quarantined.”

“Wh… You mean to seal off the Temple of the Moon?! Hall of the Protector?!” shouted the druids.

“We cannot afford to let a disease spread throughout our city! We can only ward off the infected and wait for the sickness to pass. If this disease turns you into a maddened sinner such as those found in there, then it must not spread further! Bring wood and boards!”

As workers ran to and fro with building materials, the constable approached carefully. “Ser, if I may… How will the people inside survive if we board them inside?”

“We will funnel in supplies for them to live off of. It is all we can do in these trying times… Curses, why did this have to happen now?”

The constable nodded slowly. “Agreed, ser… What, what shall we do with Murion?”

Boudicca eyed the man on the ground who looked to grow increasingly livid at the absence of wine, twisting and turning as though in pain. She grimaced and looked at the temple. “We will have him put inside with the others and pray they will all survive.” She frowned down at the constable. “... You will bring him inside.”

The constable blinked. “M-me?”

“You touched him. We cannot afford to take the risk that you aren’t infected.” She pointed at the druid who had treated Murion. “That goes for you, too.”

The druid gasped and one of her colleagues stepped in front of her. “Kaer Liose is a most accomplished medicine woman! We cannot condemn her to imprisonment in a den of sin!”

With that, Boudicca drew her sword and protests fell silent. “It pains my heart that it must be this way…” She pointed her sword between the druid and the constable. “... But order must be maintained.”

The constable started whimpering. “Sanndatr, please…”

“Hold your tears, constable. Your unwillingness to offer yourself for the safety of all is shameful.” She quieted down, but her body broke down into a silent sob. She turned to the temple entrance, whimpered some more and stepped inside. Kaer Liose on the other hand, seemed furious. She took the body of Murion and helped him over to the doorway. Before she stepped inside, she turned to Boudicca and glared.

“Know, sanndatr, that I offer myself for the people of Ha-Dûna; the gods will judge which one of us is right in this.” Then she stepped inside. 

Boudicca looked at the others who had gathered and furrowed her brow. “Alright, seal up the temple! I do not want a single soul entering or leaving. I must go pray.”

With that, she stormed off as hammers and planks knocked against each other behind her. She hastened over to the Ring of the Gods before anyone could stop her and knelt down before the statue of Caden the Brave. She folded her hands and whispered, “Great Caden, are you there? I come humbly before you in a time of great need… Our city, our civilisation is under attack, and our foe is foreign and wicked in his tactics. Please… Can this unworthy being ask for your aid once more, you who have aided me so many times before?”

For a minute, there was only silence. Then, there was a light [i]crack[/i] in the air, the result of a small tear in reality, which slowly expanded until there was a swirling vortex between her and the statue. 

Before she could get up, or reply in any form, three men stepped out. Their skin and hair were of varying colours, unlike that of any human, and textured in a way that reminded her of Shae. Each held a banner mounted on a ten-foot long silvery pole - one blue, one green, and one purple, and on each banner was a clenched steel fist. They assembled around Boudicca and, with theatrical precision, thrust the tips of their banners into the dirt.

[color=violet][i]Time is short, so I shall be brief,[/i][/color] Cadien’s voice spoke within her mind, and any who might be observing. [color=violet][i]I gift you three standards bearing my symbol. The Blue Standard of Focus, the Green Standard of Vigour, and the Purple Standard of Strength. Each one will bolster your army in some manner, so long as it is kept pointed at the sky by one who serves a noble cause. Find three trusted individuals to carry them; those who would rather die before allowing their standard to hit the ground, for if it does, you will disrespect my symbol and its blessing shall fail until it is picked back up again.[/i][/color]

The portal began to shrink. Taking that as their queue, the three Songmen let go of the banners, leaving them embedded in the dirt as they turned and retreated back to the realm from whence they came. The portal closed behind them.

[color=violet][i]That will be all. Choose the standard bearers well, and carry them into battle in my name.[/i][/color]

Boudicca lowered her forehead to the ground, and all who witnessed the portal and the standards appear did the same. “Thank you, Great Caden, from the bottom of our hearts. Our loyalty is forever yours.” She sat back up and shouted, “Kaer Pier!”

The eldest of the druids hurried over to the extent that he could, arriving a small while after she called for him. “Yes, sanndatr?”

“Find me the champions Frode the Enduring, Kuhbelo of Swadi and Axe-Fist Leif. I choose them to be the carriers of Caden’s banners.”

“At once, ser,” replied the druid fraily and slowly hobbled along. Boudicca moved to the next statue, the statue of Boris, the colossal boar of the southern mountains. She drew her breath and asked with the same sincerity:

“Great Boris, master of stone… I come to you in our hour of great need. An enemy is on the horizon and I humbly ask for aid. Are you there?”

However, there came no answer. Boudicca nodded slowly and stood up. She had dearly hoped that the crimes against the hills of Ha-Leothe would have incited the boar’s ire, but it seemed that his long-lasting silence would last longer still. She moved on to Gibbou’s stone and repeated her prayer. There once again came no answer, not even when she asked about the outbreak of disease in the temple. The moon goddess’ silence irked the sanndatr, but she nonetheless apologised for the measures she had taken at the temple and moved on. 

Reiya’s stone was as beautiful as ever, being the most well-decorated of them all. She repeated her prayer and was met with silence. However, after a short while, there came a promise: [color=gold]“You are not alone,”[/color] said that familiar silken voice. Boudicca found herself smiling, and though nothing physical had come from the heavens like Caden’s banners, it was ensuring to know that the Sun would protect them.

