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 Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 6:36 am
The sunlight lanced through the leaves the covered the Home Oak, the rays of light dancing against the heavy russet coat of tall stag. He lifted his tan-marked head, shaking his antlers gently as his bicolored eyes swept the horizon for the appearance of any other deer, then continuing on into the shadows of the trees more out of instinct than anything else. Being Lord of the Herd seemed to have the effect on most stags, turning strange behaviors into instinctive rituals that took place at the lift of the head.
Again, the stag's gaze swept across the horizon. He wasn't in any particular bit of hurry, no. The only time Fell Lore ever hurried was in times of danger. Then, of course, his mind rushed into thoughts of protecting his herd. But now, as his muzzle lowered back to the earth and tore at the grass, he felt a strange impatience he had not felt in a long time. He had sent one of his runners to fetch Lailoken, the storyteller - one of the Corps bucks with nothing better to do. He didn't know why he had done it, but something had stirred within him that morning and something had told him to call for Lailoken. And, as Fell knew well, instinct was everything.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 7:21 am
Summer is such a peaceful time of the year, for any creature really. Herla and Lera alike spend the lazy, warm days loafing about, sun bathing or sitting in the shade. No one moves too fast, no one worries about the cold; it's relaxing and calm. Just the pace an old stag likes, especially one who spends his dusks enchanting young ones with stories of old and lore to captivate the imagination. When the evenings are spent as so, one could only asume that the days are spent slowly, calmly, staring into the brooks and watching the corps practice thier moves on just about everything.
On this particular day, Lailoken could be found, and was found, participating in the latter activity, resting in the shade, perched just above three bucks. He remembered fondly when he was nothing but a buck, ripe and ready to serve his Lord in any way he could think of. It's such an honor to serve and protect the herd, he knew then and now. What a pity he had grown slower, weaker with age. His royal head had grown back now, but he still wore it with the pride of an old Outrider, extravegantly sweeping it in the midst of a good story. Surely, he was a bit peeved when a Corps came from the side at a speed the old stag would never reach again. The buck slowed before the storyteller, lowering his head in respect. Lailoken did the same, for respect is something that a herd thrives on, and even the old must respect the young. After hearing what the runner had to say, he nodded his scraggly head and took a minute to stand and shake, for that had been his ritual for many a year now. And with that, the pair were off.
Though Lailoken had known Fell Lore for some time now, he was always slightly taken back when he saw just how magnificant the lord looked. There really was know doubt to anyone how the stag had become Lord of the Herd, for just the sight of him cast a fear into any Herla's heart that commanded respect. Fear isn't a bad thing, however, as the storyteller preached every other night. Oh know, to have fear of Fell was to let him know that he was liked and respected. It wasn't the hide behind your mommy fear, it was the other kind, the more complicated kind. And as Lailoken approached, he was also reminded of how unique Fell was. Someone to make stories about, he mused. The future storytellers would talk of how Fell had strange eyes and an eerie connection to everything. Oh yes, he was an interesting one.
"It's nice to see you again, Lord." The title was only necessary. Until Fell broke the ice with a name, Lailoken wasn't about to drop his ever important title.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 2:35 pm
"Lailoken," Fell greeted the old storyteller with a smile and a small inclination of his head while inwardly, he grimaced at the word 'Lord'. Lordship had not changed Fell any from the humble, yet proud, stag he had once been when he had served the Herd as an Outrider - far from it. If anything, it had strengthened it, until he had found he hated being addressed as the Lord. He suddenly remembered the time he had approached a calf that had been flaunting his first head of antlers in the meadow, and had told the youngster to keep in mind and address him only, at most, as 'sir' if and when he entered into the Corps. And he smiled inwardly at the petrified look that had cross the calf's face, and the speed with which he had run away when dismissed had made Fell immediately label him as a runner for the future.
Fell shook his head gently, now. "Ah, Lailoken, when you have seen and know more than I, you should not have to address me as the Lord." He chuckled, realizing then just how much he still had to learn. Politics and law, those were important, but they could not be used as a lifestyle. At least not for Fell, who had found that one major difference between his and his father's reign was how relaxed he kept the pace of the herd, while his father had kept the atmosphere warlike at all times. "Fell will be more than enough."
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 3:27 pm
With whatever tension there had been in the atmosphere gone, Lailoken couldn't help but chuckle at the Lord's disgust of titles. His great head shook, rack pointed downward. And then the coughing came. A slight whooping cough that chased his laughter away. Catching his breath, with a slight nod of his head, he addressed the younger stag before him. "Fell, old friend, when will you ever learn how honorable the title Lord is? It is true I have seen more than you, but your knowledge rivals mine." His face was solemn, now, his mind digesting what had just been said. Yes, he was older, and some would say wiser. However, the storyteller just couldn't agree to that. Fell had always been quick as a whip, and he was only growing in intellegence with each new day. Lailoken was fond of him, for sure, and wanted him to know just how highly he thought of him.
