A Meditation for The Order of Fenris

As midday approached, I headed back to the wolf camp. The gate guards informed me all was well and the morning had been quiet, it was good to hear and a welcome contrast to the battle on Friday evening. We had lost some devoted souls during the battle. One group who had suffered losses was the Order of Fenris. My mind was still set in remembrance and respect from my work earlier in the day and I decided to sit and sketch their camp while I spared the fallen brothers time and thought (as I did for Jacob of the Bees)

Beyond the fence the rest of the Order were getting ready for their day, it was good to hear their calls and banter. It reminds me to sharpen my healing arts to help those who stand in the front line.

A Meditation for Hunter

On the Friday of the moot my friend Hunter of the Storm Ravens was killed while performing a ritual. I had not known Hunter for long, but a shared enjoyment of cold beer and a laugh made the short while I had known him seem much longer. I know little of rituals but was grateful for investigations and explanations from Snowy McTaff and Sunspark. I am now a little more enlightened as to the risks ritualises take and the heavy price for any mistakes.

Despite the splendour, I was not in the mood to sketch the Eye of the Dragon on the Saturday, but felt more comfortable on the Sunday studying and sketching the ritual circle. As I sketched my thoughts were with Hunter, the world is a poorer place for his passing.

A Home in The Harts

Climbing one of the hills overlooking the moot field I began to pass by the Harts camp. I was tempted to sketch the gate with its flags and view of the command tent until I saw two tents sited toward the back of their camp. Not wishing to intrude I sat outside the faction wards and sketched from the open field. A wooden door formed the frontage to a yurt like tent while the ends of the rafters of the neighbouring ridge tent were adorned with a horse head style crest. Sadly I could not see anyone to speak with to find out who were the owners of the tents, but should I pass by in future I will make a point of saying hello.

The Dragons Command

On Sunday morning I found my travels taking me by the Dragons camp. At such an early hour the camp was all quiet save for the sounds of flags fluttering in the breeze. Two marquees stood facing the gate framed by the mature trees behind them. With the quiet, the breeze and the gentle sunlight as my companions I settled down to sketch.

Campaign Home for The Children of the Hunt

With the mornings rain beginning to fade and the sun gaining strength I strolled back to my faction. Standing just outside the canopy of a sweet chestnut tree stood the bell tent of The Children of the Hunt. Well used and travel worn it looked as if it had provided shelter for many years but was still sturdy and well capable of granting sanctuary from the elements. Sadly, The Children of the Hunt were not at home at the time I was sketching, introductions would have to wait for another time.

Elf & Safety

Some things just make you smile!

The Dragon Shrine

As the rain outside slowed to a gentle patter I wandered the areas near the ritual circle, at the heart was a shrine festooned with skulls, coins, symbols and crafted objects. Coins had been placed within the eye sockets of the skulls reflecting light and giving a hint of movement to the long dead bones. A dragons skull lay close to the centre of the shrine and it seemed fitting to sketch in such a place.

The Skull & Helm

Taking shelter from the early morning rain I found myself amongst the work of archaeologists in a room close to the Eye of the Dragon ritual circle. Items around me were carefully tagged and presented with notes requesting they were not to be moved. Sitting on a plinth beside them was a helm with a skull still in place. Striking and poignant I settled down to sketch the scene accompanied only be the sounds of the rainfall outside.