#gouvle

[monasteryofsaintatraft]

Welcome to Harvestide.

Ever since the opening of Omenpaths, the town of Breathold have experienced many changes. First off, the omenpaths to the Sokezan Mountains, found in the center of the town square, naturally would allow the visit of foreigners. Tourists from the urbans and rurals villages could come forwards, curious at the event of this exotic plane: Harvesstide.

The doors and walls quickly were invaded by glowing pumpkins with candles. Tables and cauldrons were disposed at the borders of the forest, as the cooks brought the delight of the festivities: Pies, cookies of honey, lamchops bathed salt, cidar for the childrens, soft drinks for the adults. The locals of Innistrads, with the coming festivals, quickly wore their cloaks and masks, mimicking the usual fauna of the forest. Tought, a few innovators weavers and tailors, have found upon their curious hands, a few "luminious dyes", coming from exotic insect and mushrooms found in the caves. Soon, people dressed as geists joined the tumult, mixing among the locals geists and new kamis. An strange scene indeed, was for the old monk, perched on his lonely cabin.

Gouvle clenched his mask: Of rough carpenter work, it was supposed to look like an ram, yet the snout was too plain, while the horn was too thick, while the other too thin.

"Looking with intense sorrow, won`t transform it Gouvle" An old witch interrupted his toughts, Katarine, wearing an canine skulls of bones as her mask.

"I couln`t accept the generosity of the carpenter this year, Katarine. I desired to do this work on my own." Excused Gouvle, as he accomodated the mask alongside his priestly hat.

The witch laughed in endearment, as her curious eyes fell in the strange visitors. "Mmh. You managued to contract the services of an witch Gouvle?" She asked, as the monk observed the scene at the east of the town. Floating candles akin to the Coven Dawnhart, decorated the road, leading to an collection of crimson tents.

"Biilziebub" Whispered the monk in annoyance.

"One of your many new friends?" Asked Katarine nonchalantly.

The monk waved his head, diffuminating his angry tought.

"Bah. I made an truce with the demon prince for this day. I doubt that he will break it, specially with the visit that will arrrive soon." Gouvle grabbed his staff, descending to the town alongside Katarine and his geists.

"Mmh, such as the goats that you lost?" Asked Katarine.

"Goats? Wich go--" Gouvle interrupted himself, once he regconized an goat. It was the animals that they sacrificed to the boggarts, the one filled with cheese. Looking pristine and alive.

But, Gouvle tought, if the goat came back? Did the devils too?

An rambuctious laughs was proliferated over the goat`s back, from a family of five goblins, as the ran toward the banquet.

The monk sighed, as the witch laughed. This wold be an interesting night.

[monasteryofsaintatraft]

Bugs domestication

Question to all the planes.

How hard is it to domesticate a bug, specifically ants the size of dogs?

The local herders dared to ask me this question.

[monasteryofsaintatraft]

The forest of Somberwald, is presumed to be the last virgin place of Innistrad. No werewolfs pack breaking the natural cycle, no taint of the undeads infesting the land and neither vampires daring to prowl in these land. Thus, the major dangers were the simplest animals, such as bears, worlds and hydras. Simple animals, who will be easily intimidated by the presences than follow me.

For today, I trust the preparations for the festival to my disciple back on Breathold. I needed to guarantee the means for calming the wolf of Shadowstep inmediately before Harvesttide.

I cannot guarantee that she won`t be inmediately influenced by the moon, and transformed once she set foot on Innistrad, evenwhile the silver sphere was on her weakest state. I needed hedge magic, to tame that issue.

The petrichor aroma bathe the woods, the ground was a bit treacherous with the rains of late. Good fortune that the kind roots form an solid path. At least, his foggy mind remembered this path, wich he walked a dozen times, to meet once again madam Katarine.

Madam Katarine, veteran druid or witch of Somberwalkd. An woman who refused to walk upon any paved road, or trespass any town walls. It`s been too long since her meet her, before the Turmoils.

Did she even survive against the horror of the moon and the oil-blooded monsters? My eyes teared a bit, to the tought of her demise. No, the life of such fantastic women couldn`t end as such.

I meet her during my late twenties, as I traveled once again among Somberwald`s roots, an worried Bodyguard being my only company. My stomach hurt, ever since I ate an fish from the water. The pain was so horrid, alongside the taste of acid, as I threw up my insides out.

I was ashamed by this. That as deads scythe approached, it would perish with the face full of sweat and red. I wouldn`t die saving someone lifes, in a vain attempt against and monster or in the middle of an epiphany. Nope, the foolish and idiotic Gouvle, would die in the middle of nowhere, from an tomb of vomits. Even Bodyguard was distraught, unable to help me in this state.

"Oh my, you don`t look so bright, humble priest" An femenine voice taunted me, as a woman clothed in robes of garments of linen and a coat of leather, covering her chest and arms. Her hand hidden under the fabric, where who know what kind of weapons she could hide.

Bodyguard quickly stood between me and the stranger, brandishing his fire and hatchet. The strange woman of the woods, simply smell it. She couldnt see it. "Mmh, an geist favour you? Well then, that means you aren`t with those sitick-butts of the Church. That make you an friend of mine. I am Katarine, lady of the walds, and you monk?" She shared an smile, one of dirty and broken teeths.

Of course I didn`t answer her question, my stomach was killing me. The only answer was the vomits of my past lunchs.

"Um. Did you eat an crude meat?" She opened her coat, as an hand blessed by nature and time on their scars, pressented an vial of rancid smell. "Come on, drink it." She ordered.

"Why?" I managued to ask, in disgut to the acidic flavour.

"I hate see people suffer by illneses" Was her simple answer.

