The Gift of the Priestess

In a small village to the south of the land now called Ásaterra, a young priestess lived, tending the altar of Lady Death. She was a beautiful young elf maiden, with hair as dark as a raven’s wing, and eyes as green as the leaves. She spent her days in service to the people of the town, healing the sick, supporting the elderly, and teaching the children to read. She was beloved by all.
One day, a child vanished from the village. The villagers all came together, hunting far and wide for a trace of the missing child. Crops went untended in the field; the anvil fires went cold; the lord left his hall and searched through the woods with the townsfolk on hands and knees, but there was no sign of the boy. The loss of a child is a great grief to Southern folk, but they are not a people to give up. A further search was planned for the next morning, and the hearthfires were kept burning bright in case the child needed to find his way back home. However, when they awoke the next day, another child was gone. And so it continued; each morning, the village would wake, and a child would have vanished without trace. A watch was set each night; the children would all be taken to the Lord’s hall and locked up and guarded. But still, every morning, one would be gone.
Now, the priestess was known to be as wise as she was kind. The lord begged her to help the villagers, and she was more than happy to do so. For three days and three nights, she fasted under the great yew tree which held the goddesses altar. On the third night, the goddess came before her, and the priestess begged her for aid.
‘You bear my symbol,’ the goddess said, ‘Now bear my blessing.’
And she blessed the iron amulet that the priestess wore. Then she handed her her own cape of shadows, and shrouded the priestess in it’s folds.
The priestess returned to the lord’s halls, where she was locked inside with the guards and the remaining children. She waited until the early hours of the morning, when suddenly a strange mist washed over the room. The guards all drooped, as though caught in an enchanted sleep, but the priestesses amulet burned against her skin, and she managed to resist the sorcery. She crept back, hiding behind a pillar as a woman with hair of starlight and eyes as black as the sky appeared in the room from nowhere. She was the most beautiful creature that the priestess had ever seen; her face was so lovely, and so kind that she hardly seemed real. It was only when she smiled that the priestess saw her razor teeth lurking behind her blossom pink lips.
The woman strode forwards and took a sleepy child by the hand, beginning to lead him away. Every fibre of the priestess’ being strained to stop her, but she was wiser than to do so. She knew, deep in her soul that this was no mortal creature, and that she would not be able to defeat her by force.
Pulling the cloak of shadows around her, she stepped out and followed the creature noiselessly through the village, concealed by the power of the Dark Lady. The creature moved swiftly, her hair sparkling in the starlight, and soon they had approached the foot of one of the tall, jagged mountains to the east of the village.
The creature vanished through a crack in the mountainside, and the priestess followed her, heading deep inside the mountain. There, she saw all the missing children in some sort of dream; their clothes were ragged and their eyes hollow, but they smiled and laughed and sang as if they were at a festival.
Soon, the creature left the mountain, and the priestess rushed forwards to try and awaken the children, but to no avail. Finally, she sank to her knees, and as she pressed her hands to her chest, her thumb caught on the sharp cloak pin of the goddesses robe. A drop of blood splashed to the ground, but to her amazement, when it landed a sprig of scarlet berries appeared. When the child touched the berries, they blinked, and began to cry, suddenly awakened from their daze. The priestess quickly moved from child to child, pricking her thumb with Lady Death’s cloak pin. Each time, a sprig of berries formed, and when a child held them, they were released from the spell. Gathering all the children together, the priestess led them back to the village, where the people of the town rejoiced to see them.
However, the creature was enraged when she returned to find her collection gone. She descended on the town in fury, her terrible eyes glittering with vengeance. The warriors of the town drew their swords, but she cut them down one by one with terrible magics, her talons slick with their blood. The priestess threw the cloak of shadows over the children, gathering them into it’s endless depths to hide them from the monster, and channelled all her magic to defend against this creature, shielding as many villagers as she could from harm. Finally, the monster reached her, and the priestess felt her barrier beginning to fail. Desperately, she called out a prayer to her goddess to protect the village, just as the barrier shattered. The creature plunged her talons into the priestesses chest, but as her heartsblood fell upon the ground, a great rowan tree sprouted, rich with blood red berries. The creature screamed as if burnt as the wood of the tree touched her, and turned and fled from the town.
From that day on, all the townsfolk kept the red berries of the rowan tree hanging above their door, and the creature never came back.

Cultural Reception

A traditional southern folktale from the lands of Clan Dubhdris. It is connected with the southern tradition of carving rowan wood amulets and hanging dried rowan berries over a doorway. It is also thought to be linked to the Southern belief that red is a protective colour, which is why it is one of the colours of the Warriors of the Black Sun.

Date of First Recording

c.4000BU

Date of Setting

The Age Of Darkness