The Yule Log RPG

[piosenniel]

As wren rested for a moment on the tip of a snowy fir, yet a second noise caught his ear, as if something were following behind the reindeer he pursued. The little bird pushed in among the shadows of the needles and stayed very still. ‘What if it’s that creature?’ he thought to himself. ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ he muttered, shivering a bit. He was alarmed to find that his slight movement had shaken a bit of the snow down from his perch.

He watched with a horrified fascination as the falling flakes trailed down toward the floor of the forest, some of them falling on a cloaked figure below. He held his breath and snapped his eyes shut just in case the fading day’s light would give him away somehow.

Then a certain realization poked at his thoughts and he opened his eyes wide as the figure passed on beneath him. It was a rather smallish figure. Not that the wightish one need be large, but this one seemed fairly unimposing. And it didn’t glide along above the ground as he supposed a wight might do. No . . . there were definitely bootmarks in the snow.

Wren flitted on to another perch in front of the new figure. A low branch, hardly one wing’s span above the pursuer. He peered hard at him . . . No! Her! It was one of the women from the Inn.

His little bird’s brain began to put two and two together . . . or at least one and three. One of those reindeer was Wenda! And this other had gone after her. Now what was that name he’d heard the other two-leggeds call her? ‘Think, you addlepate!’ he chided himself. ‘Mara!’ That was it.

He was now in a quandary. What would a hero do? Should he follow them further to see their destination? What? What? In the end, he decided his little version of hero would need assistance. He knew the general direction the two women and the reindeer were heading. And he would be of no use if they were to be attacked. One cold look from the creature’s eyes, he imagined, and his stiff little body would be found feet up on the snowy ground. In the end he opted to fly back with all the speed he could muster to find Owl.

‘Owl! Owl!’ he cried, a bit surprised to find the old bird nearly to the forest himself. ‘You must turn round and tell the tall men I’ve seen Wenda and two of her deer crashing through the forest and behind them is the other woman following after them it seems . . . Mara.’ He gave Owl a bird’s eye description of where the women were and what direction they were headed. He stomped about on the branch he’d perched on waiting for the other bird to answer, all the while thinking that while Owl sped back with the news, he’d best be back on his way to keep an eye on those females . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Owl fumed and fussed, dismayed that he hadn't been careful enough to keep his presence hidden from Wren. Worse than that, the small bird now seemed determined to follow the reindeer and the woman! For one instant, Owl considered ordering Wren to go back to the Inn, while he continued chsing after the fleeing party. But one look at Wren's perky eye and cheeky demeanor told him this wasn't likely to work. Determined to prove his worth, Wren would sneak back, and no one at the Inn would have the slightest idea what was going on. Owl decided to give in, but not without a getting in a shot or two.

"I don't like this. I don't like it at all, Wren. You shouldn't have left without my permission. And now you've put us in a very hard place. Yes, indeed. Someone should fly back to the Inn.....someone responsible who is articulate and aware of the gravity of the situation, someone who can impress upon the two-leggeds how they must help. Presumably that someone is me. You must follow these silly creatures, and not let them out of your sight. But you had best stay well hidden. No one is to see you, and you are absolutely not to speak with anyone, or it will go very poorly with you when you return to the Inn. Do you understand me?"

Owl drew himself up to his full height and spread out his wings, taking off in the direction of the Inn. It was not long before he saw the outline of the Green Man Free House. Coming into the courtyard, he alit on the window ledge and again banged strenuously on the pane, calling out loudly. "Mori, Stamo, where are you two? We are in grave danger. We need your help. Wren is out in the woods, taking on the whole world by himself. He's managed to find Mara and the deer fleeing northwards some distance from here."

Owl quick reported on where the women were and exactly what direction they were going. "Please come quickly," he pleaded. "You can follow me. Just give me one minute to arouse that rascal Tevildo. I promised to tell him if I found anthing unusual. I don't suppose I could persuade one of you to let him ride on your shoulder? I know that puffball doesn't like to admit this, but he's really a bit small and out of shape. Still, he seems to know a lot about things that go about in the shadows." Owl looked over at the two-leggeds, waiting for a reply.