To gift an valuable medicine to an complete stranger. That was a clear example of her sympathy for every living human.

My wrinkles deformed as I smiled at the memory, as my face was bathed by an man-made light. Once wich emanated, from floating candles. The candles, as vigilants wards, lied in front of a crude door. The cabin found under the root of two beech. The old witch, insisted that their roots could calm the mind from the assault of ill-intentioned geist. I believe her words.

The geist were calm. Even Karahaka, who ignored the nature of this plane and of who belonged this home, abandoned any sing of alarm.

I rested my fist on the door, one knot.

An aged voice, an feminine one, with an tired tone asked. "Who is there? Are you the geist from the orchard, do you seek your favourite meal?"

I exhaled in relief. "The first apple of the season, madam Ekaterine."

From the door peck, an imperfect of the wood, an green eye observed, first at suprise. Then half-close to distrust. After an huge sniff from the door, the winds and chorus of the animals calmed down. She remember me.

"Old friend, humble monk. The oil-poison didn`t steal you from the world." She welcomed, filled with relief.

"And I am relieved, that the forest didn`t lost their student." I greeted, hidding my childish joy for meeting her once again.

The door opened, as I walked in, followed suit by the presences.

[monasteryofsaintatraft]

The monk, was packing up all his little belonging, into his sack. The few wards, that he keeped after his capture, his journal, and a few kamiwagan coins, for an reminder of the plane.

The room that this strange building, the Cherry Blossom Orphanage, was austere. An bed and a desk. Even tought they were simple, he couldn`t erase this feeling of yearning. As he finally closed his sack, taking his staff, he send his goodbyes to the room. Possible, being lost among the birthing hallways and lost among the labyrinth passages.

As he walked down to the first floor, the two presences appeared. Master and Bodyguard. They changed little from this journey, unlike him. As the marks that the enforcers burned on their palms, burned with sorrow and sadness. Karahaka have become quite calmer, since the Hayazhi`s dead. That was enough for a few of the lost, to rest. But not all of thems. They refuse, to part away from him. It was for the adoration, of the few innistradi of their being, or the disagreement of the disparate reckoners, of to whose gang to return? Their deicison was on the end, to keep the bond.

Their footing was steady, firms. The connection of the reckoners with the akkis warrens, guarantting an safe pasage back to Innistrad. To the same omenpath, who unleashed all this journey.

He seeked her, across the aisle. As he hitted the ground, across the passages. He glimpsed the other tenents, the witted cepahalid Vasro. The solitary assasin, Leta, meditating. The dokuchi, welcoming him and chatting with each other.

During his standee, his faith and emotions, birthed two spirits. Hikariseizon, birthed from his hope against the cruelties of the enforcers. The beast of an griffin, who now it`s body surround every room of this realm. This creature, he would leave behind. It was an painfull decision, to leave behind, such a good company. An creature, who refuse to part away from him, in his lowest moment....His son.

"Hikari" He called to the kami griffin, who always watched him over the roof. "Where is your sister".

The creature birped in reply. Its animalistic roars and birps, understood as the words of his people. The second kami, Tsurutsuki, the kami of the heron moon. She was different from her brother. Cause, she was born from his faith. Its memories from the church, the prayers to Avancyn, the adoration to the heron moon. An moon, wich doens`t exist in Kamigawa. She, was a foreigner, in this plane.

She, also was in conflict, with the philosophies, tolerances and methods of the dokuchis. Trying to judge both kamis and mortals, that if they deserve to be banished, based on fear. The monk sighed in dissapointment, wondering, if that irrational justice of her, was products of his fears.

He found her, scurrying the lose blades and spoons of the ground. An statue, smaller that his legs. In the form of an heron, with an halo of silvermoon. "Tsurutsuki, kami of the heron moon" I adress her.

"Fa-Gouvle, monk of the Order!" She chirped with emotion."You...You are parting away?" She ask, now with her spirit low, as she notice my bags.

"Yes. I must return back home, with my flock. They will need my guidance, during our mourning, for those lost" The lost, that now are part of Karahaka. I clench my staff, as the memories of this injustice.

"As you shall too" He adress the kami. She tilt with her small frame, confusing; "Me?". She ask.

"You are an being, who belong to Innistrad. Not here." Gouvle tries to explain, yet he percieve the kami renuance. It`s understandable, he is asking her, to abandone this home, for an strange land. "Tell me Tsurutsuki, have you seen the moon?" The moon, she was endeared by the moon. The center of his faith.

"I did. The moon of this plane. It felt wrong. It doesnt have an heron, it isnt made of silver" She turn back on the monk, as she observe the window, where the moon shy between the lights of the city.

"Cause, you belong to Innistrad. I discussed with Koda. We both agree, that you should come with me. There, you will be properly revered, and you will undesrtand better your nature." He explain to her, yet she still have doubt.

"What about my brother? Will he follow us?" She ask, with an hint of sorrow. As I negate it, she cower.

"What if your flock. Despise me, as so does these mortals." Gouvle sigh, as these worries of the kami. Another motive, as to why he should taker her with him. Her temperament, wasn`t suited for the Dokuchis.

"They need guidance, protection. Everyone in my plane need it. An what gift you have." He extend his hand, to the kami. "What is my gift?" She asks.

"Hope. You will bring hope, to peoples, who witnessed the dead of her guardian." The monk cry, in silence. At the memory of the Travails`s lost. The kami, jump to his hand.

"Very well, Gouvle. I will follow you." She declare, her weight as feather on the monk`s hand.

The monk, could only smile, as he took his family, back home. To Breathold.

( @jasper-graphics, credit for the dividers)