[RPG] Ariana and Morthwyl ~ Arrival and Preparation

[Timothy Collett]

Morthwyl rode through the night in silence. It had gone dark hours  
ago, but he knew the path he was on well. He had traveled the route  
only twice before, but he remembered both times vividly.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. Ariana had fallen asleep in  
the saddle a while before, he didn’t want to wake her up. It had been  
a long day and a long trek. The horses were starting to tire, but he  
knew they had almost reached the top of the path. He tugged the reins  
of Ariana’s horse to get it to follow him up the narrow path when he  
saw the flicker of torchlight in the distance.

After a short while he saw two silhouettes emerging from the shadows,  
clad in the same black cloaks and marked with a familiar symbol on  
the crest of their helmets.

“Greetings brother Paladin, it has been a while.”

Morthwyl smiled from under the hood of his cloak and raised his hand  
to return the salute.

“That it has brother, but the purpose of my visit is different this  
time as you well know.”
--
Ariana awakens to find herself in bed in a small, but comfortable  
room.  The last I remember, the sun was just setting...I must have  
fallen asleep in the saddle.

After getting up and dressed, she finds some food on a small table  
near the fireplace.  It is plain fare, but well-made, and welcome.   
Once she has eaten her fill, she opens the outer door and goes in  
search of Morthwyl.  As she does so, her heart flutters as it hits  
her what she is here to do...and what she has left behind to do so.

"Hoshi will be frantic by now," she murmurs.  "I wonder if they'll  
have search parties out?  Well, I doubt they'd ever find this place..."

At length, she locates someone who directs her to a courtyard where  
he says Morthwyl is preparing himself.  Following his directions, she  
comes to a place at the eastern edge of the enclave.  Coming from his  
right, she sees Morthwyl looking out to the east, his face bathed in  
the dawn sunlight.

"Morthwyl, there you are," she says.  "I've been looking---"

She stops as she walks out into the courtyard and is stunned by the  
vista that greets her.

Before her lies the entire Ipsosez valley, bathed in golden light.  A  
waterfall sparkles and flashes some way below, and in the far  
distance, she can just make out the spires of the citadel of Ipsosez  
itself.

Overcome, Ariana sits on the stones beside Morthwyl and just gazes  
out at the beautiful vista, tears glistening on her cheeks.  After  
several minutes, she begins a silent prayer to Arelien, Goddess of  
the Sun and her own patron, thanking Her for the magnificent dawn,  
and asking for guidance in what is to come.
--
Ariana looks at herself in the mirror.  Bright Lady, is this really  
happening?  I can hardly wrap my mind around it...  She looks over at  
the door, and what hangs there.  She didn't exactly have time to pack  
anything when Morthwyl stopped her in the street and spirited her  
away to this mountain enclave of Tyrrans, but they had provided her  
with suitable garments, and they said someone would be coming to help  
her prepare soon...

Well, I'd better get on with it...

It takes her several minutes to change into the dress, putting on the  
dressing table a ring on a silver chain that she had been wearing  
around her neck.  Though it is not what she would have chosen, or  
designed, for herself, when she sees herself in it in the mirror, it  
seems almost as if it was made for her.  The bodice is green front  
and back with sides embroidered with stylized flowers.  The skirts  
are yellow and green with liberal gold accents, and the front panel  
is entirely golden.  The embroidery on the skirts seem to depict the  
Earth, and an Earth Goddess--probably the one Morthwyl has  
occasionally mentioned as being linked with Tyr.  There is a jacket,  
for the high mountains are cold, which is a sandy colour with gold  
thread and accents of flame-red showing stylized suns.  All in all,  
the impression is one of all growing things, and is somehow full of  
joy and hope...and the colours mirror those of the sunrise she  
watched with Morthwyl just days ago.

"I don't know this Earth Goddess, but she seems very kind..." Ariana  
murmurs.

"She is," says a voice from the doorway.  "Zisa, the Earth Mother,  
from Whom we all spring."  A woman stands there, slender, with long,  
black hair.  Her dark brown eyes light up as she smiles warmly at  
Ariana.  "Sorry to startle you, Ariana.  I am Wynne, Morthwyl's  
sister." She offers her hand, which Ariana takes.

"Are-are you the one they said would be coming to help me?" Ariana  
asks.  Wynne nods.  "But...how did you get here so fast?"

The other woman laughs, walking slowly around Ariana, clearly making  
mental notes about her appearance.  "I am a Priestess of Zisa here.   
I came here some time ago from the west."

At last, she stops, right behind Ariana, and looks into her eyes in  
the mirror.  "Now...why don't we do something with that lovely hair  
of yours?"  She pulls some ribbon from a pocket and looks at Ariana's  
hair with a calculating eye.

***

Ariana gazes into the mirror.  "Bright Lady," she whispers, "is this  
really me?  I look...amazing!"

Wynne has put her hair into a complicated arrangement of braids and  
ribbons that seems almost to defy reality, and applied some gentle  
makeup to Ariana's face, working a subtle but remarkable  
transformation.  "A fine job, if I do say so myself.  You will  
absolutely stun Morthwyl when he sees you."  Her eyes glitter, and  
her smile briefly takes on a mischievous cast.

A bell tolls somewhere in the complex.  Wynne gives Ariana's face and  
hair one last check, then stands her up, and says, "Well, Ariana,  
it's time.  The ceremony will be starting in just a few minutes."

Ariana smiles, takes the ring, and follows Wynne out.
--
Morthwyl stood on the balcony of his room, looking out over the  
valley as he had done a lot during the time he and Ariana had spent  
at the small monastery. He found the view to be soothing, it helped  
him to clear his mind. This time, however, his mind refused to be  
cleared, there were just too many thoughts racing through his mind,  
all of them too powerful to suppress.

He turned and looked at himself in the mirror, smiling faintly. He  
had never been one for finery or ritual, but such things were  
necessary at times. He carefully ran his hand along his hair, not  
wanting to ruin the fruits of Wynne’s hard labor.

His robe was decorated with intricate patterns embroidered in silver  
thread on the white fabric. Most prominent of these designs was a  
stylized tree on the back of the robe, but there were also older  
markings, more obscure ones, tracing their history back to a time  
when his line was not as endangered as it was now.

He rose slowly and opened a small box on the table. He took out a  
circlet and held it in front of him to look at it. The silver circlet  
was ancient in design, the diamond set in the crest cut only in a  
very basic point, yet it was still a graceful thing after many  
generations of use. He set the circlet on his brow and sighed, trying  
to control his nerves.

He looked up when he heard the bell call him and closed his eyes  
briefly, a smile coming over his face at last. He whispered a few  
words to the wind and turned to leave the room.

--

"The only thing you can't trade for your heart's desire is your heart."
  ~ Miles Naismith Vorkosigan

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