[littlemanpoet]

Pada, Muna, and Wenda raced deeper into the darkening forest. Wenda smelled fear. She felt the snow and ground beneath her quick hooves. Away, away! Away from the fear! But where were they runnning to? It did not matter. Pada and Muna did not know what Wenda had heard in the stable for two-leggeds. All they knew was that there had been word among them of someone strong, someone akin to ground and snow and tree and thistle, home in the wind and cold. Pada and Muna asked her, What did they say of this someone? A strange and hidden one, this someone, sometimes strong, sometimes not. In winter? In the fear of no-more-running? Strong against fear, weak in winter when all the land is sleeping.

They raced through the ever thickening woods, the dark fir trees closing in around them. But reindeer may pass through the narrowest of ways; all they need is the width of their horns, less if they had no horns. Fleet and silent they moved, their hooves the only sound, passing through thick groves, through quick cold creeks, around ice covered ponds, wending north and up, ever up. The land climbed slowly here, slowly to the feet of the northern mountains.

They paused at twilight. The wind had died. Surely they were far from the fear. The branches of the firs moved around them. They moved again, trotting now, careful of the branches that moved in no wind. They stopped. Eyes. Before and above them. Two of them. Deep green. A long face went with the eyes, and a longer body, with feet that hugged the ground like evergreen roots. It looked at them for a long while. Transfixed, they stared back.

"What have we here?" asked the deep, woody voice. "Three reindeer far from the plains?" It looked closely and carefully at each one of them. "But one of you is more." Its eyes rested on Wenda.

Wenda could not speak to it as a reindeer. She gave off her fur and changed. She was so cold! Now she wished she had not given so to the panic of hte moment, and brought at least a thread of clothing with! She shivered in the cold snow, and folded her arms around her.

"Hmm!" it said. "Like one of our wives."

"Are-" her teeth chattered "-you .... the .... Green Man?"

His eyes seemed to receded into depths of thought. "I do not know of what you speak. What do you fear?"

[Envinyatar]

Stamo appeared to cast his eyes upwards at Owl’s words. Was he sending off some quick plea for strength and assistance? It was hard to tell. But from the quick, sharp look Mori gave him it seemed the tall man’s thoughts might be of a different tenor.

‘Right, then,’ he murmured, fastening his cloak about his shoulders once he’d stood up. He handed Mori’s cloak over, and stood holding their staffs as his companion buckled the clasp and pulled it round about him to his satisfaction.

‘We’ll follow after you, Master Owl,’ Mori said, taking his own staff in hand. Owl perched on his shoulder as they went out into the kitchen’s courtyard. Tevildo was there, keeping watch from his perch on the stone wall.

‘You take the cat!’ Stamo whispered low to Mori. He placed Owl on his own shoulder for the moment and urged his friend forward toward the feline. ‘Makes me sneeze,’ Stamo confided in a hushed tone to Owl. ‘Something fierce! Wouldn’t want that now, would we as we’re trying to go quietly after the two ladies . . . and the creature?’

[littlemanpoet]

It is not far now. There is an entire dwelling where she has gone. My appetite is increasing again. You have become quite akin to cartilage, my dear former village chieftain. Most tasty of all the souls, what with your courage mixed with all that delectable fear. Quite nice.

Not as nice as the veritable banquets of ages agone when My Lord still sat the Throne. Those were the days. Did I tell you I was his chief chef? I did? Well, I never tire of telling my quarries about it. Those were indeed the days. Have you ever tasted an Elven Fëa? Nothing like it. Oh, and the recipes I created. My Lord rewarded me well. Basting, roasting, broiling, filleting of fëar, so many different ways to prepare them for My Lord's table. Spices of all kinds: threats, false promises, stories of rapacious deeds done to kindred. I became fat upon the rich fare. And My Lord was most appreciative of even of the refuse from my dishes. There were orcs from the Elves and trolls from the Ents. Dwarven and Human refuse did not seem to keep well enough. The former hardened to naught but blasted stone while the latter shriveled and fell to ruin, their fëar slipping away to we knew not where. Just as yours is sure to do. And that is what makes me so famished! I need something more lasting. That is why I seek her. She is double-fëa. They are rare.

But lo! She runs away from the dwelling. Then we must turn aside, you and me. Do not look at me that way. I know it seems painful now, but you will fade away to nothing and then be free of pain forevermore. Some of my kind say that you will go beyond the walls of the world, but I do not think so. There is not enough to you.

