The hug was solid, and the sentiment strong.  I hugged back for all I was worth not even fearing that I would crush her elven body.  Then it was over and I watched her walking away.  Walking back to where that awful event had occurred. On a quest, without me, to find her fathers sword.  She had just recently found out about the terrible events surrounding her youth.  The magical touch from the smith’s sword had brought the memories back of a ferocious battle. Gnolls had attacked her family, traveling on a religious quest.  Her parents had been killed and only she survived, found by my father.

 

I waved once again, just from my sense of pride, knowing that she didn’t see.  Off on another quest, I knew I would see her again.  I also knew she would complete what she set out to do. She had always been strong, no matter what obstacles she faced.  That was never more to the point then now.  Here in the land of Dwarves and Elves I stood at the end of her or should I say our Quest.  It seemed just like the other day when Father had brought a small elven child into our home.  Dirty and hungry. No parents. Near shock. As my memory lapsed back to my own history it flashed in my mind the story needing to be told again, of the event leading up to that day.....

 

The Cerridwen’s, a powerful family in the land of the barbarians, had a daughter.  Powerful indeed for Fathers ancestors had even served on the Tribunal.  How the whole village celebrated the arrival of another Cerridwen.  Mother and Father showing off their newborn child Vixerean in front of the festival honoring her.  “Another Shaman in the house of Cerridwen!”  shouted a villager. “May your family know happiness and health!” toasted another.  This went on for hours, as was the custom for new arrivals of a Tribunal Family to be welcomed into the Village.  Many stories told and stout brews shared by all, thus was the way of the Barbarians.

 

Many years had passed. I had been intent on learning about my ancestors, the way of the Shaman, and how to serve our village.  Many books had I read, many lessons learned from my father and mother about how to be a shaman, what potions to brew, what spells to cast.  Ever learning, getting prepared, for Father was to take me on a hunting trip, my first hunting trip.  I was very excited.  This meant I was growing up and would earn my place in the village.  I didn’t want the name Cerridwen to earn it for me. I awoke that morning checking the contents of my pack.  I knew everything was there; I had packed and repacked it over the past week when Father told me of his plans to take me hunting. “Vix” I heard my mother boom. “Please come here”.  Odd why was mother calling me?  “Yes?”  I said approaching mother in her usual spot over a roaring fire in the kitchen.  “Your father had to leave on a trip for the Tribunal.  He regrets not waking you or taking you along.  Tribunal business demands much; your father feared it was not a place for you.  Please go to the village baker, get 2 loaves of bread and return here at once.  A storm approaches and we must be prepared.”  She finished by handing me 3 silver coins.  I was sad that my hunting trip would have to wait but very curious to what the Tribunal had sent for my father for.  Everyone in the village seemed to be preparing for yet another storm in their usual manner.  Tending to the livestock, getting supplies, fastening windows.  I arrived at the bakers bought the bread needed and returned home and waited for fathers return.  That night the storm struck with a fury.  Snow blew and piled in front of the door and windows. All night the wind whistled through the village. But still no sign of father.

 

Morning came, the storm passed, leaving great drifts of snow throughout the village. Mother and I set out to clear a safe passage to out home and tended the animals.  We both seemed to sense each other’s concern for father as we fed the stock and gathered wood into the house.  Father had done theses chores so often it seemed they performed themselves until now.  We finished bringing the last load of wood into the house and mother settled into her usual spot by the fire, stirring a large pot of stew hanging over the fire, It smell seemed to form a aura of happiness through our home.  It was my thought that mother had mixed one of her special potions and had placed a few drops into the stew to help the mood of the home.  All day and night passed once again without a sign of Father.  I stayed up as late as I could manage.  Asking mother to tell me story after story.  She finally smiled, looked into the fire and then back at me, her face glowing with no sign of worry.  “Off to bed.  Everything will turn out.  No more stories.  Sleep is what ye need.” She said in a calm voice. “Off with yea Vixerean, get some sleep.  Your Father will return when he is finished.”  I reluctantly made my way to my blanket and forced myself to sleep, dreaming of the stories mother had told me.

