Ciaran Mac Rory PAX BRITANNIA Part II Prydain (Britain) 45 A.D. .......... The men of Prasutagus' court are friendly enough, and interested in your native land...and you note, more than one asks if the Romans have come there yet. Your lack of fluency doesn't seem to be a major obstacle yet, and not with the women either....a couple watch you with interest, though perhaps simply because you are a mysterious stranger from Eiriu. Tanethlon, of course, gets far more attention, and while seated for the meal, tells one interesting story after another, interspersing each with anecdotes that amuse or provoke thoughtfulness. He has a hundred stories at the tip of his tongue, and soon has half the hall as an audience. The hero's portion goes to a grizzled veteran warrior who looks a little past his prime, truth be told...probably there are others here who could best him in combat now, so the fact that no one contests his right to claim the hero's portion must be a token of respect. When Tanethlon finally gets up to address the assembly, everyone listens with respect to his tales, and his reports from around Britannia. You are listening intently, trying to catch the elder immortal's turns of phrase in this still-new language, when the warrior next to you nudges you with his elbow. When you look over to him, he nods his head towards the front of the room. Boudica, still sitting on her throne next to Prasutagus, is looking directly at you. She points at you, then beckons with her finger. Her husband is watching Tanethlon, and doesn't seem to notice, though of course her summons is in plain view of everyone. <><><><><> The Eiru Celt answered the questions and told the Prydain warriors that the Romans have not arrived, though his people were aware that they existed as he was sure that the Romans knew that Eiru existed as well. He listened to Tanethelon, but the younger Celt studied the way he spoke more than the actual words. The art of the Bard fascinated him. Ciaran had stories to tell, but he wanted to learn and hone the technique and this was a grand opportunity. The Queen's attention was not expected at this point. He had played at eye contact with her earlier, before tanethelon took up the center of the Hall. Now this struck him as odd. It placed him a difficult position. One could hardly refuse a Queen's request within her own hall, and he certainly didn't wish to read too much into her gesturing summons, but he wasn't inclined to offer offense to the King and his host either. Ciaran smiled and looked to tanethelon again before standing and withdrawing from his table. He bowed his head to keep from blocking those who wished to watch the Bard perform his craft. He walked along the wall of the Dun around to where the Queen was seated and he stopped withing three paces. Three paces being customary when called to attend a Royal in their own hall. He looked into her eyes but did not say a word. He waited for her to address him. <><><><><> [GM] Boudica studies you briefly, then leans forward, to put her face closer to yours. She speaks in a low voice that doesn't carry far. Prasutagus looks over at his wife with a slight frown, but it seems more irritation at being distracted from Tanethlon's speech than from possible jealousy or suspicion. "I trust you are satisfied with our hospitality?" Without waiting for a reply, she goes on; "You and your friend are quite the pair. His speech is rousing and crafty at the same time, and you have been doing a lot of staring." She meets your gaze levelly, making you feel slightly uncomfortable when you wait for her to continue, and then realize she's not going to. <><><><><> Ciaran feels the flush, and sets his mind to speak to her directly. At least if he was carrying conversation, then he might keep his cool a bit better in her presence. "Were I a more darin' and capricious man," he said in a light whisper, very slowly after a long moment. It took him that long to ensure his words were accurate and phrased properly. "Then this moment would not go wasted my lady... but staring all I can do is and if it caused has offense... I certainly meant none. Forgive my insolence. I study and learn. I watch and I seek out things of interest. These things captivate do my attention." "But to lighter things. Your hospitality been has beyond measure or compare and not the like seen have I in a great while. You honor do to those who travel your lands, and the word of such met us while we travelled. We were not disappointed." <><><><><> [GM] Boudica smiles with wry amusement. "Were you a more daring and capricious man, you would be in a great deal of trouble, if you are implying what I think." She rests her elbows on her knees, and continues. "Your handsome face, and whether or not you find mine comely, is not why I called you to me. I am interested in what you and your friend really seek here." "Now, be civil, wife," Prasutagus says, finally listening in on the conversation. "I am civil, husband," Boudica replies. She arches an eyebrow at him, and then at you. "I am also wary. The arrival of these two so soon before the Roman delegation arrives, strikes me as more than coincidence. Call it my woman's intuition." <><><><><> He merely smiled at her compliment, and didn't lend voice to his personal opinions about her comeliness. He simply smiled and held fast their locked eye contact. "Your intuition marks you as a wise woman indeed," the Eiru Celt says with a smile. "The Romans indeed. We come from the Celtic lands not yet met by their hand. We come to see them. To watch them. To learn from them. I have come... to stop them." He spoke those words, mainly to be heard. But the time had come to express those things more openly. There were many truths and this was only a part. A part that they would understand. Would they accept? That remained to be seen. But, it wouldn't serve Tanethelon or himself or any of the others who had come to hear Synhyfar's words, if they kept a subterfuge going unecessarily. The wom,an was too smart and if he played with that, it would become a weapon against him. He learned those lessons all too well. <><><><><> [GM] Prasutagus grunts, sounding displeased. His expression narrows. Boudica leans back in her throne and regards you skeptically. All the warriors around you are now paying more attention to you than to Tanethlon, and the bard pauses, realizing something is going on. "*You*...have come....to stop them," the queen repeats, slowly. "And how do you plan to do that?" she asks. "Are you a great Sidhe warrior with supernatural powers, sufficient to strike down armies?" Her tone is not mocking, but neither does she seem worried about your response. A few men laugh at this, but others stare at you with sudden wariness, as if taking the possibility seriously. "Or do you mean you are hoping to find an army capable of stopping the Romans?" she continues, ignoring the others. "If so, why do you come here, when you must know that the Iceni have signed a treaty with them?" <><><><><> "A Sidhe warrior... hardly," he responded with a chuckle. He kept his eyes on the Queen. He had spoken in the Halls of Kings before and he had held a position of respect among warriors of a great host. "At least, not to my knowledge... And to such a heritage claim would be in bad form on my part. I am descended of the Milesian Celts, and born to the Clan na Morna." He shifted slightly and looked about the room, to see how many watched him now. To see what Tanethelon's expression was considering his recent outspoken behaviour. "I have heard that the Iceni and many others have made a peace with the foreign invaders. So that makes this the perfect place to see the Great