Scribed by Carwyn

Spring 1183 AD

There was little of import discussed at the Council meeting, with the sole exception of the report of the actions of a strange churchman along the Severn last season. I recounted the tale of how this man had driven one of the faerie Weed Witches from her home by conducting some form of hateful religious ceremony by the reed banks, and I noted that the Weed Witch's former home now lay within a minor Dominion aura, which is a state of affairs that I cannot believe existed before the churchman conducted his ritual. If this man has the power to spread the Dominion through his actions, left unchecked, he might cause considerable damage to the faerie and magical places of the Dean. There was considerable disquiet about this possibility throughout the Council, and we resolved that Giraldus would spend part of his season in and around Berkley in a attempt to find out more about the man and his intentions.

[Carwyn's private journal: A further matter worth recording is that Medius actually assigned himself a covenant service for this year! From the knowing glances exchanged between my sodales, I sense I am not the only one to have noted that Medius is most parsimonious with his time, preferring to spend it on his own studies, training his apprentice or with his Kaballah allies, rather than on building the covenant. The contrast with his predecessor, Aelfwin, could not be more stark, and Medius suffers greatly in the comparison. Still, a happy and noteworthy day! I look forward to remarking on Medius' next covenant service, which I expect to take place at some point in 1190 or so.

Responding to a request raised by Magus Arcanus at the last Tribunal meeting, I travelled down to Carrion Moor with Maga Marissa to assist with his investigation of a strange ghostly ship he had spied off the south coast of England. Marissa and I used the opportunity of the trip to experiment with the faerie bond within our blood; by reinforcing her control of Aquam magics, I was able to assist her to cast an amplified version of Push of the Gentle Wave, which drove the Saucy Weasel down the Severn at a tremendous rate. The success of the spell convinced us that it held the means to catch up with the ghostly ship, which Arcanus had previously reported travelled extremely rapidly across the waves.

Arriving at Carrion Moor, we discussed our plans with Arcanus, who agreed with our approach. Our party decamped for a section of shoreline where Arcanus had previously observed the vessel. The followed a long wait, for the ship did not appear at the appointed phase of the moon, though there was scarcely any hardship about this, for Kai, Eanfled, Bodkin and I spent the time fishing along the local rivers. All too soon, a month had passed, and we reassembled to await the ship. This time, we caught sight of the craft on the horizon. We rushed aboard our own boat, and Marissa raised a great wave behind the stern to propel us forward. This worked to great effect, and the boat skipped along the surface of the sea, rapidly catching up with the ghostly ship. As we drew alongside, I hailed one of the sailors, introduced myself and asked about their destination. The captain invited us aboard, declaring that the vessel was named the Racing Moon and was travelling to the Island of Moonsetting. We accepted his invitation, and with the help of ropes cast down by the sailors, we were all able to come aboard. I was momentarily alarmed when I saw the captain of our own boat push off into the sea, rather than securing his craft to the side of the ship, but I resolved to worry about how exactly we would make it to shore on our return journey when the time came.

The journey aboard the Racing Moon revealed some intriguing mysteries, for I soon realised that, though the captain and crew gave every appearance of industrious endeavour, the ship appeared to be sailing itself, and I surmised that, were the crew to down tools and sit about idly on the deck, we would make no more or less progress. The captain announced that the ship was sailing on the business of Llyr, King of the Seas, and it was clear that he and his crew were strongly fae-touched, for a powerful aura lay about the place.

Soon enough, we reached the island, where we disembarked, the captain warning us that we would have to return within three nights if we wished to return aboard his ship. He had previously remarked that an important scholar by the name of Tressilio made his home on the island, and we resolved to pay the man a visit. As we travelled the path out of the harbour, we noticed that the buildings were constructed in an archaic, almost Roman style, with temple-like columns and liberal use of marble. The scholar made his home in a fine building situated at one of the highest points on the island. We made our way past two sets of remarkably relaxed guards and one overly protective steward before Tressilio graciously granted us an audience. He seemed surprised but unconcerned that we had come to see him, and he offered us a tour of his residence. We were shown all manner of strange artefacts, mainly concerned with the secrets of the great oceans. Remarkably, he possessed several arcane maps that seemed to show great cities, mountains and forests beneath the waves, which brought it home to me how little we really know about Llyr's realm.

