The large flames of the festive bonfire were lit for everyone around the feasting area. Merriments were being had by all in attendance. The Guests of Honor, Alana, and Godrick, sat to the left and right of chieftain Barnas and his wife Ingrid. As kin, Alana sat to his right, conversing with her old friend Orvos. They admired the view of other attendees and the traditional plant and floral decorations of the north. Godrick sat next to Ingrid, being the benefactor that would bring a new thriving business to the town he had earned the right to sit with the leaders of the town while feasting.
The three other clan heads chose to sit next to the pilgrim as they enjoyed the sumptuous meal of delicacies at the joined tables. Krael Kaftan sat immediately to the left of Godrick. He was the representative of the other clans in Slatvia, second in leadership only to Barnas Skrol. His goal was to enter the business talks the pilgrim had brought for the benefit of the town, and bring profits to the lesser clans.
"We deal with the caravaning, the ancillary defenses of the guard, and the management of the farmlands. It would be a boon ta partner with us as well. Mighty fortunes could be had if ya shared in welcoming us in yer deals with the Skrol." Krael said as he raised the silver goblet of wine above his blonde hair, his diction hinted at further support and safe passage.
"Certainly worth considering Clan head. But I consider myself uninterested in material wealth, and so I must refuse for now. My current deal with your Chieftain is sufficient enough for my interests." Godrick replied professionally raising his own silver vessel and clinking the other's goblet.
A straight refusal would offend the other party. So he reminded them of their fealty, a necessary action to hold the greed forming in his eye. The open-ended refusal left the other party content that further negotiations could be held at a later date.
"Might there be something else ta share then? Another gain of capital ta support yer ventures 'ere?" Sipping the red wine Krael hinted suggestively with a raised brow of a darker blonde tone.
"Now, now, Krael." Ingrid intervened in the conversation from the side.
"Our Guest has had quite a long journey. Leave the business talks for later, and allow him to enjoy our Northern hospitality." She looked at Godrick with her green eyes as he locked gazes with her, thanking her wordlessly for the intervention.
"Ah yes you are right, my manners seem ta lack from this wonderful Ambrosia." The truth of his statement could be seen from the reddening of his nose and cheeks, and another far of sight drew his attention.
"I see my missus coming as well, I must excuse myself,' He rose from his seat while nodding towards Godrick.
"Godrick; pleasure ta have met ya. But the night calls on me ta celebrate haha." Leaving the table he met up with the black-haired beauty who immediately clasped onto his arm pressing herself in provocation to his body.
"My thanks, my lady." Godrick leaned his head forward in a bow, his long brown hair aligning itself with his posture.
"A pleasure, and please? Call me Ingrid." She replied cheering his cup with her golden one.
"Of course Lady Ingrid." Still courteous he refused to break full etiquette.
"The night is vibrant so go on and join in. As ya can see Lannie's Already out and about mingling with that Orvos. He seems to be swooning over her. What a lackluster competitor eh?" She said suggestively to him, then turned back to face her husband, drawn in by his laughter.
A line of civilians had formed to Barnas, wishing to swear their fealty through citizenship for the Chief who would make this town prosper even more than it already did. The bands of fealty had been brought out; whosoever took their oaths would be bound by duty and honor once the bands had been entrusted to them. Observing them Godrick could see that they were made skillfully by manipulating a long one-inch-width strip of alloyed silver mixed with specks or flakes of gold that added a shine to them.
Unsure of his status, the anxiety was slowly building up within him so he excused himself from the table; mingling through the dancing and drunken crowd. He found a lamp post decorated with festive bush briar to rest against while standing. A fleurel came up to his mouth and he lit it with a finger as he inhaled.
Squeals of laughter could be heard from a bush at the side, excitement coming from it in fits of curious wonderment. Six children of varying hair colors popped out of the bush; brown, blonde, red, and black. They wore a wonder in their eyes while approaching Godrick timidly. The bravest amongst them spoke up.
"Sirs, tha' was 'mazing. Fire came on up from ya fingers, can ya please do it again? Pleaaaassseee!!!" His final words were joined by the other children, each one giving him a look of absolute yearning.
Hopeful blue, green, and brown eyes assaulted his sense of sight, the sheer cuteness of them forcing Godrick to comply with their request.
"Hahaha of course my childer. Tis, a request I can most certainly acquiesce to." Placing the butt of his fleurel to his lips he began casting.
Still able to articulate his desired words he made the proper gestures with his hands and said "Fire" in the unintelligible words of the Primect and both of his hands came up in flames.
'Wooow awesome." "Amazing." "Cool." "Hahaha flame hands yay." The children squealed in joy at the performance and music soon started to follow Godrick's movements.
Looking at the source he noticed that the hired Skald of the Feast was now next to him. He had been introduced to Godrick as Memsir Canoot, Skald of Easthaven. Memsir looked and him as he played, hinting at him to follow along.
"Come now my good Sir Godrick." Memsir requested.
"I know, by fate or chance, that all you priests are trained in rites from songs of wind, light, and seas. I implore you in hymn, to come forth and reveal a proper stance, rhythm to beat—grant us an imperial jig." A magical melody was coming from his hands as he danced and strummed the strings of his lute in a masterful way that drew the attention of those near.
A crowd had gathered around them, and now Godrick's nervousness was nearing a fatal point. His fleurel ashed down quickly as he took in an inhale that forced him into a cough. Reddened in his eyes he managed to make out Alana's laughing form who was rubbing a tear from her left cheek. Rising him from his uncomposed state she said.
"Worry not my friend the night is ours come. Light yer hands and dance with me. Do not touch but follow my lead hahahaha." Her drunkenness could be smelled through her breath but it did not bother him and somehow her addled mind had improved her speech patterns.