 

Another morning and another day of chores.  “Ha” I thought. Grand Shamans we are tending to animals and gathering wood.  What I wanted was a battle.  One like those heard in the many stories told to me. I threw the last load of wood down hard. Gaining the attention of mother. “Vix, you be careful now!  Get control of that temper of yours.” She bellowed.  We could both tell that we were concerned at the time it was taking father to return.  “Where is he mother?  What business has the Tribunal with him?”  I shouted.  “Ye not be talking to me that way Vix, and hush the Tribunal, they be having ears everywhere!”  bellowed mother.  “He will be home soon.  Now practice your potions there.”  Potions what need have I for potions? I thought.  I wanted father home, home safe and telling me what the Tribunal had asked him to do, where he had gone. I wished to hear a new tale.

 

Suddenly a faint sound caught my ears.  The soft compression of snow beneath ones foot, outside our door.  Father!  He must be home.  I rushed to the door and opened it to reveal Father standing there holding a small bundle in his arms.  I helped with his pack and to brush the snow from his back, him never letting go of the bundle.  “Mother!  Father is home!” I yelled as she came in from the kitchen.  “What have you got their Father?” I asked.  He sat in his chair and unwrapped a small child, an elven child.  Mother and I staring at it like a wild beast.  Father taking his gaze from mother and I to look down upon the child and said, “This child I found in the wood.  Her parents are gone and she is far from her lands.  I have told her she will stay with us and be a part of our family.  I have already gained the approval from the Tribunal and we will accept her into our village.  She requires rest and food.  Vixerean you will be responsible for her health and well-being and help in her training of our ways. She will be your sister from this day forth.  Protect her should she require it as if she were blood.  Do you understand?” he completed. “Yes” I stated not having any idea what this simple answer would later bring.

Mother smiled at father and they instantly admired me with pride, for they knew it seemed, more than I what this chore would be .

 

I took my new sisters hand and led her to the kitchen to feed and clean her. Leaving Father and Mother to talk.  “My name is Vixerean Cerridwen. What is your name elf?”  “Vizviz” she said in between gulps of stew.  “Your father found me in the wood beyond the mountains, He is most kind for taking me in. “How did you come to be far from home?” I asked.  “ I do not know” Your father found me near death, I believed to be dead and traveling to the afterlife when he picked me up and carried me here.  It seems that knowledge is lost to me”

 

Viz and I grew up together from that night on.  Me proving to the village who I was and Vizviz proving that she could be an asset to the village.  We were scorned at first for taking in a Wood Elf but Viz proved herself time and time again to be of great help. Viz seemed to sense what people required of her and went at it with a passion that only a barbarian could match.

 

The afternoon the Traveler arrived proved even more how much we thought alike.  The traveler coming into the village bloodied from battle and weary from travel approached our village.  We both agreed that this small dwarf required help and quickly asked father for permission to assist him.  Father agreed and we showed the Traveler inside our home.  Much to our delight the Traveler shared a story of a great battle between a Knight and a Cowardly Dragon that had slaughtered the Knights followers.  The story went on, all of us listening with great attention to all the details the Traveler was able to give.  When the story was nearing its end he told of a sword and its gift of memory bestowed upon a smith that had arrived on the place of the battle a hundred years prior.  I saw Viz’s eyes flash with curiosity.  The Traveler revealed that he was the brother of the sword finding smith and showed the Brand, to which his clan now bore. He also asked of Viz’s history of joining the family and suggested that the sword might help her. 

 

From that day on nothing meant more to Vizviz and I then to prove our worth to the Tribunal.  The coming of age was soon approaching and we had to gain approval to journey to the Dwarf’s land.  To fulfill her quest.  To gain her memory.  To touch the sword.  We trained long and hard until the day had come.  The Day of Age had arrived.  Our task: To journey to the lands of Permafrost and bring back proof of our journey there, the heads of goblins that resided there deep within the cave.  It was to be a grand journey.

