I think it needs to be noted that as a worshipper of Gaea I don’t believe that everything has a purpose. When a wheel breaks on your ox cart it is not because your deity wished it so. It is most likely because the wheel is old and you drove the cart over something you should not have.
However there are some happenings that the gods are responsible for. Why they meddle and when is something I believe nobody can truly know. Although we can hope our deity is listening to our pleas and dropping luck our way.
When my father was eaten by wolves I felt angry, hurt, frightened and betrayed. I became very serious about my practice with spear and scimitar. I was only eleven and it was three years before I felt I had the strength and skill to start the hunt. I recruited three warriors from Ferrett Hold and I must admit I did so without alerting my mother. She thought I was just in town for regular weapons training.
The warriors and I went up into the hills hunting wolves. It was the first time I was allowed to wear war-woad markings. They taught me how to charge fearlessly into a battle with the single focus of devastating the enemy. Although I doubt we found the exact wolf that killed my father we did slay 11 wolves from two packs over the next two days.
I was given my equal share of the pelts and felt a warrior when I returned to town. Mother was angry and said that both revenge was futile and killing wolves was like killing the children of Gaea. She may have been right but I felt father’s death justified the retribution.
One of the warriors that was on the hunt offered to make me hide armor from my wolf pelts in exchange for three months of labor. I readily agreed and as I’ve grown I have had this same hide armor altered to fit even though that required additional wolf hunts.
When mother died three years ago fighting Brutes she asked me not to strike back in vengeance. At the time all I wanted to do was hunt them but I promised her I would do as she wished. Since that day I have also stopped hunting wolves except on my father’s death-day each year.
Today all these memories are haunting me. I have not fought nor slain any Brutes nor Brutekin since my mother died. Now I hear that a band of Brutes has attacked the very same inquisition raid that had captured Fiona and her circle. I cannot but wonder if these Brutes are the same that had attacked Ferrett Hold. I cannot but wonder if I had hunted down Brutes those three years ago would the inquisition have succeeded in taking my captured friends to their dungeons. Would the fate of my friends be worse or better with Brutes than with Inquisitors?
I do not know the answers. I have been praying to The Goddess for Fiona’s safety. Maybe my prayer’s were answered. Maybe Fiona escaped or is held by the Brutes and there is still time to rescue her. I do not know but I will find out!
As luck would have it Nicola from Ferrett Hold is here in Fallowdown and she’s agreed to help me as well as some strange Noblesse named Tavol. An even stranger archer named Jacob Blanchardt offered to help once he heard my dire tale of needing to rescue my “cousin”. Perchance a man named Fletcher may also join us in this trip northward to Sheppard’s Rest.
Only when alone or while fighting beside my Cael clansmen have I ever asserted the druidic powers granted me by Gaea. Although these few strangers have offered me aid I must remember not to let them know of my druidic nature lest they turn me over to the inquisition.
If we can rescue Fiona I will be overjoyed. The Goddess grants me abilities and therefore I hope she has mercy both on my heart and on my friends so I can rescue them in time. In my Mother’s memory I will do all I can to free Fiona without undue death upon the Brutes. However… if they have already harmed Fiona then the slaughter of the wolf-hunt will be like a spring day compared to the wrath of the winter’s storm I shall rain upon two generations of Brutes.