Arwen's Christmas Gift

There could be no clue from the small one room hut's interior that this was the highest seat of power in the community of Druids. All Redcap Forest paid reverence to the occupant of this hovel. A nexus of two powers, political and primal, where decisions and rituals changed the world on a local and global level.

Ranthas Elder Arbiter, the thirty eighth leader of the Redcap Druids, had made most of his decisions in commune with nature, leaning heavily on his spiritual connection to his totems and the parliament of trees. He would hear out the concerns of local hunters, speak with respected local magic users and even receive emissaries from towns and cities across the continent. He also oversaw the loose hierarchy of druids, today he would be speaking with the senior druid of the conclave at the mouth of the dwarven passage.

The knowledge of this meeting could have been brought from the birds of the air, the rodents in the trees or any pack of animals that had spotted Falridge on his way from the south. Instead he was forewarned of the man's arrival and the topic of his discussion by the document on his desk.

A call from outside declared the master druid had arrived, Falridge entered and grabbed his host in a brotherly embrace of greeting.

“Arbiter, I come from the south with reports and with a request.” Falridge began.

“Yes, yes, but first tell me what you think of this.” Ranthas put a mug in the traveller's hands “I believe I've got a better brew than previous batches.”

“You know...” Smiling and taking a taste Falridge continued “The way that you keep tinkering with a perfectly acceptable recipe is something of an obsession.” Another sip “Can I taste willow? Why would anyone want to drink a beer that carries the taste of willow bark?”

“I quite like it.” The Arbiter pointed out.

“I suspect it's an acquired taste.” he searched for somewhere to put the cup down but failed to find anywhere and held on to it. “This thing with the goblins it seems they are starting to press up against the dwarves. The strongholds should form a barrier preventing large numbers of goblins getting to Strophea's borders but I would suggest we start providing some simple support and help strengthen the supply lines to the dwarves just in case.”

“Yes, I concur, get word out to your hermits as well, tell them goblins are to be discouraged. What of the mining settlements has the logging stopped?”

“As agreed the Redforge miners have kept to the lumber we indicated. We celebrated with them at the end of the project and they are to gift a portion of the first haul to the city on our behalf. Credit with Mayor Roper's staff for any of the orders needs has been assured.”

“All good, I'm glad to hear things are running smoothly” Ranthas cast a glance at the letter on his desk. “But you made the journey here for something else entirely. Something got you worried enough to pull away from the boughs of the south. Tell me what you have found out about the young woodsman.”

“You knew? Well what I know is he's a difficult student to teach.” But at this the southerner paused “He is interested in everything we can teach him, don't get me wrong. It's just our truths don't appear to apply. His connection with the green is transient, he cannot approach the tooth and claw with clarity. His callings go unheard and beyond the basics his herb lore is unfocused. If this is the future of the druidic order, if he is all we were expecting of him then I can't see it. He's no druid.”

“I understand, I had come to some of the same realisations.” Seeing the look of confusion on Falridge's face the Arbiter explained further “His Aunt visited me when he first approached you for his apprenticeship, she convinced me that despite his city ways that there was good reason to believe he had a future in the order. She visited me again last week, and in the same way convinced me that while Arwen does indeed still have that future with us, for the present his time in the forest is coming to an end.”

“Where is he to go? What future can he have without the full understanding of his connection? He will be no better than a hunter.”

“I have something to show you.” The Arbiter retrieved one of the parchments from the desk. “This design should be grafted to his palm.”

“Is this your work?” Falridge asked “No. The pattern... that should rejoin, but the ribbon and the cord are... this is not” Confusion held his tongue.

“Yes, I wish I knew where this pattern was from the folds in the web here and here,this position for the paw suggests to me that the tattoo will grow with whoever it is grafted onto, but see this.” He points to three lines that meet at a point.

“No druid would risk wearing that junction. Is that supposed to sit on the life line?”

“You see. This is to be our final gift to the boy. Though he might not thank us. I just wish that city woman could have told me who sent these letters. But she claimed she was just the messenger.”

“You want me to arrange an Inksmith to paint this into the boys skin?” Asked the visitor.
“Yes take the design and explain he is being dismissed, make it painless but explain he has not passed the tests or trials. We bid him fair well and advise him to find his own way. As a leaving gift the tattoo is both a keep sake and a way for him to access some of our gifts. Tell him he will learn more as his grows, that he will be welcome as a guest but that all we can teach he has learned.”

“What are we doing to this boy Ranthas?” Asked falridge.

“I wish I knew, we must continue to watch him and maybe in time we will learn something from him.”