 

As we approached the cavern of Permafrost a small band of travelers had set up camp just inside the cavern, their faint fire flickering off the walls and snow.  As we approached we noticed a mixture of races, including the newly discovered race the Vah Shir; which intrigued Vizviz and I.  Father had shown us maps of all the lands, but had only recently mentioned of a land that had been found on one of our moons, only accessed by Wizard Spires located far from our village. We approached this band of hunters knowing we had nothing to fear, for anyone helping us rid the lands of goblins was thought of well in our village.  We were asked to join their group’s hunting trip inside the cave.  We explained our desire to bring back many goblin heads as tribute to our Tribunal.  As we sat around the fire sharing stories of battle and life we learned that this group was part of the Branded clan that the Traveler had mentioned.  We revealed our goal of eventually traveling to the dwarf lands to see if the sword would help Vizviz regain her lost memories.  We were encouraged to complete the sword quest and that they would help with the goblin hunt. As stories were told I noticed an Elf sitting across the fire from me was staring into my eyes. An instant attraction could be felt between us.  I had never felt this feeling towards another. A desire to learn more about another instantly transmitted in a look into ones eyes.  He never spoke and continued to occasionally look in my direction catching my eyes several more times.

 

The leader of the group stood up causing the entire group to stand breaking my eye contact with this mysterious stranger.  “To the Hunt!”  He shouted. His group following him into battle as we went deeper into the cavern.  Slashing steel and the cries of goblins echoed off the cavern walls as we turned the ice red with the slaughter of many goblins.  We reveled in the battle, I casting my old learned families healing spells and Viz bringing her Mace upon any foe that dare harm me while chanting my spells. We battled long into the day and night. Vizviz assisting me in handing out healing and essence building potions to the group, and on several occasions, even surprising the group by jumping into the thick of battle to assist the battlers with a goblin wizard about to cast a death blow to one of their party. We finished killing all the goblins within the cavern, their flags blowing in the wind of their screams of horror as the small band of hunters had destroyed them all.  The flags were cut down and each of us were handed a flag to take back to the Tribunal. A thank you, by the leader, in helping them meet their goal of defeating the goblins. Viz and I knowing that only the bravest of warrior had ever battled this deeply within the cavern at our age.  We gathered our loot and packed what goblin heads we could carry and bid our new found friends good-bye. Each of us knowing we would see each other again.   I swung the bag over my shoulder full of the loot we had help gather when I caught a look at the Wood Elf again. Our eyes meet once more before I turned to catch up to Viz already carrying more than she should off into the desert of snow back to our village.

 

We arrived in our village and were led to the Tribunal hall that awaited us.  My sister and I revealed the loot and goblin heads we had gathered.  As we each took turns telling of our meeting of the traveling hunters and how deeply into the cavern we had traveled. We each unfolded the Goblin flags we had gotten.  Great smiles of pride looked down upon us from the Tribunal as well as from the crowd that had surrounded the hall.  We completed the telling of our hunt and knelt before the Tribunal for judgment.

 

The Tribunal members talked amongst each other and finally spoke to the hushed crowd. 

“Vixerean Cerridwen, You have proved your worth to this village and to your heart that you are a true Barbarian!  You have our permission to go forth on whatever quest you desire. Remembering always where you are from and that you need return to share your knowledge of your battles.  Go forth and let all know the Vixerean Cerridwen resides in this village!”

The crowd gathered boomed with applause as I had completed my task with honor.  But what of Vizviz?  Had she?