She moved on to Sirius. The star god hadn’t answered a Dûnan prayer in months by now, and Boudicca’s was no exception. She moved on to Jennesis - the tree goddess, too, was silent. The sanndatr deeply wished she could purge herself of the doubt created by this silence. Were they truly the gods’ chosen people if this many turned away from them in their hour of need? She slapped herself in the face. The gods had more important things to care about, too, of course! She couldn’t very well let herself think this way. She moved on to Fìrinn - no answer. Taeg Eit - no answer. Vandra - no answer. Artafax - no answer. Lyd - no answer. 

She then knelt before the statue of Claroon, the tentacle-faced man surrounded with ornaments of coral and shells. She folded her hands and spoke, “Great Claroon… I come to you in a time of great need to humbly ask for your aid… Can you hear me?”

Silence permeated the air for a moment, which Boudicca soon realized was actual, legitimate silence. It wasn’t that the God hadn’t responded; sound had simply drained out from reality around her. In its place was pressure, the impermeable and immediate sensation of weight pushing down on the land-walker sanndatr. Before here eyes the tendrils of the tentacle-faced deity writhed and twisted, suddenly awake with recognizable sentience. The eyes of the idol rippled like liquid and Boudicca was struck with the unmistakable sense of being watched.

[color=0054a6]”Aahhhh,”[/color] came a voice like a storm heard from below the surface of a roiling lake, [color=0054a6]”It speakssss. Thou hath called and We hath answered; a blessed joining through darkness that quenches desire most dire. We were beginning to think We were disdained. Time stretched as flesh in egg and We had lost fffffocus. It is gooooood to hear the mortal tongue.”[/color] There was a pause, followed by the divinely forced emotions of relief and excitement pouring across Boudicca in equal measure. The silence was broken once more, this time filled with all manner of sounds that turned it into a symphony of nature that broke like the peal of thunder.

[color=0054a6]”Nnnnnnngrahhhhh. Yes, dear Child, We most CERTAINLY hear thee.”[/color]

“The god of the deep speaks? Has he returned?!” came an excited outburst from one of the praying druids who had decided to follow Boudicca on her trip around the ring.

“The god of the deep speaks!” shouted another and more came to pray. Boudicca lowered herself further and said, 

“We have missed you dearly, Great Claroon, He Who Masters River and Sea, and we pray we may continue to serve you as we have now that you have returned. Whatever we may offer you of the land, you shall have it so we may show we are a loyal and pious people; for now, however, I must be insolent and respectless and voice a request: We are under attack from another warlord to the east, and we cannot stop him on our own. I ask humbly for any aid you may be willing to give us - we will take anything.” She swallowed the last word. “If it pleases, however, I would more specifically ask for something that stops his armies at the Misanthir. Please, Great Claroon, hear our plea.”

[color=0054a6]“Aahhhh, a request! The Maiden of the One-Good-Orb’s children, her beloved horn, the Druids of Xa Duxna! No such insolence in the voice of children; spawn eat from their sires, as is intended. Life must teem, after all!”[/color] 

Klaarungraxus, in his distant realm of Saxus, wriggled with unrestrained excitement; though this was an unseen action by the Druids, all manner of vessels containing water shook and shivered from the rolling waves that suddenly roiled their contents. The Idol seemed to dance in place as mirror to Klaar’s emotional outburst. The world itself responded to the nature god’s decree.

[color=0054a6]”This is a simple thing, beloved spawnling child, for the eternal Vo embraces thee. Make battle at the river’s edge and trust in the depths; worry not, for your All-Sire offers plenty! Speak again to Us, child, for thine voice is most pleasing.”[/color] In an instant everything stopped, leaving only sloshing water to slowly come to a stop in the assorted jars and pools it resided in.

It seemed the sanndatr assumed this was a pattern of speech and she spoke, “The All-Sire’s generosity is legendary. We are blessed to be in the good graces of the sea and its master,” answered Boudicca. “Where on the river shall we make battle? Can your power foresee where they will attempt to cross?”

Only silence met Boudicca as the tentacle-faced idol seemed to slowly lose life. The tendrils that hung from its face were the last parts left moving, evidently clutching something within their slippery embrace. False-flesh slowly parted to reveal a pearl perfectly sized to fit in Boudicca’s palm. It waited there to be snagged by her, seemingly humming with power. As Boudicca neared the object she could peer into its depths, the pearl seemingly darkening at its core. From within that almost liquid core whispered voicelessly the tongues of the tide; the Holy Vonu spoke from within, leading to some far and distant place the sanndatr could never go. The pearl called to her sonorously, offering itself wholly and utterly to the Queen-that-wasn’t now chosen by Klaarungraxus.

Boudicca blinked and reached out, taking the pearl carefully in her hand and admiring its beauty. She swallowed as her eyes scanned it thirstily and whispered, “This… This is magnificent.”

With the pearl held tightly in her hand Boudicca’s whispers poured from her lips not in the Dunan tongue but in a language far older. Vonu, pure and righteous as the day it was first uttered by Klaarungraxus, echoed from within with a voice not quite her own. The sanndatr’s voice was replaced with the sounds of the sea, of roiling storms and rolling stones. The very same vessels that shook with Klaarungraxus’ voice responded to hers, dancing into ‘magnificent’ whirlpools and coronas of misted white water. It seemed Klaar had gifted unto the Dûnan the truest tool to speak with him again; that of his own tongue. With the Nacrean Dragoman in hand, Boudicca found herself suddenly fluent in the old tongue of the world and with it all the command over nature that lay therein.

