Scribed by Jari
Spring 1314AD
The new year began brightly with a fine winter’s day. As I looked out of my window, I could see a covering of fresh snow blanketing the ground in a comforting embrace while the stonework glittered with an early morning frost. There was a spring in my step as I skipped down the tower stairs to the council chamber. Sadly, such fine humour did not last long for I saw the tense faces on several of my sodales and remembered that this was the meeting at which we must elect the next Princeps. What joy.
While I am capable of breathtaking hypocrisy when it suits or amuses me, such a role is anathema to me and I wished no part of it. However, the Charter is set as such and at least the powers it imbues the holder with have been significantly neutered from the previous dictatorial absurdities of the Pontifex.
Pyrrhus of course declared that he would stand again and he was duly seconded by Theoclea. Naevius also announced his candidature and was duly seconded by Branwen. Thus was the scene set for a veritable clash of the latin titans.
Jari’s private journal
While Pyrrhus is frequently unpleasant and dull-witted, he does not attempt to regulate things too tightly at council. Of course, that may be by incompetence or a reluctance to be shown up rather than any liberal philosophy but that’s not the point. Better the devil you know, though that’s probably not a sentiment to express to him in person.
I confess I almost choked on my morning ale when Branwen seconded Naevius. I can only imagine that Pyrrhus’s constant rudeness must have annoyed her more than she’d let on!
They both gave speeches in which they very generously promised to allow everyone free speech at council. Pyrrhus made what I thought should have been a winning pitch by stating that he would undertake the covenant’s mundane and boring duties if elected. Terentius however followed that up by asking a very pointed question about how effective they thought the council was at making decisions. Pyrrhus said that we shouldn’t be hasty in making important decisions while Naevius expressed his distaste for what he termed as “agendas” and said that he wanted to give council more “direction” and to cut short discussions. This seemed somewhat at odds to his stated goal of allowing free discussion but hey ho. Hopefully he just said it to win Terentius’s vote but time will tell.
The vote was split, with Pyrrhus, Theoclea and yours truly voting for Pyrrhus while Terentius, Branwen and Naevius voted for Naevius. Disappointingly, for who doesn’t like a good spectacle, neither magus was prepared to let the arts decide the matter so the decision as to who would hold sway at council was decided by the drawing of lots. Naevius won and with a brazenness that even I might have blanched at, declared that this was a good omen. Unsurprisingly he promptly appointed Terentius was his deputy.
Led by our new glorious prince, we then returned to the matter of preventing a conflict between Monmouth and the Jack of the Green. Terentius reported that our man Wilfred has recruited six other fellows to join him in working Terentius’ seams. Interestingly, while in Monmouth, Terentius encountered the faerie minstrel Rhys and, as a casting of ‘Sense the Lingering Magic’ revealed, had his emotions affected by the faerie’s music. This confirms what I suspected of Rhys’s powerful nature but I do not think he is likely to be a threat to us of any kind other than making people enjoy his music more than they otherwise might have done.
After that interesting little interlude, we returned to the ongoing and by now quite tedious discussions of iron ore production. Branwen did her best to enliven things by talking up her sacrifice plan which seemed well worth considering to me given one person’s death would likely prevent many but of course put others’ backs up. A vote was held as to whether “In principle, should we proceed with discussion of sacrifice”. Branwen and I voted for it, Naevius and Terentius against, while Theoclea and Pyrrhus abstained. Naevius used his new powers to carry the vote in his favour. So what else was to be done? I won’t bore you with all the interminable back and forth other than Pyrrhus staying true to form despite his obvious disappointment at losing his position by suggesting we burn out the Jack of the Green! Eventually we came back full circle to using disease to scare off the miners once more.
Jari’s private journal
Happily, the early signs are that Naevius is as capable as Pyrrhus at cutting short discussion! I still wonder what deal Branwen cut to get that wooden finger of hers and with who or what. Clearly it’s bought her access to the Jack but beyond that who knows? She’s quite rightly suspicious that I’m trying to ferret out her magical secrets but while I would obviously dearly love to know, I’ve no desire to take sides and bind myself to one of the powers involved as I believe she must have. I should consider the possibility that much knowledge of such ancient powers and magics may be much harder to glean without tying yourself to one of them. On the bright side, if she can act as intermediary to the Jack then she is welcome to such a role. I still remember Erik’s screams of agony all too well so have little desire to deal with such a twisted entity.
Next we discussed the matter of the UnNamed House and the fear that they have taken maga Eloise. There was in truth little we could do other than send letter to Trevalga to better coordinate our mundane spy networks and thereby improve our chances of spotting any suspicious activity on the Southwest coast of England. Terentius remains keen to press the investigation of Roxburgh but we need more information first from those who have been keeping an eye on that place recently and they are very busy currently.
We then talked about what should be done with the four treasures of Britain that currently sit within the covenant, namely the Crown of Madh, Excalibur and its scabbard, and the chalice. Naevius wanted us to take a more proactive role in what to do with them which was sensible but no one had any real suggestions other than crafting a magically protected chest in which to store them and he dismissed that one out of hand. Not that I’m bitter about that you understand. Theoclea, quite sensibly, did not want anything to do with any of them. Of course leaving such items unclaimed is merely storing up big trouble for the future and we can’t simply sit on them for too long without inviting disaster. But no one had any further ideas so that was that for Prince Naevius’s first meeting.
Jari’s private journal
The extent to which Pyrrhus was invested in his role of Princeps was made clearer after the meeting concluded when he approached me and asked if I needed any perdo vis and offered to trade any spare vis I might have at his house meeting. It was a kind gesture brought about I believe by his gratitude for my vote for him. I didn’t like to tell him that it was more of a vote against Naevius than for him but if he is going to treat with me as reasonably as this I should perhaps genuinely reciprocate for it may be helpful to keep him on my side with Naevius’s dictatorial side likely to come out before too long.
After the council was concluded, Pyrrhus set off for his House meeting with his shield grog, who has somehow carelessly lost his nose. He looked an ill-tempered and burly fellow though so I resisted the temptation to make any jokes about it.
Jari’s private journal
At least not to his big flat face anyway.
Terentius meanwhile set off on his mission to leave bloodied diarrhoea and sore-ridden dead bodies strewn across strategic pathways near Coleford and Clearwell. He found that two other groups of freeminers had entered the forest with predictably fatal results, though from the tales that he heard, those who huddled around a campfire were not taken while they did so. Branwen, with her mystical intuition for such things, suggested that this could mean that fire may protect against a god of the woods. A keen and useful insight to ponder.
Vassily was set to carefully monitor mundane reaction to both word of a “devil in the woods” and the disease-ridden bodies which survivors came across. Plague fires were quickly set at Coleford so with luck Terentius’s mission has been successful for now at least.
Meanwhile, Races and I had set off to find the Myrddin’s Stone once more. The air in the thicker parts of the wood that we crossed on the way was somewhat oppressive and brambles and branches constantly snagged at my clothing, though enough only to cause frustration not serious impediment. Just the Jack expressing his displeasure at me walking through the forest in human form I believe, for Races the Wind was not affected at all. As he constantly informed me.
We found the stone quite easily and the air on top of the small hill upon which it sits was a little fresher. I peered at the stone using the sight granted to me by my faerie blood and saw the subtle diffuse starlight that I have come to recognise as characteristic of ‘ancient’ magics. That is to say those which cannot readily be discerned as either ‘magic’ or ‘faerie’ but retain elements of both.
As my gaze wandered beyond the stone I noticed a figure appear. I bade it hello and it manifested in the form of a great deer. This was not the golden-eyed stag that I had met with previously as the influence of the Jack lay heavily upon it. There were vines snaking up its horns and moss lay heavy upon its coat. It told me that the forest was hale and when I asked if it was now under the sway of the Jack, as it had previously feared, it stated that “He is an ally of the forest and under the boughs of the wild wood he has considerable power.” Somewhat of an equivocation there then but in truth the answer was writ large in its appearance. I asked if I could help but it simply replied that the forest was hale and it did not think any could best it. I pressed it as to whether the wild wood sought to claim the temple. The spirit replied that not all the forest was part of the wild wood, including the covenant, but that the Green King claimed all in the wild wood. Races asked whether the spirit’s authority extended beyond the wild wood, and it said that deer were native to the forest and that the non-wild parts of the wood were still worthy of protection. Our protection as guardians would hold in the wild wood as long as the forest is healthy.
This was of course something of a relief to hear even if did mean that there will likely needs be more talk about iron ore and bloody diarrhoea before too long. The spirit added that there was no set boundary to which the forest must keep, an allusion no doubt to the great forest of old which once stretched from coast to coast across this land. As we left, it occurred to me that the spirit had shown no sign of deer-like timidity it had previously manifested. Another sign of the Jack’s influence no doubt.
Summer
All save Pyrrhus were present at the Summer meeting. Theoclea gave update of goings on in the English court. It seems that England will be invading Hibernia on some legally dubious pretext involving reclaiming ancient titles. The fleet is marshalling at Portsmouth and she thought it likely that, as a senior noble, the Baron of Monmouth will be on one of those ships headed to war.
Terentius then relayed what he had learnt of the situation to our West. The freemining settlement on Symonds Hill, led by the surprisingly competent former grog Wilfrid appears to be thriving with a dozen men working there now. One might wish that such competence could be more apparent in those grogs who man the gate and ‘welcome’ visiting magi to our covenant but it would be a great shame not to hear any more tales of the hilariously uncivil conversations they’ve had with quite senior magi.