Eastern Army from Rome. As I have said, We have come to learn and watch. There armies already are to the North and West. As for me..." His smiled broadened wolfishly. He was genuinely enjoying the exchange with the Queen of the Iceni. "One man to face an Army... Would take the Courage of Arawn and the skill of Cuculhain to acomplish a feat such as that. I make no such claims. What I hope to learn here will help me in the future. A future that will see the Romans advance no further." <><><><><> [GM] Most of the room has fallen silent now. Tanethlon is watching you with an unreadable expression, so you can't tell whether he approves of the "confrontation" or not. Boudica says, "I see. Well, stopping them is a nice thought." There's definitely a touch of wry irony there. "But if you want to learn about them- by which I assume you mean learn about how they conduct war, how they deal with their enemies," she continues, "wouldn't you learn more by going to the west, where some tribes are still fighting them?" She waves her hand around the hall. "Here we have peace." The irony wasn't as pronounced that time, but you do hear a few dry chuckles from the assembly, bitter laughter that substitutes for anything harsher they might wish to say. <><><><><> "The word, it sticks in your throat," he said in as dry a tone as Boudica had spoken. "Peace... Is that what you call this?" There was a pause, and Ciaran fixed his eyes on the Queen. "It is how the Romans deal with those it _thinks_ it no longer fears that interests me the most. For in those people and that relation I will find the most valuable information. I know how they fight Queen. I want to see how the rule. The heart of the Celts may be beaten but never broken." <><><><><> [GM] The queen frowns slightly. "I see." "Well, tomorrow the Roman Consul, Aulus Plautius, is arriving to pay us his respects." Still struggling with the language, you aren't sure if that last word was said with sarcasm or not. "So you may well get a glimpse of how the Romans rule." Prasutagus scowls. "And what we *don't* need, is outsiders coming here to stir up trouble. I will have no intrigue in my court...." "King Prasutagus, we are not intriguers," Tanethlon speaks up, stepping forward to address the royal couple smoothly. "Merely observers. My young friend is a warrior, and rash, and perhaps his words did not come out quite right, as he is still learning our tongue. In Eiru as here, no one would dream of breaking the peace in the King's Hall, nor of insulting one's host by giving offense to his other guests. I assure you, Ciaran and I will not even be noticed by the Romans...the last thing we wish to do is draw attention to ourselves." "Indeed," Prasutagus says, after a long pause. "Well, see that you do not." Tanethlon begins playing a tune, a lively one, which comes as a jarring nonsequiter to previous conversation, but he plays so skillfully that he soon has other folks tapping their feet in time, and the mood begins to lighten again. Boudica gives you a slight nod, indicating you are dismissed. <><><><><> He nods in acknowledgement and bows to take his leave of her immediate presence. The soft smile never fades. Ciaran knew full well that tanethelon would have strong words with him, but Ciaran also knew that the object of the journey to the conquered part of Prydain was to create the seeds of rebellion. Ciaran had no intention of lying to the woman. He didn't tell the whole of the truth, for it wasn't necessary to do so. But the Queen wanted an answer of him as to their purpose. He would look Tanethelon in the eyes and stand his ground on his actions. He returned to his seat as focused his attention on the Bard. <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon continues entertaining the court for several hours, before finally retiring to a seat near you. "You're bloody impatient, lad," he says. "I suppose you got the point across, but there *are* subtler ways to do it." He sighs and wets his throat, after all that singing and storytelling. Despite his mild chiding, he doesn't seem truly upset at you. "Ah well, we did come at a fortuitous time. Mind you, we WILL be staying inobtrusive when the Romans arrive tomorrow. Don't even think of risking any kind of a confrontation." <><><><><> "As you wish... unobtrusive. I won't start anything." He drank from his leather tankard and wiped the froth from his mustache. Setting the mug down, he spoke in soft tones again. "She wanted an answer... I gave her one... Now they can go into this meeting with the thoughts in their mind... You knew that I was going to do something of this sort anyway." <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon smiles. "Oh, the thoughts were already in their minds. Make no mistake, the king and queen of the Iceni have no love for the Romans. Though the Romans did actually come at a fortuitous time for them, since their rivals to the south, the Catuvellauni, were the first to be crushed by the invaders." He shrugs. "But you're right, you felt them out, and planted a seed or two, perhaps. Now we shall take advantage of this opportunity to see the Roman overlord up close....relatively speaking." He yawns. "Now, I am a bit tired, so I'll be retirning. If you decide to seek companionship," he winks and gestures towards one of the serving wenches who has been extremely diligent in refilling your cup the entire evening, "do remember I'll want to be up at dawn, and with you at your most observant." <><><><><> He lifts the tankard and smiles to the man. He hadn't really payed much attention to the wench, but now that Tanethelon had mentioned it, she was a comely lass and she had favored him with some attention. Years come and go and while the memory of caitlin never faded and his love for her never dimmed, he knew he had to go on with his life. He met her eyes draw her to him. He quaffed his drink to make certain there was good cause for her to make her way to him again. With the grace of Danu and a bit of charm, he might not sleep alone this evening. He offered a warm smile and made a quick adjustment to straighten his tunic. "Lass, I think I not have had... I have not had the pleasure of hearing your name. I am Ciaran... of Eiru across the sea to the west." <><><><><> [GM] The grace of Danu, a bit of charm, and a few stories about Eiru to impress a young lass who's never been out of sight of the hill on which the king's dun sits, and you get some company for the night, which you haven't had since you and Scathach parted ways. You wouldn't have minded a few more hours of sleep, when you wake up before dawn, but you certainly don't want Tanethlon to come looking for you. So you go outside, wander back towards the traveler's hostel, and then follow the Quickening to where the older immortal waits, seated on the hillside facing south, from whence the Romans will come. "Morning, Ciaran," he says. "Pleasant night?" He suppresses a yawn. Then he begins speaking about the Romans again. "Aulus Plautius, the governor, would be the man in charge of all the legions. He takes his orders from the Emperor, back in Rome, but he is in effect the supreme leader of the Romans in Prydain. He's the one who approves treaties with the tribes, decides when to negotiate and when to invade, where roads will be built, what lands will be claimed for use by Roman settlers, and so forth. The nature of Roman rule depends very much on what sort of a man he is." "Depending on his character, we may be able to find out in what way he could be manipulated. Is he motivated by pride, greed, honor- yes, there are Romans with honor, though their code of honor is not the same as ours- or cruelty, political