The sanndatr smiled warmly at the orb and prostrated herself before the statue. “Truly, your generosity knows no bounds, All-Sire Klaarungraxus” she spoke in the divine tongue, and all around her people spun and blinked at what they thought had been tremors in the earth and air hinting to quakes and storms. The waves of the sea in the distance seemed to rock with her syllables. “Thank you,” she finished.

From the depths of the dragoman came but one, single word in response. 

[color=0054a6]”Gladly.”[/color]

Placing the precious pearl in a satchel brought over by a druid apprentice, Boudicca moved on to the statue of Naya, a veiled, weeping woman with her hands in her face, surrounded by empty cradles meant to symbolise the recent passing of children. There were six of them today, a morbidly high number for the Dûnans. Such was life without access to the Statue of Prolificacy. Boudicca sighed, knelt down and whispered, “O great Naya, thank you for accepting our sorrows as always. I come to you so more sorrow may be avoided. Enemies are on the approach, and Ha-Dûna begs humbly for any aid we can be given. Can you hear me?”

Silence followed, enough to instill doubt that anyone was listening yet again. As the breeze rolled in however, a sensation not unlike someone breathing against her skin overtook Boudicca. The air seemed to carry a long sigh as empty cradles seemed to rock and turn, and brought with it a stillness that sucked out doubt and worry - like a mother cradling her child. Boudicca sighed with comfort and looked up at the statue with a smile. Her eyes soon played tricks on her, the statue itself seemed to sway ever so slightly in the wind; her ears as well, as a soft lullaby slipped between the statue's fingers. It gained in volume until it rung out and drowned the area in it's melancholy melody. At once previous hardships and those lost flowed to the forefront of the mind, yet the sting of loss and bitterness did not come with it. The melody weaved into the wind, until it and the air were one and the same.

That seemed to be all at first, before Boudicca's eyes caught sight of a dark trickle between the fingers of the statue. The weeping woman wept blood, and the statue seemed to seethe with an intensity that it hadn't before. Just as the feeling became overbearing, she blinked, and the sensation was gone, along with the blood. A vision? Or something else? Boudicca touched her eyelids and swallowed. This would all be worth it.

“Thank you, Great Naya, for this gift,” she said quietly and moved on to the statue of Macsal. She got down on her knees, repeated her plea as she had done for all the others and waited for an answer.

The euphonious response did not sound like that of a grown man at all - more like that of a child, feminine even. The world around Boudicca sang momentarily and then grew silent and still. Only the voice remains. “Brave Boudicca.” It sang simply. “Stalwart sanndatr. You cast out the help I sent… and come asking for more. Macsal would dislike you indeed - queen that you are. Favoured as your people have been.” There was a moment of wide-eyed silence, the ether seemed grimace. “But you are in luck, he is asleep. Take, Boudicca. Take.”

About the sanndatr’s neck their grew an inken collar. Stone emerged, jade, gold, gems, and it hung there snug enough, but present. “Take, and inspire all else to take too.”

Boudicca patted the collar and frowned - something about it felt wrong. She tried tugging at it and found that its threads were of no simple, rippable material. She tried quickly to think of a response, saying, “N-no, there has been a misunderstanding! I, I did not cast her out - we, we just needed to keep her safe!” However, there came no response. Boudicca hung her head, disheartened, and moved on to the final statue, the pointy-eared woman Selesta, carven neatly in fine stone. There, for the last time that day, she knelt down and prayed for help.

A few moments after Boudicca began praying at the statue of Celestine she would realize that she was getting no answer to her prayer. Following this revelation she would hear the soft flapping of a cloak and the gentle clinking of armor as someone approached. The sounds steadily grew louder as Boudicca kept praying, and unless she got up to see who or what was approaching she would feel a gentle hand upon her shoulder and a familiarly calm voice would speak from just above her. [color=gainsboro]”You may rise, Boudicca. I have returned from my search, though not as I would’ve wished.”[/color]

It was then that the avatar of Celestine would take a step back from Boudicca to allow her to stand properly. As she waited, the avatar of celestine would take a moment to gently lower the hood that she was wearing so that her face was more visible. This would likely cause her to once again inadvertently summon a gathering of devout people to sing her praises, but that was something that she would just have to deal with.

The sanndatr offered her master a bow. “Welcome home, Great Selesta. Did you find the culprits in the end?”

The avatar of Celestine would shake her head briefly before responding. [color=gainsboro]”Unfortunately I did not. I searched the site where Brian was killed, but the small amount of tracks that I could find quickly faded as they moved onto firmer ground. Thus I decided to return. Do you have somewhere private that we could speak? There are some things that I wish to speak with you about that will not enjoy the company of prying ears.”[/color]

Boudicca hardened her face and tugged thoughtfully at the collar around her neck. “Of course. Follow me.” Together, they left the Circle of the Gods, druid acolytes and masters alike figuratively kissing the ground where Celestine stepped. They entered the Boudicca’s hut and sat down by the luke-warm hearth, barely smouldering after breakfast. The sanndatr pondered for a moment and patted protectively the satchel around her torso. She then said, “Alright, we should be safe here. What’s the matter, master?”