Anyway, Vassily, and his apprentice Kenneth, a man with a natural charm that should stand him in good stead, have reported that word has reached Monmouth of rumours of “devils in the woods” who take the form of trees and tear apart men. Fortunately, with the Baron away, it is unlikely that the Sheriff will take any drastic action. In any event, Vassily’s agents reported that the Sheriff is apparently a much relieved man now that some iron ore has started to flow from the Dean into Monmouth. There was also talk there that a plague had broken out again near Coleford so hopefully the combination of the two should be enough to at least keep things from getting worse for now. Terentius says that Monmouth is receiving about one third of the ore that it used to so it will not be enough in the long term. Theoclea agreed to use her influence to secure Kenneth a position as a clerk in the Sheriff’s office to further our intelligence gathering there. With luck, there will not be any freeminers bold enough to venture back into the forest until at least Autumn.
After more debate about how best we might locate further sources of ore that could be mined, Terentius agreed that he will venture out into the forest and use the gift granted him by the Shining One to cast spontaneous magics of sufficient magnitude to be able to locate seams of iron within a large enough radius to make such a search practical. As opposed to the proverbial needle in a haystack effort which would result should any of the rest of us try.
Lastly, Branwen reported she has made half a dozen bloody stool potions for the covenant to further our efforts to spread talk of disease hereabouts. How noble is our art!
My service was to take the ship and venture down to Trevalga and Carrion Moor to the South and then North to Holy Isle and hopefully Eurus Aquilae and Borrea Tor. With the authority to trade spells and make other such deals burning a hole in my pouch, I set off with the two trusty thugs, Jessop and Rauf, who had saved me from a lynching in Mitcheldean.
I confess I quite enjoyed the journey along the Southwest coast of England. After all the time I’ve spent within the forest and my laboratory recently, it was invigorating to be somewhere with wide horizons and bracingly fresh air. I leant on the rails of the Severn Star’s port side and studied the coast as it slid by. After a half a dozen visits or so, I know the Southern coast of Wales fairly well and understand how easy it would be for a ship to hide in the myriad of coves that lie along it. However, the coast of Devon and Cornwall is if anything even worse in that regard.
My first stop was Trevalga, which while it appeared extremely defensible on a clifftop overlooking a small harbour, I couldn’t help but think how closely its set-up matched the description of Glenrisdell. I was greeted warmly by Maga Edenia of Verditius and Plautus of Flambeau. They said that the best person to speak to about mundane intelligences would be Magus Valence but he was out of the covenant in the nearby town of Bodmin investigating some sort of diabolist or pagan sect. Edenia returned to whatever commission she was crafting so I sat and chatted with Plautus who seemed like a pleasant fellow. He said that it was very hard to keep track of what goes on along the coast past Camelford castle to the Southwest and there were few settlements of any note until you’ve rounded Land’s End. Plautus said that there have a network of beacons in the surrounding lands to try to warn of any sighting of the Black Ship but he professed that he was not optimistic they would give much warning.
Their network is better to the Northeast, with good sources as far as Barnstaple and then patchier intelligence for the lands from there to Dunster castle. From the conversations I’d had with Vassily before setting out, it seems there is a clear gap between us stretching from Bristol to Bridgewater and I said that we’d look to fill that. Plautus was grateful and said that Valence was concerned that with so few Jerbiton in the tribunal, mundane infiltration by our enemies could be an issue. Indeed, it sounded like Valence was concerned it could already be happening.
The next stop was Carrion Moor. As Plautus had said, the coast around the tip of the peninsula on either side was extremely rough terrain with dozens of tiny coves and few signs of life. Closer to Plymouth the lands became more settled but there is clearly a wild and unhabited area of some size there. As I walked up the long and slightly unnerving road across the moor to the covenant, I couldn’t help but think of Marissa who was a source of much good advice and help when I was younger. In the covenant, I spoke with Loraticus of Tytalus and completed the spell exchange deal we had agreed at the last tribunal. I must get studying for I remember how exhilarating it felt to power through the waves in the form of a dolphin. Loraticus said that they had good coverage of the major settlements of Plymouth and Exeter and of ships up to Totnes. Their influence extends as far East as Lyme Regis.
Loraticus told me of a fascinating sounding cult that they have been investigating. The same one I believe that Valence was off looking for. They know it as the “Broken Mirror” cult on account of a symbol of theirs being a small hand mirror with inlaid cracked glass, though that is apparently not the name they call it themselves. Berenger thinks they are pagans but Loraticus believes it to be more of an occult nature. They’ve found members among local merchants and minor nobility, and suspect there may be some in universities. Currently they’ve no indication they’re a threat but they clearly lack any firm intelligence about them.
Jari’s private journal
Terentius is going to love trying to chase them down. On the times we’ve been out together hunting various enemies in the mundane world, there’s a gleam in his eyes and a spring in his step that is noticeably absent in council or around the covenant where he’s all-too often either drunk or grumpy, sometimes both.
I said my goodbyes to Loraticus and returned to the ship for the journey back North and around Wales to Holy Isle. On arriving there and walking up the steep stone steps that lead to the fortress that houses the covenant, I was once again denied entry by the gate sergeant as none of the magi were present. The sergeant didn’t appear to recognise me from before despite my greeting him cheerily by his name and somewhat gruffly took the message I left for them. As I left it occurred to me on reflection that he hadn’t in fact told me his name last time. Obviously dismissing the notion that I simply hadn’t been paying enough attention, I began to wonder whether there could be some malign influence seeking to cloud men’s minds around Holy Isle. I stopped and made to turn back, thinking to scribe another letter to alert the magi there to this possibility but on seeing the sergeant’s expression as I did so, decided that perhaps I would let it lie for now given how busy they are.
My next stop was Eurus Aquilae, lair, sorry Domus Magnus, of the Tremere. I was glad of the excellent directions given to me by Terentius as it is quite the trek inland, through rough terrain. There was much moaning about this from my bodyguards for it seems they are much happier dishing out violence than walking for more than a couple of hours.
I was met by Pravia who was polite but not overly friendly. I’m not sure if that’s just her guarded nature or whether some bitterness lingers about my efforts to get someone other than their lord and master elected. I couldn’t blame her if she did, Voressio is clearly a dreadful individual and an even worse Praeco. Whenever we hear news at council of whatever he’s done or failed to do I can feel Terentius’s baleful glare upon me. I’ve no regrets though if that’s what you’re thinking. Efficient and powerful autocrats are much more dangerous than selfish and weak idiots, even if they believe they’re acting for all the right reasons.
Anyway, most of the other magi were away helping Holy Isle at Glenrisdell or were at Winchester with the King. Pravia did however inform me that the UnNamed House’s scouts previously seen around Roxburgh had gone. There were no reports of alarm or attack from the castle there and no investigation has yet been made inside there. She also said that they believe the UnNamed House use illusions to change the appearance of the Black Ship as well as more mundane means, though the latter could not disguise the fact that it is a single masted ship. I relayed Terentius’s enthusiastic offer of help and she said that she would be happy to have help with regard to Roxburgh.
With that we made the return journey to the ship and thence back to Chepstow and the covenant, just in time for the start of Autumn.
Jari’s private journal
Although the inspiration for such a venture was more about avoiding being stuck with another tedious season of extracting vim vis, it proved to be an interesting and genuinely useful one. When I make an effort not to be too annoying, I believe I can deal more easily with other magi than most of the rest of the council, talking being a favourite occupation of mine rather than the chore it seems to be for several others here. Getting stuck with vis extraction should be a wake-up call to me that I’ve become a little too passive and need to be more proactive. There should always be interesting and useful things that I can propose, especially when a couple of the magi here seem content to remain within the covenant walls by default.
On which note I must stop bleating about being too scared of Jago to go into the faerie regio again. I just need to develop some magics to be able to deal with him. A ward against arrows and a spell to snap the bastard’s legs if he gets overly aggressive should be a good start.
Autumn
Council began with a report from Terentius that he’d managed to find three promising ore sites that lie without the bounds of the wild wood. One, near Lydney, is easily accessible though the other two, while apparently rich seams, will pose some questions as to how best to approach mining them.
One is near Blackney, perhaps one-third of the way towards the covenant from that place. This would mean that any mine there would be sited within one mile or so of the covenant, which is not ideal. The other is on Blackney Hill, held by Monmouth not Chepstow according to Theoclea. Of course, as their name suggests, freeminers are largely free to do as they please but were Chepstow to notice a source of iron close to its lands the Baron there might exert some pressure to ensure the ore is sent to Chepstow not Monmouth. However, Theoclea doesn’t expect this to be a major problem.
Terentius said that we could control the Blackney mine and Naevius agreed, as did Pyrrhus, so it seems Blackney shall be refounded though shipments will be sent via Lydney rather than opening up a new river dock closer to the covenant. Terentius, with his usual efficiency in such matters, asked for permission to sort it all himself. He will ensure all claims are registered appropriately this season and take matters from there.
I outlined what I’d learnt from my voyage around the Southwest corner of England and there was ready agreement on spending an additional 50d to expand our spy network to cover the lands ‘twixt Bristol and Bridgewater. Although our day-to-day finances are far from hale, we have sufficient reserves to last us for well over a decade at present. On hearing of a possible link between the ‘Broken Mirror’ cult and King’s College in Gloucester, Pyrrhus volunteered to dust off his scholarly robes and to make investigation in the college in Winter as one ‘Stephen of Deptford’. Happily this is not the same guise in which he incinerated the college bursar for hitting him with a stick a few years ago!
Branwen then asked Pyrrhus about the outcome of his recent House meeting. It seems that the role of Primus Flambeau was settled by a certamen, in which Alosius (Pyrrhus’s chosen candidate from Cliffheart covenant in Hibernia) defeated Guido (lately of Verdi covenant). Thus the Domus Magnus of Flambeau will move to Cliffheart and a house meeting will be held there next year. Presumably related to this, Pyrrhus stated he was off to Blackthorn to ask one of the Redcaps about the status of “certain covenants in Hibernia”. He wasn’t forthcoming on exactly what was meant by that but it sounds like interesting times are ahead for Hibernian magi!