ambition....any number of things." <><><><><> He walked along the path, whistling a tune and enjoying the early morning air. It was still dark, but dawn was just a short time away. "Aye Tanethelon, well enough and a good time at that," he answered in the Eire tongue. He listened attentively to the elder immortal speak. "Aulus Plautius. The king's... no, Emperor's man in Prydain. Such the political maven you are. I do not know if I would know what to look for to know if a man is subject to any of these weaknesses. I have much to learn, and many years to try and survive. Very well, we listen and study the man in these meetings. I am less an expert on these machinations then I am with the language of the Prydain. I will follow your lead." He paused for a while to watch the very barest hint of orange tinge the eastern sky and break the darkness. "When do they arrive and what do we do if there is an immortal among them?" <><><><><> [GM] "Boudica only said they would arrive today. If he's coming all the way from Camulodunum, it depends whether he set off yesterday and his cohort is camped on the road now, or if he is only leaving now, in which case he won't arrive until evening." Tanethlon fingers his spear. "Well....we know there are immortals among them. Probably not unlikely at that, that one could be accompanying Aulus Plautius." "If that's the case, we'll have to wait and see, determine where that immortal stands in the Roman heirarchy, before we know whether it suits our purpose to take his head." <><><><><> *Take his head...* Considering what he knew and had been taught of the Romans it was likely that any immortal among the Romans would be a male. Ciaran nodded in silent agreement. They were here to meet these Romans among other things. He didn't really fancy taking anyone's head, but he wasn't about to offer his up either. "Then we shall wait. I think I will take up some time in the bailey and practice my blade and gae bulga for a time.... unless you require something of me?" <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon thinks, then shakes his head. "No, I suppose not. But come quickly when you hear the Romans are arriving. I'll be waiting here to watch for their approach." <><><><><> Ciaran nods and offers a slight smile. "I would not miss it." He then slips away towards the Dun to see if he could find a knight or two willing to workout in the early morning. Perhaps they, like him, wanted to lessen the tension some. <><><><><> [GM] You find a small group of Iceni knights already practicing in the bailey. They react cooly at first to your request to join them, but after a few rounds sparring with the man designated to test the stranger's mettle, your weapon skills impress them enough that they warm up a bit. "Hell of a sword-arm," one of the knights, named Cartanus, says. "You and the bard must do a lot of interesting traveling...." "Aye....and this is the one who told the queen last night he wants to stop the Romans," another man, Netain, says. "So how about it, foreigner? Why's it you're so determined to fight the Romans, and how do you figure on stopping them?" <><><><><> The exercise did him a world of good. Relaxing him and spending the nervous energy that had been building in anticipation of this upcoming meeting with the Romans. "I will see them stopped," he said quietly at first. he then warmed to them a bit more. He offered a genuine smile shared with comrades in arms. "But I not am a braggart, simply stated.... They not will cross the sea to my home. I will do everything and anything. I have come to see what kind of people they are. See how they fight to.... no, To see how they fight and maybe... just maybe... show them what to expect if they cross the sea." He laughed. "But I am just one man... What can I hope to do against these legions?" There was a twinkle in his eyes that spoke all things he left unsaid. <><><><><> [GM] "I see where you're going with this," Cartanus says, with a slight frown. "But the Iceni aren't about to rise up against the conquerors. We may be proud, but we're not foolish. The Romans have won every single battle since they landed on these shores. It will take more than pride and determination to drive them away." "Though there's some in the north and east would rather die than submit," Netain adds. You can't tell if he says this with approval or scorn. A boy, a warrior in training, comes running into the practice yard and says breathlessly "The Romans are coming!" <><><><><> He smiles. The man was quick on the uptake, and saw some of the hidden meaning in Ciaran's words and the hints that the Iceni as Celts had some fight left in them. The seeds were being planted wherever he went. At the cry of the approaching Romans, Ciaran nods to Cartanus and Netain. "I must rejoin the Bard. He is expecting me. The arrival of the Romans something is he wanted me to see. We can talk more on this later, if you wish?" Ciaran gathers his belongings and weapons and leaves the bailey of the dun to return to Tanethelon. <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon is still where you left him, but now a number of others have joined him. He looks up when he senses your approach, but you see down the road the cause of all the excitement. The Romans are arriving in full dress, about one hundred armored soldiers marching with the military precision for which they are known and feared. They're putting on a parade of sorts for their Iceni hosts. The warriors who gather to watch are both impressed and disdainful, but some of the younger boys can't help but be awed by the spectacle of glittering troops, with identical arms, all of which would cost a Celtic warrior a fortune to acquire (unless scavenged off the battlefield), stomping down the road as a single beast with two hundred legs. "They do know how to impress the locals," Tanethlon observes dryly. He points at one man, riding in the lead on a fine white horse and wearing only light, token armor, with a red cloaked draped over his shoulders. Other mounted Romans, dressed in fancier armor than that of the footsoldiers behind them, ride on either side of him, and follow in two columns behind. "That would be the governor," Tanethlon says. "With his command staff." "This isn't a large force...just a fraction of a cohort. The Iceni could wipe it out easily if they were so inclined. The fact that Aulus Plautius is traveling with such a relatively small escort is a double message. It says he trusts his hosts, but it also says he knows he doesn't *need* a heavier presence." <><><><><> "Arrogant bastards," he said with a chuckle. But he too was impressed by the display. The fact that the celts would do nothing was almost guaranteed. It saddened him. Freedom was the most presious thing that ny celt could hope to have. The Celts kept slaves of those who were captured in battles, and it was always a reminder to those who were freemen... they could lose their freedom at any time. Today was such a moment. Ciaran watched the Romans advance. One body and two hundred legs. Shining, unstoppable, and very deadly. He watched the lead man. The Governor. The man who held the future of Prydain in his hands. There would be immortals with him and he waited for the Quickening. <><><><><> [GM] It seems to surprise Tanethlon more than you when it comes. Yes, there is indeed an immortal (or at least one) in the Roman procession. As they are marching lengthwise past the small hill on which you're standing, you can't mark the precise point at which a particular rank came within range, and thus where the immortal is positioned. So you search the helmeted heads for signs of reaction, as the Roman immortal must sense you