The avatar of Celestine would walk swiftly behind Boudicca as she led her towards what Celestine would eventually learn to be Boudicca’s hut. As Boudicca sat, the avatar of Celestine remained standing. Unfortunately, the look on her face was not one that indicated she bore good news. As Boudicca would likely notice, the avatar’s eyes appeared to hold judgement within them rather than their usual calmness. As Celestine began to ask after something, her voice was steely and firm. [color=gainsboro]”Ser Boudicca, my divine senses tell me that you have violated part of your chivalric code. Though I do not like to do it, punishment must be handed out. Kneel.”[/color]

Celestine’s avatar drew its sword slowly. Boudicca could get the distinct feeling that she was not in danger, but the look on the avatar’s face was not one of kindness just yet. Though at the same time one could suppose that she was still being quite merciful and protecting Boudicca’s dignity since she could’ve chosen to administer this punishment the moment she arrived. The avatar waited for Boudicca to comply.

The sanndatr recoiled. “Violated the code? By Taeg Eit, I have done no such thing! What accusation is this, master? Where have I wronged?” She stanced herself defensively, arms tense and ready to protect herself.

The avatar of Celestine blinked unerringly before focusing for a moment. It then spoke once more to educate Boudicca upon the code that she had broken. [color=gainsboro]“My senses tell me that you have violated tenent three of my Chivalric Code. Who’s dead have you dishonored?”[/color]

Boudicca looked lost beyond words. “Dishonoured dead? I have never dishonoured the dead in my life. My respect for those who have passed into the afterlife is like that of all other god-fearing women and men of this city. They have all been burnt and their ashes spread onto the wind, soil and sea, as the singing nature demands.”

Celestine’s avatar furrowed her brow slightly as she focused once again. Then a revelation seemed to spark behind her eyes as she thought about what Boudicca was saying. Placing a hand upon her hip she asked a simple question of The sanndatr. [color=gainsboro]”What if the culture that those people came from did not decree that their dead should not be burned?”[/color]

Boudicca scowled. She licked her front teeth thoughtfully and shook her head. “To bury your dead is to show the utmost disrespect to their spirits. If I burned someone from a culture of buriers, then I have made up for their sins towards nature and their ancestors. If the body isn’t burned, then the spirit cannot break free and enter the afterlife. What, are you expecting me to support such uncouth practice?”

The avatar of Celestine would shake her head in response. Seeing as having her sword drawn was likely not helping the situation, she sheathed it gently. Placing a hand upon the pommel to show that she would not be drawing it soon, Celestine’s avatar spoke again. [color=gainsboro]”I do not expect you to support the practice, Boudicca. But it is something that deserves accommodation. Not all of these lands are cut from the same culture and believe the same thing. Part of respecting all you encounter, my first tenent, is to respect the cultures that they come from. You know that I do not seek to ask unreasonable things of my chosen knights. Who has perished recently?”[/color]

Boudicca scoffed. “Just because they do not believe the same thing does not mean they are right. If it was recent, I assume you are referring to the Chelevyak men who attempted to murder my chief inspector. They worship death, master, and Sigeran is a cruel and bloodthirsty master. We did their souls a great favour by burning them in the sight of the Eight and the Seven.” She sighed. “I mean no disrespect, master - I do not know how gods see the world, nor will I ever hope to; however, it is clear that you try to bridge gaps that simply cannot be bridged. If we had let people bury their dead, the afterlife would be empty and the world would be a place of the walking, vengeful unliving. Such is the working of the world.”

Celestine’s avatar remained silent for several moments. She simply stared at Boudicca wordlessly as various thoughts and considerations came and went through her mind. She recalled her debate with Jjonveyo and the stubbornness that he displayed. But she also recalled the Boudicca of the past, who seemed to be vastly different than the one that sat before her. Perhaps Boudicca was correct in that some gaps could not be bridged, but perhaps there was something more…

When Celestine’s avatar began to speak again, their voice had changed to one of compassion as she began to ask a different question. [color=gainsboro]”Boudicca, my chosen, what plagues your mind? I recall the day I knighted you, and you seem to be so different now. Is this merely a hardness in preparation for conflict, or is there something more that you have not been able to resolve within yourself?”[/color]

Boudicca seemingly grew smaller, more timid. She drew a long, slow breath and gradually lowered herself to a seat on a bench by the dead hearth. “It’s…” She caught her forehead in her palm. “... It’s been a tough year… Everything seemed to fall in place when we retook our home and now…” She sniffed quietly. “... It’s all breaking apart again. I can’t do this for another five years, master, I can’t…”

Celestine’s avatar nodded a few times. There was something that needed addressing more than her Chivalric Code. Stepping forward, Celestine’s avatar knelt before sniffling Boudicca and spoke gently. [color=gainsboro]”I understand that weight. I bear the weights of Peace and Neutrality. The weight of leadership is not an easy burden to bear, but you do not have to bear it alone. Even if I am compelled to punish you for a misdeed I have never ceased to be your friend. It is alright to show weakness to me. Let your stress flow. Let your mind be at ease.”[/color]

With that said, Celestine would gently wrap her arms around the shoulders of The sanndatr and pulled her forward gently into a hug. The sanndatr sobbed in response and slowly hugged back. After a while of silence, she whispered, “If you understand, then… Then please…” She tightened her grip. “Help me. Help me end this conflict and bring back peace once more… Please…”

