| The Willow Sourcebook |
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Nelwyn Valley is a sleepy place, yet every Nelwyn village has its warriors. Intruders sometimes disrupt the villagers' peace, like thunderbolts jarring sleepers into awareness of the real world. Wolves invade during hard winters, and two-footed predators - Daikini bandits - have ventured down into the valley, thinking the little folk easy prey. Survivors' reports discourage further visits. Vohnkar, commander of the soldiers in Willow's village, has confronted invaders his predecessors never faced. After the birth of Elora Danan, Bavmorda sent many scouts and Death Dogs across the lands. Some of these found Nelwyn Valley, and a few reached Willow's village. Vohnkar's soldiers dared not kill Bavmorda's minions, even if they could, for it could bring the army's retribution. So they settled for a show of force, which at least amused the minions. The Nelwyn soldiers also found a few Death Dogs roaming free, and these they treated with less respect. Soldiers in Nelwyn villages occupy a peculiar, shadowy situation. Everyone recognizes their importance, but they lack status. The job is usually hereditary, because villagers assume no one would choose it freely. In the past it was not even proper to acknowledge warriors. Now the Nelwyns regard them as, at best, a needed unpleasantness. Vohnkar, though, has attained a rare position. Not only do the Nelwyns respect him, they genuinely like him for his bravery and good temper, and also for his skill in spinning yarns drawn from his extensive travels. And some older villagers may feel sympathy for the trials of his youth. DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES Vohnkar's family tree, unlike the deep-rooted lineages of other villagers, yields seeds that drift away across the valley. "They're a footloose crowd, that lot," other villagers say, thinking especially of Vohnkar's father, Mergando. With stuck-up hair, puffy cheeks, and swollen fingers, Mergando looked like something had pumped him too full, making him bulge with inner pressures. He commanded the village's soldiers, but was not well liked. Very tall and strong for a Nelwyn, he displayed other traits rare in the village: drunkenness, self-pity, and a consuming wanderlust. His wife of long years and silent suffering, Solia, bore her troubles without complaint. She was kind and self-sacrificing by nature, seldom showing her cares among the villagers. And she never scolded Vohnkar in place of Mergando. He could not have found a better, more loving mother, just as his choice of fathers could not have been worse. Sometimes, usually during a festival when the village's gaiety threw her problems into a sharper relief, Solia spoke of her distress to her closest friends. In a calm voice, as if describing horrors of the distant past, Solia told them of the present. Mergando's drinking binges. His violent rages, even against little Vohnkar! His maudlin maundering on loneliness and isolation. "I died tomorrer, there wouldn't be ten people at my funeral," he often said. One night when Vohnkar was about thirteen, Mergando roused him from a sound sleep and rousted him out of bed. The smell of liquor was suffocating. "Gonna tach you howta fight once fer all," Mergando said, slurring his words. When Mergando strapped an oversize leather vest on the boy, Solia tried to reason with him. When Mergando gathered an armful of weapons and gave the boy a spear, Solia implored him, for love of his family, to stop. When Mergando pulled the boy out into the cool night beneath a quarter moon, Solia began to shout. Lamplight appeared in the windows of the neighbors' huts. But nothing stopped Mergando. In the darkness his eyes were dark hollows, like a skull's sockets. He dumped the spare weapons, shortswords and daggers, onto the dewy ground. "Raise yer spear," he commanded. Confused and frightened, Vohnkar did so, barely keeping his balance with the heavy weapon. "Now, defend yerself like a soldier!" Mergando said. He charged. Vohnkar wavered, not knowing what to do, and in that moment of hesitation, Mergando swept under the spear's point, jerked it away, and clubbed Vohnkar to the ground. "No!" cried Solia, while Mergando cursed the boy's cowardice. "Call that bravery? Little wretch, gotta learn to fight!" He struck again with the butt of the spear, and again, while Vohnkar screamed. Others rushed out from their homes, just in time to hear Mergando screech like a cat. He staggered away, clutching his neck, while Solia stared, amazed, at the dagger in her hands. There was silence for the space of a long sigh, a moment fixed in Vohnkar's memory like a scene from a vivid dream. The villagers in their nightclothes; a sliver of moon turning the clouds silvery gray; cool air and the smell of wet grass; blood thick in his mouth, pounding in his temples, staining his mother's hands. With a snarl Mergando limped away into the darkness, and no one ever saw him again. (No funeral was held.) Solia helped Vohnkar back to bed, treated his bruises as best she could, and told him to go back to sleep. Vohnkar lay awake for a long time, deciding he would never become a soldier like his father. Finally he fell asleep. That night Vohnkar had his first dream of Tir Asleen. Solia never fully recovered from the shock of that episode. She could not sleep for the nightmares, and during the day her mind wandered. She still loved Vohnkar. But she often burst into tears for no immediate