Prophecy and Legend. ((Added content.))

Long ago, deep within the mountains of Cimmeria, there was a legend of two warring tribes, Clan Ice Wolf and Clan Storm Cloud.  They were at war for many, many moons.  It was not known to them how the two Clans first began to battle, though they were both believed to be the two most powerful Clans in Cimmeria from which many smaller Clans had branched from over the years.  As the war continued, both Clans would send groups of settlers down the mountains to ensure non-extinction for both Clans.  Something was forgotten, however; an old prophecy.  The prophecy, well hidden, was written in ancient times upon the walls of the Cave of the Great White Bear.  These writings were not known to the Chieftains of the two warring tribes, the secret being passed down to those known as the Keepers.  Not a breath of the prophecy was ever spoken until the signs began to appear.

The night was calm; the stormy sky had cleared and the heavens shone brightly, the stars beautiful and bright.  The wind was brisk this deep in the mountains at this time of year, the smell of rain and wet earth hanging in the air.  Clan Storm Cloud was wary of the weather, for the storms in the area could be violent and had not let up in forever, it would seem.  This was a bad omen to them all as most lay cover in whatever makeshift shelter was available.  The Keeper of Clan Storm Cloud studied the deep blue sky as night settled in.  He frowns, puzzled, as two unfamiliar stars appeared, bright and close together, and he shook his head, wondering if he’s had too much ale.  A star shot across the heavenly expanse, trailing a fiery path through the sky as it fell, fell, fell to earth deep in the high, treacherous mountains. He stood still, iced to the bone, as the words of the prophecy chased through him.  Stricken, he breaks into a dead run, heading for the Chieftain's tattered tent of a home.  Rummaging in a trunk filled with old parchments and scrolls, reading and searching all night, he found what he was looking for.  The map.  The map to the Cave.  The time was near.  He could feel it.

As morning broke Clan Ice Wolf readied themselves for yet another fierce battle and started their trek to the field of opposition.  As they camped and scouted the field and forces, they reeled in shock when they saw no signs of Clan Storm Cloud.  Instead they found the battlefield not empty and waiting, but full of many Great White Bears; so many in fact it looked like a blanket of snow covering the ground.  The sight of them struck fear into even the hardiest of the warriors of the Clan as the Great White Bears had not been seen since before the war began.  When the scouts returned to the remaining warriors, they told the Chieftain and the Keeper of what they witnessed. 

Upon hearing the auspicious news and knowing what this might mean the Keeper turned to the Chieftain and asked him if his mate was with child.  When the Chieftain of Clan Ice Wolf confirmed she was indeed with child, the Keeper told the Chieftain of the old prophecy.  The Chieftain, after much heated discussion and ale, sent a warrior with a message to the Chieftain of Clan Storm Cloud, asking for a meeting between them.

It was agreed that they would once more face one another on the battlefield, this time to meet on peaceful terms.  The Chieftains, with their Keepers and a few warriors for escort met in the center of the vast expanse, the Great White Bears surrounding them as snow crunched under their feet, marking their passage.  Both sides restless and pacing, the Great White Bears surrounding them, the Keepers turned from watching each other to the Chieftains, speaking of the prophecy; one Keeper knowing the lore, the other knowing the way. 

The Keepers then confronted the Chieftain of Clan Storm Cloud as they asked him if his mate was with child.  This being confirmed as well, the two Chieftains knew that the war between them had to end and they would need to seek and learn the prophecy in its entirety together.  Both agreed to gather what knowledge they had along with supplies and their best warriors to make the journey two days hence.

Dawn bloomed on that fateful day, a glorious sunrise of oranges and hues of red that are rarely seen.  Both sides met yet again at the battlefield, prepared for travel, the Chieftains and their mates, Breanna and Denae, steady in their resolve, knowing the dangers of what lay ahead.  But they knew the importance of the prophecy; the future of the Clans depended on it. 

The path was long and hard and both parties lost men along the way. They pressed on with undying determination.  The days had blurred into weeks, months, as onward they rode, until one day… when they finally arrived at the entrance to the Cave of the Great White Bear.  Only a few warriors remained, their party reduced from 20 to a mere 9: the Chieftains and their mates, the Keepers, and three warriors. The two women, bound together in pregnancy and prophecy, weathered the journey, their bellies heavy with the children they bore and the words in their hearts. 

