Avem Vir: Crows, Clay, Rock (Solo Session 1)

Avem Vir sat outside his yurt, watching crows to the east. Someone was coming. But who? He studied the crows as they circled over the forest. His owl, Nessana, was perched on her rest as always. She looked over at him. “Who is it?” Vir whispered. He stared at the crows a white longer before looking to Nessana.

“So I thought.” He stood and walked toward the shallow river which ran across his stead and fell sharply off the cliff to the east. Nessana took off, flying in wide circles. The crows landed as the mighty bird flew toward them. From his belt, Vir drew his iron spade and dug into the bank of the river, pulling up fist sized clumps of clay.

Quickly, he formed this clay into a crude, child-sized facsimile of a human. He whistled long, shrill, and loud. Nessana returned to him and landed on his shoulder. She hooted softly, and he adjusted one of the doll’s arms. He looked at her, and she blinked slowly. He nodded, made some minor adjustments to the doll, giving it thumbprint eyes and a bludgeon hand. She hooted. Vir put his mouth to the creature’s head and put out a hard breath. Nothing happened. He looked at Nessana. She gazed toward the river.

He nodded and walked to the river. He cupped his hands into it and carried it back to the creature, spilling the water over it. He tried again. This time, the creature stirred. Its eyes darkened, and its arms flexed. Nessana hopped to its head.

“Mmm,” Vir said.

Vir walked toward his yurt, beckoning the creature. It followed, moving quickly for a creature of its size. Vir sat on a stump just outside his door and gazed blankly at the path leading away from his house. The creature, Nessana still on its head, stood next to him.

Vir didn’t need to wait long. One by one, four riders carrying spears and wearing leather armor appeared on the path. He stayed put as they approached, standing only as they crossed the river, the water barely making it to their horses’ bellies. The one in front had a crest on his armor.

Go, Vir thought.

The little clay creature walked toward the riders, and Nessana flew to Vir’s shoulder. The riders stopped, studying the thing.

“Sorcerer,” the lead rider said, “I am Mallik, and I have come—”

“To collect my debt,” Vir said. The simulacrum stopped just in front of the lead rider’s horse and gazed up at him with his dark eyes. The rider’s horse rustled.

“Yes,” the rider said. “Jarl Bannerrock insists that you come to him at once.”

“Then he should have come himself.”

“I speak Jarl Bannerrock’s will.”

“Bannerrock has no power over the mountains, page.”

“The Jarl’s armies stand now west and east of the range, sorcerer. He will not be denied.”

Take it. The little clay simulacrum grabbed the soldier’s spear and tugged. The soldier held on momentarily, but the simulacrum yanked it from his grasp. As its strength became apparent, all four horsemen backed away.

“Nor will I,” Vir said. Break it. The golem snapped the spear in half and tossed the halves on the ground. “Tell Bannerrock he must come to me.”

“I cannot go to him empty handed, Sorcerer,” the soldier said. “But perhaps I could bring him your advice.”

“Ask.”

“Jarl Maeve of Ravencliff wishes to combine their circles by marriage. Jarl Bannerrock needs your help in making this choice.”

“The crows will not speak to me again today, page. I will ask tomorrow.”

“Then we shall camp here and await their answer.”

Vir nodded and went back into his yurt.