“Vizviz Vizziv.  You have proved your worth to this village and to all, that even though you are a Wood Elf a Barbarian heart lies within! You have the Tribunals permission to go forth on the quest you so desire.  Remembering as well that we wish to here of you quests completion and tale upon your return to Your Village here.  Go with the blessings of the Tribunal.  Again the crowd roared with approval the shouts of Vixerean and Vizviz being shouted into the night as a grand feast was held in the town square to honor us.

 

Everyone knew of Viz’s quest by morning and I swearing to accompany her as part of my quest to assist her.  We packed our gear for what would be many moons of travel.  Weapons, Potion supplies, and Food.  Father opened the huge trunk beside his chair and retrieved a tattered map and handed it to Viz.  He spoke the directions that the traveler had given and then turned to hand me a sack of coins. “You will need this for your journey” he said with compassion in his voice “It is to help you buy supplies and passage on a sailing vessel across the Ocean of Tears” We both turned to face Father as he continued, “Please remember to always fight with honor and courage and know that you will be missed until your return” He continued with his fatherly instructions of safety and wisdom and gave us each a pat on the head. “Go complete your quest.  I expect a grand story when you return.” And with that Viz and I gathered our packs and set off for the Land of the Dwarves and a world of adventure.

 

“One last thing?”  Father asked,  “I have noticed that your journey will take you close to Lake Rathetear.  The Tribunal wishes you take this supply of herbs and potions to the Barbarian village that is there.  You should find it here”, as he pointed to the location on the map, “They are in need of them and the Tribunal wishes it so.”  “Of course Father, we will be happy to abide by the Tribunals wishes,” I said.  As we walked out of sight of our village Viz and I looking at each other we knew that we would return.

 

We journeyed for weeks following the directions on the map to Lake Rathe.  As we arrived in the village, weary from our many battles, we were greeted by a humble group of fisherman.  Eager to help, they welcomed me into their home, but gave Vizviz a slight look of distaste until she produced the symbol of the Tribunal that we were given.  We were soon shown to a table and fed and were allowed to rest.  The next morning we learned of a great fighting arena near the village and were curious to explore.  We gathered our belongings and thanked all for their hospitality, we were once again thanked for the delivery of the much needed potions and herbs and waved luck on our journey.

 

We arrived at the Arena and both stood in awe of the massive stone walls surrounding the fighting area.  It was explained that the high walls were needed to protect the competitors waiting their turn to fight for powerful magic’s were allowed in this arena. This was all new to Viz and I. Neither of us using much magic while fighting each other in practice but only against our foes.  How would we be able to fight against such odds?  As we gazed upon the doors to the main arena my eye caught site of the brave Wood Elf that had stared at me from across the fire so long ago. He turned and our eyes met, that same spark drawing us together. “Come on” I grabbed Vizviz’s arm and pulled her towards the group that we had fought with in the cavern.  We renewed our friendships and told of our battles to reach the Arena.

 

His name was Rusko Elvenwood and he was indeed a brave and powerful Ranger.  He finally spoke to me telling me of his name, family, and his desire to see me again.  I was shocked when he invited me to battle him in the Arena. “I am not one to battle a friend fair Elf, I would prefer to heal and use my knowledge to help others, not to battle”. He was very persuasive so with much uncertainty I agreed to a fight.  I can still hear Vizviz saying.  “You are a Barbarian Shaman!  What have you to fear from a mere Ranger?”  As we started our battle, me using my teachings and going over in my head what ideas Viz had planted there before our battle, people gathered around to see us fight.  Magically protected by the Arena from death we went at each other, spells crashing into each other, roots entwining my feet, the swift blows from his swords.  I finally collapsed to the ground to weak to move anymore.  He walked over and helped me up and led me out of the Arena to a place beside their groups fire to recover. “Here drink this” Vizviz said as she thrust a vial of healing potion into my hands.  She looked up into the eyes of the Ranger “I will battle you Ranger.  For the honor of my family” Rusko agreed to fight “Not today though”, he spoke, “for I require rest after such a battle with your sister” He strode off to his tent and rested while Viz and I spoke of the fight and of the Arena trying to come up with a strategy that would beat a Ranger many years our elder.