Barely a few days into the season, Terentius reported that the Sheriff of Monmouth was taking a large party of men into the woods near Coleford with the clear intent of burning the trees back. There then followed yet another discussion about what we could do to prevent carnage of either trees, men or both. A perdo ignem effect would be too overtly unnatural and while Pyrrhus’ suggestion of conjuring a rainstorm might work better, no one can actually conjure such an effect so that suggestion was somewhat moot. Theoclea brought up the subject of a sacrifice once more and Naevius declared there would be an emergency meeting of council the next dawn.
Jari’s private journal
I had a quick chat with Branwen before the meeting and I think she is happy enough to take on the bloody work herself but fears the ramifications of being the one to conduct a human sacrifice. Wisely, she has little faith in the likes of Naevius and Pyrrhus not using it as a stick to beat her with, figuratively, for years to come.
Foolishly, when I sat down at the council chamber I was optimistic that we could set aside our disagreements and come up with a firm plan to resolve this situation. How naïve I was. Naevius graciously granted us leave to revisit the sacrifice plan and so it was once more put to the vote. The vote was evenly split with Naevius, Pyrrhus and Terentius voting against once more and Naevius arbitrarily casting the motion down. I can only imagine Naevius thinks he is being open minded. Traditionally I’d now embark on a rude and vituperative screed about what I think of the Pontifex but after so much going in circles on this subject I just can’t summon the energy to do so.
Anyway, if you’ve read the last few years of the journal, you can imagine how the discussion of what else we might do to prevent a war between the Jack and Monmouth went. Namely, highly repetitive, increasingly tetchy and wholly unproductive.
Jari’s private journal
To be politic given my currently improved relations with Pyrrhus I’ll not dent his fragile ego by writing this in the main journal record but for my own personal records I shall note he was almost as big a prick as Naevius.
In the end, Terentius and I agreed to make our way quietly and invisibly down to the woods near Coleford. The plan was for Terentius to sneak into the village to take what direct action he could without arousing too much suspicion while I waited without, hidden in the fringes of the woods lest anything go wrong with his magics. Branwen would also head there through the woods.
Two days’ later, Terentius’ familiar Meliorax spotted some a group of two dozen labourers with axes and barrels of oil on carts. A closer swoop past revealed that some of the barrels contained salt, showing just how much they meant business in terms of putting an end to the forest’s growth. The band of workmen co-opted several local men with coin and set up in a large barn in the centre of Coleford. The same barn in which I was briefly held prisoner when pretending to be a poorly peasant in one of our many earlier ventures to keep people out of the forest.
Anyway, Terentius made his way into the village as quietly and eagerly as a wolf stalking a sleeping fawn and cast ‘Confusion of the Numbed Will’ on the leader of the labourers. He followed this up with further magics to break the axle of the cart and to crack one of its wheels. The men heard it break and, somewhat on edge by then, began to offload the cargo. He finished by using a spontaneous perdo corporem spell to afflict two of the men with an unpleasant disease involving fever and a swollen throat. Somewhat tired by his efforts, Terentius then headed back to the covenant and I settled down for a night in the woods.
I’d not long settled down to sleep after my turn at watch had finished when I was abruptly woken by Races-the-Wind who had sensed the return of the Jack of the Green and an imminent attack, though he didn’t think it was an attack on me. Nevertheless, I could see that the surrounding trees were in unnerving motion and I found I had vines growing over me. After a slightly panicky moment before I realised I could pull myself free of them, I looked around to see what was happening. It was in any event an uneasy few hours until dawn when I saw the reassuring sight of Meliorax in the skies above once more. Perhaps Races’ premonition had more of a sense of what was still to come?
Meliorax soon spotted another dozen men coming down the road from Monmouth and relayed this news to Branwen. Unfortunately, the men showed little alarm about their two sick fellows and were up and about their business early that day. They split up into several groups of four or five men and set off for the treeline. As Terentius, Branwen and I hurried after them, Terentius and I both felt a sudden sharp pain in our sides as though we had been stabbed. The fact that we both felt it at the same time made it pretty clear that our status as guardians of the forest had bound us in some real way to the trees. I doubt I will ever feel the same about picking a pair of plums from a tree
We ran ahead, splitting up to try and reach a group each but we only had time to destroy a single axe haft each before the trees struck back. I transformed into a fox and fled, not knowing for sure the limits of the Jack’s bloody vengeance. As it was, while we were not assailed, none of the men who went to the forest returned. Terentius, ever bolder, was able to snatch one mutilated body, or at least most of it, and deposit it on the forest path as a warning to those who might seek after their fellows.
As we returned to resume our vigil about Coleford it was clear that the folk of the place, no more than one quarter of a mile from where the men had died, had heard enough of the screams to deduce what had happened. The village was thus a sombre place when the dozen men that Meliorax had earlier espied arrived. After a discussion with the men who had not gone into the woods, four brave souls headed up the forest road. On seeing the mutilated remains of the man there, they came to their senses and returned to the barn. The original leader and the two ‘sick’ men remained, while the remainder returned to Monmouth.
Not long after this, as I sat on a fallen log atop a slight rise in the forest, continuing my watch and still in the shape of a fox, I noticed one of the Old Ones stalking through the forest line. It was much changed from those we had seen before for its fur was matted with moss and as I cautiously approached I could see its eyes were now a dark green. Clearly the Jack’s influence had spread to at least one of the Old Ones.
With a cautious questioning glance at Races-the-Wind to see if his foot was itching, I met its gaze. The Old Ones were intimidating enough before, with great jaws at the same level as my face when in human form but knowing that they were under the sway of a power that hates men amplified my fears, though I hoped my being in the form of a fox would offer me some protection. The great wolf told me that it was one of the new guardians of the forest for the old ones appeared lacking. It then suggested I returned to the covenant.
Given all the build-up I’ve just done to emphasize why it was so frightening I should probably have taken its advice there and then. However, I’ve never been good at taking unasked for advice and felt I had to push back a little, simply asking “Aren’t we on the same side?” I was shocked by the speed of its subsequent attack and barely had time to move before it had clamped its jaws around me and thrown me violently across the small clearing. As I struggled to regain my senses it told me “leave or die”. So I left, with bushy tail firmly tucked between my legs.
I apported back to my sanctum and hurried to inform the other magi of this development, my shoulder and left arm still dripping blood. Fortunately, I didn’t get any on my new rug but it was a close-run thing. An informal council was duly called and all save Theoclea were present, she still keeping an eye on matters in Monmouth. Branwen was kind enough to cast the ‘Chirurgeon’s Healing Touch’ to salve my wound before we started.
Jari’s private journal
As earlier, while I’m trying to remain on good terms with Pyrrhus, for now at least, I won’t record certain amusing incidents in the main journal but will keep them for my quiet delectation here. Anyway, Pyrrhus affected great outrage at the Old One’s attack on me and started spouting all sorts of ridiculous high and mighty stuff until Races told him to shut up. Pyrrhus was clearly somewhat taken aback by this and unsure how to respond. I think he was probably also aware that having a public row with a small furry animal might not fit with his sense of self as a powerful Flambeau so he duly shut up, allowing Naevius to try and inject some reality into the conversation. Emboldened by this success, Races went further a few minutes later when Pyrrhus and I were arguing about whether destroying the heart of our magical aura was a profoundly stupid idea or not. Races told Pyrrhus to fuck off. I thought for a moment that Pyrrhus had been afflicted with apoplexy so red did he turn but once more he was sufficiently vexed that all he could muster was an indignant “you fuck off!”
The council meeting that followed about what to do next about the Jack was much livelier and more entertaining than the previously tedious such meetings. Pyrrhus began with lots of shouting about how an attack on a magus could not be tolerated and we should declare war on the tree god! Naevius took advantage of a momentary pause in Pyrrhus’ rant to remind him that the Jack could conjure effects of the fifteenth magnitude so simply “burning back the forest” probably wasn’t a good idea. Giving perhaps some insight into his recent dealings with the new primus of his house, and indeed the mindset of said primus, Pyrrhus boasted that he could call on allies to burn the heart of the forest.
At this point Branwen had had enough and let loose with a similarly impassioned retort which concluded with the pithy “it is pathetic magus”. Pyrrhus wasn’t impressed so I weighed in, pointing out that the Heart of the Forest is linked to the magical aura of the covenant so destroying it is highly risky at best. A point to which he could give no answer other than repeating his previous demands more loudly.
Terentius cut short the arguments by turning to Pyrrhus and loudly declaiming “perdo” and demanding “you will take no action regarding burning the forest without council approval.” Pyrrhus answered “ignem” and I watched what was likely to be a closely fought contest with keen interest and a refreshing ale.
Pyrrhus set the form of the contest, with each contestant having to destroy a wall of flames rushing towards each of them. Pyrrhus opened well with the imaginary flames coming close enough to Terentius to cause beads of sweat to appear on his brow. The Tremere rallied strongly and pushed them similarly close to Pyrrhus before an extra push caused Pyrrhus to take an involuntary step back before a final decisive flicker of hands weaving the shapes for perdo and ignem sent the flames roaring over Pyrrhus who slumped unconscious to the floor.
The meeting continued in slightly calmer manner though little was decided. We discussed whether Terentius and I were still guardians of the forest in the mind of Jack of the Green, who, let’s face it is the only one whose view matters in this. Flushed with his victory, Terentius magnanimously manifested something of Pyrrhus’ spirit by firmly declaring that he was not going to be barred from his own forest after Branwen made the eminently pragmatic offer of being the one to collect vis from those sources in the wild wood.
