TheT/CadePrelude
Back to Campaigns.
It's a long, long way from the Near South to Halta. Months with fast roads and rested horses become months more with little more than the clothes on one's back, inexperience, and taking the back roads just in case someone is looking for an escaped slave. Someone must be watching over Cade, however. He does not run afoul of spirits or Fair Folk, nor does he wander into a shadowland at the wrong time. No Guild slavers pick him up for resale. There is an incident or two, but he is talented enough to avoid them before they become dangerous.
Nearly a year passes of odd jobs and living on wits and fending off the occasional bandit. The arid hills give away to forests, and the forests to well-watered plains, then to forests again. Unfortunately, between Haltan land and the rest of the East is Linowan territory, much too wide to go around, and their scouts watch the land jealously, ever wary for Haltan trickery.
Cade enters the territory cautiously, leaning on a sturdy spear as he walks and keeping a sharp eye out for harriers. He's more than pleased with himself for making it this far, but he's not about to let his guard down.
Midiriel comes in from the Games Hall.
This is Linowan lands and Linowan scouts have been trained to watch over it from their earliest days. Very few pass through without their knowledge. Cade is not one of those. At some point he will probably notice there are bark-clad warriors not only trailing him, but walking ahead and to the sides of him, five in all, quickly hemming him in.
Cade is fortunate enough to notice them before they attack, but he tries not to let this on. He continues along, watching for a time before breaking into a sprint and aiming for the gap ahead of him, to keep himself from being surrounded.
Attack? Who's attacking? They're just watching for now, at least until they notice. Then, they quickly move to flank him. One calls for Cade to halt in heavily accented Riverspeak.
Cade is both stubborn and suspicious. He keeps moving, though he does slow a little to turn and glance over his shoulder. "Go fuck a bear," he calls in Low Realm before adding in Riverspeak, "Lovely weather, eh?"
The question is ignored. It doesn't seem any of them know Low Realm, either. The lead Linowan shakes his spear in a threatening manner. "What is your business here? You travel to Haltan territory." There is a rather disconcerting murmur from the other four warriors.
Cade is probably remarkably lucky that several generations have minimized his Haltan features. He just shrugs, still walking along quickly. "Just going to borrow some sugar."
One of the warriors say in Forest-tongue, "He is a spy." Another murmur circles the group. "You will come with us," orders the first Linowan. "Put your hands behind your back and allow them to be bound."
"Sure, of course," Cade says. "But can you hold this for me?" He quickly whips a large knife from his belt and flings it at the nearest warrior.
The Linowan does indeed hold it, dropping his spear and clutching at the handle in shock. The rest of the knife is buried in his chest. He's still trying to pull it out when he topples backward and lies still. Three of the remaining four spread out immediately, in defensive positions. The fourth, a goodly distance away, hurls a spear at Cade.
Cade drops and rolls to the side, away from the thrown spear before chucking his own in response at one of the nearer enemies. He snatches the thrown spear from the ground and eyes the others warily.
There is a loud -crack- as the haft of the spear hits the dodging Linowan in the head, staggering him. The spear tossed by the warrior clatters to the earth, to be snatched up by Cade. The spear thrower rushes in, but he's got a way to come. Meanwhile, the two unstaggered Linowans close enough to attack dart in, spears jabbing, then dart out again, seeking an opening in Cade's defenses.
Cade falls back and onto the defensive for the moment, batting the stabbing spears away. He looks for an opening, holding back and trying not to give them an easy chance.
The dazed Linowan shakes off his injury, puts fingers to his lips and emits a piercing whistle sure to be heard for a long way. Meanwhile, the three others circle Cade in an attempt to confuse him (or stab him in the back), spears still jabbing.
Cade ducks smoothly away just as the Linowan who threw his spear earlier arrives, taking advantage of the attackers' reshuffling to slash low behind one and sever his hamstrings.
The whistling comes more frantically now, as another Linowan falls to the ground, cursing. A spear head flashes inches from Cade's face, and another hits the ground less than a foot away from him. From a thicket of pines to the north, answering whistles come, along with warcries -- at least ten more Linowan approach, and quickly.