 

The new day came, Vizviz more ready than ever to “avenge” my defeat.  We both looked across to the Rangers tent just to see it open and Rusko emerge from it, his chain mail gleaming in the morning sun. He walked purposefully to the Arena doors and walked through.  I wished Vizviz luck as she walked after him Mace and shield in hand.  A small crowd gathered to watch the two elves fight. Bets could be heard muttered in the crowd on who would win. The small crowd grew quickly as knowledge of the battle was to start.  An arrow zipped by Vizviz and bounced harmlessly off her shield.  She had been ready for this.  A sudden charge by Rusko was met with a powerful blinding spell by Viz; I had shown her that one as a child. Rusko continued his advance and was met with a root spell, binding his legs.  A mighty charge by Vizviz met with a clash of steel as Rusko countered and blocked, able to block blow against blow that headed his way.  I was amazed this Ranger and his ability to fight back even while bound.  Vizviz continued her assault and she too seemed amazed at the Ranger.  The root spell finally broken, Rusko charged Vizviz again trying to get the best of her.  The crowd swelling and filling the Arena as the fight continued, seemingly longer than any battle yet waged.  My eyes suddenly met Vizviz’s eyes and I remember seeing that flash and a grin and she let loose with a little known spell. Held in my family for generations and only taught to the Cerridwen clan.  The Ranger fell, at first to one knee, then the other as the powerful magic zapped his strength away. The magic stopped to reveal that Vizviz had also dropped to one knee exhausted by the battle.  The crowd hushed to see who would fall first. Vizviz with all her strength gained footing to stand and launch one final spell at the Ranger. As the brilliance of the spell subsided it revealed the Ranger down and Vizviz still standing.

 

Rusko lay there for a bit and then slowly recovered some of his strength and sat up.  I ran to his side and helped this valiant Ranger to his feet.  He had fought well and I was honored to know him. I guided him back to his tent and nursed his wounds. We talked for hours on matters of life and of death. Where we had journeyed and where we would go.  The time seemed all to quickly passed when I realized that I must go help Viz. He thanked me and told me that I should go and help her. The unspoken word of affection, still hanging in the air as I got up to leave.  I knew that I would see this Ranger again and that I wanted to learn more about him. I slowly walked towards our camp looking up at the stars, looking for guidance, looking for answers that didn’t seem to be there. How could I hide my fondness for this Ranger? The Tribunal would be watching me. How could I follow their teachings, knowing I had fallen in love with a non-follower? I must be cautious.  I must help Viz complete her quest and then I could start on my own.  A quest for knowledge, a quest for this one Ranger.

 

We awoke the next morning to find that Rusko’s group had collected their camp and had headed out earlier in the morning.  A note pinned to my tent revealed that they were on a quest and needed to leave so they could arrive at their destination in time.  “I will see you again fair Barbarian,” he wrote. “ I will show you what a Ranger is all about next we meet” and at the bottom of the note he signed.  “ Be well, Vixerean Cerridwen”  “Ranger Rusko Elvenwood, brother to Verantu, Son of Tunare, mother of all, and Branded forever.

 

Vizviz and I returned to our journey for the quest of the sword holder.  We continued our battles and arrived in a City by the sea.  Freeport. We immediately booked passage and proceeded across the Ocean of Tears. Each of us marveling at the great expanse of water before us.  Neither of us believed to remember seeing any larger.