The avatar of Celestine nodded once again before whispering a reply. [color=gainsboro]”I will.”[/color]

Letting her statement hang for a moment, Celestine’s avatar would gently rub the space between Boudicca’s shoulders before patting her back. Whispering once again, she would elaborate upon how she thought. [color=gainsboro]”My dominion over soldiers and overall neutral stance leads me to knight all who are worthy, but given recent events I have come to understand that even honorable people can serve a dishonorable cause. I will forgive your breaking of my chivalric code without punishment this one time. When you are ready, there is more news that I would share with you.[/color]

Celestine’s avatar would remain hugging Boudicca until she moved to push herself free, at which point the avatar would immediately let go. Boudicca held on a bit longer before eventually letting go. She swallowed and wiped her tears away, her face hardening the soft features of sorrow into her tired, stern, everyday expression. “I, I understand… Thank you. Well, since we already are here, it may be best for the news to be shared now. What is your message, master?”

Celestine’s avatar nodded once again before grasping at her cloak and offering it towards Boudicca to wipe her face with. Surprisingly, despite all it went through the cloak was almost perfectly clean. Once Boudicca had decided what she would do with the offer, Celestine’s avatar would speak once again. [color=gainsboro]”I have spoken to Jjonveyo, as I was compelled to knight him due to my domain over soldiers. He did make one demand that would cause him to stand down immediately and consider diplomacy: Do you know of the location of a man named Wojeck?”[/color]

“Wojeck? Wojeck…” Boudicca tasted the name while rubbing her face dry with the cloak. She then shook her head. “No, I cannot say I do. Is he a criminal they want caught or something?”

The avatar of Celestine would shake her head once again. As Boudicca would dry her face she would find that the cloak remained free of stains. When Boudicca was finished wiping her face clean Celestine’s avatar would speak once again. [color=gainsboro]“He said that Wojeck was his nephew. Sent to speak to your people about reforms of some kind. Do you recall anything of that sort happening recently?”[/color]

“No, I-...” She then lowered her head. “... That must have been that Chevelyak man…” She snickered condescendingly. “‘Reforms’, is that how he phrased it? According to my inspector who was almost murdered by him in broad daylight, he came demanding an absolutely unreasonable tax in the name of some distant warlord whom we now know to be this Jonwayo. My good [i]théin[/i] naturally refused his offer, thinking him a madman, he got violent, and the rest of the story should be clear by now.”

Celestine’s avatar nodded a few times. [color=gainsboro]”An unfortunate turn of events. Then this information may be useful to you: He informed me that he would be in Ha-Leothe for three days to await the return of his nephew. Unfortunately, he did wish for his nephew to be alive. You might be able to formulate a battle plan based on that information.”[/color]

Boudicca grit her teeth. “... They make camps in the ruins of my people’s homes, upon the bodies of the people they slaughtered. The nerve.” She collected herself again and nodded. “Thank you, master. This information is vital to bringing peace back to the Dûnlands. We will bring the man to justice and end this war for the good of all.”

Celestine’s avatar nodded before she began to weave something with her hands. As she did, she would speak softly. [color=gainsboro]”I am also preparing something to reinforce your numbers, though due to their massive diet and behavioral patterns I will only be summoning them when they will be fighting and will have to keep a tight leash on them regardless.”[/color]

Holding out a square of grey mist, Celestine gave instructions for its intended use. [color=gainsboro]”Gaze through this without blinking. You will see inside my realm for a few moments. There you will see what I might unleash in the coming battles.”[/color]

As Boudicca would gaze through the square of grey mist she would see Death Dragons and Virtus Elves intermingling in Celestine’s near paradise of a realm. She would also hear Celestine speak softly to admit to a small weakness that she possessed. [color=gainsboro]”Unfortunately, I have need of more time. I know that the war will not wait, but if you can stall things even a little my divine power will regenerate and I will be far more capable. I am sorry that my plans are not nearly as complete as I would’ve wished.”[/color]

Boudicca blinked with wonder and fright. “What… What are those creatures? The men and women are… So fair, so beautiful, like you, master. And the monsters behind them - what are they?”

Celestine’s avatar gave a small hint of a smile. It was not the first time that her Virtus Elves had been called beautiful. Speaking softly, she elaborated upon what Boudicca saw and what her plans were. [color=gainsboro]”The people that you see are echoes of myself, made in my image as I coalesced. The people behind them are not monsters. They are known as Death Dragons, made by the collaborative effort of many gods. I bargained with Thaa, the god of death, to attain a group of them. They are extremely powerful, but require a careful hand. While they’re active they can eat a large cow or a horse each day. Sometimes two. My realm is populated with such prey animals, and why I aim to keep them there until absolutely needed. I had to convince them to pledge themselves to my cause with words and promises, and one of those promises would be that I would see their every need met.”[/color]

Celestine’s avatar paused for a moment before deciding that it would only be fair to inform Boudicca of what else she had done in her time away. [color=gainsboro]”This realm is also where those that I knight will arrive when they pass onto the afterlife. Unless something or someone chooses to interfere. Rest assured that should something try and steal your soul away from the paradise that I try to make I will fight with steel and fury to correct that. It is the least I can do for my knights.[/color]

Boudicca hardened her eyes. “You mean… This is the afterlife?” She regarded it as closely as she could through the hole. “... So stellar. As expected of a goddess who can overpower the cruel god of death!” Boudicca saluted her. “Truly, your splendor and generosity are without equal, master.”

