Tag: Tempestras

  • The  Houses of Caernath Part 3

    The Houses of Caernath Part 3

    The Feast of Blood and Bond.


    The great hall of Emberhelm pulsed with firelight. Smoke curled upward from the long hearth, rich with the scent of charred lamb fat, root vegetables, and sweet herbs.

    It was a scent that stirred memory of winter hunts. Harvest feasts, and nights when the storm howled but the fire held fast.

    Taranis stood at the head of the long stone table. His arms folded behind his back, a rare softness in his eyes. To his right sat Lore, robes still dusted with ash from the spell that broke the curse. To his left, Drax toyed with his carving knife, his appetite as fierce as ever.

    But it was the spaces beyond that caught the eye.

    Boldolph sat with his broad, wolfish shoulders hunched, a strip of roast meat gripped in one clawed hand. Morrigan.

    Once white wolf, now flame-haired woman, laughed as she stirred a pot near the hearth beside Solaris. Who sprinkled crushed nettle and wild garlic into the steaming soup.

    And near the fire, two boys sat on a bench Nyx and Rayne. The latter still bore the bruises of captivity, but his shoulders had relaxed, his collar gone. Nyx offered him a chunk of honeyed root and a crude wooden spoon. The boy’s smile was slow, cautious. But it came.

    Taranis raised a horn of wild berry wine.

    “Tonight, no war. No judgment. No weight of kingship or curse. Tonight, we eat.”

    A cheer rang through the hall.

    The first course was served hearth-brewed vegetable broth, thick with barley, wild leeks, and stinging nettle. Simple, earthy. Morrigan’s touch. The nettle had been boiled thrice, mellowing its sting but keeping its iron-rich heart.

    Then came the main feast braised lamb neck, rubbed with ash salt and roasted on iron spits. It fell from the bone into honeyed mash made of parsnip and turnip, flanked by fire-roasted carrots. leeks, and bruised apples wrapped in dock leaves.

    A vegetarian version of roasted nuts, wild mushrooms, and legumes. Bound with barley and wild garlic was passed to those who’d taken vows of gentleness.

    The hall grew louder with warmth and full bellies. Solaris poured ladle after ladle of broth. Boldolph, face still savage, offered a growled blessing in the tongue of old wolf-warriors. Even Lore smiled briefly.

    And then came dessert.

    Forest fruit compote slow-stewed blackberries, crab apples, and hazelnuts served over a rough cake of grain and honey. It wasn’t sweet in the way of sugar, but it hummed with the wild tang of the land.

    As the fire cracked lower, Taranis rose once more.

    “We have reclaimed brothers,” he said. “Rayne is free. Draven will return soon. Boldolph and Morrigan have chosen forms of their own. Solaris has cast down his chains. And you my kin you have chosen your Houses.”

    He turned, gesturing to three newly hung banners behind the head table.

    Tempestras storm-grey with blue lightning: the House of the Storm.

    Ignis flickering red and gold: the House of the Flame.

    Umbra shadowed silver moon eclipsing a burnt-orange sun: the House of the Shadow.

    “Caernath lives again,” Taranis said. “Not through conquest but through kinship. Through the storm we were broken. But by fire and shadow, we are reforged.”

    Rayne rose, slowly, holding up a crude carving the three brothers etched into a cairnstone, side by side.

    “Then let it be known,” he said, “that Stormborne is no longer just a name. It is a vow.”

    Lore pressed a hand to the stone, then nodded.

    “A vow… and a future.”

    And beneath the storm-beaten beams of Emberhelm, the wolves howled once more not from pain or exile, but from joy.

    Feast Notes (Modern Budget Version approx. £10 total):


    Starter:

    Wild Nettle & Leek Soup

    Nettle leaves (free if foraged)

    Leek or spring onion

    Pearl barley

    Garlic & herbs

    Main:

    Braised Lamb Neck or Shoulder (cheap cuts)

    Honey-roasted root veg (parsnip, carrot, turnip)

    Mashed turnip/potato

    Vegetarian choice: wild mushroom & nut loaf

    Dessert:

    Berries & Graincake

    Stewed blackberries/crab apples

    Honey/oats cake

    Optional: hazelnuts

    Further Reading

    The Prophecies and Tales of Taranis Unfolded

    The Chronicles of Drax

    Join the Adventure in Tales of Rayne’s Universe

    Ancient Magic and Myth of the Stormborne

    The Houses of Caernath – Act I: The Broken Howl

    The Houses of Caernath – Act II: The Forgotten Blood

    Solaris’s Kitchen:

    Rustic Bronze Age Lamb Recipe: A Diabetic-Friendly Delight

  • The  Houses of Caernath Part 1

    The Houses of Caernath Part 1

    The Broken Howl.

    The screams echoed off the stone walls of Emberhelm like the wind of old gods mourning. They weren’t screams of pain, but of release centuries of silence and curse unraveling into the night.

    Morrigan collapsed first, the white fur shedding in great clouds that shimmered like frost. Her limbs twisted, reshaped. Bones cracked. Light laced through her as though fire ran in her veins.

    When it was over, she knelt there, naked and human once more. Tall, slim, freckled, her long red hair cascading down her shoulders like the sun had kissed her into being.

    Lore, standing nearby with his hands still outstretched from the spell, stumbled back, exhausted. His voice trembled.

    “It is done.”

    Boldolph did not scream.

    He roared.

    A roar that turned the blood of every warrior in Emberhelm cold. His black fur thickened, but did not fall away. His body bulged with new strength arms growing longer, spine broadening, but the wolf did not vanish. Instead, the man stepped ahead from the beast, and what remained was both.