and Tanethlon also. Of course, if the immortal is among the rank-and-file soldiers, then discipline will probably keep him from turning his head to look about. Tanethlon nudges you and murmurs "In the front...the second man behind the Governor. Don't stare, now we know who he is and he doesn't know who we are yet, let's keep it that way as long as we can." The mounted Roman officer Tanethlon indicated is indeed looking around, his eyes sweeping the hillside. He makes eye contact with you for just a moment, and then his gaze travels on. Beneath his armor and helmet, you can't make out much to discern him from his companions, aside from the fact that he appears to be a rather large and heavily-built man. <><><><><> The celt holds his gaze steady and still. He does his best to observe without looking obvious. A crafty immortal might play a ruse, and get another to look about, even if they had no idea why they were doing it, and watch to see who looked at that individual. Games within games. When one learned from the Morrigan and Scathach, one had to be prepared to expect anything. There might be others, and so he kept his position and waited and watched them as a whole. But he kept his thoughts on the immortal. Big and likely very strong. Best to keep out of the reach of someone like that. While Ciaran was hardly weak, he wasn't the strongest man he had ever known. He chuckled. *Nay... Caoilte was that f'n anyone was the stongest ox alive.... no... It had too been many years now...* Caoilte was more than 30 summers when Ciaran was a lad in the Red Branch Knights. He sighed, and promised himself that he would return to Ulaid soon. To see his home. To visit Emain Macha and walk around all the places he had once known. Then again, maybe not yet. Perhaps more time was needed. <><><><><> [GM] The Romans march on, until they are arraying themselves before the king's dun. Prasutagus and Boudica emerge to greet Aulus Plautius, and he and his senior officers, including the apparent immortal, proceed back into the king's hall. Tanethlon says "I don't think I sensed more than one in the group, but let's circle the troops, casually, to be sure. Then I will look for opportunities to chat with legionnaires who seem willing to talk to the locals, while you keep making friends with those locals. I think for now, we should stay a comfortable distance away, rather than putting ourselves into a situation where there may be a direct confrontation before we've taken the measure of Aulus and his immortal bodyguard." <><><><><> "Aye," he says with a casual nod. "The bruighaid house." (brewey= tavern) He shifts his broadsword on his back to adjust the strap and moves among the Icenians who wouldn't be admitted to the hall. He smiles and pats a few shoulders and listens to a few words spoken. Trying to hear what the general reaction seems to be thus far, and then make a few comments to those who take notice of him. Reaching the tavern with a few Icenians, looking to join a larger number already there, Ciaran felt that this would be the best place to hear from people in an unguarded manner. The Romans would not be so arrogant just yet to come marching in here. Not while there governor was in chamber with the Icenian King and Queen. <><><><><> [GM] The general reaction among the Iceni is grudging respect, tinged with fear. No one wants the Romans here, and the Romans know it, but the tribe seems to have accepted that the Romans aren't leaving, and for now, there's nothing to be done about it. A few hotheads, mouths emboldened by drink, try to stir the tavern crowd and advocate raising a mob to cut down the Roman "legionnaires" and hang the governor's head above the door. Wiser men shout them down scornfully. "One victory is easy," says an older man. "Then while we're jeering at the governor's head, his replacement will come marching down the road with twenty times the number of soldiers that came to visit us today." "A mob of rabbits could drag down a single wolf," someone else says. "But what happens when the wolf pack comes to avenge their comrade?" "Are we rabbits, then?" a young warrior demands. And someone else says rather inanely "Who ever heard of wolves taking vengeance?" "Who ever heard of rabbits attacking wolves?" People are rolling their eyes as the conversation gets increasingly silly. A bruighaid may not always be the best place to find local wisdom..... <><><><><> He kept quiet and let them squabble and release their tensions. It wouldn't be wise to stir a fight up just yet. He knew he could say the words to bring them to arms, but the wisdom in picking a battle to win a war should prevail here. Today was not the day. This was not the Icenian's call to arms. He entertained himself quietly in the corner, watching the locals grow increasingly inane and drunk. He toyed with the idea that a few Romans might just decide to come looking for trouble. They just might try to pick a fight. They just might come with a few friends. Then Ciaran considered whether or not this was just fanciful and wishful on his part. Maybe being here wasn't such a good idea. He finished off his mug and rose to leave. There might be a better words to be heard from the men he had shared the bailey with this morning. At least they might be more rational. He set the mug down and turned to exit the bruighaid. <><><><><> [GM] No Romans intrude on the drinking hall, and you aren't able to find your friends from this morning. They may well be attending their king in his hall. You circulate around the area, finding lesser-ranking warriors, peasants, a few slaves, who are going about their business as usual, despite the Roman visit. You pick up more gossip and rumors and innuendo, enough to know that what you heard in the bruighaid is typical....the Iceni don't really like the Romans, but if the cauldron is simmering, it's a very slow simmer, and it would take a great provocation, or a less temperate (and accomodating) man than King Prasutagus, to bring it to a boil. If your fluency with the language was greater, you'd probably be able to pick up more useful information, catch references and names and subtle nuances that you're missing now. But you keep strolling around the royal demesnes, hoping to pick up something worthwhile to tell Tanethlon that he won't already know. Eventually, you see a file of Iceni knights streaming out of the dun, followed by the Roman leader, and his officers. You're non-plussed to see that the man you and Tanethlon took to be the immortal is no longer with the governor's party, however, and you don't sense the Quickening. <><><><><> As casually as he can manage, Ciaran proceeds in his travels. He tries to blend in with the locals and still keep his eyes open. He focuses his mind on the Quickening and his other sense. Tanethelon is out there somewhere. The Roman is around. Ciaran turns to find a local and quickly. A sickening feeling grips him. His own intuition on the matter. But where he might find one, the other would be near. "Tell kind sir to me," he asked of an elder. "The bard named Tanethelon. The other foreignor, that I had been travelling with... Do you know where I might find him... where he might have headed?" <><><><><> [GM] "Ah, I believe I saw him leave by the side doorway from the king's hall, just before the court dispersed. I suppose he probably visited the dung trench." The old man chuckles. You see the rest of the Romans filing out, but still no sign of the big immortal, nor any Quickening indicating that he is near. <><><><><> "Dammit," he hissed in his own language. He stepped up his pace and cut across the open court towards the dun. Then he made his way around to the side. Anywhere and at any time the Roman Immortal could step out. He kept himself alert and ready. Once around to that side, he searched the area for any likely places that an immortal or two might choose to fight a duel. he wasn't pleased that tanethelon purposely set him on a plan that allowed him to make a challenge. *Fool man... If'n you lose yer head....