See you the small sparks of fëar in the trees and slipping along the ground, thinking they are hidden from me? Silly little scraps of nothing. Too small to be more than a mere after dinner sprig of mint. They hide as if I seek such drivel. Silly.

But ah! There is somewhat other at that dwelling! How did I not see it before. And two of them! And now they seem to be moving in the same direction as the double fëa! I do believe that I know them! Strong fëar, these! Indeed, I do believe that they may be just the answer for my famished appetite. You are a mere bone the marrow of which has been sucked dry. I need you no longer. I have new quarry - most delicious! - to hunt down. Oh, the delightful recipes I can try! The spices to be used! What means would work best for their preparation? Basting? What stories do I know? What despair can I set into their minds? We shall see, we shall see!

[Tevildo]

Tevildo did not want to be left out of the adventure and reluctantly agreed to have the men carry him wherever they were going. Still, he had not been pleased that he would be toted along like a piece of spare baggage. Even after Mori picked him up, Tevido had trouble finding a comfortable place to perch. He had tried sitting on one shoulder and then the other, but the tall man had objected when Tevildo's claws had extended down into the thick folds of his robe scratching the soft skin underneath. Mori had finally agreed that the best thing Tevildo could do was to crawl inside his large pouch and stick his head up, peering over the edge.

The ride was uncomfortable and bumpy. The men paid the cat little attention as they strode briskly towards the north. Once or twice, Tevildo had started a bit of mild caterwauling, objecting to the fact that the men were not showing him adequate care or respect. Mori and Stamo were apparently oblivious to his discomfort, and, despite his pleas, all he’d gotten in return had been a stern glance and an admonition to be quiet. Miserable and bored, he’d finally fallen asleep in the pack.

Dreams claimed Tevildo quickly…..deep, disturbing dreams of the ugly creature who had so terrified him long ages before. First, he was doing the hunting, tracking down the miserable creature and his minions but too quickly the tables turned, and he had become the hunted. Deep shadows reached out to grab him, threatening to pull him apart from ear to tail and leave him limp and lifeless. With great effort, the cat pulled himself up to consciousness and slowly pried open one eye, grateful that he was intact and breathing and alive.

The thing must be gone. Tevildo purred in relief, kneading his claws into Mori’s back out of the sheer joy of being alive. But then he waited and listened. At the far edge of his awareness, in the mysterious recesses of the mind that warn a hunter what creatures are up and about, Tevildo again felt the heavy presence. Only it did not seem to be directed at him, but rather at the tall two-leggeds. Strangest of all, the thing was in back of them and, though distant, seemed to be getting closer.

Tevildo’s fur stood completely on end. He leapt out of the pouch and bounded upward, this time landing on Mori’s head, unsheathing his claws and hanging on as tightly as he could, while shouting out a warning. “You, fools, Mori and Stamo. Do something. This thing is following us…..maybe one, maybe two. I do not know what it is. But it is dark and heavy, and it seems particularly interested in the two of you.”

[littlemanpoet]

Wenda drew Pada and Muna close to her sides and hugged them, then proceeded to tell the Ent, as he called himself, of her fear. With many a hoom and hom and haroom and even a harumph, he listened to her whole tale, with a few sprinkled in encouragements not to be hasty despite her chattering teeth. Finally she finished.

"Hoom! Hom! One thing I would like to ask you, Wenda skin changer."

"What is that?" she stuttered.

"Does your kind turn blue? I have never seen it before."

"O-only when we are too cold."

"Hoom! Then maybe it is time for haste. Hm yes! I think you should return to your other shape."

"But th-then I won't-t b-be ab-ble t-to t-talk-k!"

"Hoom now. Nor will you for long in the shape you wear!"

Wenda saw the sense of the Ent's words, and turned to her two friends. It always helped to think of them when she turned.

"Mm-hm!" nodded the Ent. "You will live. Now, I must spend some time thinking about what to do." The Ent lifted his eyes and looked over the heads of the three reindeers. "There is someone coming. No, do not fear! Oh no, room hoomty room toom! I think this is not the shadow you fear. Oh no, room toom. Let us wait and see who comes."

Wenda, Pada, and Muna turned and looked the in the direction the Ent was calmly looking. Coming between the firs was a hooded figure, dressed warm against the cold, whose breath came as if having used much strength to move as quickly as able. Wenda knew the shape of the figure. It was Mara. Wenda trotted forward to greet her.