Though we had already seen enough to have made the journey worthwhile, towards the end of our tour, we passed a mosaic that showed a scene that could only have been the covenant of Irencilia. Marissa, Kai and I all noticed this, and Tressilio explained that he had been there many times, though not for a very long while, since he had given up the pursuit of magic to concentrate of his studies of the ocean realm. When Marissa announced that, as a member of House Merinita, she knew Irencilia well, Tressilio said he had fond memories of the place and asked her to pass on his good wishes to Merinita next time Marissa saw her! Equally strangely, Tressilio declared that he had not heard of House Ex Miscellanea. If he is to be believed - and there is an equal chance that this is really some faerie game - this means that he was a member of the Order many hundreds of years ago, when Merinita was still the Prima of the House that bears her name, and before Pralix of Tytalus founded House Ex Miscellanea. I suppose this is not impossible, for he was based in an extremely powerful faerie Regio that cannot be far from Arcadia, yet it seems tremendously unlikely. Still, an intriguing mystery made all the more real by the fact that he handed Marissa a shell that he said Merinita once loaned him, asking her to return it the next time she met the founder. By this time, we began to be concerned about how much time had passed, for we sensed that the scholar's dwelling lay closer to Arcadia than the rest of the island. We thanked him for his hospitality and made our way rapidly towards the harbour just in time to see the Racing Moon casting of its ropes and making ready to depart. The thought of being left behind spurred all save Kellen into action, and we made it onboard save for our laggardly companion, who seemed to be wading through treacle as he struggled to gather speed. I attempted to glamour a faerie rope that could snake through the air and hoist him onto the ship, but the magics proved beyond me, and we were forced to watch from the deck as he was left on the jetty. Still, I am sure Kellen will do well for himself, and I do hope we meet him again.

Back at Carrion Moor, Marissa and I agreed that she would research more into this mysterious Tressilio using the libraries at Irencilia, while I would spend some time investigating the shell that he gave her. We resolved to meet up in the near future to compare notes. What a refreshingly strange encounter!]


The Council met to discuss news from the previous season. Giraldus reported that he had learned more of the churchman who had polluted the river near Berkley. He is apparently a friar - some form of wandering priest - by the name of Bertram. He has become popular with the local peasant folk for allegedly helping them out with their ills, though the nobles and other priests sensibly have a lower opinion of him, regarding him as something of a nuisance. Interestingly, he has some links with the abbey at Tintern - this is not the first time we have heard troubling news about the activities of the monks there, and I do wonder what trouble that place will cause us in the future. No one proposed to take any firm action at this time, though Giraldus agreed to listen out for further news of the friar's activities when next he was abroad.

Astrius and Cormoran also recounted the tale of their trip to Mynydd Myddyn last season. The journey to the Regio proceeded without incident, though for the first time the werewolves demanded a price - a share in any food obtained through hunting - for safe conduct across their territory. Much more ominously, Astrius and Cormoran found evidence of a great slaughter among the celts within the Regio, with their settlement now lying abandoned amidst signs that they had fled to the forest to escape a powerful enemy. It seems that many, or perhaps even all, of the celts met their ends in the woods, for the Magi encountered a grisly scene redolent of a charnel house. While they were investigating, the party were attacked from the air by a ferocious wyrm known as a wyvern; said to be cousin of the dragon, the wyvern stands as tall as a building, with fearsome claws and a wickedly barbed tail. Despite the creature's great size and strength, the Magi and grogs managed to beat it back, though Astrius was at one point lifted high into the air and then left to plummet back to earth. The party wisely decided to return back to the covenant to bring news of the creature, which had not previously been spied within Mynydd Myddyn. It is not clear whether its appearance may in some way be linked to the Unnamed House, since wyverns are said to be a favourite ally of powerful occultists, or whether the creature may have simply travelled from some deeper part of the Regio. We suffered the loss of only one man, the scout Diarmuid, who was widely known for his sharp eyes, enormous gut and foul tongue, to the wyvern, so things could have been much worse. Regardless, journeys to Mynydd Myddyn have now become much more perilous than before, though at least we are forewarned of the danger.

Later in the season, Cormoran reported that he had tracked a party of bandits who had molested on of our bargemen to their camp in the woods near the village of Stone. He and his grogs ambushed the group, managing to slay two out of five of them, but the others fled. Cormoran lost interest in the chase at this point, though Astrius and his familiar, Drudwyl, took up the scent and managed to track down and slay one more of them. Intriguingly, Astrius managed to track one of the men as far as Bristol, which is well known as a centre of the Fells' nefarious activities. Whether this was mere chance or evidence of a connection between these groups remains unknown, but we would be wise to remain alert for any resurgence in the activities of the Fells, which have been quieter in recent years following the deaths of several of their leaders.

The final event worth recording is that, towards the end of the season, I felt the Aegis of the Hearth resist an attempt to cross its boundary. Investigating, I found that the north gate was open and a giant of deformed and loathsome appearance, as are all of his kind, stood beyond, a puzzled expression upon his face. Guessing immediately that this was one of Cormoran's companions, I awaited my sodales' return, and it was not too long before he appeared at the foot of the tower, laden down with bags, sacks and furs of all description. He announced that he as off of on an expedition to the "Land of Snows" and, with Astrius and Drudwyl in tow, he departed the covenant. I am not sure how long he will be, and I doubt he knows himself, and the event underscores once again the peculiarities of our charter, since Medius may no longer leave the covenant in the meantime without causing Cormoran, as Imperator, to be in breach of his duties. Shaking my head at the ridiculousness of the situation, I retired to my sanctum to carry on my studies.


