Carcosa Dreams

Games, Events, Madness

Alba

The Spirit of the Red Cliffs

When my grandmother was young there was a village three days walk from here, so the Keepers say. It was atop the red cliffs, by the sea of ice, by the dark forest where the sun never shines. From the sea there was a narrow passage which wound up the cliff face from the rocks below, it was wide enough for one, or two if the person was small.

A tribe of fisher folk came upon the passage one day and ascended the cliff face to investigate the smoke from the village fires atop the red cliffs. They grew more and more curious as they ascended for it was so clearly well used.

A day upon the passage they came across my grandmother sat upon the Warrior Stone, a place of rest for the one tasked with protecting the village from the sea.

“Halt.” She called to the fisher folk. “None whose face I do not know go any further.”

“But fair warrior of the Albanni, how are we to trade with your people if we proceed no more.” Hissed the fisher folk.

“I have said my words.” She replied, taking up her spear in hand.

The battle was swift and three fisher folk were cast from the red cliffs to the rocks below before the rest fled a day back down the passage.

The next day still curios the fisher folk ascended the path once more.

Again they found my grandmother sat upon the Warrior Stone.

“Halt.” She called to the fisher folk. “None whose face I do not know go any further.”

“But fair warrior of the Albanni, do you not recognise me from the previous day, we seek to trade with your people.” Hissed the fisher folk.

“I have said my words.” She replied, taking up her spear in hand.

The battle was swift and three fisher folk were cast from the red cliffs to the rocks below before the rest fled a day back down the passage.

The next and third day even more curious the fisher folk ascended the path once more.

Again they found my grandmother sat upon the Warrior Stone.

“Halt.” She called to the fisher folk. “None whose face I do not know go any further.”

“But fair warrior of the Albanni, do you not recognise me from the previous days? We merely seek to trade with your people.” Hissed the fisher folk.

“I do see you fisher folk and have seen your faces.”

“Then we may proceed above?” Queried the fisher folk.

“I have said my words.” She replied, taking up her spear in hand. “I have seen your faces but do not know them.”

The battle was long and the remaining fisher folk were cast from the red cliffs to the rocks below. A day and a night passed before my grandmother could rest once more upon the Warrior Stone.

The village is gone now and my grandmother long dead. It is said that when the moon is full her spirit returns to the stone to take up her sacred duty once more.