Cade swears under his breath, backing away again with his spear held for the defensive. He's not about to give up, though. Not to these guys.
The Linowan don't advance anymore. They stand back and grin. They'll have Cade soon enough.
In a nearby tree crouches a woman on a high branch. She's dressed like the Linowan, but her skin is moon-pale, and her hair silver-white. A grin of amusement stretches across her youthful, beautiful face. It doesn't seem any of the Linowan can see her, but she's certainly there, though the slender branch she crouches upon does not sway in the slightest.
The young woman gestures at Cade, then makes a throat-cutting motion and shakes her head sadly. No, it doesn't look good for the young descendant of the Haltans. Her slender hands fold under her chin, and she watches with keen interest, tilting her nose up slightly as if giving permission for things to proceed.
Cade blinks, noticing the woman as he surveys the oncoming forces. He watches her with a frown, jerking his attention back to the Linowan just in time to counter a pair of thrusts aimed his way and even slam the butt of his spear into one's stomach.
The unfortunate Linowan doubles over, and the reinforcements come into spear-throwing range. From the tree where the woman sits comes the sound of soft, solitary applause. Apparently the woman there approves.
"Lay down your weapon!" orders the original Linowan leader.
"Only after you're all dead!" Cade replies, barely knocking aside a spear that comes flying toward his head.
Now a cheering sort of whistle sounds, almost a catcall, from the woman in the tree, and every head turns in that direction. But she's gone. And Cade is surrounded by a small forest of spears. There is silence after that whistle, and a soft silver light descends upon the field of battle. It make take Cade a moment to realize that light is emanating from him.
Cade is offbalance for a moment, glancing down at himself in confusion. He doesn't waste much time before rushing back at the Linowan, roaring and attacking with a new ferocity.
A new ferocity indeed. Linowan warriors die. Spears are tossed, but none can touch Cade. Those Linowan spears that draw blood go unnoticed, and are generally answered with a fatal thrust. It doesn't take long for the Linowan to flee, yelling something about angry gods.
Cade snatches up several of the thrown spears, tossing them at the fleeing Linowan with merciless accuracy. He finally pauses to catch his breath, looking around for the woman.
Perhaps one or two Linowan escape, but at least a dozen are dead, or wish they were. But it isn't long before even more reinforcements arrive, and that silver glow will be really easy to spot.
Cade stalks across the battlefield, watching the horizon with a frown before grabbing his weapons and turning to run for the forest.
As Cade runs, the silver-haired woman is next to him. She doesn't run out of the woods, or appear out of nowhere -- she's just there. How long she's been running alongside him is anyone's guess. She keeps pace easily. Indeed, she's not even making any effort.
Cade glances over to her as he runs, not slackening his pace. "Sorry you didn't get to join the fun."
"Wasn't my party," the woman says. She reaches out a slender arm, and cool fingers touch Cade's forehead. "I claim you for my own."
With that, she is gone, and it is night, with a crescent moon shining high overhead. Cade is much deeper in the forest, and utterly alone, but for the sound of the nocturnal animals.
"Well, damn," Cade remarks, confused. He continues to run through the forest for a time before, on an urge, grabbing a low branch and pulling himself up into a tree.
Which, in retrospect, seems to have been a good move, since something like an upright 10-foot tall bear lumbers out of the forest not more than a few minutes later. Sniffing the air, the beast walks ponderously to Cade's tree and kicks it, hard enough to make it sway, though the trunk is thick and strong.
Cade climbs higher quickly, looking down at the bear with a wary eye. As he nears the canopy, he looks for branches reaching from other trees, planning to put some distance between him and the animal.
"Come down from there," the bear rumbles in distinct Riverspeak. "I don't feel like waiting down here for you all night. We have a long way to go."
Cade blinks at the bear, certainly not expecting that. "Who are you?"
"Wise Mountain. Does it really matter? I am to be your guide until you know enough to not embarrass Luna. You really don't want to do that." The gigantic bear dwindles (somewhat) into a rather large, hirsute man, briefly enveloped in silver light. "Come on now, boy."
Cade finally drops from the tree, still watching the bear-man warily. "Very well. Show me what you must."
