Odhrán's Voice

Living in Stonetop
We came to Stonetop to settle down and leave our violent past behind us, but one certainty in life is that these hard-learned skills of mine will inevitably find themselves a use, try as I might not to.

For such a quiet place, a lot has happened in the four years we’ve been here.

We’d already heard from Brogan ; y'know, the trader from Gordin’s Delve that passes through this route each year? Stonetop sounded like a quiet place, one we could be a part of and raise our new baby girl in without worrying about the more unsavoury elements - (ha!) funny I know, coming from us - that you’d find in Gordin’s Delve. It’d mean we wouldn’t have to worry about being buried alive working stone or mining, and wouldn’t have to worry about the movements of the inscrutable Ustrina, or things flooding out from the Labyrinth.

Instead we have crinwin and The Great Wood at our feet, thunder drakes encroaching from the direction of The Flats, and brash ‘adventurers’ with shiny new gear, still smelling of their mothers’ milk, disparaging hard-workin’ folk and throwing their weight around.

Those are just the ones that the good folk here talk about when it comes to my, uh, ‘contributions’ shall we say? Not so much the crinwin; the locals have more experience facing their kind. Much respect to them, especially the effort Garrett goes to in organising the militia and Crew. I joined up with them in the first year we were here, part to help them keep an eye on me and largely so I could feel useful and integrate better into the community. Served with them for a year or so before there wasn't much need for an active Crew, and Rhiannon had hit the terrible twos.

=== Notable Exploits === Driving off a thunder drake through sheer physical presence and a good walloping when one came too close to town?

‘Politely encouraging’ those so-called-adventurers that yes, now was a good time to leave the village, and yes, I was well aware that the night was approaching; even taking a fist to the face and laughing it off; all while the Marshall who’d usually do this thing was off outside the steading? Those sorts of things leave an impression that gives folk something to talk about on a slow day.

Then something happened early last Summer, something that changed things for me, for my family; Tor’s tits, maybe even Stonetop itself.

You know the stone? The Stone, that the place is named for? It’s been here since forever, even before The Makers built here and later vanished; The Stone has been present the entire time. It’s Tor ’s Stone, or so the people say. If the lightning that it catches when storms ride over is any indication, then I’d say they’re right. Don’t worry, if you stay here long enough, you’re sure to witness it. Sure surprised me early Summer, the first few times a cluster of bolts would crack down in a row, more so when the locals barely blinked an eye; told me I’d get used to it eventually.

Anyway, the Summer storms can get pretty crazy, even if most of the lightning is called to The Stone, the winds and rain may tear up the place something fierce. Not everyone can skillfully build their home in stone and reinforce the structure like I can after all. So it was one of those storms, with Tor raging overhead, when we hear an almighty crash coming from nearby; far too close to be by The Stone.

I went out to check things were alright. Sometimes at night, I wonder if knowing what I do now, whether I would have gone out into the pouring rain, at the midnight hour, to dig my neighbour Bryn out from their collapsed home.

To be honest, I don’t remember too much about the whole thing, just hauling the debris away while hoping that I didn’t slip up - in either sense - and that they’d still be alive when I cleared it off. The way Bryn tells it, one moment they’d been sleeping through the storm, the next they woke up in pain and pinned beneath their roof and walls, the rain streaming in and threatening to drown them; the whimpering of a recently whelped puppy the only company they had in what they perceived to be their dying moments. Then the wreckage shifted away and, “like Tor himself descending”, an arm silhouetted by the storm above reached down and plucked Bryn from mortal peril and brought them into safety…

So it seems I hauled Bryn out, checked on their condition, then dug out the one puppy that had managed to survive; sadly the rest of the litter weren’t so lucky, though the mother ended up losing a leg, poor thing. Standing on top of the rubble and cradling the shivering wee thing, it seems I told Bryn that they were welcome to stay the rest of the night at our place and we’d take a look at the damage in the morning. I told them that “The worst of the storm is over, so you don’t have to worry about lightning striking you anytime soon”. And that’s when the lightning bolt hit me.

Don’t laugh.

Bryn tells it far better, and is more than happy to if experience serves correctly.