Another emergency council meeting was called several days later when Theoclea returned. She reported that word of terrible forest spirits tearing men apart had reached Monmouth and word had been sent to Tintern asking for their aid. There was some back and forth about the Old Ones having broken their previous deal, whether or not our men would still be safe on the forest road and so forth. Pyrrhus demonstrated the richness of imagination of those with great knowledge of the art of Creo by coming up with a range of increasingly inventive scenarios of what could happen next. His preference, somewhat surprisingly to me at least, seemed to be for some sort of intervention by the Nynniaw, enabled by a casting of Call the Council of Trees. There was little appetite for the casting of such a ritual amongst others though. Branwen reminded us with her customary perspicacity that the mundane reaction was still the primary problem. Could we make the Abbott fall ill to delay a Church response? But then what about monks from Huntley? Should we extend that to the sheriff? Where would it end? Badly probably snorted Pyrrhus at this point, likely not inaccurately to be fair to him.
Theoclea again raised the possibility of the blood sacrifice but Terentius dismissed it, saying he was still set against it. More tiresome debate ensued, covering little that was new and certainly nothing with any real prospect of stopping monks being eaten by giant wolves in Coleford and thereby significantly escalating the situation. The general attitude of most of the council seemed to be that we should throw our hands up in a resigned fashion and just let the worst happen, or hope Terentius can pull off something improbable using his proficiency for spontaneous magics.
I suggested staging a bandit attack on monks travelling to Coleford but this was not popular. In the end, Naevius called for a series of votes. First, in true dynamic Severn Temple style, we voted on whether we should take no action or some action. Fortunately, only Pyrrhus was in favour of no action so it came down to a choice between Terentius using magic to try and dissuade the Abbot of Tintern or staging a bandit attack on the monks as they made their way North. Pyrrhus abstained, Naevius and I voted for the bandits, while Terentius, Theoclea and Branwen voted in favour of Terentius heading to Tintern.
Terentius and I agreed to meet at the campsite near Tintern from where I would watch lest anything went wrong. The old site had been swallowed up by the forest so we had to find a new one, which I have to say was not as sheltered as the previous one and the ground underfoot contained many more roots and stones. Terentius and Meliorax set to investigating Tintern from the air, learning that the Abbot was still inside. They also saw a carriage with an escort of soldiers arrive in mid-afternoon that day. Our Tremere leapt into action. We’d shared spells allowing us to see each other even when made invisible, thus I was able to watch as he swam the river and climbed up onto the wall that surrounds the monastery. He hesitated for a moment as though unsure of where to start before hopping down inside and out of my sight, not long before dusk. I imagine he was planning on catching the abbot on his way to Vespers, the Cistercians’ evening prayer service.
Several minutes passed before I was startled by the sudden arrival of Meliorax, his feathers ruffled, screeching that “something has gone terribly wrong.” I flew as quickly as I could across the river and used magics to climb to the top of the wall. I looked around anxiously for any sign of Terentius, guessing that if his magics had gone wrong and he had not extricated himself that he was likely unconscious somewhere within the grounds. However, time was against me for I had scant moments before dusk fell and his, and my, invisibility faded. I ducked down and quickly recast my spell but even as I rose again to resume my search I heard cries of alarm from near the corner of the most easterly building. I saw them drag his body out from behind a stack of barrels and caught brief sight of bleeding eyes before they hooded and bound him. There were some two dozen monks crowding round, way too many for me to tackle even were I to use blatant magics. They bore him into a building out of my sight so I apported back to the covenant.
Another emergency council was quickly called and we discussed what we could do to help Terentius. The monks’ decision not to have killed him on the spot suggested some sort of trial was planned, though whether they would summon a magistrate or take him to Chepstow’s dungeons to be held was not knowable. Clearly were he to be moved to Chepstow, that could well happen the next day and would make a rescue attempt much harder.
So it was that I agreed to fly back down to Tintern and see what I could learn about how he was being held and whether we could get him out. I took with me potions to turn a man into a swift and a mouse, as well as a potion imbued with the Leap of Homecoming. With night having fallen, it was easy enough to sneak through the quiet and solemn grounds of the monastery. I saw Meliorax perched atop one of the buildings and peered through its shutters as best I could. Inside I could see two monks, one praying, in a large storeroom, facing a large, bolted trapdoor which was obviously serving as an impromptu prison for Terentius. Unfortunately, it appeared well-made enough that there was insufficient gap for a mouse to slip past. I decided to return to the covenant to report this, but as I made my way back to the wall I noted that the lights were on in the Abbot’s chambers so presumably he lived still.
Back in the covenant, I reported what I had seen. We decided to hold any direct action until we believed Terentius was in imminent danger. We resumed our watch near Tintern and later in the night heard a bell toll out mournfully. The Abbot was dead. There was no sign of any immediate rush to exact vengeance so we held fast.
Our resilient Tremere, on waking, was able to take stock of his surroundings, free himself from his bonds and apport home. There he spoke with Naevius and Pyrrhus, Branwen and I being near Tintern. Terentius said that he had tried to cast another one of his disease spells upon the Abbot to render him too sick to attend upon Monmouth. However, the malign effect of the Dominion twisted his magic and amplified its effect such that the Dominion’s erstwhile faithful servant the Abbot was stricken with a hideous disease. Blood drained from his flesh and poured out of his eyes. His hair turned white and fell out in clumps and he collapsed senseless. There was an immediate cry of “witchcraft” from his brothers! Terentius felt blood streaming from his eyes too as he also slumped to the ground unconscious, only waking in the storeroom cellar bound and hooded.
We had a further meeting once Terentius had rested. There was no sign that the monks had detected his escape for they seemed reluctant to risk being in the same place as him so had not noticed he was gone, though they had sent out a rider with a message. Never one to be deterred by past adversity, and also thinking about how to make a grave situation better, Terentius proposed that he apport back into the cellar and magically create a fake body to make it look like the witch had perished there.
Jari’s private journal
An admirably bold and dauntless fellow our Tremere!
All save Branwen voted in favour of such and so he boldly set off for Tintern once more. As he left he told us not to come after him if he fails again for he would get himself out.
Jari’s private journal
Ok, maybe he’s veering into ‘foolhardy’ territory now.
He was successful in doing so and able to return unharmed. Unfortunately, Terentius was unable to recover the items he was carrying, sensibly deeming it not worth the extra risk of going rooting through the monastery looking for them. Thus have we lost the Light of Myrddyn, the Inquisitor’s Pouch and the Orb of the Mind’s Eye. Useful items all but unlike Terentius, replaceable in time.
Theoclea, who had ventured out to discern the mundane consequences of a ‘warlock’ murdering the Abbot within Tintern, reported back a few days later. It seems that the monks believe the warlock has indeed died but that word has been sent to not just the Archbishop of Hereford, but also the Sheriff and a magistrate. While they’re not looking for anyone else, they still want to know who the man was. She said this would without a doubt make waves across the Dean and beyond, quite likely as far as the King. He however will likely have enough on his plate to pay it too much heed for he will be overwintering in Ireland and might be there until Summer next year. She said that the King will likely expect the Order to investigate.
Posing the question in an obviously wholly hypothetical manner, I wondered whether if we were to retrieve our magical items we could plausibly deny having been involved. Naevius sadly misunderstood my intent and said that we should tell the Quaesitor nothing but the whole truth.
To ensure that news of the attack was not mistaken by our sodales as some action by the UnNamed House, Terentius flew to Blackthorn and left messages explaining things for Gaines, Holy Isle and his primus.
Winter
Winter began in disappointingly mild fashion, the red and yellow leaves on the trees limp with autumnal rain. Echoing this depressing atmosphere, we began with a vote to ratify the decisions made in the non-formal lawful council meetings last season. It shows just how much of a reformed character I am these days, stop rolling your eyes Terentius, that I didn’t seek to change a single retrospective vote!
With nothing much more to discuss about Tintern for now, we debated what was happening with the Old Ones. How many had fallen under Jack’s sway? Did they pose an active threat to us now? At best estimate, they are likely at least of the seventh magnitude in terms of their magical power, at most tenth, though clearly such a range makes a big difference in terms of how hard it may be to create wards against them. The biggest ward we have in the covenant library is of the sixth magnitude.
As previously planned, Pyrrhus will venture to Gloucester to look for any sign of the ‘Broken Mirror’ cult there as well as picking up any general gossip from the city.
A week into the season, Gaines arrived at the covenant and was only slightly delayed by the grogs on the gate. Clearly the captain has clearly been working hard on discipline of late! Gaines gave the council the mundane news that the King has won several victories over assorted local warlords and petty Kings in the North of Hibernia. He has given out a lot of this newly conquered land to his nobles who lost land to the French in the hopes of keeping them happy. Or at least not unhappy enough to think of rebelling. Gaines said that there has been no sign of the UnNamed House of late and Holy Isle apparently believes that they are looking beyond Stonehenge, especially now that their bitter historical enemy, House Flambeau, has its Domus Magnus there.
Gaines also noted that he had read Terentius’ letter about a potential breach of the Primary Code and was happy to stay for a few days to investigate it.
After conducting his enquiries, Gaines said that he would speak with Senior Quaesitor Romanus by the next tribunal before deciding on a possible charge. He said he thought it likely though that Terentius would be charged with a breach of the Primary Code.
Intriguingly, Pyrrhus returned a week before the end of the season having found what he thinks may be signs of some form of cult activity. One of the scholars there, Peter, has been having secret meetings with two others and he was overheard saying” next week with the new moon make sure we arrive early”. Pyrrhus clearly knew more but told me to wait until he could make report to the whole council. He spent the last few days of year cloistered with the scrying mirror, trying to glean more from Peter’s activities for he had been able to get an arcane connection to the man. With luck he may have found us some members of this cult! I’m wholly sick of matters relating to Jack of the Green, and in truth have run out of ideas anyway, so a new challenge would be most welcome.