The cave was as dark as a stormy night as they quietly entered, torches alight.  Fighting soon erupted as they followed the path slowly through the cave.  Creatures that called the cave home fought to keep the intruders out; one by one they succumbed to the warriors.  Upon finding the path a dead end, the party stood silently at the stone wall, deciding what they were supposed to do.  Breanna shifted as she felt a little wetness between her thighs and a cramp in her back. She leaned against the wall, unconcerned, and felt it move.  Suppressing a startled cry, she stumbled only to be caught by one of the Keepers, who narrowed her eyes speculatively but said nothing as the wall continued to move, revealing a pitch black space.  As they brought their torches to bear, they saw more torches lining each wall, and as they passed the tunnel became a beacon of brightness. 

The tunnel was covered in ancient writing.  The Keepers were fascinated; they began deciphering along the way as the tunnel took them deep into the earth, side passages caved in but the main tunnel clear as the day as the last traverse happened upon it.  As they continued onward, the tunnel widened and opened up, and eventually, as the ground evened out and the torches were lit along the wall, they came to a halt as the sense of a vast space pressed on them.  The Keepers, not noticing, were still studying the text.  The Keeper of Clan Ice Wolf, closest to the party, muttering under her breath as she read, suddenly straightened as the light in the tunnel became…more.  For the words she uttered had been words of power.  The walls crawled with light; more light than a hundred thousand torches could ever bring.  The air hummed with power as the light spread upon a vast city, shimmering softly as the light steadied, the city seemingly untouched by the damage of time as if protected by the gods themselves.

As they wound through the city, the party stared in fascination.  It was like nothing they had ever seen before, all edges and squares, the buildings easily five times the size of the legendary mammoths that roamed Cimmeria.  Along the edges of the walls two symbols were used frequently; the symbols of Clan Ice Wolf and Clan Storm Cloud.  They came to stop in front of a cave-like structure, and the drawings found here were that of the two Clan insignias.  Underneath the two insignias seemed to be some sort of mechanism that looked like something needed to fit there.  The Chieftains, already tired and irate as their mates became restless and their warriors wary, carefully studied the mechanism.  They had come so far and lost so many…

The two Keepers had been reading along the way, however, and gestured to the rings the Chieftains were wearing.  Rings passed down from Chieftain to Chieftain all these years.  The Chieftains looked at each other, a silent communication between them.  They nodded, turned, and inserted their rings.  The mountain seemed to shake as the wall moved, opening into a large and clearly sacred dwelling.  Here the writings and the drawings were very well preserved, untouched by nature and time for so very long.  The Keepers moved about, excited at so much information. 

What really sparked their interest about the prophecy was a picture of two stars, known as the Aethelwulf and the Aesara.  The writings, delicately touched by the Keepers, said that when the Aethelwulf and the Aesara were shown bright in the sky once again that the two Clans would unite under the Great White Bear.  A child from each Clan would be born, on the same day, and they would be the ones to lead and unite them,  facing the destiny set before them.

Breanna cried out sharply as wetness slid across the floor, glistening in the torchlight.  Her time had come.  The Keepers took this as a sign of the prophecy fulfilling and made haste to gather supplies in the city, if any were to be had.  By the reckoning of the Keepers, it was late afternoon, so the warriors and Chieftains settled in for a long night, at the opening of the sacred dwelling.  Meanwhile the Keepers left Breanna in Denae’s care.  The Chieftains paced, for hours it seemed, while in truth it was just an hour or so, when a second cry tore through the air.  At a loss, Keepers gone, they looked at each other, panicked, as another cry rang out.  Not caring, they race inside where they find Denae, pale and sweating, her clothing wet, staring steadily into Breanna’s own calm ones.  Not one child would be born this night, but two.  When the Keepers returned some three hours later, they were surprised to see the two men inside the dwelling, both women in labor.  They tried to shoo the Chieftains out to wait but they stubbornly refused, and the women were past caring. 

Long the women labored, pains wracking them constantly.  Curses to Crom and curses to their mates flew through the air.  In the dead of night, a lusty wail arose as Breanna gave one last push.  The Keeper wrapped the bairn in a thin blanket, the only thing she could find, and handed the child to the Chieftain as she did her work.  The Chieftain inspected the child and declared that a son had been born unto him.  “I have a son, and he shall be called…Aethelwulf!”  He glanced to the walls, sure in his decision.  Not ten minutes passes before another cry bellows out.  The Chieftain smiles at his child’s feistiness.  One thin blanket and bairn later he beams as he announces the birth of his daughter. “Crom has brought me a healthy daughter!  We shall name her….” He looks over at the Chieftain of Clan Storm Cloud before raising his eyes to the stars on the wall. “We shall name her Aesara.”