reason, and would not speak for long intervals. After several weeks, she seemed to sleep more easily. But one night Vohnkar was awakened by soldiers, his father's subordinates. They had found Solia walking at the edge of River Freen. "I don't remember what happened," said his mohter, shaking. "I closed my eyes in bed. When I opened them, I was standing in cold water." Vohnkar brought his mother in and fed her. He had begun hunting in the forest, doing well enough that they did not go hungry. She talked to him for over an hour, telling him how his father went wrong and how to behave better. He said, "I don't want to be a warrior." His mother answered, "Do what you feel is right." At last they both went back to sleep. But Solia's sleepwalking did not end. Every few weeks a soldier up late or a farmer up early found her walking jerkily, dressed in nightclothes and asking for her family. Awakened, she could not remember how she got there. Then one night Solia disappeared and did not return. Her tracks led to the river. This time a funeral was held, attended by the entire village. Vohnkar, now an orphan, could not find tears to cry at the funeral. That night, and for many nights afterward, he dreamt of Tir Asleen. A DREAM VISIT The High Aldwin had told Vohnkar and the other village children about Tir Asleen. Even at its height, the great kingdom was no more than a legend to the Nelwyns. Now, though none in the village realized it, Tir Asleen had fallen, passing into legend everywhere else as well. The fables of Tir Asleen haunted Vohnkar's imagination, and his dreams. His dreams left him tense in the shoulders and limbs, gasping when he awakened, and more tired than when he went to sleep. They were all the same. Vohnkar saw a castle of white stone, soaring towers, and banners in bright colors. He flew in like an eagle, his shadow the tiniest spot on the green meadows. As he landed in the courtyard, cheers arose. In the dream, the castle was filled with the Nelwyns of his village. "We know you can't sleep," they said. "Come with us to a nice place to sleep." Vohnkar followed them through dark passages whose shadows hid wonderful statues like the Wickerman, and rich rooms filled with furniture for giants. He thought, "What amazing people live in Tir Asleen!" But then he realized he had lost sight of his guides. He ran, looking for them. But they were always just around the next bend. He ran and ran, and finally he woke up feeling stiff, clammy, and disappointed. A few nights later he would dream again of Tir Asleen, but he never found the promised sleeping place. TRAVELLING An aunt and uncle took Vohnkar in after his mother died, and he liked them well enough. But growing into adolescence, he also grew tired of the village. So one spring day he bade farewell to his aunt and uncle and set out for the north. Vohnkar did not realize, though everyone else did, that he departed at the same time of the year that Mergando had always chosen for his own wanderings. He travelled to the crossroads, then west, leaving the road to avoid contact with "Daikini giants." He crossed deserted fields that had once been farmland. Pitching his bedroll on the plains, he slept beneath the stars, with an impenetrable maze of rocky canyons in the distance. He could not have imagined that the castle of his dreams stood beyond them, cursed by Bavmorda's magic. After a month or so he reached the Inland Sea to the west. More trustful of Daikinis by then, he approached them openly. The riders of the western steppes, unfamiliar with "Pecks," found him astonishing. But their knowledge of Tir Asleen had already given way to legends, for they had no thought for lands beyond their trade routes. They believed Tir Asleen lay "to the north," and so Vohnkar worked his way up the seacoast. His dreams grew less intense as the sights he saw occupied more of his attention. The coastal cliffs, magnificently carved by nature and by primitive peoples, fascinated him. He began to understand, as few Nelwyns could, how large was the world and how many wonders it held. Once he helped defend the nomads against a Poha attack, acquitting himself with honor. He was surprised to find that although he did not enjoy the battle, he wasn't sickened or fearful; nor did fighting make him feel he was acting like his father. In the fields of Nockmaar he heard distant rumblings of volcanoes, and of trouble. He saw River Troon, a cesspool of Nockmaar's waste. Sick at heart and struck with concern for his home, he journeyed back across the wilderness. It had been years since he left Nelwyn Valley, and his mission to find Tir Asleen had failed. A bad winter delayed his return to the valley. Trapped by a blizzard in a hillside cave north of Nelwyn Valley, he shivered with cold and hunger. Numbness crept inward from his toes and fingertips, and he sensed a warmth that he knew was illusion. He felt sleepy. His last memory recalled his father's words: "I died tomorrer, not ten people would attend my funeral." ANOTHER DREAM? Vohnkar has told this story many times. "I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake," he says, "and I looked up. What I remember seeing first were those large eyes, beautiful green eyes. Pale skin. Silver hair as fine as down. Thin furs on a thin body, and fingertips fine as crow quills. So tall! "She spoke to me, saying, 'Your battle is not done, warrior. Come with me.' She had thin lips, delicate pink like a carnation, but I never saw them move." His