Spring 1314AD
The new year began brightly with a fine winter’s day. As I looked out of my window, I could see a covering of fresh snow blanketing the ground in a comforting embrace while the stonework glittered with an early morning frost. There was a spring in my step as I skipped down the tower stairs to the council chamber. Sadly, such fine humour did not last long for I saw the tense faces on several of my sodales and remembered that this was the meeting at which we must elect the next Princeps. What joy.
While I am capable of breathtaking hypocrisy when it suits or amuses me, such a role is anathema to me and I wished no part of it. However, the Charter is set as such and at least the powers it imbues the holder with have been significantly neutered from the previous dictatorial absurdities of the Pontifex.
Pyrrhus of course declared that he would stand again and he was duly seconded by Theoclea. Naevius also announced his candidature and was duly seconded by Branwen. Thus was the scene set for a veritable clash of the latin titans.
Jari’s private journal
While Pyrrhus is frequently unpleasant and dull-witted, he does not attempt to regulate things too tightly at council. Of course, that may be by incompetence or a reluctance to be shown up rather than any liberal philosophy but that’s not the point. Better the devil you know, though that’s probably not a sentiment to express to him in person.
I confess I almost choked on my morning ale when Branwen seconded Naevius. I can only imagine that Pyrrhus’s constant rudeness must have annoyed her more than she’d let on!
They both gave speeches in which they very generously promised to allow everyone free speech at council. Pyrrhus made what I thought should have been a winning pitch by stating that he would undertake the covenant’s mundane and boring duties if elected. Terentius however followed that up by asking a very pointed question about how effective they thought the council was at making decisions. Pyrrhus said that we shouldn’t be hasty in making important decisions while Naevius expressed his distaste for what he termed as “agendas” and said that he wanted to give council more “direction” and to cut short discussions. This seemed somewhat at odds to his stated goal of allowing free discussion but hey ho. Hopefully he just said it to win Terentius’s vote but time will tell.
The vote was split, with Pyrrhus, Theoclea and yours truly voting for Pyrrhus while Terentius, Branwen and Naevius voted for Naevius. Disappointingly, for who doesn’t like a good spectacle, neither magus was prepared to let the arts decide the matter so the decision as to who would hold sway at council was decided by the drawing of lots. Naevius won and with a brazenness that even I might have blanched at, declared that this was a good omen. Unsurprisingly he promptly appointed Terentius was his deputy.
Led by our new glorious prince, we then returned to the matter of preventing a conflict between Monmouth and the Jack of the Green. Terentius reported that our man Wilfred has recruited six other fellows to join him in working Terentius’ seams. Interestingly, while in Monmouth, Terentius encountered the faerie minstrel Rhys and, as a casting of ‘Sense the Lingering Magic’ revealed, had his emotions affected by the faerie’s music. This confirms what I suspected of Rhys’s powerful nature but I do not think he is likely to be a threat to us of any kind other than making people enjoy his music more than they otherwise might have done.
After that interesting little interlude, we returned to the ongoing and by now quite tedious discussions of iron ore production. Branwen did her best to enliven things by talking up her sacrifice plan which seemed well worth considering to me given one person’s death would likely prevent many but of course put others’ backs up. A vote was held as to whether “In principle, should we proceed with discussion of sacrifice”. Branwen and I voted for it, Naevius and Terentius against, while Theoclea and Pyrrhus abstained. Naevius used his new powers to carry the vote in his favour. So what else was to be done? I won’t bore you with all the interminable back and forth other than Pyrrhus staying true to form despite his obvious disappointment at losing his position by suggesting we burn out the Jack of the Green! Eventually we came back full circle to using disease to scare off the miners once more.
Jari’s private journal
Happily, the early signs are that Naevius is as capable as Pyrrhus at cutting short discussion! I still wonder what deal Branwen cut to get that wooden finger of hers and with who or what. Clearly it’s bought her access to the Jack but beyond that who knows? She’s quite rightly suspicious that I’m trying to ferret out her magical secrets but while I would obviously dearly love to know, I’ve no desire to take sides and bind myself to one of the powers involved as I believe she must have. I should consider the possibility that much knowledge of such ancient powers and magics may be much harder to glean without tying yourself to one of them. On the bright side, if she can act as intermediary to the Jack then she is welcome to such a role. I still remember Erik’s screams of agony all too well so have little desire to deal with such a twisted entity.
Next we discussed the matter of the UnNamed House and the fear that they have taken maga Eloise. There was in truth little we could do other than send letter to Trevalga to better coordinate our mundane spy networks and thereby improve our chances of spotting any suspicious activity on the Southwest coast of England. Terentius remains keen to press the investigation of Roxburgh but we need more information first from those who have been keeping an eye on that place recently and they are very busy currently.
We then talked about what should be done with the four treasures of Britain that currently sit within the covenant, namely the Crown of Madh, Excalibur and its scabbard, and the chalice. Naevius wanted us to take a more proactive role in what to do with them which was sensible but no one had any real suggestions other than crafting a magically protected chest in which to store them and he dismissed that one out of hand. Not that I’m bitter about that you understand. Theoclea, quite sensibly, did not want anything to do with any of them. Of course leaving such items unclaimed is merely storing up big trouble for the future and we can’t simply sit on them for too long without inviting disaster. But no one had any further ideas so that was that for Prince Naevius’s first meeting.
Jari’s private journal
The extent to which Pyrrhus was invested in his role of Princeps was made clearer after the meeting concluded when he approached me and asked if I needed any perdo vis and offered to trade any spare vis I might have at his house meeting. It was a kind gesture brought about I believe by his gratitude for my vote for him. I didn’t like to tell him that it was more of a vote against Naevius than for him but if he is going to treat with me as reasonably as this I should perhaps genuinely reciprocate for it may be helpful to keep him on my side with Naevius’s dictatorial side likely to come out before too long.
After the council was concluded, Pyrrhus set off for his House meeting with his shield grog, who has somehow carelessly lost his nose. He looked an ill-tempered and burly fellow though so I resisted the temptation to make any jokes about it.
Jari’s private journal
At least not to his big flat face anyway.
Terentius meanwhile set off on his mission to leave bloodied diarrhoea and sore-ridden dead bodies strewn across strategic pathways near Coleford and Clearwell. He found that two other groups of freeminers had entered the forest with predictably fatal results, though from the tales that he heard, those who huddled around a campfire were not taken while they did so. Branwen, with her mystical intuition for such things, suggested that this could mean that fire may protect against a god of the woods. A keen and useful insight to ponder.
Vassily was set to carefully monitor mundane reaction to both word of a “devil in the woods” and the disease-ridden bodies which survivors came across. Plague fires were quickly set at Coleford so with luck Terentius’s mission has been successful for now at least.
Meanwhile, Races and I had set off to find the Myrddin’s Stone once more. The air in the thicker parts of the wood that we crossed on the way was somewhat oppressive and brambles and branches constantly snagged at my clothing, though enough only to cause frustration not serious impediment. Just the Jack expressing his displeasure at me walking through the forest in human form I believe, for Races the Wind was not affected at all. As he constantly informed me.
We found the stone quite easily and the air on top of the small hill upon which it sits was a little fresher. I peered at the stone using the sight granted to me by my faerie blood and saw the subtle diffuse starlight that I have come to recognise as characteristic of ‘ancient’ magics. That is to say those which cannot readily be discerned as either ‘magic’ or ‘faerie’ but retain elements of both.
As my gaze wandered beyond the stone I noticed a figure appear. I bade it hello and it manifested in the form of a great deer. This was not the golden-eyed stag that I had met with previously as the influence of the Jack lay heavily upon it. There were vines snaking up its horns and moss lay heavy upon its coat. It told me that the forest was hale and when I asked if it was now under the sway of the Jack, as it had previously feared, it stated that “He is an ally of the forest and under the boughs of the wild wood he has considerable power.” Somewhat of an equivocation there then but in truth the answer was writ large in its appearance. I asked if I could help but it simply replied that the forest was hale and it did not think any could best it. I pressed it as to whether the wild wood sought to claim the temple. The spirit replied that not all the forest was part of the wild wood, including the covenant, but that the Green King claimed all in the wild wood. Races asked whether the spirit’s authority extended beyond the wild wood, and it said that deer were native to the forest and that the non-wild parts of the wood were still worthy of protection. Our protection as guardians would hold in the wild wood as long as the forest is healthy.
This was of course something of a relief to hear even if did mean that there will likely needs be more talk about iron ore and bloody diarrhoea before too long. The spirit added that there was no set boundary to which the forest must keep, an allusion no doubt to the great forest of old which once stretched from coast to coast across this land. As we left, it occurred to me that the spirit had shown no sign of deer-like timidity it had previously manifested. Another sign of the Jack’s influence no doubt.
Summer
All save Pyrrhus were present at the Summer meeting. Theoclea gave update of goings on in the English court. It seems that England will be invading Hibernia on some legally dubious pretext involving reclaiming ancient titles. The fleet is marshalling at Portsmouth and she thought it likely that, as a senior noble, the Baron of Monmouth will be on one of those ships headed to war.
Terentius then relayed what he had learnt of the situation to our West. The freemining settlement on Symonds Hill, led by the surprisingly competent former grog Wilfrid appears to be thriving with a dozen men working there now. One might wish that such competence could be more apparent in those grogs who man the gate and ‘welcome’ visiting magi to our covenant but it would be a great shame not to hear any more tales of the hilariously uncivil conversations they’ve had with quite senior magi.
