It isn’t in the castle, it isn’t in the mist
It’s a calling of the waters as they break to show
The new black death with reactors aglow
You think your security
Can keep you in purity
You will not shake us off
Above or below
Scottish friction, Scottish fiction

Edwin Morgan OBE FRSE (27 April 1920 – 17 August 2010).

The Image

One day I was already old.

In the entrance to the Secret Garden, a young druid came up to me. He introduced himself and said:

“I’ve known you for years, Great Lady. Everyone says you were beautiful when you were young, but I want to tell you I think you’re more beautiful now than then. Rather than your face as a young woman, I prefer your face as it is now.

“Ravaged.”

I often think of the image only I can see now, and of which I’ve never spoken. It’s always there, in the same silence, amazing.

It’s the only image of myself I like, the only one in which I recognise myself, in which I delight. 

Very early in my life it was too late. It was already too late when I was sixteen. Between the ages of sixteen and twenty five I toured the Old Continent on horseback, forever taking off in a new direction, preaching the word of A’nis.

I don’t know if it was the same for all the other adventurers. I’ve never asked. But I believe I’ve heard of the way time can suddenly accelerate on people when they’re going through even the most youthful and highly esteemed stages of life.

My growing up was very sudden. I saw it spreading over my features one by one, changing the relationship between them.

The story of my life doesn’t exist. Does not exist. There’s never any centre to it. No path, no line. There are great spaces where you pretend there used to be someone. But it’s not true. There was no one.

The story of certain parts of my youth, I’ve already written, more or less - I mean, to give a glimpse of it.

But this part, I mean the part which does not exist, is both different and the same.

Before I spoke of clear periods, those on which the light fell. Now I’m talking about the hidden stretches of that same youth, of certain facts, feelings, events I buried.

I started to adventure in surroundings that drove me to reticence. Adventuring was still something moral.

Nowadays it often seems to me that life is a cruel mistress. I have lived a long and happy life, yet I cannot say that it has been complete.

Someone was torn from my life when I was young and I have never recovered from that event.

The image. Of myself and Aerik, High Priest of A'nis.

That image became detached, removed from all the rest.

It might have existed. A painting might have been made, just like any other, somewhere else, in other circumstances.

But it wasn’t.

The subject was too slight. Who would have thought of such a thing?

The painting could only have been painted if someone had known in advance how important it was to be in my life, that event, that final farewell.

But while it was happening, no one else knew of its existence.

Except perhaps my Goddess - A’nis.

And that’s why - it couldn’t have been otherwise - the image doesn’t exist.

It was omitted. Forgotten. It was never detached or removed from all the rest.

And it’s to this, this failure to have been created, that this image owes its virtue: the virtue of representing, of being the creator of, an absolute.

And absolutes, like the story of my life, do not exist!

Pride & Prejudice & Plague

The story of my life started in the sleepy town of Freswichen in the south western corner of the Old Continent. But while starting at the very beginning is always a very good place to start, I must start at the middle.

These are sad days for our sect with our A'nis Chapel having been desecrated, the Tree of Life killed, and Aerik our High Priest and all his Chapel Staff murdered by F'norian demons.

But how did it come to pass that the small and peace-loving A'nis sect, rather than the followers ofthe warlike T'gellenite, God of Fire or whiter-than-white K'norians, became the main target of the wrath of F'nor? The answer is not a simple one, but it involves a powerful F'norian.

Our story starts approximately four years ago, in the plague-devastated town of Cristrin, when the council offered a bounty of 5 oraks for each A'nis worshipper’s head. The reason? It was said that they were responsible for spreading the plague!

However much the A'nis sect may have deplored the despicable way in which most humans treated the Land, we had always tended to try to educate the people, rather than punishing them without allowing them a chance to repent.

No, the plague that spread across the continent several years ago emanated, not from the Sect of A'nis, but from the temple of F'nor close to Cristrin, more specifically from G'orgul’s Demonic Statue. It served the purposes of the F'norians well to spread the rumours that the A'nis sect was responsible. It distracted the forces of Good’s attentions from their own Dark Crusade (the take over of Cas) and preparations for the Moranaria Ritual (the Dark Time).