Celestine decided it would be best to not inform Boudicca of the trust she placed in Thaa, nor the fact that such a paradise was only granted because Thaa allowed it. Perhaps if or when Boudicca could stand before the full might of Celestine’s non-avatar form she would understand the complex politics that divinity was submersed in. Though she did feel the need to correct Boudicca on something important before too much of a false perception was made. [color=gainsboro]”This is an afterlife for warriors. I could not secure all of the souls from Thaa, as I am not a goddess of death. Cadien has made a similar bargain. It will likely not be everything that you believed the afterlife to be until now, but I will do my best to have it satisfy your desires. Look to the castle. There should be a large central chamber with a grand feast taking place. That is The Longhall. You will find my divine form there.”[/color]

“I see,” the sanndatr replied slowly. “It looks glorious. I…” She paused. “... I will be sad to be separated from my family when I go, then.” A sigh. “I reckon they cannot come along if they are not warriors?”

Celestine’s avatar placed an assuring hand upon Boudicca’s shoulder before speaking. [color=gainsboro]”If you can aspire them to greatness, I may be able to knight them. Those that are knighted by me are guaranteed to come to my realm. If that cannot come to pass… Then I might be able to speak with Thaa about pulling their souls to my realm. It will likely have a price that I must pay, but if it is your wish then I will see it paid. Though I will ask you of something so that you may mull over it: A passage exists for souls who wish to pass onto Thaa’s realm and enter into a final rest. I would ask you, when the day comes, to ignore its existence and stay with me as an advisor. I don’t believe I can make you into a goddess, but you will be an honored guest in my realm all the same.”[/color]

“I…” Boudicca blinked and looked away. Slowly, she licked her lips with a small tongue and then answered, “Since you are so kind to bring my family, as well, I cannot deny such a request. I shall consider it the greatest honour.” She bowed deeply.

Celestine’s avatar would nod and then pat Boudicca’s shoulder a few times before speaking. [color=gainsboro]”Thank you, my friend. Do not worry about it for now. You have a long life ahead of you, and it will not be important until you awaken within my realm. Did you have anything else clouding your mind that you wished to speak about? I would not wish to occupy your entire day by conversing with you until you were hoarse.”[/color]

Boudicca shook her head. “No, master, I have no more requests. Your help and counsel have both been most useful to me and my people. I hope I can be so shameless as to rely on you in the future, as well.”

Celestine’s avatar gave a smile before speaking with a slightly amused tone. [color=gainsboro]”You may indeed rely upon me, for my avatar will not be departing until the war is finished. There is one final gift I would give you today before I busy myself with whatever you think you might need me to do or assist with.”[/color]

Opting to not use her sword for this one, given the negative reaction to it that Boudicca had. Celestine placed her hand upon Boudicca’s head and spoke firmly. [color=gainsboro]“I bless you with Chivalric Premonition, Ser Boudicca of Ha-Dûna. If the time comes where you might break my Chivalric Code once again, you will feel a tug upon your mind to reconsider your actions and prevent a mistake from happening.”[/color]

As Celestine spoke, Boudicca would feel a silvery light flooding her mind briefly before it would return to normal. With her blessing given, Celestine removed her hand from Boudicca’s head and spoke once again. [color=gainsboro]”Now. I am at [i]your[/i] service. What do you need assistance with? Show me the way and I will try and see it done.”[/color]

Boudicca nodded gratefully. “Then… Help me, my master - help me win this war and bring peace to these lands once more. Our piety and will to fight for the safety of our children and our children’s children will not falter knowing you are with us, Great Selesta. We offer ourselves to you so that we together may triumph over the eastern threat.”

Celestine’s avatar nodded before speaking once again. [color=gainsboro]”I will. Come. Begin your daily duties. I will assist you as much as I can.”[/color] The avatar of Celestine would then stand aside and gesture towards the entrance of the hut. As she did, she would cease maintaining the misty window into her realm and allowed it to fizzle and vanish. Boudicca nodded and the two left the longhouse to continue the preparations.