Anyway, Vassily, and his apprentice Kenneth, a man with a natural charm that should stand him in good stead, have reported that word has reached Monmouth of rumours of “devils in the woods” who take the form of trees and tear apart men. Fortunately, with the Baron away, it is unlikely that the Sheriff will take any drastic action. In any event, Vassily’s agents reported that the Sheriff is apparently a much relieved man now that some iron ore has started to flow from the Dean into Monmouth. There was also talk there that a plague had broken out again near Coleford so hopefully the combination of the two should be enough to at least keep things from getting worse for now. Terentius says that Monmouth is receiving about one third of the ore that it used to so it will not be enough in the long term. Theoclea agreed to use her influence to secure Kenneth a position as a clerk in the Sheriff’s office to further our intelligence gathering there. With luck, there will not be any freeminers bold enough to venture back into the forest until at least Autumn.
After more debate about how best we might locate further sources of ore that could be mined, Terentius agreed that he will venture out into the forest and use the gift granted him by the Shining One to cast spontaneous magics of sufficient magnitude to be able to locate seams of iron within a large enough radius to make such a search practical. As opposed to the proverbial needle in a haystack effort which would result should any of the rest of us try.
Lastly, Branwen reported she has made half a dozen bloody stool potions for the covenant to further our efforts to spread talk of disease hereabouts. How noble is our art!
My service was to take the ship and venture down to Trevalga and Carrion Moor to the South and then North to Holy Isle and hopefully Eurus Aquilae and Borrea Tor. With the authority to trade spells and make other such deals burning a hole in my pouch, I set off with the two trusty thugs, Jessop and Rauf, who had saved me from a lynching in Mitcheldean.
I confess I quite enjoyed the journey along the Southwest coast of England. After all the time I’ve spent within the forest and my laboratory recently, it was invigorating to be somewhere with wide horizons and bracingly fresh air. I leant on the rails of the Severn Star’s port side and studied the coast as it slid by. After a half a dozen visits or so, I know the Southern coast of Wales fairly well and understand how easy it would be for a ship to hide in the myriad of coves that lie along it. However, the coast of Devon and Cornwall is if anything even worse in that regard.
My first stop was Trevalga, which while it appeared extremely defensible on a clifftop overlooking a small harbour, I couldn’t help but think how closely its set-up matched the description of Glenrisdell. I was greeted warmly by Maga Edenia of Verditius and Plautus of Flambeau. They said that the best person to speak to about mundane intelligences would be Magus Valence but he was out of the covenant in the nearby town of Bodmin investigating some sort of diabolist or pagan sect. Edenia returned to whatever commission she was crafting so I sat and chatted with Plautus who seemed like a pleasant fellow. He said that it was very hard to keep track of what goes on along the coast past Camelford castle to the Southwest and there were few settlements of any note until you’ve rounded Land’s End. Plautus said that there have a network of beacons in the surrounding lands to try to warn of any sighting of the Black Ship but he professed that he was not optimistic they would give much warning.
Their network is better to the Northeast, with good sources as far as Barnstaple and then patchier intelligence for the lands from there to Dunster castle. From the conversations I’d had with Vassily before setting out, it seems there is a clear gap between us stretching from Bristol to Bridgewater and I said that we’d look to fill that. Plautus was grateful and said that Valence was concerned that with so few Jerbiton in the tribunal, mundane infiltration by our enemies could be an issue. Indeed, it sounded like Valence was concerned it could already be happening.
The next stop was Carrion Moor. As Plautus had said, the coast around the tip of the peninsula on either side was extremely rough terrain with dozens of tiny coves and few signs of life. Closer to Plymouth the lands became more settled but there is clearly a wild and unhabited area of some size there. As I walked up the long and slightly unnerving road across the moor to the covenant, I couldn’t help but think of Marissa who was a source of much good advice and help when I was younger. In the covenant, I spoke with Loraticus of Tytalus and completed the spell exchange deal we had agreed at the last tribunal. I must get studying for I remember how exhilarating it felt to power through the waves in the form of a dolphin. Loraticus said that they had good coverage of the major settlements of Plymouth and Exeter and of ships up to Totnes. Their influence extends as far East as Lyme Regis.
Loraticus told me of a fascinating sounding cult that they have been investigating. The same one I believe that Valence was off looking for. They know it as the “Broken Mirror” cult on account of a symbol of theirs being a small hand mirror with inlaid cracked glass, though that is apparently not the name they call it themselves. Berenger thinks they are pagans but Loraticus believes it to be more of an occult nature. They’ve found members among local merchants and minor nobility, and suspect there may be some in universities. Currently they’ve no indication they’re a threat but they clearly lack any firm intelligence about them.
Jari’s private journal
Terentius is going to love trying to chase them down. On the times we’ve been out together hunting various enemies in the mundane world, there’s a gleam in his eyes and a spring in his step that is noticeably absent in council or around the covenant where he’s all-too often either drunk or grumpy, sometimes both.
I said my goodbyes to Loraticus and returned to the ship for the journey back North and around Wales to Holy Isle. On arriving there and walking up the steep stone steps that lead to the fortress that houses the covenant, I was once again denied entry by the gate sergeant as none of the magi were present. The sergeant didn’t appear to recognise me from before despite my greeting him cheerily by his name and somewhat gruffly took the message I left for them. As I left it occurred to me on reflection that he hadn’t in fact told me his name last time. Obviously dismissing the notion that I simply hadn’t been paying enough attention, I began to wonder whether there could be some malign influence seeking to cloud men’s minds around Holy Isle. I stopped and made to turn back, thinking to scribe another letter to alert the magi there to this possibility but on seeing the sergeant’s expression as I did so, decided that perhaps I would let it lie for now given how busy they are.
My next stop was Eurus Aquilae, lair, sorry Domus Magnus, of the Tremere. I was glad of the excellent directions given to me by Terentius as it is quite the trek inland, through rough terrain. There was much moaning about this from my bodyguards for it seems they are much happier dishing out violence than walking for more than a couple of hours.
I was met by Pravia who was polite but not overly friendly. I’m not sure if that’s just her guarded nature or whether some bitterness lingers about my efforts to get someone other than their lord and master elected. I couldn’t blame her if she did, Voressio is clearly a dreadful individual and an even worse Praeco. Whenever we hear news at council of whatever he’s done or failed to do I can feel Terentius’s baleful glare upon me. I’ve no regrets though if that’s what you’re thinking. Efficient and powerful autocrats are much more dangerous than selfish and weak idiots, even if they believe they’re acting for all the right reasons.
Anyway, most of the other magi were away helping Holy Isle at Glenrisdell or were at Winchester with the King. Pravia did however inform me that the UnNamed House’s scouts previously seen around Roxburgh had gone. There were no reports of alarm or attack from the castle there and no investigation has yet been made inside there. She also said that they believe the UnNamed House use illusions to change the appearance of the Black Ship as well as more mundane means, though the latter could not disguise the fact that it is a single masted ship. I relayed Terentius’s enthusiastic offer of help and she said that she would be happy to have help with regard to Roxburgh.
With that we made the return journey to the ship and thence back to Chepstow and the covenant, just in time for the start of Autumn.
Jari’s private journal
Although the inspiration for such a venture was more about avoiding being stuck with another tedious season of extracting vim vis, it proved to be an interesting and genuinely useful one. When I make an effort not to be too annoying, I believe I can deal more easily with other magi than most of the rest of the council, talking being a favourite occupation of mine rather than the chore it seems to be for several others here. Getting stuck with vis extraction should be a wake-up call to me that I’ve become a little too passive and need to be more proactive. There should always be interesting and useful things that I can propose, especially when a couple of the magi here seem content to remain within the covenant walls by default.
On which note I must stop bleating about being too scared of Jago to go into the faerie regio again. I just need to develop some magics to be able to deal with him. A ward against arrows and a spell to snap the bastard’s legs if he gets overly aggressive should be a good start.
Autumn
Council began with a report from Terentius that he’d managed to find three promising ore sites that lie without the bounds of the wild wood. One, near Lydney, is easily accessible though the other two, while apparently rich seams, will pose some questions as to how best to approach mining them.
One is near Blackney, perhaps one-third of the way towards the covenant from that place. This would mean that any mine there would be sited within one mile or so of the covenant, which is not ideal. The other is on Blackney Hill, held by Monmouth not Chepstow according to Theoclea. Of course, as their name suggests, freeminers are largely free to do as they please but were Chepstow to notice a source of iron close to its lands the Baron there might exert some pressure to ensure the ore is sent to Chepstow not Monmouth. However, Theoclea doesn’t expect this to be a major problem.
Terentius said that we could control the Blackney mine and Naevius agreed, as did Pyrrhus, so it seems Blackney shall be refounded though shipments will be sent via Lydney rather than opening up a new river dock closer to the covenant. Terentius, with his usual efficiency in such matters, asked for permission to sort it all himself. He will ensure all claims are registered appropriately this season and take matters from there.
I outlined what I’d learnt from my voyage around the Southwest corner of England and there was ready agreement on spending an additional 50d to expand our spy network to cover the lands ‘twixt Bristol and Bridgewater. Although our day-to-day finances are far from hale, we have sufficient reserves to last us for well over a decade at present. On hearing of a possible link between the ‘Broken Mirror’ cult and King’s College in Gloucester, Pyrrhus volunteered to dust off his scholarly robes and to make investigation in the college in Winter as one ‘Stephen of Deptford’. Happily this is not the same guise in which he incinerated the college bursar for hitting him with a stick a few years ago!
Branwen then asked Pyrrhus about the outcome of his recent House meeting. It seems that the role of Primus Flambeau was settled by a certamen, in which Alosius (Pyrrhus’s chosen candidate from Cliffheart covenant in Hibernia) defeated Guido (lately of Verdi covenant). Thus the Domus Magnus of Flambeau will move to Cliffheart and a house meeting will be held there next year. Presumably related to this, Pyrrhus stated he was off to Blackthorn to ask one of the Redcaps about the status of “certain covenants in Hibernia”. He wasn’t forthcoming on exactly what was meant by that but it sounds like interesting times are ahead for Hibernian magi!