Indeed, the F'norians almost succeeded in causing a war between the then powerful UNSA organisation and the Fellowship of the New Dawn. This was when a badly researched Fellowship plan to attack the A'nis Chapel and "stop the plague" leaked to the Southern Commander of UNSA. Those were the days when the UNSA-linked HOME Alliance was at loggerheads with the enigmatic F'norbusters alliance who were lobbying the Fellowship of the New Dawn to abandon its attempts to destroy evil and instead join their vendetta against the neutrals. Luckily the Southern Commanders of FND and UNSA were on good terms and conferred. When the UNSA Southern Commander complained to her opposite number that FND was going to attack an innocent sect base that was full of helpless women and children, the T’gellenites dropped immediately their plan to attack the A'nis Chapel. F'norbuster's claims that the Fellowship of the New Dawn was to declare war on UNSA proved to be false, as did the F'norbusters claim that UNSA, Crasimoff and an astoff army were to attack FND! Eventually, the Children of A’nis Liberation Army, became allied with the Fellowship of the New Dawn and even became a part of that renowned alliance.

But that was some time in the future, after the events that I shall describe below. The threat of a war with the T'gellen sect subsided, but still there remained the problems Cristrin offering a bounty for A'nis worshippers’ heads, and the widespread belief that A'nis worshippers were spreading the plague. The plague was spreading rapidly and it seemed likely that the bounty on A'nis worshippers would spread with it unless we did something to clear our name. 

The Attack On The F’norian Depths Temple 

Aerik, High Priest of A'nis, felt that drastic action was necessary, and spoke with the Goddess A'nis. A'nis had been infuriated by F'nor's attempts to blame the Plague on her sect and had decided that nothing less than direct action would suffice. She entrusted a mission to the Gadabouts, who were then the senior A'nis party. It was to attack and destroy the F'norian Temple in the Depths Marshes!

It seemed an impossible task, but we found we had many powerful friends who were willing to help us strike a blow against the F'norians. The attack group, led by the Gadabouts, attracted the participation of amongst others, Ten of Swords, Mordecai's Marauders and a party who were about to join the A'nis sect - my own, the Valkyrian Handmaidens.

The story of the attack is well known. We were the weakest group present and we played no part in the actual fighting - our assigned rôle was to guard the horses. We did however enter the temple to pull out the dead body of one of Mordecai's Marauders who was later resurrected. I will never forget the feeling of extreme evil in that dark and frightening tunnel. The screams of the wounded, the howls of kresh, and the battle cries of the warriors seemed all the more terrible in that horrible place.

Of the battle itself, I need only say that the temple would most likely have fallen if not for the skilled defense by a party originally called Belgariad; a party who K'nor had rejected and who had turned in anger to his brother, F'nor; a party who were later to become more feared than Black Light; a party named Nightwind! Ah, yes, the name "Nightwind" was one which would bring terror to the whole world in the months to come. But, that is another story.....

In the course of the attack, one of Nightwind's top fighters, named Barak, was killed. The loss of this fighter so infuriated the chieftain, Belgarion, King of Madness - indeed an apt epithet - that he swore he would have his revenge on the A'nis sect.

The leaders of the attack were the Gadabouts, a group of A’nis worshippers who wished to show their willingness to help their Goddess. They accepted the task to attack the F’norian Sect base in the Depths Marsh. To aid them in the task they were given a medallion made from a brilliant white metal invested with power. Little did the Gadabouts realise the incridible power which was contained within the artifact. So the quest was born and the Gadabouts travelled north to Cas and waited for allies of thiers who had agreed to help them. Not all these allies were followers of A’nis; some worshipped T’gellen or L’dennon. The force moved esastwards away from town meeting others on the way and a camp was set up where plans were discussed.

