An Old Midlish Rhyme
The wind from the North sings of heroes of Olde
The wind from the East makes our blood run Cold
The wind from the South smells of Spices and Gold
But the wind from the West tells of warriors Bold.

Friday, October 30, 2020

AWAKE! AWAKE! FOES FIRE DANGER! AWAKE!

Forewarned by alarm beacons, the border post at the North Ford was on alert with barricades in place across the ford and guards and patrols doubled. As the sun rose, barbarians could be seen approaching from the West and the trumpet rang out to summon the garrison to their posts.


All eyes were rivetted to the ford and the foe beyond. Not a man spared a thought for the edge of the Wild Wood behind them.


As stealthy as cats, the Huntress and Cuan na Banrigh had scaled the tower, hidden in a magic mist, retrieved the sacred chest, and sped through the hills and forests towards the ford. Birds carried the word to the waiting Men of the Hills.

"We are coming!"



Thursday, October 29, 2020

The Search for Na dallag naomh.

 

Nearly three years had gone by since the theft of the sacred Dallag. (See 2017 post: "The Original story of how the Midlish began the war") and every day the bonds of the alliance between Woodsfolk, Hillfolk and Farmers weakened a little more. For three years the search for the Dallag had gone on day and night. The Huntress had searched the Woods and Mountains for tales and signs while the Watcher had sent forth word to the wild birds and beasts of the forests, hills and mountains to search for the sacred totem. 


At, last! Word had come. The Iron Lord had entrusted it to Sir Daniel with orders to find a way to open the chest and discover its secrets or if not, then to destroy it. Since it was of the Old Gods, Sir Danial took the Chest to the Witch Cave and with praise and guile, bribes and sweet words he entreated them to show him their power by unlocking the chest. They chanted and danced and demanded a price which we will not speak here and at last they set their foul cauldron to boil, hiss and steam while they circled it, chanting in a forgotten language until at last with a cry and a final puff of foul smelling smoke.....they announced that the chest could not be opened by an unbeliever and faded back into the depths of their cave. 

Many the Wise Man and Sorcerer answered Sir Daniel's challenge and promises of reward until the day a Sky Wizard, a Shaman of the Herdsmen from the across the Mountains appeared and promised that this was a task for the light not the dark. If only the chest was taken up to the top of the tower where the Sky could peer down upon it, the Wizard would then read the mystery through its eyes and enlighten Sir Daniel. So it was that the gold and the chest were carried up the long stairs while the Wizard chanted and wove his arms while Sir Daniel and his guards looked on. Suddenly there was a bright flash, a tremendous BANG! and a dense fog of smoke. 

When the smoke cleared and Sir Daniel and the Guards awoke, the Wizard and the gold were gone but the chest remained, as silent as ever. But it had spoken widely enough. A eagle spied the smoke and circled over, wheeling quickly to report to the Watcher. 

 The Queen summoned the Huntress and sent her with a picked force of stealthy, painted folk from the forest to steal back the sacred chest and bring it by night through the forests to the Great River where a force of Hillfolk would meet them and fight off any pursuit. From the Farmers, there had come no answer to the summons.

The strongest oaths were taken: "Bring Na Dallag naomh home, or die trying!".