Barely a few days into the season, Terentius reported that the Sheriff of Monmouth was taking a large party of men into the woods near Coleford with the clear intent of burning the trees back. There then followed yet another discussion about what we could do to prevent carnage of either trees, men or both. A perdo ignem effect would be too overtly unnatural and while Pyrrhus’ suggestion of conjuring a rainstorm might work better, no one can actually conjure such an effect so that suggestion was somewhat moot. Theoclea brought up the subject of a sacrifice once more and Naevius declared there would be an emergency meeting of council the next dawn.
Jari’s private journal
I had a quick chat with Branwen before the meeting and I think she is happy enough to take on the bloody work herself but fears the ramifications of being the one to conduct a human sacrifice. Wisely, she has little faith in the likes of Naevius and Pyrrhus not using it as a stick to beat her with, figuratively, for years to come.
Foolishly, when I sat down at the council chamber I was optimistic that we could set aside our disagreements and come up with a firm plan to resolve this situation. How naïve I was. Naevius graciously granted us leave to revisit the sacrifice plan and so it was once more put to the vote. The vote was evenly split with Naevius, Pyrrhus and Terentius voting against once more and Naevius arbitrarily casting the motion down. I can only imagine Naevius thinks he is being open minded. Traditionally I’d now embark on a rude and vituperative screed about what I think of the Pontifex but after so much going in circles on this subject I just can’t summon the energy to do so.
Anyway, if you’ve read the last few years of the journal, you can imagine how the discussion of what else we might do to prevent a war between the Jack and Monmouth went. Namely, highly repetitive, increasingly tetchy and wholly unproductive.
Jari’s private journal
To be politic given my currently improved relations with Pyrrhus I’ll not dent his fragile ego by writing this in the main journal record but for my own personal records I shall note he was almost as big a prick as Naevius.
In the end, Terentius and I agreed to make our way quietly and invisibly down to the woods near Coleford. The plan was for Terentius to sneak into the village to take what direct action he could without arousing too much suspicion while I waited without, hidden in the fringes of the woods lest anything go wrong with his magics. Branwen would also head there through the woods.
Two days’ later, Terentius’ familiar Meliorax spotted some a group of two dozen labourers with axes and barrels of oil on carts. A closer swoop past revealed that some of the barrels contained salt, showing just how much they meant business in terms of putting an end to the forest’s growth. The band of workmen co-opted several local men with coin and set up in a large barn in the centre of Coleford. The same barn in which I was briefly held prisoner when pretending to be a poorly peasant in one of our many earlier ventures to keep people out of the forest.
Anyway, Terentius made his way into the village as quietly and eagerly as a wolf stalking a sleeping fawn and cast ‘Confusion of the Numbed Will’ on the leader of the labourers. He followed this up with further magics to break the axle of the cart and to crack one of its wheels. The men heard it break and, somewhat on edge by then, began to offload the cargo. He finished by using a spontaneous perdo corporem spell to afflict two of the men with an unpleasant disease involving fever and a swollen throat. Somewhat tired by his efforts, Terentius then headed back to the covenant and I settled down for a night in the woods.
I’d not long settled down to sleep after my turn at watch had finished when I was abruptly woken by Races-the-Wind who had sensed the return of the Jack of the Green and an imminent attack, though he didn’t think it was an attack on me. Nevertheless, I could see that the surrounding trees were in unnerving motion and I found I had vines growing over me. After a slightly panicky moment before I realised I could pull myself free of them, I looked around to see what was happening. It was in any event an uneasy few hours until dawn when I saw the reassuring sight of Meliorax in the skies above once more. Perhaps Races’ premonition had more of a sense of what was still to come?
Meliorax soon spotted another dozen men coming down the road from Monmouth and relayed this news to Branwen. Unfortunately, the men showed little alarm about their two sick fellows and were up and about their business early that day. They split up into several groups of four or five men and set off for the treeline. As Terentius, Branwen and I hurried after them, Terentius and I both felt a sudden sharp pain in our sides as though we had been stabbed. The fact that we both felt it at the same time made it pretty clear that our status as guardians of the forest had bound us in some real way to the trees. I doubt I will ever feel the same about picking a pair of plums from a tree
We ran ahead, splitting up to try and reach a group each but we only had time to destroy a single axe haft each before the trees struck back. I transformed into a fox and fled, not knowing for sure the limits of the Jack’s bloody vengeance. As it was, while we were not assailed, none of the men who went to the forest returned. Terentius, ever bolder, was able to snatch one mutilated body, or at least most of it, and deposit it on the forest path as a warning to those who might seek after their fellows.
As we returned to resume our vigil about Coleford it was clear that the folk of the place, no more than one quarter of a mile from where the men had died, had heard enough of the screams to deduce what had happened. The village was thus a sombre place when the dozen men that Meliorax had earlier espied arrived. After a discussion with the men who had not gone into the woods, four brave souls headed up the forest road. On seeing the mutilated remains of the man there, they came to their senses and returned to the barn. The original leader and the two ‘sick’ men remained, while the remainder returned to Monmouth.
Not long after this, as I sat on a fallen log atop a slight rise in the forest, continuing my watch and still in the shape of a fox, I noticed one of the Old Ones stalking through the forest line. It was much changed from those we had seen before for its fur was matted with moss and as I cautiously approached I could see its eyes were now a dark green. Clearly the Jack’s influence had spread to at least one of the Old Ones.
With a cautious questioning glance at Races-the-Wind to see if his foot was itching, I met its gaze. The Old Ones were intimidating enough before, with great jaws at the same level as my face when in human form but knowing that they were under the sway of a power that hates men amplified my fears, though I hoped my being in the form of a fox would offer me some protection. The great wolf told me that it was one of the new guardians of the forest for the old ones appeared lacking. It then suggested I returned to the covenant.
Given all the build-up I’ve just done to emphasize why it was so frightening I should probably have taken its advice there and then. However, I’ve never been good at taking unasked for advice and felt I had to push back a little, simply asking “Aren’t we on the same side?” I was shocked by the speed of its subsequent attack and barely had time to move before it had clamped its jaws around me and thrown me violently across the small clearing. As I struggled to regain my senses it told me “leave or die”. So I left, with bushy tail firmly tucked between my legs.
I apported back to my sanctum and hurried to inform the other magi of this development, my shoulder and left arm still dripping blood. Fortunately, I didn’t get any on my new rug but it was a close-run thing. An informal council was duly called and all save Theoclea were present, she still keeping an eye on matters in Monmouth. Branwen was kind enough to cast the ‘Chirurgeon’s Healing Touch’ to salve my wound before we started.
Jari’s private journal
As earlier, while I’m trying to remain on good terms with Pyrrhus, for now at least, I won’t record certain amusing incidents in the main journal but will keep them for my quiet delectation here. Anyway, Pyrrhus affected great outrage at the Old One’s attack on me and started spouting all sorts of ridiculous high and mighty stuff until Races told him to shut up. Pyrrhus was clearly somewhat taken aback by this and unsure how to respond. I think he was probably also aware that having a public row with a small furry animal might not fit with his sense of self as a powerful Flambeau so he duly shut up, allowing Naevius to try and inject some reality into the conversation. Emboldened by this success, Races went further a few minutes later when Pyrrhus and I were arguing about whether destroying the heart of our magical aura was a profoundly stupid idea or not. Races told Pyrrhus to fuck off. I thought for a moment that Pyrrhus had been afflicted with apoplexy so red did he turn but once more he was sufficiently vexed that all he could muster was an indignant “you fuck off!”
The council meeting that followed about what to do next about the Jack was much livelier and more entertaining than the previously tedious such meetings. Pyrrhus began with lots of shouting about how an attack on a magus could not be tolerated and we should declare war on the tree god! Naevius took advantage of a momentary pause in Pyrrhus’ rant to remind him that the Jack could conjure effects of the fifteenth magnitude so simply “burning back the forest” probably wasn’t a good idea. Giving perhaps some insight into his recent dealings with the new primus of his house, and indeed the mindset of said primus, Pyrrhus boasted that he could call on allies to burn the heart of the forest.
At this point Branwen had had enough and let loose with a similarly impassioned retort which concluded with the pithy “it is pathetic magus”. Pyrrhus wasn’t impressed so I weighed in, pointing out that the Heart of the Forest is linked to the magical aura of the covenant so destroying it is highly risky at best. A point to which he could give no answer other than repeating his previous demands more loudly.
Terentius cut short the arguments by turning to Pyrrhus and loudly declaiming “perdo” and demanding “you will take no action regarding burning the forest without council approval.” Pyrrhus answered “ignem” and I watched what was likely to be a closely fought contest with keen interest and a refreshing ale.
Pyrrhus set the form of the contest, with each contestant having to destroy a wall of flames rushing towards each of them. Pyrrhus opened well with the imaginary flames coming close enough to Terentius to cause beads of sweat to appear on his brow. The Tremere rallied strongly and pushed them similarly close to Pyrrhus before an extra push caused Pyrrhus to take an involuntary step back before a final decisive flicker of hands weaving the shapes for perdo and ignem sent the flames roaring over Pyrrhus who slumped unconscious to the floor.
The meeting continued in slightly calmer manner though little was decided. We discussed whether Terentius and I were still guardians of the forest in the mind of Jack of the Green, who, let’s face it is the only one whose view matters in this. Flushed with his victory, Terentius magnanimously manifested something of Pyrrhus’ spirit by firmly declaring that he was not going to be barred from his own forest after Branwen made the eminently pragmatic offer of being the one to collect vis from those sources in the wild wood.