    A wolf-man. A warrior unlike any other.

    Lore turned to his brothers. “Boldolph chose this. A warrior’s form. His path remains in the hunt, not the hearth.”

    Taranis watched, silent, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Morrigan, now fully clothed in a borrowed shawl, stepped across the courtyard to a waiting man her husband. They embraced without fear.

    “She’s still loved,” Taranis muttered, half to himself.

    Lore heard him anyway. “And no one fears them now. Not like they did you.”

    Taranis smirked, eyes glinting. “If she wasn’t married, I’d have made her mine.”

    “Careful,” Drax chuckled from behind, sharpening his axe on the stone steps. “You’re a warlord, not a poet.”

    Taranis turned, expression softer now. “He screamed, you know. Our father. The night I was exiled.”

    Lore nodded. “He didn’t know what to do. But he regretted not letting you stay. Mother wept for months. Still wore your wolf bone pendant long after we buried it in the cairn.”

    “Did they know I was alive?”

    “They did.” Lore crouched, drawing a symbol in the dirt. “Boldolph kept them informed. Something about the tribe’s elder being the only one who can hear his thoughts. Said our ancestor lived in you.”

    Taranis gave a dry laugh. “Our ancestor, eh? Boldolph told me that too. Great-grandfather five times back, wasn’t it?”

    Drax’s voice cut in. “Father called to Boldolph when you were exiled. Said the storm had swallowed you whole. What happened out there?”

    Taranis exhaled, jaw tight.

    “Adventure. Hunger. Despair. I was nearly dead when Solaris’s father found me, just beyond Blackclaw territory. They took me in. His father made me a slave, heavy work for little return. I treated his son in exchange for scraps. But Solaris he remembered me. He saw more than a starving boy.”

    Lore rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

    “You survived.”

    “I endured,” Taranis corrected.

    He stepped ahead and raised his voice so all gathered hear.

    “Boldolph. Morrigan. Solaris. You are free now. The chains of old curses, of blood debts, and oaths not chosen gone. But I ask you this…”

    He paused, turning slowly.

    “Will you stay?”

    The fire pits roared to life, casting flickering gold over the three freed souls. Solaris stood tall, still bearing the ash-mark of Flamekeeper. Morrigan leaned into her husband’s side, eyes scanning the faces around her. Boldolph’s red eyes flared, unreadable.

    Taranis continued, “There are three houses in Caernath now. The House of the Storm — for warriors and defenders. The House of the Flame for healers, lorekeepers, and seers. And the House of the Shadow for scouts, spies, and those who walk the forgotten paths. Each of you has earned a place, should you wish it.”

    He looked to them, one by one.

    “If you leave, so be it. With my blessing. With food. With horses so the fair lady no longer walks barefoot through bramble. know this: your path and mine will cross again. Whether as friend or foe… that remains to

    A few chuckled.

    “But if you stay…” he added, softer now. “then the food is yours to share, we shall ride and fight together as brothers and sisters.”

    Lore stood beside him, arms folded. “Three houses. Three choices.”

    Drax, ever the blunt one, added, “But don’t take too long to decide. Winter’s hunting season comes fast.”

    Silence.

    Then Solaris stepped ahead.

    “I will stay.”

    His voice was calm, like embers beneath ash.

    “But not as a servant. As a Flamekeeper. As a free man.”

    Taranis nodded once. “Then take your place in the House of the Ignis”

    Boldolph came next, stepping ahead with thunder in his stride. His beast-form loomed, but he knelt low before Taranis.

    “I stay,” he growled. “But not as man. Not as beast. As both. I fight with you. For Stormborne.”

    Taranis placed a hand on the wolf-man’s brow. “House of the Tempestas then.”

    Morrigan stepped ahead last. The crowd held their breath.

    “I have known healing. And fury. And grief. But I choose to give life now, not chase vengeance. I will stay… as a healer.”

    Lore smiled.

    “House of Umbra welcomes you.”

    The wind picked up. Overhead, Pendragon flew a wide arc above the fort, and the sky shivered with promise.

    Taranis raised his voice once more.

    “The Houses are chosen. The bonds are made. The future begins now forged in flame, bound by oath, tempered by storm.”

    And far below, in the silent stones of Emberhelm, the echoes of curses past gave way to something new.

    A howl not of sorrow.

    But of belonging as a mysterious stranger approached.

    “I know to well how brothers can turn on each other ” a voice behind them said one they vafukey recognised

    Drax arched a brow “rayne? Little brother is that you? We thought you lost?”

    Rayne Nodded a thick iron coller around his neck with black claw marking in

    “Who did this ” Tanaris whistles for Pendragon as his brother collapsed through torture and starvation

    “Black Claw they still have Draven”

    “I going to wipe that clan out ” Tanaris said

    “NO YOUNG ONE NOT ALONE” boldolph said

    “Morrigan he’s doing it again can I eat him or Pendragon” Boldolph said seeing the young one Tanaris flying towards enemy land as if to rescue another brother

    Morrigan looked over “he will return now Rayne”. she ordered as Solaris prepared food and she gathered healing herbs.

    post script

    Which House Do You Belong To?
    In the lands of Caernath, every soul has a path.

    Do you crave thunder and battle like Boldolph? You belong to House Tempestras the warriors.

    Do you heal with fire and memory like Solaris and Morrigan? House Ignis calls you the keepers of lore and flame.

    Do you move in shadow, unseen yet ever watchful? Then step into House Umbra where secrets become power.

    🧭 Tell us in the comments: Which house would you choose and why?
    Feel free to share this post and invite others to find their stormbound path.