* The Celt let the thought drop off as he set off to find his companion. He searched the ground and grasses for any sign either immortal. If not then he had to let his instincts guide him. Time was short and he feared that Tanethelon may not be good enough. The man that he was coming to think of as a friend was ancient compared to him and could probably handle himself quite well in a battle, but still he worried. <><><><><> [GM] You get all the way around the dun before you feel the Quickening. You follow it through some tall grass into a small clearing, probably used as an informal gathering place, within sight of the tall palisade surrounding the dun. Now, the clearing is empty but for Tanethlon, and the other immortal. They appear to be just talking, and neither has a weapon drawn. Neither looks very friendly either, though. They both look up at your approach. Tanethlon watches you impassively, while the Roman officer, in his gleaming breastplate sculpted to look like a man's bare chest, and ornate feathered helm, watches your approach with a frankly appraising stare. The closer you get, the more you realize how big and broad of shoulder this fellow is....he gives the impression of enormous size, though he's really no taller than you. You definitely would not like to meet him in close quarters, though. <><><><><> He was suddenly not quite certain of the situation at hand and he felt that it would be best if he played it for all the information that he could. He chose a tact that gave Tanethelon the greatest latitude. He was careful not to make any movement that would show him nearing a weapon's reach or an attacking stance. He let a smile play on his lips and there wqas a soft tune in the back of his mind. The game had begun. "I only expected one. Here I find two," he said in his own tongue. He then translated it as best he could into Prydani. He looked at them both in turn. "I not do speak Roman.... Latin... but for a few words..." "My name is Ciaran McRory of Ulaid... Clan na Morna." <><><><><> [GM] The Roman sneers at your attempt to pronounce Latin words. Tanethlon says mildly, "That's all right, he doesn't speak any Celtic tongue either." "Ciaran Mac Rory, this is Achilleus Romulus, Centurion of the First Cohort of the XXth Legion, 'Valerius'." <><><><><> The large man was certainly impressive in stature. And every bit as arrogant as Ciaran had suspected he would be. That might be important later on. Ciaran smiles at him and extends a hand in a traditional wrist lock embrace. He knew the man would not accept it, but the offer had been made. The refusal would be on his head to account for. Not that the Roman understood or even cared about honor and respect. "Translate," he said to Tanethelon. "I have only come to bear witness, and I seek no one's head. I find it an honor to meet you Centurion Achilleus Romulus, of the First Cohort." <><><><><> [GM] Achilleus does take your hand, but briefly, breaking contact before it is considered respectful in your culture. He listens to Tanethlon's translation, smiles, and replies. Tanethlon hesitates, then translates back: "He says, that is fine, as long as you stay in your place with the rest of your barbarian race, he won't need to take yours." "He wants to provoke us," the elder immortal adds, unnecessarily. "This man is a hunter." He keeps a polite smile on his face and keeps watching the Roman while he speaks. "I think he's telling the truth when he says he doesn't understand our language, but watch what you say in front of him, nonetheless." <><><><><> "I will be careful," he replied to Tanethelon. "You need not worry on that count." Ciaran withdrew his hand. The fact that the Roman accepted it surprised him, but then the insincerity in the gesture showed him that the man was purposely provocative. "Translate. I will keep my distance and afford you all the respect you deserve and earn." Ciaran smiled slightly and made a slight bowing gesture and stepped back a pace. Let the Roman have his way, let him have space for himself and his ego. If he wanted a fight, he would have to find a better way to get it from Ciaran. Ciaran looked at Tanethelon for a few moments. He spoke in the Eire tongue. "I came here to make sure that you were not about to do something irrevocable and against our understood agenda," he chided. "And I was worried. But I can see you have things well under control here. Please continue." <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon and Achilleus continue to converse in Latin for a few minutes. Tanethlon remains smooth, polite and unperturbable, while the Roman continues speaking in a snide, boastful tone that leaves you no doubt he is being less than friendly. Eventually Achilleus steps away, and offers the two of you a mocking parody of a Roman farewell gesture, before turning about to stride back towards the dun, to rejoin his comrades. "He's a rough customer, and we'll be dealing with him again, someday," Tanethlon says. "Maybe soon." "Yes, I knew there was a chance he might be luring me out here just to provoke a duel, despite the obvious inconvenience such a thing would cause him, far more than me. I deemed it an acceptable risk, to get a chance to talk to a Roman immortal and learn what I might from him." "For his part, he was merely feeling me out....and you, when you arrived. He didn't challenge me immediately, both because a Quickening right here with his governor only a short dash away would risk exposing him, and because he's canny enough not to immediately leap into combat with an immortal about whom he knows nothing yet. But I have no doubt, should he encounter one of us under circumstances more conducive to a duel, someone will have to lose their head." <><><><><> He watched after the Roman as he departed and looked that way again as Tanethelon spoke to him. He looked to the ground where the Roman had walked. The man was big, and strong. He was probably very fast, but was he agile? It would take some watching. Watching without being seen. "I was not here long enough to get an opinion of him, other than I do not like him. You are correct, someone's head will fall. I believe he is sure he can take _either_ of us... maybe both. What do you think? Can you take him?" <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon sniffs. "I don't know, haven't seen him fight. He's strong, that's for sure, but while he seems to be experienced, he hasn't outgrown his arrogance. I suspect he hasn't ever met someone who seriously outmatched him." "That cognomen of his, 'Romulus', is the name of the legendary founder of Rome, who I've heard was an immortal. If Achilleus was actually taught by Romulus, he'd have to be at least several centuries old. But it might well just be an affectation. I was not able to learn whether he's the one who took Gwyn the Fleet's head last year." Tanethlon smiles. "I know I don't carry myself as a warrior, like you do, Ciaran, but don't worry, I haven't survived this long just by being able to spin a yarn." <><><><><> Ciaran smiled. "Good enough Tanethelon. I will stop worrying... but you should remember that it was you who said we should keep a distance, and yet you went right around to speak with him, after sending me looking for... nothing." He motioned for his friend to proceed him on the way back. "I will will