Its been a while since I visited the Ragged Coast of Jaggar's Ironlands. I have to confess, I've rather missed it. I wrote this prologue last year when I was preparing to begin season 2 of my original Ironsworn series. Life, stress, and time got the better of me and I never progressed passed a portion of the opening chapter. Perhaps, now that I'm itching to play Ironsworn again, I'll pick it back up. I hope you enjoy this visit to Jaggar's Ironlands!
Four weeks have passed since Stonetower's failed attack on Olgar's Stand. Chieftain Serene has sent every available tracker, hunter, and scout she could find in search of the Magister, an evil sorcerer. The Magister hijacked the wills and minds of the people of Stonetower, forcing them to invade the village of Olgar's Stand. None of the scouts who returned found any trace of the elusive magician.
Until now. A scout has returned with news of a potential sighting of Serene's quarry...
Olgar's Stand
The Ragged Coast
Serene slumped in her chair, the early summer sun trickling into her chambers from the half open window. She didn't notice. The Chieftain of Olgar's Stand had spent another night lost in dark thoughts.
Sendra, her second, leaned against one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof of the longhouse smoking quietly on a long-stemmed pipe. The older woman's hand went to her sword when the doors banged open suddenly.
Serene shook herself from her thoughts in time to see a lone figure advance on the dais. Sendra moved to block the stranger but stopped a half dozen steps away. The stranger pulled back their hood, revealing the familiar face of Oddbjorn, Serene's only living relative.
"Niece," the older man said, bowing. "I bear tidings you will want to hear."
Oddbjorn was one of the village's most experienced trackers, and Serene had sent him south soon after the fighting ceased in pursuit of the Magister. She had feared him dead, in reality, and was heartened to see his wind-worn face.
"What word, Uncle?"
"Folk down Whitford way say strange things are afoot. Their spring harvest failed, despite showing signs of plenty."
Serene knew the spring harvest would have taken place about three or four weeks previous, near the end of the season. The chill of winter tended to last well into the spring thaw, and made the harvests later than in other parts of the Ironlands.
"Did you hear any reason why this might have happened?"
"Nay, niece. But it is curious. The soil seems to have turned to black sand. Seen it meself not a week back. A fine field all black and sandy, like the beaches on some of the barrier islands."
Serene and Sendra exchanged worried looks.
"You're sure the soil was black sand?" Sendra asked.
"Aye, Sendra. Black sand, there's no mistaking it."
Serene watched as Sendra's eyes crinkled and her brow furrowed in thought. She knew what the older woman was thinking.
"Any other news?"
"Aye, Whitford's chieftain has gone missing. Up and vanished from the longhouse a week and a half back. I was in the village when it happened. Some folk claimed to see a cloaked figure walking down the main street during the night."
"The Magister?"
"Might be. Might not be. But I thought you'd want to know."
"Thank you Oddbjorn. Please, go rest. You have done Olgar's Stand a great service."
"Happy to serve, chieftain." The scout bowed again and turned on his heel. He moved silently through the longhouse, and slipped out the doors.
Oracle
"What do you think Serene?" Sendra said, smoke puffing out of her mouth as she did so.
"I think I need to go to Whitford."
"It doesn't have to be you. Send Jaggar."
Serene knew her seneschal was only concerned for her safety and the well-being of the village. The attacks were still fresh in her people's minds, and they needed her leadership now more than ever. She did not deny that truth. But she also felt responsible for the Magister's escape, and had vowed on the iron of her chieftain's pendant to see them brought to justice.
"I did not appoint you seneschal because I needed an extra hand running the village. You knew when you agreed to this role that I might go after the Magister."
"Aye, I did. But I also promised Jaggar I'd be a voice of reason."
Serene smiled. Since their experience in the cavern and their return journey, her and Jaggar's relationship had changed. They were closer now, and romantic feelings were present on both sides. They'd even discussed making their relationship more permanent, but agreed to wait until the matter of the Magister had been resolved.
"Jaggar knows that I must do this. And he will come with me."
"Come with you where, Chieftain?" a deep, familiar voice echoed through the longhouse.
Serene stood and greeted Jaggar with a hug. "To Whitford."
"What's in Whitford?" he asked, his hands on her shoulders.
Serene informed him of Oddbjorn's report, and watched as the same realization dawned on Jaggar's face.
"I'll prepare a cart," he said. "When do you want to leave?"
"You two are no better than children," Sendra scolded, but the hardness of the words was belied by the small smile tugging at her mouth.
"Better to be a child than an overworked lump of metal," Jaggar retorted, smiling at his mentor.
Sendra huffed, sending a column of smoke up from the bowl of her pipe. "The disrespect!"
The three of them laughed together, the sound slicing through the tension in the room.
"Promise me you will watch each other's backs out there?" the older woman asked.
"You know we will."
Sendra nodded and closed her eyes, still puffing away on her pipe.
"How soon can you be ready to go?" Serene asked.
"By midday at the latest."
"I'll meet you at the stables then."
Jaggar nodded and left by the back door to begin gathering supplies for their journey.
Serene walked over to the large fireplace in the right hand wall and lifted a bone-hafted spear from a wooden stand on the mantle.
The spear was an old weapon, forged before the marsh had filled with sea water. It was passed down among her people that the haft was made from the bones of a ice-whale, a titanic creature that was said to once inhabit the deeps off the coast. The blade was sharp, and glistened black and silver in the morning light. She had trained with spears since she was seventeen, but before the attack a month ago, she hadn't used one in many years.
"I am going to the kennels," she told Sendra. "I think I'll take Adhra with us."
"A good nose will serve you well, I think," Sendra responded, never opening her eyes.
The kennels were located on the marshward side of the village. Serene had been coming to visit the hounds since before the Stonetower attack a month earlier and was bonding with one of the pups, a mottled blue and gray female she named Adhra.
When she stepped into the dimly lit run, the young dog sauntered to her, nudging her leg with her snout.
"Hello, Adhra," Serene said to the dog, leaning down to scratch her behind the ears. "How are you today?"
The hound barked happily and danced around Serene's legs as she strode down the run and into the small office.
"What can I do for you, Chieftain?" a heavy set middle-aged man said, rising when he saw Serene.
"Good day, Ghalen," Serene replied, smiling kindly. "A lead on the Magister came in this morning and Jaggar and I are heading south to follow up. If you think she's ready, I'd like to take Adhra along."
Ghalen eyed the cavorting hound with a smile on his face. "She's energetic, isn't she? I think she will do fine for you, though I wouldn't take her into any trouble. She's not trained for combat."
"Excellent. I've got to meet Jaggar soon, may I take her now?"
Ghalen stood and gathered a sack of feed and a harness off the wall and handed them to Serene. "Take care of our chieftain, little Adhra."
The dog happily followed Serene away from the kennels and through the village. Repairs were going well, Serene noted. Soon, it would be hard to tell Olgar's Stand had been attacked at all. Her people were a sturdy, determined group and she was proud of all they were accomplishing.
Jaggar smiled as she and the hound approached, and bent down to scratch Adhra behind the ears. After loading the feed and harness into the wagon, Jaggar helped Serene board and took up his spot in the driver's seat.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"I have to go. You know I do."
"I know. I just wish you would leave it to me."
"And let you have all the fun? I don't think so, Jaggar Kova. No chance." Serene punched him playfully in the arm.
They shared a laugh as the draft horse pulled the wagon between the thick posts of the gate and onto the southern road.