[hider=Sumsum]
Holy shit, a lot more happened that I had initially planned. Okay, so I’ll try to give a basic overview:
[list]
[*] Boudicca is hella stressed, so she heads south to the surface reefs where the Doserung tribe lives (like a few days from HD proper). She confides in the local chief who tells her that order must be maintained at all costs.
[*] When Boudy comes home, she creates a secret police with [i]théin[/i] Aifric as its leader whose purpose is to keep the peace at all costs.
[*] She then goes to the three strong rival clans who hate her and make a deal with two of them, kicking out the third. These two clans who agreed to follow Boudy have their clan heads named [i]mórthéins[/i], which are basically prime ministers.
[*] She then has the [i]mórthéins[/i] and the secret police send out a message for all Dûnan villages near HD to come to HD for safety, burn down their crops and homes so that the enemy army will be starved on their way, while at the same time bolstering her numbers.
[*] She then reaches out to the five non-Dûnan tribes for help. They all send their most elite soldiers, though some are more eager than others. Whereas the king of Swadi was Hilda’s father’s cousin and is so pissed that he sends a hundred men, the old crone of the Mink is less eager because her people are close to the Cenél and have ancestry tied to the Celeviak.
[*] Boudicca then asks the Brewer’s Guild to make beer for everyone. With a lot of effort, they do, and they also make some new cool, spicy booze. Neat. 
[*] Boudicca then sends the druids out to reinforce morale and lay traps for the Celeviak. Check the prestige summy.
[*] Finally, when everything seems to be going great, Boudicca gets word that something’s up at the moon temple. Turns out a strange disease has broken out and is infecting everyone inside. She has the temple sealed off and everyone who came into contact with the people inside, also quarantined with them,
[*] Boudicca then goes to pray for help from all the gods. These are the ones that answer: 
[*] First is Cadien. He gives her fancy banners outlined in the MP summary.
[*] Second is Oraelia, though she only says that the Dunnies aren’t alone. Gee, thanks.
[*] Third is Klaar, who is delighted to be awake and be spoken to. He’s his bubbly, squiddly self as usual and in his happiness offers Boudy a very nice orb that lets her speak perfect Vonu and use telluric magic. Best squid.
[*] Fourth is Neiya, who lets the Dûnans commit atrocities in the now, but forces them in exchange to remember all the atrocities they’ve committed before. She also made all predators hate people. Goodie.
[*] Fifth is Megh-but-actually-it-was-LiW-all-along, who gives Boudy a sick-ass choker that makes her addicted to conquering and expanding Dunny lands. Yay!
[*] Sixth is Celestine. So Celestine, right, she appears as her avatar, tells Boudy she didn’t find Brian’s killers and has her bring her inside for some private chit-chat. When they go inside, Celestine pulls a sword on her and says Boudy gotta be punished for mishandling someone’s dead. Boudy says she didn’t and that she only burns corpses as good Dunnies do. Celestine tries to explain that not everyone burns their dead, to which Boudy says that’s stupid and that she would never do something so stupid. How’s the spirit gonna get out if you don’t burn the body, amirite? 
[*] Celestine is convinced and Boudy avoids punishment. Celestine asks what’s wrong to make Boudy so jaded and Boudy says the times are tough. They hug and Boudy asks for Celestine’s help to bring peace. Celestine shows her a glimpse of her realm, which contains death dragons and virtus elves ready to be air dropped into battle.
[*] Boudicca thanks her and they talk about how Boudy will be part of Celestine’s afterlife when she dies. Boudy agrees ‘cuz Celly says she can bring her family, too. She then gives her some blessings to make sure she doesn’t break the knight rules again. Then Boudicca asks her to help her prep and they walk off screen.
[/list]
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[hider=MP Sum!]
Gibbou: 5MP/5DP
-3DP: Curse acolytes of the moon (Mothers, monks, nuns and druids of Gibbou) in Ha-Dûna with Midnight Madness. 
Midnight Madness: A plague of the mind that spreads through touch. Causes the infected to maniacally engage in partying and overconsumption of inebriating substances, destroying themselves by sleeplessly feasting, dancing and drinking for days until they collapse with exhaustion. Can thus be quite fatal. The infected also develop acute late-stage addiction to these substances, even if neverbefore having been exposed to them, and will become violent and desperate if not given their fix. The disease will, however, pass after a period of six days if the infected is not provided with any such substances. If they have steady access to them, though, the disease will not fade naturally. Can be cured with healing magic.

A newly infected subject will at first feel exhausted and be unable to move. Then they will begin to ask for any sort of inebriating substance that they know of, whether this be wine, cocaine, weed or something else. If given any of this, the sickness will take root. (3MP/5 towards Addiction Portfolio).
End: 5MP/2DP

[u]Cadien[/u]
[b]Beginning MP:[/b] 5
[b]Beginning DP:[/b] 5
Cadien sacrifices 4MP and 5DP to create three artifacts with the following titles:

[i]The Standard of Vigour[/i]
Bountiful Stamina IV - So long as this banner is held upright by a sapient living creature, those who march in the same army on the same battlefield as its carrier will be less prone to fatigue and exhaustion. Paid for with 2DP and two free titles from the Endurance portfolio.
Cadien's Judgement I - If Cadien does not approve of the bearer's cause, the banner will become hot to the touch, burning whoever carries it even if they are wearing protective clothing. Paid for with 1MP.

[i]The Standard of Focus[/i]
Enhanced Concentration IV - So long as this banner is held upright by a sapient living creature, ranged combatants who march in the same army on the same battlefield as its carrier will always remain calm and collected even in the face of the most dire threats. Their minds will remain clear while their hands and breathing shall remain steady, allowing them to take more accurate shots. They can also see through fog, mist, and other non-solid visual obstructions, and will not be blinded if they are aiming in the direction of the sun. Paid for with 2DP and two free titles from the Archery portfolio.
Cadien's Judgement I - If Cadien does not approve of the bearer's cause, the banner will become hot to the touch, burning whoever carries it even if they are wearing protective clothing. Paid for with 1MP.

[i]The Standard of Strength[/i]
Bolstered Strength IV - So long as this banner is held upright by a sapient living creature, those who march in the same army on the same battlefield as its carrier will have their strength increased. Not to a superhuman extent, but they'll be able to overpower most ordinary mortals. Paid for with 2DP and two free titles from the Strength portfolio.
Cadien's Judgement I - If Cadien does not approve of the bearer's cause, the banner will become hot to the touch, burning whoever carries it even if they are wearing protective clothing.

He also pays 1MP to temporarily open a portal which was used to transport three Songs and the three artifacts to Galbar. The portal was open for maybe half a minute before it began to close and the Songs had to go back through.