When I woke up, I was covered in these… markings ? Scars? Runes? Whatever they are, they look like the ones on The Stone, and seem to be tied to Tor and an expression of his power. Since then I’ve found myself growing stronger, faster, and tougher. Incrementally, but it's enough that I’ve begun to notice. I'm pretty sure Bryn 's noticed too. Bastard was always too perceptive for their own good, but they're keeping quiet for now; at least in regards to letting slip any new information.

I try and downplay it all. The folks here - myself included - hold Tor in high esteem, considering how he favours Stonetop so. Still the talk about being “Chosen of Tor ” and other such matters… Bryn told me some tales, but I’d rather focus on looking after my family and working towards a positive legacy by improving Stonetop for future generations.

Of course, it isn’t all positive on the Storm-Mark front, far from it.

Storm Clouds Overhead - The Past Year
Let’s start with the anger for one. I’d long learnt to let most things wash over me. You have to when you’re as large as I am. It’s either that or be a bully and a tyrant. I’d… really rather prefer not to go down that path.

Sure I’d get angry, but I could usually channel it appropriately when the time was right.

Now however? The first time I knew something was wrong was when I was helping a drunk back home from the Public House and they ended up berating me, insulting my wife, and punching me in the face. The next moment, it was like something seized through me and my fist was flying at his face.

If it wasn’t for Garrett commanding me to “Hold!” - my time as one of his Crew in the first year we were here instilling snap discipline that reached me even as I was, if only because I know I can trust him to always have my back - then I shudder to think what I would have done to the poor sot.

Urbgen the cobbler was not so lucky, though he did not quite deserve the extent it went to.

People knew that he was strict on his children, as you should be at times I think. It turned out it went beyond just a “light cuffing”, as he’d been known to explain. His thirteen year old boy, Aled, had made a right mess of the shoe his da had him working on, and when Urbgen found out he took it out on Aled 's hide.

We found this out after the fact of course; Maebh was the one who heard the commotion and told me it was a one-sided beatdown - believe me, she knows what one of them sounds like - I thought it best to intervene. I barged in, saw the sorry state Aled was in, and then the ever-present thunder rushed over me.

Urbgen can’t work his trade anymore, as I broke most of the bones in his right hand. I am sorry I injured him to that extent, but I’m not sorry that I did it. What I am sorry for is that I wasn’t in control at the time.

I’ve been supplying them the essentials; charcoal, grain; when I can. It’s extra work, but I’ve never been averse to a little extra labour, especially when I’m responsible for what happened, no matter how I might loathe him personally.

I can’t go getting angry like that, not when I’m trying to raise a family here in Stonetop.

Maebh and I are working on that, but apparently the neighbours have heard some of our shouting matches on the matter. It'd likely do more harm than good to try and explain it.

I need to get this; Tor’s goddamned “blessing ”; under control. Ride the lightning rather than the opposite.

If I don’t… I don’t know who’s going to keep Maebh from doing something dramatic. Maybe Blodwen? They get on like a house on fire, and her and I are pretty comfortable with each other, though she's been understandably brittle in ways since what happened with her boy.

She’s the sort of formidable woman Maebh would need beside her if the worst happened. Blodwen is mighty handy with both spear and hammer, so she’d be be able to help when… if, our past catches up with us. Rhee likes her too; Maebh and I think it might be the muscles.

I’d also be tempted to ask a great favour of Deryn to help look after Rhiannon ; modryb Deryn according to Rhee ; but I worry that the lass has too many worries herself, and not enough experience. I've been acting as a bit of a sounding board and confessor for her when her troubles get her all in a worked up into a knot. It's the sort of thing I do for Maebh when she needs it; so I'm used to cutting away all the dross to find the good stone at the heart of the matter.

She’s one of the brightest folk I know, and by Tor, her positive attitude is something that I try to work towards these days. She’s also Rhee ’s favourite; thus referring to her as aunt Deryn ; of the village caretakers, somehow making the kids learn important lessons while playing with them. That aside, it was apparently the fact that Deryn found me when I was bleeding and unconscious after I had a run-in with the cave bears that dwell nearby, and dragged me back to safety that really won her brimming affection.

I admire her, and I hope that someday Rhee grows up to be similar to her, though perhaps - hopefully - with less tendency to get herself and others in immense trouble.