begin keeping an eye on him," he said in low tones. "I learned a few things from Scathach... We'll see how well I learned them. What of your plans?" <><><><><> [GM] "True enough," Tanethlon says calmly. "But one must always be prepared to modify one's plans, when opportunity arises." He shrugs. "I didn't deliberately send you on a wild goose chase, lad." "For now, I think we wait around and see what the outcome of this visit is. It'd be especially useful to see where the Romans are heading next...." <><><><><> "Well enough," he said with a chuckle. "WE wait around and watch and learn. It might be nice to try and learn what it is that the Romans vew as important objectives in their travels here. A glimpse at their master plans." When they returned to the village and settled themselves, Ciaran began to scout the area a bit and study the terrain of the place. He didn't wander far from where he could hear voices that spoke in a language he had a chance of understanding. This was merely a scouting effort. In the evening he planned to slip out and camouflage himself and approach the Roman encampment from a nearby ridge and watch them. Close enough, but not in the camp. He wanted to see them and how they conducted the general day to day things while on the road. He wanted to see them interacting with each other. He wanted to see them practice. And he wanted to see the Immortal. To see what he did when he wasn't marching around or acting like an ass. <><><><><> [GM] Aulus Plautius walks around the village, giving it a cursory tour. Achilleus accompanies him. The Roman immortal keeps his eye on you and Tanethlon, while you watch him, all of you feeling the invisible Quickening that vibrates between you, unperceived by the Iceni and Roman mortals. Later, you scout the surrounding terrain, and watch the Roman camp in the evening. Somewhat to your surprise, you hear from Tanethlon that the Romans are leaving again the next morning, barely a real visit. Not that the Iceni are likely to complain. The Roman immortal moves about the camp, ordering men, and watching the hills and the nearby village. You can't make out a lot, crouching in the darkness at a distance great enough for your Quickening not to alert him. <><><><><> He fixed the Roman immortal with his stare as Achilleus followed his governor around. Like wolves, circling, testing.... trying to establish the rules and see who is alpha. And much like wolves, it will come to violence, if someone doesn't back down. There was nothing to be gained by forcing the issue. Ciaran slipped into the crowd and faded out of sight. The time was not right. They would meet again, maybe soon. After watching the camp for a time, Ciaran slipped deeper into the woods to bathe. He kept his blade within an arm's length and his senses alert. Once he had washed the muck and mud from himself, he dressed and returned to the village by a circuitous route. A mug or two of drink, a bit of song, a tale or three, and maybe another evening with that young lass. It would likely be the last night for them in Icenian lands. <><><><><> [GM] The next morning, Tanethlon and you watch from a secure distance while the Romans pick up camp and prepare to depart. The Icenian king and queen have their knights line up to give the governor a respectful send-off....though you can well imagine that what many of those knights are muttering under their breath is not respectful at all. The Romans are returning south, to Camulodunum. Apparently Aulus Plautius is not so arrogant as to venture into less tightly controlled lands with a mere hundred men. Tanethlon considers. "Synhyfar probably already has someone in Camulodunum, scouting out other possible Roman immortals. And our part in this is not headhunting, but stirring unrest and gathering information. Now we know a little about at least one of their immortals. Perhaps we should next go west, and see if there are any in the 'frontier' areas where fighting is still going on." <><><><><> "Then West it will be," he answered with a smile. The Eire Celt gathered up his own belongings for travelling. He followed Tanethelon. Ciaran made sure that be bid farewells to the King and Queen and thanked them for their hospitality. He whispered to the Queen, just before leaving her presence. "It has been a great pleasure... and I do so hope to make my way back to your lands again... Few places are so blessed with women either fair or wise... but here, this place, I find both in one person. I take my leave." With that, he exits and joins his companion to travel to the frontier lands in search of information. <><><><><> [GM] Uncontested Roman rule now extends to the river frontier demarcated by the Sefern and Afon rivers. To the south is the great fortress of Glevum, and from there Aulus Plauties has had a line of guard posts built along the lower Severn and Avon, extending north and east. Glevum's line of suboordinate outposts joins those extending from Ratae Coritanorum and Lindum Colonia, where other Legions are stationed, thus forming a triangular territory behind which the Roman occupation force can consolidate and build. Passing through, you can see roads being built everywhere, linking both the fortresses and guard outposts, and the major towns. The Romans have a passion for building roads, Tanethlon tells you, and even a proverb: "All roads lead to Rome." Typically arrogant, but the elder immortal observes that it is one of the beneficial consequences of Roman occupation. It will improve trade, communications, and travel, linking territories that once were too remote to be considered "neighbors". "It's also the real reason why driving them out will ultimately prove futile," Tanethlon says. "The benefits of 'civilization' can be an insiduous thing....bringing unimagined luxury and security to the populace, the price being merely their freedom. After a time, that price will seem small, or even go unnoticed. In a few generations, these Celtic tribes will be *Roman*, in every way that counts." Much of this land was ruled by the Catevellauni, whose energetic and impulsive king, Caractacus, was in large part responsible for the Roman invasion. He initiated a campaign against the Regnenses, and that tribe, a client of Rome since Caesar's time, appealed to Rome for help. The invasion force sent by the young Emperor Claudius was the response. Caractacus fled to the west after the decisive (and for the Catevellauni, disastrous) battle of Medwey, and has taken refuge with the Silures in Powys. In the thick forests of Powys is where you and Tanethlon find Synhyfar and Rhys ap Cynned, leading night raids against the Roman frontier garrisons, and their foot patrols. The two Cymric immortals have not yet encountered any Roman immortals. Synhyfar traveled to Camulodunum herself, and found none. Rhys ap Cynned is not at all impressed that you met one and didn't challenge him. He glares at you and Tanethlon and demands "What's the matter, you don't have the nerve to try taking someone's head?" Synhyfar, with her disturbingly youthful figure and more disturbingly scarred face, leans on her spear and regards the two of you after you deliver an account of your travels among the Iceni. "It sounds like they are whipped....for the moment," she observes. "Here, we are harrassing them and keeping them on edge, but I agree with Tanethlon....a significant military defeat is probably too much to hope for- yet." <><><><><> "Well, without leading armies ourselves, we cannot organize a decisive attack," Synhyfar says. "We can, however, continue to harry them and make their lives miserable." "Here in Powys, Caractacus is already constantly stirring up the Silures, trying