Wise Mountain does exactly that. He rarely tells. Over the next months, if there's something to be done, Cade will do it more often than not under the unhelping eye of Wise Mountain. Trial and error seem to be a large part of his teaching process. Battles against rogue spirits and dangerous beasts, stealthy incursions into Haltan and Linowan settlements alike, outwitting Fair Folk, tests of memorization and rational thinking, all are thrown rather ruthlessly at Cade.
It would not be uncommon to wake up in some random part of the forest, with no immediate idea of how to return, or to be told to retrieve a single eating utensil from the palace of some Fair Folk noble, or to have to gather a dozen different plants with very little indication of where they might be found.
Each task, pass or fail, is another mark, another brand, another tattoo. At first there are only a few, then they swirl up and down Cade's arms and legs, around his torso, irrevocably marking him as one of the Lunar Exalted.
Cade learns quickly, even if he can be an infuriating student. He's earned his fair share of punishments along with his skills. Finally, he seems to think he's ready to handle himself and announces such to Wise Mountain.
Wise Mountain grunts, as he so often does, in a bearish manner. "Who is the student and who is the teacher? You presume too much to call yourself ready before I say you are. Ready for what, anyway? Do you even know?" He shakes his massive head slowly. "Cubs. There will be no more talk of ready or unready until I bring it up." Another headshake, and he proceeds. "Due west of here is a camp of Dragon-Bloods. With the help of their Linowan allies, they seek to set up an outpost here. You will remove that encampment, so they will know never to come here again."
"Alright," Cade replies simply. He starts off through the forest, taking the form of a hawk to spy out the intruders and perch on a sturdy branch above them before returning to his natural form.
The Dragon-Bloods, of course, act as if they have nothing to fear. The Princes of the Earth mostly act sullenly toward one another -- likely their posting here was a punishment of some kind. Only four of them, but sometimes that's all it takes to cow the natives. With them is a small detachment of the Legions, of course. They do all the grunt work.
Cade remains still and silent for a time, watching closely. When he's finally sure the soldiers and nobles are relaxed and ripe, he drops from the tree, spear leading as he falls on one of the Dragon-Blooded.
This is a real opponent, not only a warrior born and bred, but an Exalt. He's up and on his feet, if not quite ready, as Cade drops, and the other three soon follow. The retainers, on the other hand, mill about uncertainly. Are more attackers coming?
Cade rolls away from his first target and his spear, drawing a pair of large knives even as he bursts into his Beastman form, towering over the Exalts and striking with essence-enhanced ferocity. As soon as he lands a blow, he spins away again, now shrinking and dropping to all fours. He darts through the milling soldiers as his anima begins to glow a cool silver around him, hoping to drive them to panic and error.
The Dragon-Blood tumbles head over heels, crashing through tents, before landing in a still heap. When Cade's anima ignites, panic does indeed ensue -- the Anathema are always to be feared. One of the Exalts bursts into flame, calling to rally the troops to him, even as Cade runs. Some form into lines, but still more are screaming in terror.
Cade continues to dart through the crowded warriors, never striking more than one blow against any opponent. He slides up behind another of the Dragon-Blooded, swelling into his powerful beastman form again before bringing a knife down on the dynast's unprotected head. He turns away again immediately, taking gash on the side as he bowls over some of the mortals and puts them between him and the other Exalts.
As another Dragon-Blood dies, the line erupts into chaos, while the Fire Aspect shouts for order. With a battle scream, another young Dragon-Blood leaps into the confused soldiers and servants, scattering them with the force of the howling winds swirling around his body. He casts a spear at the Lunar so quickly it splits the air with a loud -crack-.
Cade twists and spins away from the thrown spear, though it still slices across his shoulder before burying itself in a tree. He feints a roaring rush at the lines before turning back to snatch the spear and hurl it back at its owner, his eyes changing subtlely as the spear flies true and hard.
The Air Aspect attempts to snatch the spear from the air, but succeeds only in getting arm pinned to a tree. With a scream more of rage then of pain, he rips the weapon free from his now useless arm, even as the Fire Aspect gives up the effort of trying to rally the troops and rushes at Cade with his flaming daiklaive, trying to catch the Lunar off-guard.
