Mikelmerck - Sheep Society and heroic clothing

Sheep are the economic basis of Mikelmerck.  Without them, society does not function. 

Scrivener Wainwright, that self-proclaimed authority on all things Mikelmerck has this to say.

"It is a pity that more poets have not honoured the sheep in verse.  Surely their extreme utility and interesting habits deserve more attention.  The black-faced denizens of the hills are supremely hardy and in the words of their shepherds, "canny buggers".  

The shepherds tell me that the Mikelmerck sheep are matriarchal.  In their quaint way, they describe it thus: 

"Flock allus follows owdest ewe, never ram.  Hims but for tupping, no matter what 'e thinks.  Done and gone, but ewes is forever.  Reason being, if she'n not smartish, she'n not get to be owd.  Fight like helldogs if'n flock's threatened.  Ram does nowt but charge, but ewes gang up.  Tupping time, rams gets het up and fights, but not proper-like.  All manlihood that is, no bloodshed.  But I seen owd ewe hold off wolf afore now."

From this we may gather that the flock may be a formidable adversary.  When one also considers the amazing properties of their wool, much lauded in the present time and for many centuries before, one can only wonder at the absence of bardic acknowledgement."

Wainwright continues in the same eulogistic tone for some time.  He describes in detail his pursuit of the secrets of knitting runes into garments made from Mikelmerck wool and his frustration at the refusal of the great knitting families to share any information with him at all.

This is not surprising.  It is certainly true that many unique and magical items can be created using Mikelmerck wool, but such things are not given merely to the curious. 

An old tale tells of a feylord who sought armour to protect him from a gigantic wyrm.  In order to gain what he wanted, he asked dwarven smiths, elven metalcrafters and human women to create their best work.  The dwarves laboured for gold,  and the elves for magic, but the humans asked for nothing but their time.  Unable to pay the human price, he offered instead to enchant the flock leader so that she would always be able to call on fey help. 

The feylord chose the wool.  It helped him defeat the wyrm and since that day, all owd ewes have a connection to the fey.  None have ever forgotten it.

Mikelmerck - The Leap

A simple stone cairn on the edge of a cliff is known locally as the Leap.

Here a foolish noble did his best to prove his indestructability and all but succeeded.  Waylance Aske, scion of a noble house was determined to prove that the blood of the fey ran in his veins.  His chosen method was to ride his horse off the edge of the cliff - certain in his own mind that the fey would protect him.  In the event, gravity paid more attention than any passing fey and he landed with broken legs on his still more broken horse.  Rescued the following day, he claimed to the end of his life that his survival proved his fey blood.  He was not believed.

For all his foolishness, Waylance may have been right.  It is possible he simply misinterpreted an older and stranger story.  Long ago, it is said, poets and bards would take the Leap.  For the worthy, the fey would catch and hold them.  When they returned home, they would have the words of the fey in their ears ever after.  There was a price, of course.  Their ravings were couched in such terms that few could understand them.  If any leaped and survived, their names are unknown.  For those that did not, their bones still lie at the foot of the Leap.

Sometimes their spirits still walk.

Mickelmerck - Background to a borderland (1st day of advent)

Mikelmerck has always been borderland.

It borders the world of the fey and the mortal lands.
It borders the north and south of Albion, forming a barricade for both.
It borders fierce beauty and incredible danger.
Creativity and pragmatism.
Some say life and death.

Sleeping Older

For the followers of Cooshboth, the answers are simple.  Mikelmerck was created in the image of heaven and anyone who doesn't believe it can lump it.  Cooshboth is a latecomer however, and in the manner of latercomers, has simply appropriated what was already believed.

In reality, the Cooshboth answer is both the truth and not true enough.  Mikelmerck is the cauldron of the Older.  Here is where they made their first steps on the world and it contains the best and worst of their creation.  Here they marched on the land and made creatures.  Here they rest, waiting for the day when their creatures end their fumbling lives and they can start again.

The Older have no understanding of good and evil.  They simply are.  In mortal terms, the best you can say is that they have a sense of balance.  For now they rest, stirring only occasionally.  Such stirring is not a minor thing and their dreaming thoughts and shifts have profound effects on the landscape and the people. 