His head turned to look out over the herd from Fell's perch. The view was quite breath taking; hinds and fawns congregated in little groups, grazing to their hearts content; the Outriders circled the perimeter, the ever present gaurd to the herd. "You have quite the view up here, Fell," the old stag said, turning back to face the stag. "So tell me, what is it that you have called me for? Surely you have a reason?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 4:00 pm
"Are you alright?" Fell asked, concerned. Coughs were not a pleasant business, and the sound of one never failed to worry him. He chuckled, and said, "Lord may be a title some would die for, but it's nowhere near replacement for my name. Besides, politics aren't everything."
He turned to look out over the herd, following Lailoken's gaze. The view never ceased to amaze him. "It is a rather nice one." He agreed. "Although at the peak of day, it's rather dull. The sunsets are simply wonderful." He faced the old stag again, considering Lailoken's question. He had hoped, in a way, that he himself would have found the reason to his calling the storyteller, but he had found nothing, aside from perhaps an acorn or two on the ground. "I have no idea," He admitted, shaking his antlers somewhat frustratedly. "I just woke up with a feeling."
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 4:13 pm
Lailoken shook his head reassuringly. "Ah, it's age, nothing to worry about. The cough only comes with laughter, really. Sometimes on the colder nights, I get it, but it's nothing to be worried about." He wouldn't admit that it had scared him, as well, the first time he had gone in to a fit. It had been a few years back, on a freezing winter night, he recalled. The fit hadn't lasted long, but it was enough to leave him shaken. Since that night, his cough had moved on to attacks after laughter, as well. He had grown used to it, however, and always shrugged it off, filing it beside aching joints and loss of strength: the woes of an old man.
Now it was the storyteller's turn to take on a concerned and serious tone. He had learned in his years that Fell Lore was not like the other stags in the herd, that he was unique in more than his eye colors. His affinity to nature was not something to tread lightly with, and a 'feeling' could be anything. "A feeling? Explain." Although it was unusual for any deer in the herd to order about the Lord, Lailoken had gone in done it without thinking. He had fallen in to his comfort zone, chatting with an old friend and not addressing a Lord of the Herd. If it had been any other Lord, he would've thought twice about the command, but he knew Fell would not take what had been said the wrong way, and would know that Lailoken truely respected him.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 5:38 pm
Fell nodded thoughtfully, glad that they were conversing on an equal level and not as Lord and Storyteller. Conversations divided by rank often put him in unease, which the opposing deer would often pick up on. He stopped to ponder at the feeling, searching for the right word to label it with. "It was like something had happened. Or would happen. Something... evil." Yes, evil was the right word.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 6:02 pm
"Evil, you say. Yes....indeed." The old stag stood to ponder this for a while, milling the word through the wheels and turns of his aged mind. There were few things on this earth that that storyteller would truely think of as evil, for the word was such an extreme that it could only be used as a label to something equally as extreme. In his lifetime, Lailoken had found that many an ignorrant fool had used the word as a plaything, tossing it around as if it were not serious. He'd always found such behavior offensive, and rarely listened when another told him something was 'evil'. Fell, however, had a large chunk of the storyteller's respect, and he knew that the Lord would never use such a word unless he truely meant it. And as this thought passed through his mind, the connection sparked.. Lord of the Herd. Evil. Lord of the Evil Herd. The Fallen.
"You know, Fell, last night at Larn there was a chilling howl. I'm sure the whole herd had heard it, and it spooked the younglings quite a bit. I used it as a way to ease them in to the story of the Fallen." He stared at his young friend, letting the ancidote sink in to its entirety. "Fell, the Fallen have awoken from their slumber. They aren't sitting quietly on the peak as they have before. They're howling, restless, hungry." Though Lailoken was positive Fell knew of the incident the previous night, perhaps it would take an old stag to tell him what exactly it had meant. He had spent a good portion of that very morning ruminating over the fact that the walking dead were awake and moving. It had taken a while to sink in for even the storyteller, who was so familiar with their history, so it was no great horror that it took Fell some time to completely realize what this could mean.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 6:43 pm
The Fallen..." Fell mused with a frown. His gaze flickered toward the peaks of the mountains. "I took the howl for a large wolf of some kind. Or one of Man's unruly dogs." He shook his head disbelievingly. "Awaken, you say?" A stab of worry flitted in the Lord's eyes as realization of what it would mean if the Fallen had awaken. "Why now...?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 7:04 pm
"That I cannot say. Nor can I say if they mean to come off the peak they have been damned to. It does not comfort me to not know what the meaning of this event is, I must admit. I trust you and the Outriders to protect the herd, however, and that's all I can think to sleep at night. We both know, though, how difficult it would be to fight one of those creatures. You can't kill what's already dead." Lailoken had given much thought to why the Fallen had awoken, but his thoughts had run dry on the matter. It was a serious business, dealing with something as profound as this, and almost hard to realise in it's full horror. Was it possible that they were growing in numbers? If so, how could that come about? The Lore told of the Sgorrla being damned to the mountain, not of other deer being sent there with them. Could they...breed? No, of course not. They are dead. But then, the aren't really, are they? The living dead. No, this was out of his hooves to think over, too much of a puzzle to solve. Only time could unravel what was occurring to the north.