[b]Ending MP:[/b] 0
[b]Ending DP:[/b] 0

[u][color=0054a6]Klaarungraxus[/color][/u]
[b]Beginning MP:[/b] 5
[b]Beginning DP:[/b] 5

-5 DP (Increased by Sorcery, Nature, and Artifice) - The Nacrean Dragoman - Taking the form of an apricot-sized pearl, the Nacrean Dragoman is a divinely created artifice-device that, when held, allows the user to speak and understand Vonu with complete fluency. In addition to the obvious benefits provided by being able to speak one of the most spoken languages in the world, the Dragoman provides the added benefit of what comes alongside complete comprehension and control of Vonu; mastery of Telluric Sorcery. The Holy Vonu spoken by the holder of the Dragoman acts with the power and efficacy of the most skillful natural speaker, translating words into waves and shouts into storms. Finally, the precious oceanic artifact provides the user with an unnatural command over sealife. Though this cannot translate into complex commands, it does allow for some surprisingly unique opportunities.

Benthic Preeminence V - While the Nacrean Dragoman is held against one’s person, either in one’s hand or through some other form of clear physical contact, the user has complete mastery of Vonu-born Telluric Sorcery. This translates to decades of potential effort placed in the Telluric arts involving water, storms, and rock. Though the user is not limited by potential skill, they are still reliant on their own experience and cunning to determine just how much they can accomplish with the powers afforded by the artifact.


Oceanic Polyglot I - Perhaps the most subtle but intense benefit of the Nacrean Dragoman is the use of Vonu not as a powerful source of magical might, but as a language. Vonu is spoken by all Vrool and Akua, either in the language’s natural, unaltered state or as mutually intelligible dialects. In addition, numerous coastal communities can be found connected through at least some mastery of the non-sorcerous varieties of the language. With complete fluency in Vonu, the wielder would find considerable potential opportunities from the language barriers broken alone.

Piscine Command I - Though an unintended consequence of divinely translated Vonu, the Nacrean Dragoman carries the capacity for its wielder to speak with and command lesser sea life. This does not, however, provide said creatures with greater intelligence. As such, those animals commanded by it may only be given the most simple of orders, and can only be given such commands if able to hear the speaker directly. Finally, the command is faint and more intelligent animals will be far more likely to act in ways that will save their own skin rather than simply obey.


Neiya 5/5

-2 DP - Blessed the people of Ha-Dûna with Sorrowmother's Lullaby; Negative emotions like sorrow, grief and despair are lifted and kept at bay in all but the most extreme cases, but in return the losses incurred in the past are kept fresh in memory. The blessing lasts until the last leaves fall in winter. 

-3 MP - Cursed the Westfold with Pain of the Goddess; Snakes, birds of prey, wolves and other predatory animals become increasingly aggressive towards maintained human presence in an area.  

End 2/3

[/hider]

[hider=Megh]Collar of Taking (2 Free Titles): Conqueror's Inspiration III (1DP under Art Domain, 2 free titles under Inspiration portfolio): This collar, which cannot be removed by mortal means, inspires the wearer to hoard and conquer - and it inspires all those around them to do likewise. The longer one is in proximity with the wearer, the greater their conviction to hoard and conquer grows. It is their right. Their inheritance. Their destiny. They must take until there is nothing left to take.[/hider]

[hider=Celestine]

Celestine starts with 1 MP and 3 DP.

1 MP: Create a temporary window for Boudicca to view her realm with.

1 DP: Bless Boudicca with Chivalric Premonition to make violating the chivalric code harder.

Chivalric Premonition: The bearer of this blessing will receive a mental “tug” when they would be about to perform an action that violates Celestine’s chivalric code and would cause them to give pause and reconsider.
[/hider]

[hider=Prestigios!]
Boudicca 37 + 5 = 42
-15 Create unconsecrated order - The Dûnan Constabulary: A police force (and secret police) under Boudicca and only Boudicca’s command, capable of censuring and arresting anyone who attempts to sabotage the stability of Ha-Dûna. 
-15 Create unconsecrated order - The Five Tribe Auxiliaries. A diverse band of auxiliaries made up of elite warriors from the five tribes of non-Dûnans that live in Ha-Dûna: The Mink, the Swadi, the Nubveians, the Doserung and the Bastians. The Mink Death-Singers specialise in charming magic and (small) curses; the Swadi Leon-Warriors are mighty archers and masters of the foot bow; the Nubveian Buffalo Riders ride buffalo into battle; the Doserung Longhorns are old veterans of the hunt, lethally silent and deadly with their coral spears; and the Bastian Troll-Men are the royal guards of the King of Bast, known for their stony flesh bred forth over generations of amalgamation. 
End: 12

Circle of the Long Stride 32 + 5 =37
-3 Impressive feat: Lay a trap halfway along the marching route of the Celeviak if they go straight: When they reach the midline going north-south through Scawick, they will be plagued by cold rain for three days.
-3 impressive feat: Lay a trap halfway along the marching route of the Celeviak if they go by the shore: When they reach the midline going north-south through Scawick, bearfish, barnacle fliers and tidal jackals will steal their supplies in the night.
End: 31

Brewer’s Guild 5 + 5 = 10
-3 Impressive feat: Brew enough beer for the entire city.
-5 Minor cultural shift: Create a Dûnan style of wine called [i]múnfíon[/i], a strong wine spiced with caraway seeds and coriander. Used mainly for medicinal purposes, but can be drunk.
End: 2
[/hider]