to encourage them to unite and initiate a full-scale attack on the Romans. He's doing a better job than we could, so I plan to simply act on his behalf. To the north, Scathach is teaching the less pacified clans of the Brigantes tactics of stealth and ambush. She is no bard either, though. We are lacking in leadership. Tanethlon can speak well, but I maintain we should reveal ourselves for what we are. If the mortals know that they have immortals of Sidhe blood fighting for them, more would rise up to fight." "What we should do is kill those fools urging caution," Rhys says. "Faint- hearted mortals will be the death of Celtic resistance." "Are you talking about assassinating kings, or druids?" Tanethlon asks mildly. "That's a risky endeavor as well....actually, killing political opposition is *very* Roman....." He smiles at Rhys, who blinks and frowns, with the look of a man who thinks he's been insulted but isn't quite sure. <><><><><> He was about to respond to Synhyfar when Rhys blurted out his condemnation of Celtic mortals. Ciaran shook his head softly. He looked at the man but before he could speak, Tanethelon had already said everything necessary and with more tact that the Eire Warrior would have managed. He dismissed the ranings of the large Cymric warrior. The man loved his land and felt frustration. It was understandable. Were Ciaran faced with a similar situation and the Romans were already in his homeland, then he too might be voicing the same opinions. "Rhys," he began, "I feel for you in this... I would want for the same things... I have no love for these Romans... but neither am I timid or cowed... by anyone... but understand that it is this time that we must use to our advantage. We have that on our side... Immortality. We must learn and study first... be a thinking warrior Rhys." He turned to Synhyfar. "You have seen them up close now. You are still of the same opinion. How would you go about that? It is your idea... Who would you accept as a leader... and how far would you be willing to accept that leadership?" <><><><><> [GM] Synhyfar looks at you. "Mortals rally around powerful images. Tanethlon told me how the Romans maintain discipline and morale in large part because of the admiration they feel for their leaders, and the pride they take in the accomplishments of their 'empire'. They do not fight for personal glory, as we do." Tanethlon nods. "And that is why we are losing. In single combat....such as that between immortals....I daresay a Celtic warrior could hold his own against a Roman soldier any day. But their armies are a thousand men acting with one will, whereas ours are a thousand men acting with a thousand wills, all generally heading in the same direction." "So, you suggest to win, we must fight like Romans?" Rhys demands. "Not exactly," Tanethlon replies. "But we do need leadership and something that will unite all the tribes, or our individual skirmishes will be nothing more than that....one tribe after another will be suppressed, and the continual warfare will be no more than an irritation to the Romans." Synhyfar is still regarding you. "I do not know who our leader could be," she says. "Not me, because I appear to be only a girl, and marred." "I think no one of us can 'lead' the tribes," Tanethlon says. "That will only make the kings and queens see us as potential threats. What we need to offer is symbolism....imagery....something to inspire them." "I have no clue what you're talking about!" Rhys snaps. <><><><><> "Ah," mused Ciaran as he ignored Rhys in favor of Tanethelon and Synhyfar. "I am seeing a thing here." He paused and looked faraway and his eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment. Then he cocked his head slightly and looked to Tanethelon. "To fight them as a Legend. Give the people something to beleive in. Make them think there is hope. Let them decide that having Sidhe help is in their best interest. Don't tell them who we are, but rather prove it to them.... A band of Sidhe warriors riding into battle.... straight from the legends... Like we were the Tuatha De Danaan." <><><><><> [GM] "The toowa-deeda-what?" Rhys asks, frowning at you again. But Tanethlon and Synhyfar both look at you with interest. "Tuahaa Dedanun," Synhyfar repeats, pronouncing it a little bit better. "Your gods, in Eire? Yes, I see your idea." Tanethlon nods also. "Yes, that is the sort of thing that would inspire mortals." He smiles. "Of course, it's also the sort of thing that will draw every Roman immortal in Prydain out, to come after us." "Indeed?" Rhys says. "Hmmm." He fingers the blade of his spear. "This sounds like a good idea to me, then." <><><><><> "I imagined that it would," he said in a chiding tone to Rhys. He then focused on the other two. He returned Tanethelon's smile with one of his own. "Is that not part of our intention? To draw out the Roman immortals... draw out all the immortals? Together we stronger are than we would alone be and that will cause hunters to think. And it has some other advantages... the mortals who see us do will make their own conclusions about us... perhaps with some bardic nudging, but it will be they who decide that we are Sidhe, and not us who tell them that we are immortals... no Rules are broken." <><><><><> [GM] "I like this idea," Synhyfar says. "A pity we could not get Rhian or Nodán to join us- Rhian, with her noble bearing, and Nodán, who already looks like one of the half-mythical pre-Milesians, would look quite impressive storming across a battlefield." Tanethlon sighs. You get the impression that the man really isn't enthused about actively participating in battle, though you're pretty sure his reluctance does not stem from cowardice. "Well, if we're going to do this, I recommend we do it right. We should gather the finest horses we can, and some really impressive chariots, with big, loud wheels. Get some of those cumbersome gae bolga spears...I think they're not as effective as a balanced straight blade, myself, but they do *look* fearsome. And we'd do well to have at least a few bards and druids following in our wake, as well. When we first make our appearance, we want bards hurling satires and curses, and druids casting spells, so we're as intimidating as possible, both to the Romans and to our own people. If we want to look like warriors of legend, we want to look like really *scary* warriors. Get our hair dressed, paint ourselves with the brightest blue, and come charging out screaming bloody murder." Synhyfar nods. "It seems we can't entirely do without mortal support after all, then." "We might do well to first make some dramatic appearances among our own people," Tanethlon says, nodding. "Rather than simply appearing on a battlefield one day, we should let ourselves be seen galloping past villages and king's duns, perhaps attack a Roman patrol here and there, and start superstitious rumors circulating about us. In the meantime, I'll go speak to the local druid's college, and see how much support they might lend, in the form of well-placed words at the kings' courts, and auspicious signs...." <><><><><> He stroked his beard for a few moments. Then he nodded. "Without these preparations as Tanethelon has pointed out... we would be wasting our time. We must look the part... We must look like Sidhe and Tuath. It is not a thing to take on lightly. For any Roman Immortals will sense what it is we are at, and will have to step up to challenge us. We are taking a step that can not be reversed. I agree that it would be best if Tanethelon speaks with the bards and druids while we gather what we will need." He walked to his own horse and slipped the Gae Bulga spear from it's lashings and carried it back. "The weapon is fearsome but it has limitations." He gripped the weapon and snapped the flanged edges open for his companions to see exactly what he meant. He smiled as he turned the thing over in his hands. He then looked to Rhys. "The beard will have to go... The Sidhe ... Tuath... were clean shaven and fair faced... the warpaints will look best that way. I too will have to shave," he said. He planted the spear and looked to Synhyfar. "We must now plan to gather the best clothes and weapons and equipment and recruit drivers and a small host..." His smile turned darker. "You do understand... we will gain some repute with success... are you ready for that?" <><><><><> [GM] "Oh, I understand," Synhyfar says. "Yes, we'll be ready." Tanethlon remains impassive, Rhys just keeps stroking his spear, no doubt thinking of heads to be taken. The scarred "girl" picks up her own spear. "Let's go then..... and prepare to strike terror into Roman hearts. Tanethlon, you go speak to the druids. I will go north to inform Scathach of our new plan....we should be back within a week or two." <><><><><> *Never trust a woman.