“A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of Men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we Hike!”
The year 2020. The 15th sunrise of the month November. A terrible winter breeze blew. Ferocious rain pelted down from the heavens. 10 brave orders of BCC members slung their packs and steadied their walking staffs. Their quest; to tackle the ancient mountains of Mourne.
Our Chief Scout and Wind Runner Rónán laid out the ancient map scrolls. He passed one scroll to our leader and Bondsmith Ser Jamie. Using the ancient Earth magic of compass we set our trajectory into the forests of Tollymore.
The protection of the forest was short lived. We soon broke out into the wilds of the Pot of Legawherry. We skirted the unnamed hill and forged through the rain and wind to the old wall that marked the next leg of our journey. Stoneward Kyle took point and led the fellowship through raging rivers and treacherous terrain. Nearing the summit of Shan Slieve our fellowship was to fail.
Wise Elsecaller Niall along with our leader Jamie broke off half the party towards easier terrain.
“End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Down is just another path, one that eventually we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it. White shores, and beyond, a far green forest under a swift sunrise."
So 5 orders of BCC Radiants remained to complete the quest. Onto the summit of Shan Slieve we went; fighting into the wind. Every step a chasm to span. It felt like even the Spren of nature were fighting against us. Edge Dancer Eva in her cloak of majestic blue glided over the summit and onto the final elevation of Slieve Commedagh, closely followed by Robyn of the Sky Breakers and Light Weaver Lisa. With Rónán and Kyle in tow, we all made it to the ancient fortress on the summit for a brief respite from the wind and what was now sleet. It felt like Odium himself had summoned an Everstorm to stop our quest. The mountains were bursting with new rivers. Streams became torrents. Ancient fords became uncrossable.
With a renewed focus we battled from the shelter and took along the ancient Mourne Wall over Corragh. We ran, we slipped we prevailed. Over Slievenaglogh. We bounded over the terrain for something visceral; an urge to return to regain the warmth of our failing bodies. We crossed the wall on the old fabled stile. Down the mountain side along the now many tributaries of Shimna. The Trassey track called us home. Step by step, gate by gate. Paths dissolved into rivers under our feet. One last frightful river crossing stood in our way. The once dry boots of Wind Runner Rónán even had to succumb to the Spren of the water.
The long walk home continued on. A shrine of kings couldn’t distract us from our goal. Finishing though the dense Tollymore woods we came upon the Cathedral of the Outdoor Centre. For victory and warmth. We managed to slip off our wet cowls and dawn dry majestic robes. Ready for our next great adventure to reaffirm our oaths…
“Life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination.”
Quotes from LOTR by JRR Tolkien and The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson
