The Awen Moot

[get_off_my_lawn]

Who: Taryn Shadow-Walker, any members of Awen and visiting fellows
What: The Moot aka Awen Court
When: Backdated to the night of June 27th because I suck (half moon)
Where: Alilany
Warnings: there will be some combat and bloodshed

Notes: Here is a reference for how Moots are done in the Werewolf: the Apocalypse canon that Taryn is based off of. There are some differences, like being held on the half moon instead of full moon and the structure is a lot looser. Anyone that ICly looked into what a 'moot' is will find some very old tales mentioning wolf 'beastmen' and how they would gather every month to reaffirm themselves. And that's about it.


Alilany was always a rustic, peaceful city in Lerrian, full of beastmen, fae and some humans. Very tribal with little technology, more magic, and sense of home to any that were able to relax in the forests that surrounded the capital of Awen. Even the Warders, the special beastmen guard the capital were rarely seen, blending into the environment easily. But with the Moot, it was different.

Now, the spiritual center that Alilany was became more pronounced as the shamans went about cleansing the city and preparing it, as if the receive Gaia herself. Who knew, perhaps Mother Earth would grace the Moot with her presence. Earthy music filtered through the air - drums and pipes, but mostly drums - and the large clearing in the center of the city was ready for those who wished to participate in the Moot - be it spiritual communication, airing of grievances, petitions to the Ar-Righ, or simply the Revel at the end. The Warders were far more visible, meeting and greeting any foreign dignitaries that chose to attend. Weaponry was allowed at the Moot, for only a fool would draw their weapon at a Moot outside of formal challenge, so there was no need to ban them. Awen was, after all, a strong nation if small.

There was no throne in the clearing for the Ar-Righ to sit upon. No, that wasn't how Taryn or her lineage did things. Instead, there was a large boulder containing some of the gemstones from Arird to the southern end of the clearing, big enough to serve a similar function as a throne, with torches on either side and trophies from the battle with the Raiders on display. In the very center of the clearing was an impressive bonfire, easily controlled by the shamans nearby. Musicians to one side, others were seated on the ground or standing around and there was no specific place for the foreign dignitaries. If they were expecting special seating, they wouldn't find any favor, though if they moved to position themselves close to the rock, Taryn would have room made for them.

With a loud howl that carried and echoed off the trees, Taryn called the Moot with the ceremonial tribute. Beastmen of all sorts raised their voices to join her, howling, growling, warbling and even some of the humans mimicked the wolf's howl. The drums and other music faded so all that could be heard was the beautiful chorus of the people of Awen calling out to the land. After a few seconds, the Opening Howl ended and there was silence save for the crackling of the bonfire and any quiet muttering from those visiting that didn't know what to expect.

Comments

Songs and Stories

[get_off_my_lawn]

The drums and the flutes kicked up as the Cracking of the Bone ended. Now was the time to tell tales of glory and honor, to boast and impress. These stories can be of anything, as the skalds and human bards will be listening.

And this started out with a young beastmen jumping into the center of the clearing and telling his tale of the battle against the raiders, about how he and his group pulled a firedrake out of the sky with their bare hands, using ropes launched onto the beast. Tales of how his battle-brother survived the drake's fire to drive his spear right into its eye. Yes, this is a bloody tale, but one of battle. And one of Victory!

Taryn howls her enjoyment in the tale when it's done. Who's next?

[ooc: Anyone who wants to tell a tale or a story is free to. They need not be of battle, they can be of silly things. Tales teach as well as entertain.]

[path_to_the_world]

This was the realm of Ira, Tyrnen had no need to tell of stories to a group, in fact it made him just a little uncomfortable at the thought. Books where for retelling stories, reading and writing was the best way to share, no way to forget or mis-remember. But he did enjoy hearing stories told by others, and to record them, all within the Book of Words. However, Ira herself loved to tell tales, and for the first time in public reveled she had a spiritual form other than a voice attached to a book.

She appeared to be a young woman with long shimmering red hair and bright green eyes. Her features were distinctively fae and long pointed ears peaked out from her hair. Though any relation to the fae was up for debate, it could just as easily simply be a look she liked. Her form faded slightly in and out, never quite fully there, but enough to make her seem like an actual being of flesh and blood if you weren't paying much attention. She had a voice of bells and a captivating smile, her dress was simple and was something appropriate to the region.

"There are many stories I can tell, those of great kings and those of great sorcerers. Warriors, scholars, dragons and fae, I have known them all. But I will tell you of a story long lost, of the great Magus Archeron, this was a time long ago when the Fae were not so hard to find, when they had great cities within the forest of the like no man could even fathom. Their magic and technology was Superior to all, and Acheron was their brightest and most talented mage. He created many spells that few could reproduce, and was heralded across the land for his great knowledge and ability," she paused to look around her audience, slightly floating off the ground. Tyrnen himself tried to keep up with her words as he wrote them down.

"But, of course, things were not perfect in this time. There were those who were jealous and did not like the prosperity of Acheron's kingdom and did not like the fae. A war broke out and for the first time in a long time the fae were outmatched. Acheron's king asked for his aid. 'Please, you must do something or else our people and kingdom will fall'. And it seemed as if it would inevitably do so.

"However!" her eyes widened slightly in excitement and she made little fists. "Acheron had a plan, a great spell that would save them, but he was reluctant, as the devastation it would cause would be unimaginable. But he could not think of any other way, it was the death of his people or the annihilation of the enemy's vast army. It took him nine days to decide on whether his soul could bare such a burden, nine hours to set up the spell, and within nine minutes the entire enemy line was destroyed with a power never seen since. It was the first and last time such a devastating spell was used. Immediately after the great Acheron sealed his spell away so none could ever use it again and then seemed to vanish over night. Some say he traveled far and wide becoming a vagabond unable to cope with what he had to do, others say he tried to spread the word of peace, others say he secluded himself high in the mountains where he studied alone perfecting his magic to the point where he became a god.

"Of course there is only one truth to what happened, and only one person left in today's time who knows, but you won't hear the answer from me, at least not this night," she finished her story, that almost seemed more like a tease, with a smile. It didn't look like she was going to fade away any time soon though, she was ready to have fun and not be stuffed in a bag or written in all day. Let Tyrnen play scribe, she would enjoy the festivities.