zg_shadows | An unkindness of ravens (Reply)

The Skellig rocks, just off the coast of Count Kerry, Ireland

It would soon be dawn. The sky was still a dark hue, and the wind had kept its icy chill, but at the very base of the horizon, where sea met sky, a thin gold line was beginning to appear. It sent tendrils trailing across the water, which glittered in the thin pre-dawn glow.

At the base of the first great skellig rock, which stood out away from the land, surrounded by buffetting waves, a couple of birds were gathering. They were not seagulls, or puffins, as was normal for the Skellig rocks. Indeed, no a single seagull or puffin, or waterfowl of any kind could be seen. Instead they were larger, heavier birds, black feathered with cruel hooked beaks. Three or four of them were flapping from rock to rock, sticking close to the waterline. They chattered and called to each other, but their harsh voices were quickly drowned out by the crash of the waves on the rocks.

The sun began to shift a little further in the sky, and the brightness on the horizon became more pronounced. The sea was beginning to sparkle with little flecks of daylight when a second wave of the huge black birds flew in. This time there were seven or eight of them, all moving with startling grace in the air. They dipped and spun in the quick sea winds, before settling on a series of perches and ledges in the rocks, a little further up from the sea, and out of reach of the crashing waves. They leant over, peering down at the other birds, croaking out cracked greetings.

Up above, more birds were arriving. These birds flew in alone, beating out their own time with great outstretched wings, and some now called out greetings in human voices.

"Mornin' Nat, not seen you in a while..."

"How was your flight in, Wraithwind?"

"Don't like the look of this weather..."

"When are the Corvus arriving?"

They settled on the rocks and ledges close to the top of the giant rocks, and perched, continuing to chat. Some had stories of wolves and battles, and others talked of magic. Some spoke in apparently human voices, while others quickly dropped back into the croaks and clicks of the avians below. The black birds sat by the bottom of the cliff looked up, occasionally, flapping briefly upward to catch what had been said before returning to their lower, less comfortable positions.

The sky was now grey instead of black, and tinged with pink, and from the horizon more birds, who we shall now admit to be ravens, were coming in, carried with the morning light. They flew slow and stately, and as they came the ravens below fell silent, or into excited whispering.

"That's Ahishahur, the Ambassador to the Silver Fang king..."

"Look! Look! I thought she was dead..."

"The Tower! It's the Tower triumverate!"

No one seemed to require orders where to go. They landed carefully, apparently moving to preallocated places, one at a time.

Then, finally, two more ravens flew in. They came from the north, moving quickly with the ragged and slightly exhausted movements of wings that had spent too long time moving. One of them was a smaller raven whose wings seemed a dull and dusty black, unlike the smooth reflective black of her fellows. She moved to one of the uppermost rocks, settling just below the august triumverate whose earlier arrival had caused so much excitement. The second of the two ravens, an unusually large fellow, moved downward, towards one of the middle ranking rocks.

His friend shook her head, and leant out, balancing precariously over the ocean.

"Not there, Tolly. Move up a little closer."

There was a slight movement amongst all the ravens, as feathers ruffled and feet shuffled on rock. The small and dusty raven tilted her head to one side and looked up at the three sat above her.

"I think you all might want to hear this. Our boy Tolly has a good story for us. It's about some Garou, an elf, and something called a Bane Mummy..."

And as the sun crested the horizon, and bathed the Skellig rocks in glorious golden light, a couple of the ravens higher up the cliff face shifted aside to make room for Tolly. He flapped and clambered and staggered his way up there, settling down at last and plumping out his feathers in the breeze.

"Yeah..." he said. "It kinda goes like this..."

And the story was told, as a new day begun.