* Ciaran smiled at Synhyfar. It is a calculated smile. And he knew he would have to be on his guard. "Good Luck Tanethelon," he said with a solid farewell grip of wrists. "A week or two. Achilleus is out there. Don't lose your head..." He returned his spear to his horse and shifted his broadsword. Medb's broadsword on his back. Steadying the animal, he then pressed up and saddled himself. He looked at the other two, Rhys and Synhyfar. "To the North...." <><><><><> [GM] Synhyfar blinks in surprise. "I did not mean you and Rhys would be coming with me," she says. "I can find Scathach myself. You should stay here, keep watching the Romans, or find something else to occupy yourself with. You don't need me to tell you what to do constantly, do you?" Rhys snorts scornfully, at the notion that Synhyfar could *ever* tell him what to do....not even realizing himself that the deceptively vulnerable- looking woman has been the uncontested leader of this group since the beginning. <><><><><> Ciaran laughed softly and shook his head. He dismounted from the horse and made a slight bow. The gesture had just a bit more flourish than necessary. "And that means.... You can gather the chariots and the weapons and see to recruiting a host? If so, by all means... I would no more presume to intrude upon your company and travel with you, then I would with Achilleus." "May the Gods grant you speed... in two weeks, I will be elsewhere." <><><><><> All three immortals look at you in surprise. "I am not *going* to gather hosts and chariots!" Synhyfar snaps. "I'm going to fetch Scathach, that's all. We gather the rest when we return. You could even get started while I'm gone. What IS your problem, Fennian?" <><><><><> "I have no problem," he said. "At least none that anyone here can help me resolve." He gathered the reins of his horse and looked at the three of them. "I am headed for the nearest village... I think I will get drunk, sing a bit, and maybe get laid... not necessarily in that order. Thought I would let you all know that anyone is welcome to come with me." His smiled never faded and he started off towards the trail that would take him to the village near the stream that he had passed an hour or so back. <><><><><> [GM] Synhyfar snorts and kicks her horse, trotting away to the north. Rhys says "I've better things to do!" Tanethlon glances at Rhys and says "I'll catch up later, Ciaran." He does, shortly after you arrive at the village. You're enjoying some rather poor ale, and picking out likely prospects among the female population, when you feel the Quickening. Tanethlon enters the inn, nods affably at the other patrons, and comes and sits down next to you. "So what WAS that about?" he asks. "She prick your ego, lad?" <><><><><> "Perhaps," Ciaran said softly as he finished the mug and set it down. "But it also occurred to me that I needed to see how she would react. It told me a few things about her." He made a gesture for another mug and indicated that his friend would want one as well. "I do suppose that I expected a bit of courtesy. She was tired of hiding and wanted to do something... but had no idea what she wanted to do. An idea comes along, namely mine... with your refinement... and she starts handing out the assignments." "Aye... perhaps it was your idea and you lead me into speaking it... It matters not... I am here and she is not and that suits me just fine." <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon chuckles. "She does have a bossy way about her. If she was a man, she would no doubt be a leader of men. But she's obsessed with driving away the Romans, so don't expect much gratitude or acknowledgment from her. You'll just have to put up with her ways, if you want to still work as part of a group." He drinks from his own mug. "That's what inevitably makes alliances among immortals temporary. We tend to be very strong-willed, as we must to survive, and after a few centuries, we also tend to be very set in our ways." <><><><><> With his mug refilled, he turned his chair to face the elder immortal. He looked at him straight and serious. "I havena' a problem with working in a group. I havena' a probem working with other immortals... so long as everyone is up front and has a bit of honor in them. What I don't like is the idea that she wants us all to be a group... she arranged all this... And she doesna' want to work in a group..." He took a long drink and set the mug down again. "I came to Prydain because Scathach made a long trip to find me... dig me up out of my hermit hole... and ask me to help her. I saw the threat that these Romans posed... but I will be honest... they aren't likely to come to Eire for some time. I don't need to be here... But I am here... I have joined this group... I'll do my best, and I expect nothing less from anyone and everyone else...Achhhh." He sat back and turned his attention to the women in the place again. He shook his head once more and took a drink. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, set the mug down, and felt some of the weight and tension ease. It really wasn't worth all that much to get worked up over, and he saw that. He smiled and gave Tanethelon a sidelong glance. "What are your plans Bard of Bards?" <><><><><> [GM] Tanethlon smiles. "Well, I'll have a few drinks with you, and then I was thinking I'd go off and have a chat with the druids. You can come with me if you like, but you almost certainly won't understand much of the conversation. Druids are hard enough to understand for people who *do* speak the language fluently." "I spent some time as a druid, a couple centuries ago." He sighs. "They are an odd brotherhood. Very learned, and they have acquired some startling insights into the nature of the universe-" he glances at you. "Some of them even have a small amount of Quickening in them, mortals!" He empties his mug. "But it's all wrapped up in mysticism and superstition." <><><><><> He looked at his mug, nearly half empty at this point and then at Tanethelon. The Bard certainly knew how to pique his curiosity. He looked out across the room at the woman he had figured would be his best choice and then back to his drink. Lastly, he made one long sigh and looked back to his friend with a smile. "I suppose I can always pass back through this way... Ye dinna' think it be so easy to get rid of me, now did ye?," he said with an even thicker brogue accent than usual. He chuckled and finished his mug off. "I can't resist learning something new... A couple of mugs and then we are on our way."