Cade brings one of his knives up to parry the daiklaive, sending it aside even as his mundane blade is broken in his hand. He closes with the fire-aspect before he can riposte, grabbing his head with both mighty hands and twisting it sharply.
The flames surrounding the Dragon-Blood burn Cade's hands, but that doesn't stop his neck from breaking. The flames puff out like a candle flame blown out. The last Exalt is about to cast his spear again.
Cade keeps his grip on the recently departed Exalt, lifting him into the air and hurling him at the spear-wielder to block any reliable shot. He charges in behind the body, lashing out with his remaining knife as he buries the Dragon-Blood with his bulk.
The spear thunks solidly into the corpse, giving the Air Aspect only enough time to look startled as he too is killed by the beastman. There isn't much left of the camp, at this point, as servants, Linowan, and legionaires alike scatter to the five winds.
Cade lets them scatter to tale tells of the horrors in the forest, raising his bloody hands over his head and roaring his triumph.
Cade's triumph gains him a final set of tattoos, proclaiming him irrevocably as a Changing Moon. Three days of rather painful designs and scars inscribed in his skin by the very claws of Wise Mountain, as he offers praise to Luna. The three days are a cleansing process, a final passage, and when they are done, the Exaltation is complete, but for one more thing.
"You must choose a moon-name," Wise Mountain instructs. "The slave Cade is gone. You must now a name indicative of your new life."
"I am still Cade," the young Lunar disagrees. "I will be until I have revenged myself and my ancestors. But I'm something more now, as well." He hefts the jade spear he took from the body of one of the Dragon Bloods. "I am Cade Longclaw, and will be more when I have earned freedom from my past."
Wise Mountain makes a grunt of dissatisfaction, but, well, Cade is his own Lunar now. "Then, go. Make your way in the world and bring no shame to me or to Luna."
With that stirring benediction, Cade is allowed to go free, so long as it doesn't impinge on the territory of any other Lunar. Now that the initiation process is over, dreams that were vague before come more clearly now, night after night. Some are of glorious cities, lost in the fall of the First Age, others are of wars against beings so horrific, the very sight of them would kill a mortal. Many of them figure blood and betrayal -- the glorious Solars and bright Lunars killed under the spears of the Dragon-Blooded. Armored in great machines, it still takes five Terrestrials to take down the Cade of long ago, aided by some mysterious magic that eludes even this new memory.
In every dream but the very last is a woman, sometimes as an associate, sometimes as wife. She's changed a great deal between then and now, but it's very clear that the power that resided in that woman in the First Age now resides in Ledaal Midiriel and the bond forged between her and him was still very strong.
Poor Cade is greatly confused by these memories. The Ledaal Midiriel he knows is, well, something of a bitch. With admirable practicality, he retraces his steps and begins to hunt down the Solar.
It's a long way from the edge of the Wyld to the Near South where Midiriel has set up business, but a Lunar travels a lot faster than a common man, by wing, by river, by swift running feet.
In the meantime, Midiriel (with the help of Narencia) has set up quite a business setting up trade in the Near South and Southeast of the Threshold. Of course, she has a bit of an edge, between her Exalted Charms, and a capable spy in the form of Eyes of the Wind.
The former patrician's modest hostel has been exchanged for a modest home -- though she does not live in the style she is accustomed to anymore, at least she is comfortable. She isn't particularly difficult to find, because her name has to get around somewhat for her business to succeed.
Animals begin to appear around her home. A stray dog sniffing about one day, a falcon perched in a nearby tree the next, a monkey in a vest dances by another. They all seem to be rather interested in the merchant's house.
Midiriel goes about her normal business. Though after a few days she seems to be looking for new animals to 'show up' around her home. She studies them when she notices them - studies all manner of animals in fact, though she makes no move to approach them.
Strays are common enough. Even a low flying falcon probably doesn't garner too much notice. It isn't every day, at least this far from the big cities, however, that monkeys in vests are seen loitering around.
"Another of your friends, Mistress Midiriel?" Narencia remarks, somehow managing to make it sounds like the utmost respect.
