And so we establish our cadence. A weekly blog post on a thing to do with Alba, and then – when we have one to share – a bit of in-universe fiction to set the scene.

And so it came to pass that Lucan of Brennan came to the village, and behind them walked a Keeper.

Lucan who forged the peace of Brennan, who held the walls of Watt, and who fed the village of Marked with their own bow.

Rumour spread through the Village like a brushwood fire, and soon they stood before the circle on the edge of the lands and spoke:

“Today I bring you glory, and I bring you warning. The first, this evening I shall hold court, and whoever brings me a tale of something done for this village, we will make their tale eternal. Second, to the west is a large group of those who have fallen to the Rat, and on the morning I shall lead your warriors and hunters to their lands, for persuasion or eradication.”

That evening, around the great fire, the story was told of Kloe opening the doors of his barn over winter when a fire had destroyed much of the village, and how his family had fed and housed the newly-homeless of the village from their own reserves until spring. The Keeper made their strange scratched symbols that the villagers knew would soon spread far and wide, and Kloe spoke humbly in the name of the Farmer.

In the morning, with their spears and shouts, villagers followed Lucan into the west, and they returned soon after, Griftson held aloft after having fought off a dozen of those fallen to the Rat while her compatriot lay wounded.

As they feasted that night, her heroics had been told to the Keeper, who now knew of the legend, and would take it to eternity, and she drank freely that night.

Lucan had travelled north after the fight, and by the morning the Keeper had also left for the strange lands only they know, and the village fell back to its normal routine.