Difference between revisions of "Corby"
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* '''Fair:''' Deceit (+2), Resources (+2), Will (+2) | * '''Fair:''' Deceit (+2), Resources (+2), Will (+2) | ||
* '''Average:''' Fight (+1), Athletics (+1), Empathy (+1), Notice (+1) | * '''Average:''' Fight (+1), Athletics (+1), Empathy (+1), Notice (+1) | ||
+ | ==Stress== | ||
+ | * '''Physical:''' 2 | ||
+ | * '''Mental:''' 3 | ||
</div> | </div> | ||
===Once-and-Future Raven King=== | ===Once-and-Future Raven King=== |
Revision as of 13:44, 5 July 2013
Contents
Folklore
Everyone knows in the olden days, a prince or princess had to be careful. If you were too haughty or too witty or too lovely, you might be stolen away on a misty winter's night to come to the Court of the Raven King, to dance among the snow-clad roses and feast of the tables of the Mistyholt.
In all the patchwork lands of the Tapestry, there were stories of him: the Raven King, the Corby Man, Black of Feather, Maid-Taker, the Mist-Cloaked, the Minstrel of Crows, Youth-Snatcher, the Blackthorne Lord. Clad in a cloak of coiling mists, with his Blackthorne Stave in hand and a raven upon his shoulder, the lovely Lord of Mistyholt came.
Entire traditions within the cultures of the Tapestry came about because of him: the Aubenwrathi forbade their children to leave their homes without the veils and scarves they are known for, lest he see their beauty. Villages in Beldenshire are surrounded in whitethorne hedges, known to keep mists and the power of blackthorne out. Midwives in Sargeras mark the faces of newborns with a tiny knife, to mar the perfect beauty of a newborn, just as the tribesmen of Yranmure all tattoo the faces of the newly-initiated twelve-year-olds of their tribes to aver his gaze. Maidens who think too much of their own beauty find their mirrors stolen from their rooms and left outside the house door in winter, their glass smeared with raven's blood, to ward away the Raven King and to warn the young girl of the dangers of her pride.
Scarecrows Tapestry-wide are often given heads of white woolen hair and black surcoats with cloaks of black feathers and a black staff in hand, hoping to convince the crows that the field of crops is claimed by their king so they will leave it uneaten. Finding a dead crow is bad luck, particularly if it was killed by the hand of men; bringing it to a thorne-crone can aver the Raven King's wrath, however, as can burying the dead bird at the base of a stand of blackthorne.
Aspects
Skills
- Great: Lore (+4)
- Good: Rapport (+3), Stealth (+3)
- Fair: Deceit (+2), Resources (+2), Will (+2)
- Average: Fight (+1), Athletics (+1), Empathy (+1), Notice (+1)
Stress
- Physical: 2
- Mental: 3
Once-and-Future Raven King
Corby was once the Raven King. The legend of the Raven King is closely entwined with corvids of all kinds: ravens, crows, corbies, jackdaws, rooks and magpies. They are his true subjects, and he their true and only liege. It is said that he could speak freely with them, and they with him. His feathered subjects are found all over the Tapestry, and their cold black eyes watched for him, bringing him interesting whisperings every day at twilight: news of kingdoms and battles, the doings of mortals great and small, and most especially where the most beautiful youths and maidens might be found to be brought to his great hidden tower, Mistyholt.
In battle, the Raven King was known to have summoned great clouds of fierce ravens and birds, virtual storms of tearing beaks and talons. Great murders of crows were thought to herald his arrival to an area, and many communities put aside a small portion of the grain from their harvests, called the Crow's Portion, to leave out in the winter snows for the black birds, with requests that they tell the Raven King nothing about them.
His legend also speaks of a few noteworthy subjects: the thirteen Raven Knights, a murder of massive eagle-sized ravens who were his fiercest defenders; the Jackdaw Viziers, who gathered the lore the other birds brought to him and presented the most noteworthy; his Blackthorne Rooks, sanctified witchbirds who visited those old women called thorne-crones by the superstitious; and his Courtier Crows, beautiful jewel-breasted birds who acted as the boon companions of the children of his Stolen Court.
Eye for Beauty
Bright shining eyes
Where the raven flies
When parts the mist
All winter-kissed
A son or daughter dies!
- A Midwife's Wisdom from Aubenwrath
Round spins the pretty lass, pretty lass, pretty lass!
Long about the Winter-Mass, Winter-Mass, Winter-Mass!
Her song it calls the Corby Man, Corby Man, Corby Man!
And dancing fine he takes her hand, takes her hand, takes her hand!
Kissing brow he does not say, does not say, does not say!
When seek her kin she's gone away, gone away, gone away!
To Mistyholt behind the sky, behind the sky, behind the sky!
To sweetly dance and never die, never die, never die!
Raven's beauties laugh and sing, laugh and sing, laugh and sing!
But ne'er beyond the tower's ring, tower's ring, tower's ring!
Once the mists have grayed the day, grayed the day, grayed the day!
Little lass is borne away, borne away, borne away!
- A Child's Skipping Song from the Eastern Lands
The most notorious trait of the Raven King is his eye for beauty. Like his subjects, he is attracted to that sudden beauty which catches his fancy. He does not favor shiny objects, however, to line his nest with. Instead, youths and maidens catch his eye, those old enough to bear the beauty of their adulthood, but not old enough to be sullied by the march of years.
When the Raven King makes himself known in the world, it is most often to carry away some sweet-voiced lass or a bright-eyed youth. He never does this by violence, but rather by his supernatural allure and otherworldly beauty. He most often comes to those who experience some kind of trouble, anger or melancholy, and offers them an alternative to the dull and troublesome life they know.
What youth or maid in such a state of mind would not wish to be whisked away to a magical place with others like them, eternally-beautiful young men and women, in a place of wintery beauty, to an ever-lasting ball where winter-blooming white roses waft music as well as perfume, and the feasting tables are never emptied?
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By Mists Unseen
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The Blackthorne Stave
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