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Sweety Bud
61fa90
Based on what this man has conveyed to me, I am inclined to assume that he and his rather numerous companions have been accosted by some shrubbery recently. I am not quite certain if he has concluded his show yet, so I simply wait. There is a silence as the man allows the grass to drop from his neck. Much of it reunites with the ground, but a few blades manage to catch on his sash. He does not continue with his charades, and instead stares at me for a moment.
The man breaks from his short trance and holds outs a palm whilst pressing the other to his chest and saying, "Egil."
I smile; I believe that he is introducing himself.
"Temper," I say. Being only a very recent acquaintance, I reveal to him only my alias. I take hold of his hand with my own, and he closes his other hand around it. He raises my hand, clasped between his hands, over his own bowed head.
He disengages from the ritual and turns to head back to the gathering of people, beckoning for me to follow. I do not believe that any harm could come of it, so I follow.
The group, composed primarily of relatively young men and women, seems to have been on some manner of pilgrimage before they stopped in the forest; at least, this is what I assume as I see them gathered into circles around two carts piled up with boxes and cloth. I also see a cage in one of the carts, large enough to fit a cat, but it is empty, and the bars seem to have been warped.
Egil shouts something to the pilgrims, who all turn their heads to us. Egil gestures to me and says something more; I believe that I hear, "Temper," somewhere in his statement. The pilgrims all abandon their conversations and come to gather around me. Egil attempts to shout over the commotion as, the pilgrims perform with me the same greeting ritual that Egil did, in procession. One of the pilgrims, an older man, seems to confer upon me some manner of blessing. In any case, by the time the last pilgrim has released my hand, I cannot help but feel exhausted.
With introductions out of the way, the pilgrims return to their conversations. They have not much time, though, as one of them shouts out while holding up a container filled with a steaming stew. Apparently, someone has been preparing lunch somewhere where I could not see them. Discussions once again abandoned, the pilgrims fetch bowls and spoons from their supplies and flock to the stew. There is mild chaos as cups and a flask of some drink is passed through the small crowd, and the situation is only aggravated by the arrival of two more pilgrims on two Draebhunds. The pilgrims are both significantly more armed and armored than the others.
The armed pilgrims dismount, and the some of the others gather around the two and commence with causing a great din. One of the armed pilgrims silences them, however, by yelling out a word that I can only assume to mean, "Silence!" and heaving from one of her mount's bags a large stone with writing carved into it.
Eventually, the two Draebhunds are taken elsewhere in the forest by some of the pilgrims; I assume that it was to a river so that the beasts may drink. The rest of the pilgrims are sat in a large circle around the stone, contemplating what it may mean as they have their stew. I find myself sitting as part of the ring, Egil to my left, while one of the armed individuals stands to my right. Finally able to examine the rock without a crowd of people blocking my view, I see that the writing etched on the stone is actually Runic.
It reads, "And unto the wretched who would dare defile this hallowed ground with their corporeal presence, unclean and unfit: May The One True God Almighty uncover those wretched, and may those wretched fall out of His Divine Countenance, so that He may, in His Infallible Divine Wisdom, deem it punishment justified to smite those wretched and strip them of their corporeal forms and banish them unto"
The stone seems to be only a fragment of something much larger. Looking around at the others, some staring at the stone in deep contemplation as the rest contemplate their food, I draw the conclusion that I am the only individual present who understands what the rock says. It takes a moment for me to realize that Egil is offering me a bowl of stew. I cannot exactly say that the aroma entices me.
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