Veyka returns to the longhouse from her successful hunt, bloodied from the taking. Without ceremony, she crosses the smoky hall and collapses across the broad top of her preferred table.
The old timber groans beneath her. Hearthlight catches her red hair, black claws, and wolf ears while the longhouse answers with a quiet scrape of wood.
A horn of mead slides from the table’s far edge into easy reach, though no hand offers it. Its golden surface trembles with the building’s faint enchantment.
Outside, the wind howls around the longhouse walls, worrying the shutters and driving loose snow beneath the door. Inside, the fire answers with a low, steady roar.
Veyka
The coin is warm from the hunt.
Veyka settles into the familiar wood and begins counting her payment, one piece at a time. The coins chime softly against the tabletop beneath the storm.
The longhouse remains still around her, patient as an old beast, leaving the horn, the hearth, and the counted coin within her reach.
“I throw back my drink, and settle across the tables surface. Letting the blistering gale outside hold the room. The night wasn't safe for those who drifted roof far, and I wasn't being paid enough to care for now. I'd go back at it tomorrow.”
Veyka catches the horn and throws back the mead. Its warmth burns down through the cold clinging to her, while the last coin settles beneath her clawed fingers.
She stretches across the table’s broad surface, boots braced against its timber edge, red hair spilling over one shoulder as the old wood accepts her weight.
Outside, the gale claws at the longhouse and drives snow against the shutters. The storm turns the roofline and open dark beyond into a warning for anyone still wandering.
Inside, the hearth holds steady. Firelight moves across Veyka’s black fur, gold chains, and blood-marked gloves, softening nothing but making the room feel closed and watchful.
The counted payment remains gathered near her hand, warm from the hunt and bright beneath the smoke. No summons comes from the storm, and no bargain demands answering tonight.
The longhouse settles into its night sounds: timber creaking, embers shifting, wind pressing hard against the walls. Tomorrow can bring another trail, another taking, and another reward.
✓ Quest Accepted
Decipher the three glowing runes
✓ Quest Accepted
Discover who sent the Aen-Sidhe summons
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A single black feather slips beneath the longhouse door against the gale, crossing the floor where no wind should carry it. Frost blooms around its edges.
The hearthfire gutters blue. Every coin near Veyka’s hand turns cold at once, and the mead horn gives a faint note like a distant bell.
Veyka
The feather bears Aen-Sidhe glamour.
Beyond the shutters, the storm stops abruptly. Snow hangs motionless in the air, suspended beneath a sky that has become a vast, starless eye.
The feather lifts from the floor and unfolds into a thin strip of pale bark, marked with three glowing runes. Their light crawls toward the table.
Then the longhouse door opens by itself. The gale does not enter. Instead, silver leaves scatter across the threshold, each one wet with darkness.
“I stand and stretch languidly, letting the firelight catch my curves. The townsfolk were mortified. Both fear of what lay beyond and of me. Fear that overrode even their desire for me. But this was not unusual for me. This was not the first nor last time I'd be called by whatever lay in the dark beyond that threshold. First was to read the bark. A familiar and old language. Next would be to answer their call. If Fomorian, I could expect blood. If Aen-Sidhe...still probably blood but perhaps a bargain. Fellow Sidhe could be anything.”
SUCCESS (Great Perception, rolled +2)
Veyka rises from the table and stretches languidly, firelight sliding over her red hair, black fur, gold chains, and poised, athletic form. The longhouse watches in silence.
The pale bark drifts up before her. Its three runes turn in the air, shedding cold light across her claws as the old language unfolds beneath her gaze.
Veyka
The first rune names the threshold. The second names the summoned one. The third offers passage under witness.
Together, the marks declare an Aen-Sidhe summons from beyond the door, formal enough to promise a bargain and ancient enough to conceal its price.
The silver leaves on the threshold curl inward, arranging themselves into a narrow path through the snowless darkness. Beyond it, distant shapes move beneath the starless sky.
The blue hearthfire steadies behind Veyka, while every cold coin near the table gives one sharp chime. The bark waits at her hand, its runes glowing patiently.
Quest Complete
Decipher the three glowing runes