With Astrius and Cormoran away on their journey to the icy north, the four remaining members of the Council met at the start of Autumn. Medius' first decision was to ask me to take on the role of Ministrator and, after a brief pause while weighed up his limited options, Giraldus as Imperator. Although we both accepted, it seems to me that the way these titles are swapped around regularly for the convenience of their holders means that they have little inherent worth; indeed, their main role appears to be simply to allow us to remain in compliance with our imposed charter. The Council meeting itself was relatively short and to the point. Medius announced he would be away from the covenant conducting an investigation of some sort; Dialectica would spend the season at the court of the Prince of Powys; and Giraldus decided to further his studies of the texts in the mundane library. For myself, I resolved to conduct a survey of the impact of the dominion on local magical and faeries places, as specified at the last Tribunal meeting.

Kai, Eanfled, Bodkin and I left to carry out the survey shortly after the meeting. It proceeded with relatively uneventfully for the first few weeks until we travelled to the Wye Valley to investigate the site of the Trellech stones. As we approach, we spied the light of a campfire close to the stones, which seemed most peculiar, as the stones are so well hidden that they receive hardly any visitors. Creeping up to learn more, we were alarmed to spy a group of four peasants led by the accursed friar Bertram camped by the stones. Bertram was conducting some form of Christian ritual close to the stones; though I did not recognise the meaning of the shapes he made with his hands and the words he uttered, it seemed clear to me that he was up to no good, so I resolved to chase him an his band away. Remaining hidden, I conjured the phantasm of an angry boar and sent it charging towards the group. The peasants all turned on their heels and fled, yet Bertram was entirely unmoved by the scene. Concentrating for a moment, he raised his hands before the boar, which promptly disappeared, which prompted his companions to return. I know not how Bertram dispelled my illusion, but his display of power convinced me that he must not be allowed to complete his rituals, so grabbing a handful of vis from my satchel, I incanted the words to Transformation of the Slithering Eel, hoping to turn him into an inoffensive worm. To my shock, although I put considerable force behind the spell, Bertram remained entirely unaffected. However, he had become alerted to my presence, and he cast a spell of his own, which dramatically increased the amount of light flooding through the branches of the trees, which threatened to give my position away. With this, I retreated down the hill to consider my options.

I was in two minds on whether to return to the covenant to consider my options when I decided to see if Bertram's rituals at the stones had had any affect on the magical aura. To my horror, the aura had dropped a full magnitude from its normal level, and I became concerned that, left to his own devices, he would render the place as sterile as he did to the Weed Witch's former home several seasons ago. With my resolve strengthened, I returned stealthily to the clearing once more. Seeing the group of men cluster closely together, I let fly with the Weavers Trap of Webs, and I could hardly suppress a cheer when I saw the bonds entwine all of the men, including this most meddlesome priest. With a little more time on my side, I once again produced a handful of vis and tried the Transformation of the Slithering Eel once more. This time, the enchantment took effect, and Bertram was transformed. Kai immediately raced into the webs after him, while I cast the same enchantment on each of his men, With Eanfled's help, we swiftly caught all five, snapped their necks and threw their bodies into the fire. Taking care to hide the evidence of their camp, we left the place, which is now safe from the church's malicious grip. Though I am hopeful that news of Bertram's disappearance will not be traced back to this place, if it is, then perhaps his demise will serve as a warning that the church's ambitions will not go unopposed.


I recounted my tale of the encounter with Bertram at the Council meet at the start of the season. Gratifyingly, my sodales seemed to agree with my actions, though Medius asked me to scribe a report for Senior Quaesitor Serenia. Giraldus agreed to keep his ear to the ground for new so f Bertram's disappearance during his travels, in case any rumours of his demise connected him with the covenant. There was little else discussed, and we soon returned to our studies.

Midway through the season, I was glad to hear that Magus Marius, formerly Dialectica's apprentice Aeddan, had retuned to the covenant, and I spent a few happy evenings discussing his recent adventures with him in the Fox and Chicken.

[Carwyn's private journal: I spent the season investigating the stranger shell handed to Marissa by the scholar Tressilio. It was a strange device, for the magics of its construction were not of Hermetic origin, though I could see parallels with some of the concepts used in faerie magic. Still, an intriguing problem that I slowly resolved over the course of my studies By the end of the season, I had discovered three separate enchantments: the first allows the wielder to speak with any sea creature; the second fosters some form of agreement with such an agreement; and the third allows the understanding any languages of the sea. All three had a range equivalent to an entire sea, making long distance communication possible. I sensed that there might be a fourth enchantment present, but I could not discern its nature. Given that the ones I had discovered ranged between the eight and eleventh magnitudes in power, the final enchantment must be beyond even that. A fine device indeed! I wonder what Marissa will do with it?]

The rest of the season passed without events of note, though I noticed that the few remaining apples had all shrivelled on the branches of the bare trees or had become homes for wasps.