 

The sea breeze, ahh I could even smell it faintly from here. The past months a blur. Viz completing her quest and gaining her memories back, wanting to start on a new quest. I recall that I was awestruck when we approached the City of Kelethin. The tall trees and the village built amongst their branches. “A city of Elves” I remember thinking. Maybe I would see Rusko here, just as I turned to see him standing by one of the great Lifts to the city.  He had come to greet us and act as a guide for Viz and I. He directed Viz to the Druids guild so she could train in the way of her real parents. Rusko and I were left to explore the city and the surrounding forest. We were always together.  He trained me in the ways of a Ranger. Teaching me to track prey on the forest floor and helping the city defend against the ever advancing horde of Orcs in the nearby area of Crushbone.  I had grown quite fond of Rusko and when Viz finally decided that she was ready I told her that I was staying.  I wanted to learn more about the elves, I wanted to learn more about this one Ranger, Rusko.  She agreed and wished me luck and said she would return.  And here I was watching her walk off in the distance. Back towards the land of my people leaving me in the lands of her’s.

 

“I will now show you the way a Ranger travels” Rusko spoke, waking me from my dream. “We will travel to the far off worlds of Kunark to hunt and track the waya ranger does.  Are you willing to follow?  Do you wish to join me?”  “Yes” I said, knowing that I would go anywhere this Ranger decided to lead.  We gathered our packs soon after, stocked with supplies and heading towards the Docks.  There we gained passage on a mighty sailing vessel to the port city of Firiona Vie.  We continued our trek through the surrounding lands and fought many battles, growing and learning as we went. Getting to know each others fighting styles and how best to hone those skills.  We battled for many months and grew quite close to one another.  We decided it best to return to the lands of the elves to visit his guild once more.  It was then that he asked me “Vixerean Cerridwen, would you have me as your husband? Would you become my wife as Vixerean Elvenwood?” I was overjoyed and shocked at the same time by his question.  Yes I would be his wife, but what would the Tribunal think?  Marry from another Race?  Would they allow it?  And if they did not would I continue without their approval?  Would I have the strength? “What you ask is difficult.  I follow the Tribunal, I do love you Rusko, but to go against the Tribunal could disgrace my entire clan and banish me forever from my home land.  I must think before I make my final answer. Please understand?” “I understand my love” he spoke softly “ and he looked off to the sea as if looking for an answer that may be found there.

 

“What of the smith’s sword?”  He finally spoke. “Join my guild, take up the sword and become Branded.  The sword will only choose those that are worthy to join.  It will test you to see if you have the strength to join us. To join me as my wife.”  I listened to his words, spoken in a wise tone. Yes, that is what I must do.  If I were truly worthy the sword would assist in my decision.  We journeyed back to the lands of the dwarves and approached the smith’s modest home.  A fire roaring outside and many followers were there to greet us.  I looked and caught sight of the smith donning his armor.  As he exited his home I could see the sword glowing faintly in his grip. “I knew you were coming” he spoke “The sword told me you would be here.  Do you truly wish to become part of this guild? Do you wish to hold the sword and let it guide you?” “I wish to become Branded and stay with honor and glory serving this guild” I spoke with a strong clear voice. As he approached the hum of the sword grew louder and the fire seemed to grow in size. As the sword passed to my hands I felt the searing magic flow through my body.  There was no pain, only a faint voice, a thought, flowing in my mind. The sword spoke “Vixerean you are a strong and worthy addition to this clan. You have more strength than you know. You will gain the blessings of the Tribunal, however it will be a long road to journey to accomplish this. You have the strength and the Heart to meet this goal. Speak the oath and be at peace”

 

“I am Vixerean, Daughter of Cerridwen, Follower of the Tribunal. I vow to continue the traditions of the sword. To uphold honor and to vanquish all that oppose its followers!” the sword pulsed with power once again and I could feel a burning sensation in my arm. I looked down to see the Brand from the sword slowly appearing in my skin. I looked down to see Rusko grinning with pride, as were all of my new guild mates.  I handed the sword back to the smith and thanked him for the honor of holding it. As I looked towards the horizon I knew that many adventures awaited me, many long journeys, and many battles to be fought.  With my new family to help me, I knew that all would be accomplished for I had been Branded and knew I was Branded for life.

 

 

Vixerean Elvenwood

Proud Officer of Branded