eyes glitter with the memory. "Two others appeared, just like her, but taller, with men's features and pointed beards. They wrapped me in furs and led me down a long passage. I can't remember what the tunnel looked like, or how long I walked. At the end they carried me. "They gave me some wafers to eat. Delicious, with a kind of nut-bread taste, but more delicate. It filled me right up in three bites. I asked them about Tir Asleen, and they looked away. They couldn't take me there. But they did show me something else. "We walked through more passages. I don't remember how far we went, or what directions, or anything; it's odd. Suddenly we faced a cave mouth looking out over a mountain range, under black clouds. "I saw a red flame of lava from a volcano, and then they pointed out a building. It was huge and black, and I knew I was looking at Nockmaar Castle. "They said, 'Evil times are approaching. The spirit of Tir Asleen, of peace and open hands, will be threatened. We who cherish that spirit must fight to protect it, wherever it survives. Return home, warrior, and do your part.' "They gave me a token of faith in Tir Asleen," Vohnkar says, holding out his hand. "This silver ring. Then the woman spoke some words I didn't understand, and I got sleepy. I woke up, rested like I'd slept a year, in the same cavern where I'd fallen asleep, but with furs and food piled around me." Was Vohnkar in truth rescued by the legendary elves? Perhaps; and perhaps not. Though no one doubts Vohnkar's sincerity, his meeting occurred after he had fasted for several days, and his story resembles a dream or vision. Vohnkar wondered at the meaning of this visitation. He tells of standing at the cave's mouth, ring in hand, pondering how he could "do his part" to fight Bavmorda. In all his travels, he had not found Tir Asleen. How could he protect its spirit? Looking out on the blizzard, he knew he could have died. Seeing the snowy hills, he thought, "I still could." Awareness of his mortality struck him like a winter blast, and in his warm furs he shook with sudden chill. RETURN TO DUTY As Vohnkar journeyed home, he thought of his rescuers' words. He had avoided villages on his trip north, three years before, but now he stopped in every one he found. Townspeople flocked to hear the stories of his travels. Though Nelwyns are usually sedentary, hating travel, they delight to hear about foreign climes. In turn, they told him of recent troubles. Giant bandits, driven away from Daikini towns when Nockmaar's army took all the loot for itself, passed through the valley. Warriors kept them moving south. Vohnkar crossed the foothills. Then, under a spring sky of robin's-egg blue, with the sun high and the breeze uncommonly fresh, Vohnkar stood on a hillside and saw he had come home. His village stretched to the edge of River Freen, where a bend in its course shielded and caressed the land. Busy villagers ran in and out of their homes like bees falling away from a hive. They plowed fields, loosing the aroma of freshly turned earth on the wind. On the riverbank fishermen cast out lines and pulled in fish. Birds sang, and even the blooms of the trees seemed to burst forth with the vigor of the season. Vohnkar walked down the hillside. He saw familiar landmarks: the High Aldwin's home, huts of childhood friends, and the Ageless Oak, oldest tree in the valley. Remembering the dangers he'd seen and heard of, Vohnkar felt an unexpected fear clutch his heart. The idea that all these buildings could be burned, the people enslaved or worse, was more than he could grasp. But he knew some stood ready to protect what they loved. In the village streets Nelwyns saw him, shouted, rushed to welcome him back. He shook his elders' hands, hugged his childhood friends, lifted and kissed the children. By the time he reached the village square, Vohnkar walked at the center of a growing crowd. There he met the Aldwin. "How good to see you've come back safely, my boy - er, young man," the Aldwin said. "You must be tired. What may we do for you?" Vohnkar said, "I've come back to be a soldier. And I think I'll never leave again." The crowd gave a deafening cheer. And that night Vohnkar slept the soundest sleep he'd ever known. VOHNKAR AND HIS SOLDIERS Protecting the village proved tougher than usual in the following years. A Death Dog, searching for the baby, tore apart the Nelwyns' fair before they managed to kill it; Vohnkar delivered the death blow. Then he and his soldiers escorted Willow and his party to the Daikini crossroads. The journey was more dangerous than Vohnkar's travels, and the soldiers often had to drive off wild animals and evade Nockmaar troops. At the crossroads Vohnkar wanted to stay with Willow and Meegosh while they searched for a suitable Daikini to take Elora. But Prefect Burglekutt made that impossible. Vohnkar had to obey the official's orders to return home, because above all he is a good soldier. GAMING NOTES 5th skill-level halfling fighter SKILLS Vohnkar is skilled with spears, knives, and most other weapons used by Nelwyns (but not bows or heavy polearms). He has travelled widely and can survive and find his way in the wilderness. He is fairly good at leading soldiers, though the Nelwyn village has not given him much chance to hone his skills. EQUIPMENT Spear, dagger, leather armor. Flint and steel, other camping items as appropriate. Vohnkar always wears his silver ring. It is not magical. |
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