"Let us not dwell on this topic too long, dear friend. It might drive me more insane than I already am, and you could loose your mind trying to come up with a defensive plan. It isn't healthy to brood over ifs and maybes. Instead let us talk of something slightly more cheery, if you wouldn't mind." Even for someone who dealt with stories of gore and horror daily, the thought of a herd of Sgorrla Walkers coming down to satisfy a huner just wasn't what he wanted to think about. At least not for now, when there was no present and immediate danger.
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 3:04 am
"At least we shall try." Fell said with a soft smile. He was proud of his Outriders, as was common fact, and he trusted his captains to the utmost. But if the Fallen had, indeed awaken, and were keen on taking the herd back for themselves, there was little that either Fell nor any of his Outriders, no matter how brave or how proficient in battle, could do. They were the living dead, after all. "Although the more I think about it, the more I wonder what we would be able to do..." Fell stared off into the north for a moment, before returning from his vacant gaze to face Lailoken again.
"Ah but can the words of the insane be trusted?" Fell chuckled. He was far more at ease now that the topic of the Fallen had passed, and he was able to converse about things he could actually do something about.
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 2:17 pm
"But of course they can! Most of us are at least half insane, wouldn't you agree?" The old deer smiled and chuckled again. His bout of coughing wasn't quite as bad this time; only a few and then it was done. He shook his head, eyes wide with cheer. It's amazing, isn't it, how fast one can come out of a fowl topic and mood? As soon as the idea of the rotted deer had left his mind, Lailoken had felt as if a heavy weight had been taken off his old back, leaving him with younger feel, which was well welcomed.
Ah yes, the younger deer. Anlach would be soon, a time for bucks to show their worth and battle it out in the way a male does best: brute strength. The right to breed is most cherished, almost as high up there with the pride of a goodly sized rack. "Anlach is near, Fell. It should be interesting to see who gets the does this year. I do beleive you have yourself some competition for a few of the lovely ladies." The old man meant it as a kind joke, nothing more.
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Posted: Tue Nov 07, 2006 12:46 am
"My memory begs to differ." Fell laughed. His eyes flickered at the old stag's coughs, but decided not to bring it up again. He wasn't one to want dredge up old topics, espcially ones that had been covered only moment before. He himself disliked when others did so, and he made it a rule not to do anything he disliked himself.
"Ah, Anlach." Fell echoed. This year, however, he wasn't altogether too keen to be fighting for does. The arrival of Danica and Dyani into his harem, along with the birth of Artair and Dyani's adoption of Tegwen and Drystan, he had plenty to mind. It was almost like Anlach politics, however, to have the Lord at least participate, and no matter how much he didn't feel like banging his antlers against any of his Outriders', he knew he wouldn't be able to worm his way out of not fighting. "I suppose so." Fell said thoughtfully. "Although I wonder how much I myself will be doing this year."
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Posted: Tue Nov 07, 2006 3:17 pm
The old stag remembered the days when he had his own harem fondly, picturing one of his favorite does. His eyes smiled brightly, at the image. Before she was taken by infection, he had told Lailoken to go for what he dreamed for, and to not spend the rest of his life as an Outrider if he truely longed for the title of Storyteller. It had taken him a year after her death to follow the advise, and seek out his preceder for training. Yes, she had been a lovely hind, and without her he would not be the stag he was today.
"Ah yes. You already have three little ones, don't you. Perhaps, though, the spirit of Anlach will take you when it comes. I know I even wish for a younger body around that time of year." His words were true, for there was not a day in Anlach where he was proud to be old. The only times that he was truely proud of age was when he was in front of a group of fawns, feeding them the knowledge that had been fed to him at that age.
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Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 12:59 am
Fell nodded. "Yes, although I don't suppose you'll see Artair around for stories too much. I've heard from Danica that ever since he's grown his antler nubs, he's changed quite a bit. But he can never quite shed his 'mommy's boy' attitude. So I've heard." He chuckled. He remembered a time when he had been exactly like young Artair. He, however, had driven his mother nuts.
Fell was silent for a moment, revelling in the memories of Anlachs come and passed. "I'm fairly sure my attitude towards Anlach will change a bit once it comes. It isn't an easy feat to stay out of the spirit." He admitted.
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