Midiriel looks to Narencia and smiles faintly. "I... do not think so." She glances over to Eyes of the Wind and tips her head murmuring to him, asking that the noble bird follow this monkey to see where he goes.
Several days after Midiriel picks up on the behavior, the animals simply stop coming. There's no sign of anything strange for a week, unless Midiriel eyes the local oxen with suspicion. Finally, a large crow lands on the windowsill just as the Solar is preparing for her bath.
Even for Eyes of the Wind, it's difficult to find a monkey that often -isn't- a monkey. The falcon returns to report a rather disappointing failure.
Midiriel assures her familiar that all is well. On this day however, she's got a sheet wrapped around her as Narcencia prepares her bath. When the crow lands on her window sill she looks over and arches a brow. "Me and avians."
"Yours is much more lovely," Narencia assures her mistress. Eyes of the Wind preens a bit at this, in a gesture Midiriel would recognize as 'of course I am'. Even supernatural birds are somewhat vain.
The bird pushes off from the sill, entering the room. It changes as it does so, quickly becoming the familiar form of Cade as he lands lightly on the floor. Except he's not quite the same man. He seems a bit bigger, more confident, even prettier. A sharp eye may even catch that his hair seems to have all gone silver-white.
Midiriel inhales a sharp gasp of surprise and her hands cling to the bathing sheet around her body. "You!"
"Hello, demon," Cade says with an infuriating smile. "Did you miss me?"
Narencia backs surreptitiously behind her mistress. Anathema seem to be popping up all over the place. Only Eyes of the Wind seems unconcerned by this turn of events.
Midiriel rises to the bait admirably. "How -dare- you come into my home, let alone throw that word around." Yes, she's no longer able to claim her noble heritage, and yes she's dressed in a sheet, but damnit, if hauteur counted, she'd be the Queen of Sheba. Or.. err.. the applicable nation here.
Cade drops to a comfortable squat, laying his spear across his knees. "I remember you, you know," he says, unmindful of her tone and mood. "You looked different, but it was you. You were like a queen."
"Ledaal is a house of the Dynast yes, but I was hardly a queen." Midiriel says, eyeing Cade distrustfully.
"Cade," says Narencia, scandalized, even in the face of multiple Anathema, "Milady wishes to -bathe-. It is in appropriate for you to be here."
Cade shakes his head thoughtfully, ignoring Narencia. "No. The Dragon-Blooded were nothing. They served you. Us. Do you remember it?"
Midiriel sidetracked by the questioning, is reminded by her maid's words. "Get. Out." She eyes Cade venomously. "I do not care about the Dragon Blooded. I do not care for what you claim to remember. I want to take my bath."
Cade's words do spark -something-, however. They have the ring of truth.
From over Midiriel's shoulder, Narencia smiles primly at Cade, and makes a shooing motion.
Cade shakes his head again, smiling. "Oh, don't let me stop you. Go ahead. We can still talk while you bathe."
Narencia gasps. Anathema or not, this cannot be! "Shoo!" she flaps her hands some more at Cade, daring to step out from behind Midiriel to do so.
"Damnit Cade get -OUT-." Midiriel looks enraged. "I will call the authorities and then you will have to deal with that headache. Get OUT."
Cade sighs heavily and stands. "Fine, fine. Take your bath. I'll wait for you out here." He starts for the other part of the house.
Eyes of the Wind flaps after Cade, so that both Midiriel and the hawk might keep an eye on him.
Cade takes his ease in the next room, looking around for something to eat. He seems as comfortable as if he owned the place.
Midiriel takes her bath quickly, this is hardly the long, relaxing soak she'd had planned. She dresses rapidly and strides into the other room, not burning at full rage, but certainly still cranky.
Cade is sitting with his feet up, slowly eating a rather juicy piece of fruit. "You've done rather well for yourself. How long before they come and take it all away? As easily as I found you I'm surprised they haven't been here yet."
Midiriel takes a deep breath, wrapping herself in her usual serenity, centering herself so that when she looks at Cade the rage does not dominate. "No one is coming for me here. I have built a law abiding life here."
Now that he's returned, there's something naggingly familiar about Cade, like recognizing someone without placing his face -- which is an odd feeling considering Midiriel knows exactly who he is.