Another emergency council meeting was called several days later when Theoclea returned. She reported that word of terrible forest spirits tearing men apart had reached Monmouth and word had been sent to Tintern asking for their aid. There was some back and forth about the Old Ones having broken their previous deal, whether or not our men would still be safe on the forest road and so forth. Pyrrhus demonstrated the richness of imagination of those with great knowledge of the art of Creo by coming up with a range of increasingly inventive scenarios of what could happen next. His preference, somewhat surprisingly to me at least, seemed to be for some sort of intervention by the Nynniaw, enabled by a casting of Call the Council of Trees. There was little appetite for the casting of such a ritual amongst others though. Branwen reminded us with her customary perspicacity that the mundane reaction was still the primary problem. Could we make the Abbott fall ill to delay a Church response? But then what about monks from Huntley? Should we extend that to the sheriff? Where would it end? Badly probably snorted Pyrrhus at this point, likely not inaccurately to be fair to him.
Theoclea again raised the possibility of the blood sacrifice but Terentius dismissed it, saying he was still set against it. More tiresome debate ensued, covering little that was new and certainly nothing with any real prospect of stopping monks being eaten by giant wolves in Coleford and thereby significantly escalating the situation. The general attitude of most of the council seemed to be that we should throw our hands up in a resigned fashion and just let the worst happen, or hope Terentius can pull off something improbable using his proficiency for spontaneous magics.
I suggested staging a bandit attack on monks travelling to Coleford but this was not popular. In the end, Naevius called for a series of votes. First, in true dynamic Severn Temple style, we voted on whether we should take no action or some action. Fortunately, only Pyrrhus was in favour of no action so it came down to a choice between Terentius using magic to try and dissuade the Abbot of Tintern or staging a bandit attack on the monks as they made their way North. Pyrrhus abstained, Naevius and I voted for the bandits, while Terentius, Theoclea and Branwen voted in favour of Terentius heading to Tintern.
Terentius and I agreed to meet at the campsite near Tintern from where I would watch lest anything went wrong. The old site had been swallowed up by the forest so we had to find a new one, which I have to say was not as sheltered as the previous one and the ground underfoot contained many more roots and stones. Terentius and Meliorax set to investigating Tintern from the air, learning that the Abbot was still inside. They also saw a carriage with an escort of soldiers arrive in mid-afternoon that day. Our Tremere leapt into action. We’d shared spells allowing us to see each other even when made invisible, thus I was able to watch as he swam the river and climbed up onto the wall that surrounds the monastery. He hesitated for a moment as though unsure of where to start before hopping down inside and out of my sight, not long before dusk. I imagine he was planning on catching the abbot on his way to Vespers, the Cistercians’ evening prayer service.
Several minutes passed before I was startled by the sudden arrival of Meliorax, his feathers ruffled, screeching that “something has gone terribly wrong.” I flew as quickly as I could across the river and used magics to climb to the top of the wall. I looked around anxiously for any sign of Terentius, guessing that if his magics had gone wrong and he had not extricated himself that he was likely unconscious somewhere within the grounds. However, time was against me for I had scant moments before dusk fell and his, and my, invisibility faded. I ducked down and quickly recast my spell but even as I rose again to resume my search I heard cries of alarm from near the corner of the most easterly building. I saw them drag his body out from behind a stack of barrels and caught brief sight of bleeding eyes before they hooded and bound him. There were some two dozen monks crowding round, way too many for me to tackle even were I to use blatant magics. They bore him into a building out of my sight so I apported back to the covenant.
Another emergency council was quickly called and we discussed what we could do to help Terentius. The monks’ decision not to have killed him on the spot suggested some sort of trial was planned, though whether they would summon a magistrate or take him to Chepstow’s dungeons to be held was not knowable. Clearly were he to be moved to Chepstow, that could well happen the next day and would make a rescue attempt much harder.
So it was that I agreed to fly back down to Tintern and see what I could learn about how he was being held and whether we could get him out. I took with me potions to turn a man into a swift and a mouse, as well as a potion imbued with the Leap of Homecoming. With night having fallen, it was easy enough to sneak through the quiet and solemn grounds of the monastery. I saw Meliorax perched atop one of the buildings and peered through its shutters as best I could. Inside I could see two monks, one praying, in a large storeroom, facing a large, bolted trapdoor which was obviously serving as an impromptu prison for Terentius. Unfortunately, it appeared well-made enough that there was insufficient gap for a mouse to slip past. I decided to return to the covenant to report this, but as I made my way back to the wall I noted that the lights were on in the Abbot’s chambers so presumably he lived still.
Back in the covenant, I reported what I had seen. We decided to hold any direct action until we believed Terentius was in imminent danger. We resumed our watch near Tintern and later in the night heard a bell toll out mournfully. The Abbot was dead. There was no sign of any immediate rush to exact vengeance so we held fast.
Our resilient Tremere, on waking, was able to take stock of his surroundings, free himself from his bonds and apport home. There he spoke with Naevius and Pyrrhus, Branwen and I being near Tintern. Terentius said that he had tried to cast another one of his disease spells upon the Abbot to render him too sick to attend upon Monmouth. However, the malign effect of the Dominion twisted his magic and amplified its effect such that the Dominion’s erstwhile faithful servant the Abbot was stricken with a hideous disease. Blood drained from his flesh and poured out of his eyes. His hair turned white and fell out in clumps and he collapsed senseless. There was an immediate cry of “witchcraft” from his brothers! Terentius felt blood streaming from his eyes too as he also slumped to the ground unconscious, only waking in the storeroom cellar bound and hooded.
We had a further meeting once Terentius had rested. There was no sign that the monks had detected his escape for they seemed reluctant to risk being in the same place as him so had not noticed he was gone, though they had sent out a rider with a message. Never one to be deterred by past adversity, and also thinking about how to make a grave situation better, Terentius proposed that he apport back into the cellar and magically create a fake body to make it look like the witch had perished there.
Jari’s private journal
An admirably bold and dauntless fellow our Tremere!
All save Branwen voted in favour of such and so he boldly set off for Tintern once more. As he left he told us not to come after him if he fails again for he would get himself out.
Jari’s private journal
Ok, maybe he’s veering into ‘foolhardy’ territory now.
He was successful in doing so and able to return unharmed. Unfortunately, Terentius was unable to recover the items he was carrying, sensibly deeming it not worth the extra risk of going rooting through the monastery looking for them. Thus have we lost the Light of Myrddyn, the Inquisitor’s Pouch and the Orb of the Mind’s Eye. Useful items all but unlike Terentius, replaceable in time.
Theoclea, who had ventured out to discern the mundane consequences of a ‘warlock’ murdering the Abbot within Tintern, reported back a few days later. It seems that the monks believe the warlock has indeed died but that word has been sent to not just the Archbishop of Hereford, but also the Sheriff and a magistrate. While they’re not looking for anyone else, they still want to know who the man was. She said this would without a doubt make waves across the Dean and beyond, quite likely as far as the King. He however will likely have enough on his plate to pay it too much heed for he will be overwintering in Ireland and might be there until Summer next year. She said that the King will likely expect the Order to investigate.
Posing the question in an obviously wholly hypothetical manner, I wondered whether if we were to retrieve our magical items we could plausibly deny having been involved. Naevius sadly misunderstood my intent and said that we should tell the Quaesitor nothing but the whole truth.
To ensure that news of the attack was not mistaken by our sodales as some action by the UnNamed House, Terentius flew to Blackthorn and left messages explaining things for Gaines, Holy Isle and his primus.
Winter
Winter began in disappointingly mild fashion, the red and yellow leaves on the trees limp with autumnal rain. Echoing this depressing atmosphere, we began with a vote to ratify the decisions made in the non-formal lawful council meetings last season. It shows just how much of a reformed character I am these days, stop rolling your eyes Terentius, that I didn’t seek to change a single retrospective vote!
With nothing much more to discuss about Tintern for now, we debated what was happening with the Old Ones. How many had fallen under Jack’s sway? Did they pose an active threat to us now? At best estimate, they are likely at least of the seventh magnitude in terms of their magical power, at most tenth, though clearly such a range makes a big difference in terms of how hard it may be to create wards against them. The biggest ward we have in the covenant library is of the sixth magnitude.
As previously planned, Pyrrhus will venture to Gloucester to look for any sign of the ‘Broken Mirror’ cult there as well as picking up any general gossip from the city.
A week into the season, Gaines arrived at the covenant and was only slightly delayed by the grogs on the gate. Clearly the captain has clearly been working hard on discipline of late! Gaines gave the council the mundane news that the King has won several victories over assorted local warlords and petty Kings in the North of Hibernia. He has given out a lot of this newly conquered land to his nobles who lost land to the French in the hopes of keeping them happy. Or at least not unhappy enough to think of rebelling. Gaines said that there has been no sign of the UnNamed House of late and Holy Isle apparently believes that they are looking beyond Stonehenge, especially now that their bitter historical enemy, House Flambeau, has its Domus Magnus there.
Gaines also noted that he had read Terentius’ letter about a potential breach of the Primary Code and was happy to stay for a few days to investigate it.
After conducting his enquiries, Gaines said that he would speak with Senior Quaesitor Romanus by the next tribunal before deciding on a possible charge. He said he thought it likely though that Terentius would be charged with a breach of the Primary Code.
Intriguingly, Pyrrhus returned a week before the end of the season having found what he thinks may be signs of some form of cult activity. One of the scholars there, Peter, has been having secret meetings with two others and he was overheard saying” next week with the new moon make sure we arrive early”. Pyrrhus clearly knew more but told me to wait until he could make report to the whole council. He spent the last few days of year cloistered with the scrying mirror, trying to glean more from Peter’s activities for he had been able to get an arcane connection to the man. With luck he may have found us some members of this cult! I’m wholly sick of matters relating to Jack of the Green, and in truth have run out of ideas anyway, so a new challenge would be most welcome.