The parties assembled included Mordecai’s Maruaders, Cas Crusaders, Temple, Valhallians, 20 of the R-alliance, and ourselves, the Valkyrian Handmaidens. We had been given the task of guarding the horses during the attack! Dawn broke on a cool and breezy day, the day of the attack. We gathered our equipment together and headed off following the glowing light of the medallion which aided us in finding the enetra,nce to the sect base.

Meanwhile, unknown to us, feverish preparations were being made. The Belgariad, now better known as Nightwind, had somehow discovered our plan and warned the F’norian High Priest. They had also agreed to help defend their shrine. Scouts had alerted them of our approaching force and the defences were mobilised. At the mouth of the tunnels in the main cavern, kresh snarled and pulled at the leashes of their handlers while other men, dressed only in black robes stood waiting, unarmed. Mordecai's Marauders entered the tunnels first and started to descend into the sect base. They were soon attacked by eight guards but six of these were killed….

For we A'nis worshippers, it was a time of great celebration. Although the temple had not been destroyed, and the High Priest had escaped, many F'norians and kresh had been killed, prisoners had been rescued and the smear on the name of A'nis had been avenged. Greatly honoured were those who assembled for the prayers to A'nis that night which led by Gadabout's priests.

It was an evening that I will remember for the rest of my days. The main service lasted for about 20 minutes, then, the priestess Retsina, heroine of the battle, held up her shining medallion. Suddenly light began to shoot from the medallion to the top of a small mound. There it collected and formed into a figure, a figure of a young woman. As the light took shape, the we could see the woman more clearly.

She looked about 17 or 18 years old and was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Standing about 5'8" tall, with shoulder-length black hair, she had a well-rounded and beautifully proportioned body. She wore a brilliant white dress to just below the knee and a cloak made of many sorts of leaves, from young green leaves at the top to old, golden brown ones at the bottom. On her head was a garland made of exotically coloured flowers, and her outline was blurred due to the bright light behind her.

It was the Goddess A'nis who stood before us!

I held my breath in awe as she began to speak to us.

"My Children, I asked of you an impossible mission for a party of adventurers, but with courage, and help from others of the same religion and some of others" here she looked at White Knights, Valhallians, and Cas Crusaders, "all be them destroyers of plant life, you triumphed and scored a great victory for the forces of Nature. I am pleased. Unfortunately, you will have brought the wrath of F'norians all over the world upon yourselves. I advise you to leave the area as fast as possible and find a safe place. My Chapel in the Ents is open to you all, and it may need your help if the F'norians plan a revenge attack. "I am sorry some of you had to die and I feel the pain of your wounds. Unfortunately, I am powerless to intervene. Go to the Chapel and they will help. "Some advice for you all, watch your backs always as you never know when they will pounce. They also know who some of you are. "BLESS YOU ALL!"

The image then faded and disappeared, and Retsina's medallion became dull again. I stood still, overwhelmed and unable to speak for quite some time. I still feel totally overwhelmed by the events of that day - there can be few priestesses who have had the honour to meet their God in person!

Our journey back to the A'nis Chapel was filled with excitement too. One of our mages had fallen in love with Ythek, a fighter from Ten of Swords, and had decided to spend her life with him. So we travelled with them to Cas, to make the parting a little easier.

There we found that the FNLA had taken over the town! At first I was worried to be so close to our enemies. However, their organisation was so inefficient that we were able to rest for a few days in the Cas Inns before returning to the Chapel. 

The First Attack On The A’nis Chapel 

The expected attack on the Chapel did occur, but not for some time after.

The details were reported in the FoF Newsletter and are well known.

For the F'norians, the attack was considered to be a disaster. The Chapel was fiercly defended and many F'norians were killed, including the great demon Barak, and two members of Nightwind.

Aerik, our High Priest, was the hero of the fight - as a great werebear, he fought with the F'norians to preserve the Tree of Life.

Though Aerik was almost killed, he succeeded, and the F'norians retreated in disarray.

But the victory for our sect was overshadowed by other events - for by then Nightwind had unleashed the Moranaria upon an unbelieving world.

It was indeed a Dark Time for us all.

To be continued.