"Really?" Cade asks. "Apart from a little law or two about Anathema. Do you really think the Hunt won't come after you?" He snorts softly and shakes his head. "A year ago I wouldn't have cared. But now..." He shrugs.
Midiriel eyes Cade, and a hint of waspishness enters her tone. "No one -knows- that, Cade."
"Not here, but back home?" Cade shrugs again. "Look. There's something about you. I /know/ you. I'm sure I do. I need to figure this out, and I can't do that if the Hunt takes you."
Midiriel furrows her brows at Cade and tips her head. "What is there to figure out about me? And no Hunt will find me. Of all things, I know subtlty."
Narencia stands around nervously, as she always does at the mention of the Wyld Hunt. A couple decades of being raised with the Immaculate Philosophy is still difficult to get over.
Cade frowns vaguely. "Do you remember nothing about me? Tell me all you remember is a humble groundskeeper and I'll go. But there was something else, and I need to know what."
All it is right now is a feeling that Cade's right. There's no denying that what he speaks is the truth, at least to oneself. Midiriel could easily deny it verbally, but it would be a lie.
Midiriel's lips thin into a line and she looks at Cade with a frown. "You seem ... familiar in a way." She shrugs, looking to Cade, "So what of it?"
"I don't like mysteries," Cade says frankly. "I've learned a lot about what I've been allowed to become, but these memories..." He shakes his head slowly. "I need to make sure you're safe while I figure this out."
Midiriel narrows her eyes faintly and then sighs, shaking her head. "I've been safe for the last year. I am not without defenses. Eyes of the Wind keeps me apprised of that which I need to know. I'm not blatent about my... my.. true being."
"The bird?" Cade asks, glancing its way and nodding amiably. "You're complacent, demon. I tell you I found you easily, and so will they."
"With all due respect, mistress," Narencia asks quietly, "do you think your family will tolerate your... state for very long?" She glares at Cade, however, probably because she's forced to agree with him.
Midiriel sighs and looks to Narencia, as if her words were the last straw falling on her resistance. "I... Where would we go?"
Cade shrugs. "Well, I'll leave that up to you. You're the one with baggage. But you can be a queen of trade on the road, can't you?"
Midiriel considers that for a moment and nods. "Possibly." She sighs again and instinctively turns to her hawk, stroking his feathers as she tries to settle into this new idea.
"With me along, you'll be safe as anything," Cade says, smiling again. "You've got time here. We don't need to leave immediately. But staying here permanently is suicide."
Eyes of the Wind is always up for being stroked, at least by Midiriel, but offers no comment. And strangely enough, neither does Narencia. Agreeing with Cade once a day is probably more than enough.
Midiriel inhales deeply and nods. "I will make arrangements. It will be done." SHe slips back into that mask of serenity, that hides her true feelings, turning her back to Cade and just communing with her bird.
Cade nods with satisfaction. "Excellent. I'll hang around here until you're ready to move on, then. Do you have a guest room, or will I need to share yours?"
Midiriel's spine stiffens and she turns a dagger-filled look on Cade. "You will find a place out here." Her voice could freeze an eskimo's hiney.
Cade shrugs, looking amused. "If you say so. Won't it be great? The two of us traveling again? Just us. And your maid. And the bird. Do you have any accountants you need to bring?"
Midiriel eyes Cade, "Again? I don't get what you mean." She's still denying it to the hilt.
"The boat," Cade says. "There were others, I think, but I don't know any details."
Midiriel ahs quietly and shrugs. "I've worked hard to eradicate that time from my memory."
"Mistress," Narencia prompts. "Are to be leaving, then?"
"Looks that way," Cade says to Narencia before glancing back to Midiriel and simply smiling.
Midiriel eyes Cade darkly. "If you continue to look at me in that fashion I will find a way to remove your eyes."
Narencia sighs, in a longsuffering manner, and even Eyes of the Wind ducks his head under his wing momentarily.
Cade chuckles softly, getting to his feet. "Well. I'll let you begin wrapping up your affairs. I think I'll go find my dinner."
Midiriel watches Cade, following him til he leaves the house. "I think that would be best."
Back to Campaigns