She moved with grace and beauty with a dance known to her people as the 'Valkyre's ascent'. For a second, Godrick considered not joining and running away from embarrassment. But with his own altered state, he felt looser from the heavy intake of the high, his medicinal item had induced.
He joined her in dance, hands flaming up and blue robes accentuating his movements in the beats of his rhythm, he synced with music and beauty. There was no dance he knew to which he could properly join her with, a dance of her culture was impossible as he was not of theirs. So instead he chose one of the four dances to the Elements that he knew from, 'Waves of the Storm'.
With heavy and powerful movements he joined his fiery-haired companion in a celebration to themselves. His blue acted in contrast with her red. Nimble and elegant in her form Godrick followed with his powerful and rhythmic movements. Flaming hands contouring Alana's red hair, he followed her and missed in purposeful unity to the melody of the Skald's tune.
All was well, laughter with joy, and merriment were had by all. Eating, drinking, singing, and dancing brought happiness to the friends, and family in reunion. Godrick and Alana wished that this night could continue on endlessly as they enjoyed themselves to the mystical composition Memsir had brought to the night.
Not one resident of Slatvia had chosen to remain uninvited, not once word of the feast had spread. So the only ones not in attendance were those serving their duty faithfully at the gates and walls of the town. Many of them could hear the ongoing festivities. But a sense of worry and urgency had come over them when the forms of hated enemies appeared in the far-off distance to the town. The shining moonlight of Vespera and Ixis illuminated their forms clearly for all to see.
"Enemies!" Shouted a young guard he was quick in his actions and even faster on his legs.
He abandoned his post in a hurry, speeding through the crowd and straight to Chieftain Barnas who had finished the fealties of his civilians. He was clapping jovially while red in the face and with a burning nose to match. The Guard approached him down on one knee reporting to his chief. Barnas heard his every word past the celebrating crowd the serious air of his guard transferring to him.
Soberness broke his addled mind while his eyes cleared up. A heavy frown came onto his now somber face. He sped to the Skald and plucked the stringed instrument from his hand. The melody interrupted the dancing and the crowd searched for the reason why it had ceased. Their eyes landed on the grim-faced chieftain holding the skald's lute, his words clearing the minds of all who had enjoyed the festivities.
"Everyone to Arms! We are under attack! Ape men are at our Walls!" His Proclamation brought an end to all who sought the night's joy.
With their chieftain's proclamation, the crowd stood silent. Alana was one of the first to hold up his call.
"An end to the night's celebrations." Still drunk her usual grin came to with the unhinge-ness so common to her.
"This Berserker of the Clan responds to the clan's call, as this battle is my calling." Looking at Godrick she gave him a small nod and left running towards the gates. She was displaying a speed he had not seen her use before.
"The clan thanks ye kin," Barnas replied in a low tone still heard by those around him.
"My kin heads to battle. A Legend of our culture could be made by joining onto the fray, I ask you all my citizens; newly appointed and all, from Fleid-gers to Huscarls. To come with me to arms, tonight's celebrations are still not at an end!" His every word clung to the worrying and fascinated faces of his people.
"I ask ye to join with me in conflict against the savages of our once past! Come with and join me in their slaughter! Hahaha." Their resemblance was clear but his charisma emboldened the clansmen and women.
Spears were raised, axes unhooked and swords unsheathed. United the citizens shouted in defense of their home. "FOR SLATVIA!!!"
"Then onwards my clan and citizens to battle we head!" Barnas shouted and they all heard him. In kind, they responded to his order running in a disorderly march to the town's defense.
Godrick saw the scene and was beyond words, the entire town militia had reacted in unison against the threat and violence was assured through the Frenzy that Barnas had cast upon them. He looked next to him and saw that the Skald, Memsir had shifted the tune once more. A rhythm of violence was spelled out through his lute once the chief had given it back to him it was violent and disruptive clearing doubt from the minds of the warriors that moved forward. Drums joined in percussion to the strings that enraptured the citizens' minds.
Approaching him Barnas asked Godrick, "My Guest I ask ya to take shelter. This is a battle concerning us residents of the town. My halls are open to ya so take my warning this is not yer fight."
His determination could be seen through his demeanor as he ordered the pilgrim away from the conflict. Godrick's response, however; made Barnas's opinion of him rise.
"My companion joins the fight, and you my patron are caring to my well-being. While conflict is not in my interest, healing will be required for any of the wounded. I may no longer have the potency of a priest but know that my magic will be in support of your town. I am yours to command whether battle or mending; my magic will be yours for the night chief." Godrick would not shy away from conflict any longer, at the very least, attacking beasts would not haunt his sleep as the taking of a human life would.
"Haha, gods damnit 'Lannie ya brought on a good one." The chief graced him with a smile of ambivalence at his words, conflicted but liking the mage more and more.
He whistled to an armsman who was equipping the civilians that would fight only when danger came near them. They all sported ferocious grins of violence. The armsman grabbed the metal-shafted staff that Barnas pointed at and threw it to the chief who grabbed it seamlessly from the air.
"Very well then, take this weapon." He said handing the staff to Godrick.
"No need to fight with it, I know ye mages are weak when it comes ta arms, but no matter. Should yer magic fail ya from the strength ye wasted on them barrels, know that Slatvian craftsmanship will hold so long as ya can."
Facing the diminishing crowd of warriors that headed to battle, Barnas said, "Another feast awaits us," He looked towards Godrick with the madness of his family radiating through his usual feral grin. It was as if a fire had lit in the non-burning yet kindled eyes of the Chieftain. "The blood of our enemies will fill the vessels drained to slake our thirst, ahahaha!"
Joined by the entourage of Huscarls so diligent in their duties they headed off to fight.