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| - The company had far to travel, this much was certain. Evidently, the fastest way for them to reach Hockestow forest was to follow the old road toward Sarop, and then cut across land once the landscape between the road and the forest became less rugged. This fine spring morning, birds are flitting about the upper story of the tavern, whose windows have been flung wide open. Maids can be heard, going about the business of removing sheets from the cots, and generally tidying after the guests. From the back of the stables, the clatter of hooves and the odd irritable cry signal that the stablehand has his hands full with some steed or other. Otherwise, the morning is quiet and peaceful. The road is quite busy as a number of those travelling to the church are stood around greeting one another, especially those from different villages for whom the Sunday gathering is their weekly opportunity to trade news and gossip. Several groups of old women are huddled together chatting near the track to the manor, and it is evident that almost everyone you can see is either heading to the Church, or waiting for someone who is. Everyone is dressed in smarter clothes if they have them, with their hair combed, but otherwise the local folk seem relaxed as befitted their day of rest. Longinus wore his customary too-white robe with the hood pulled well forward and his hands clasped together deep within the sleeves. Llewelyn walked alongside the cart warily, watching each other traveller or party closely as they pass. "Did they? I hadn't noticed" Longinus replied. "Perhaps you forget my House? Though as a gifted member of our house I do not wear the red cap, I have access to much lore that is... unknown to other houses. I did spend some time researching the general area before coming here. If we travel along the Long Mynd to the north, at the end we head north west. The Hockestow forest should be in sight from the end of the Mynd. It is all but certain to contain some magical sites of significance, though what significance exactly I am not yet ready to speculate on." "I'm sorry Maga," said Longinus gravely, with a short incline of his head. "You asked if I knew where we are going. Of your 'important' things, along the way, I have no knowledge at all. Just enough direction to get us to the right location is all I have to offer." A little further along the road... "Maga Eirlys. About what I mentioned this morning at breakfast. Would now be an opportune time to start our little exchange of information?" She nodded. "It is a long road we travel, and words can fill many leagues," she agreed. "There's not much to tell, on my end. My father is known for his many children; though only few of us are his by blood. It is certain that I am one of them, though, as our resemblance is uncanny! I was one of thousands of children he brought to Arcadia as a babe-in-arms. He sees much of himself in me (not just physically), and perhaps I was a bit spoiled as a result. Drystan came to us one Beltaine, and begged my father permission to take me as apprentice. After much coaxing and wheedling, he consented. Drystan began my training in Arcadia, and eventually brought me to Crun Clach. I have lived there these past ten years, and have only left but for the sabbats. Most of them I can observe wherever I am, but on Samhain and Yule I must attend my Lady, in Arcadia." She pulled her holly staff close to her, and closed her eyes reverently. A moment later she blinked, and turned to her companion. "But what of you?" There as silence for a while. "There is perhaps even less to tell for me. I have no family outside of my Pater, Mercantus, whose blood I do not share, and know naught of them. Somehow in my veins runs the blood of Mercere however, or seems to, as my gift is nuanced in a way that has only ever been found in direct descendents. I grew up in my Pater's covenant, always marked as a future apprentice by the adults and a crippled foundling by the few other children. I have travelled outside the covenant before only once, and then in the company of my Pater. However, House Mercere has, and is expected to maintain, closer ties to the mundane - and by that I mean non-magical rather than non-fae, world. So I have been given instruction on what is acceptable behaviour and attitudes. What is likely to cause trouble, how the ungifted think, that sort of thing."
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