Straddling the mortal and fey worlds, the borders are thin.  Where the Olders sleep, the fey slip through.  Ever curious, they find Mikelmerck alluring.  It leads them to fresh places, new things.  Once, this was fey country, but they were driven back by the arrival of humans.

Stumbling into Mikelmerck, humans did what everyone who visits it has done.  They try to take it.  The history of Mikelmerck is a history of invasions.  None has succeeded.  The land lets them in and tames them, making each new arrival a part of itself.

Mikelmerck - Boothler Samael

Boothler Samael was a most unusual man.  Well known as Mikelmerck's foremost magician, he was also a noted entertainer.  Indeed performance was his first trade.  As a young man, he was called to duty in the court masques of the Sarathame kings and had a successful career as a noted dancer and orator.  His light comic touch was much admired and he was a favourite both on and off the stage.

Advancing rapidly in favour, he passed into the inner circle of the kings and thence to some of their closest secrets.  Records of this period are sparse and Samael himself revealed nothing of note in his autobiography.  What is certain is that he left the court and with the blessing of Rickart III, proposed and built a circuit of theatres around Mikelmerck.  All were on noted leyline points.  He and his troupe of actor-mages walked the circuit time and again bringing protection and amusement in equal measure.  Now, the only surviving venue is in Strangmont and it is here that Boothler Samael's ghost resides.

Like many of the great Mikelmerckian dead, his work continues after death and is likely to do so for some time.  He had no successor.  Subsequent Sarathames moved away from theatre and its protective magic and many of his secrets are lost.  Boothler Samael talents have not been forgotten, but his legacy at present is greatly diminished.  There are still actors, to be sure, but they perform for their own amusement.  The deeper meaning of their activities eludes them.  Even so, they are, unwittingly, maintaining his tradition and Samael's ghost has not given up hope that his protective magic may find a successor.

He sits in the gallery of the Strangmont theatre, kicking the boards at the rare good performance.  To be "kicked by Samael" is therefore a great compliment.  The old door keeper, Ym Rowsel knows the ghost well.  His eyes are ever on the alert for signs of true talent.  Boothler Samael is still waiting patiently to teach his skills and Ym's task is to find a suitable protege.

Mikelmerck - the Owd Man

Lead isn't what it was.  A thousand years of battling Mikelmerck are drawing to a close as the Owd Man takes over.  Back when the Cristarubrae started to settle and push aside the indigenous tribes, they delved deep into the dale.  Ever an efficient people, they ignored the old stories and were proved right for many years.  The emerging lead was of dramatically high quality, much exported and a source of riches to the Duchy.

The Owd Man took his time to respond to the rape of his mountains.  His breath alone took many.  Whole shafts could be closed down when the Owd Man's breath swept through the defenceless.  Birds and animals are quicker to sense his presence and many a miner blessed the day he took a sparrow into the shafts with him. 

Worse followed.  The precious lead seemed to withdraw, pulled further in and further away.  Dangerous enough to follow then, but made the worse by the Owd Man's voice.  Following his deceptive sound is nearly always fatal.  Some also say that if the brave follow, they will be taken to richer seams.  Some even claim to have found such seams, but it is hard to believe.  Even if they come back they are greatly changed.  Strangely distant from their loved ones, they seek only to return to the mines and the voice that lures them ever onwards.

There is still a small industry, but it falls to the truly desperate with no other recourse.  The Owd Man is regarded as one of the Older.  Little can be done to placate him as he wishes only to be left alone.  The need for survival may not let that happen, and the few who still work the mines say his voice is getting stronger.

Mikelmerck - the Roosh, the Washerwoman and the Duck Race

The Roosh is a dangerous river.  Never wide, it is nevertheless full of strong currents ready to trap the unwary.  Each year, visitors underestimate its power.  Running the whole length of Mikelmerck, the source lies high and tumbles relentlessly through the dale forming small waterfalls as it goes.  Notorious as one of the fastest rivers in Albion, it has been known to break its banks and flood, rendering the little arable land useless.

Jenny Greenteeth abandoned it long ago - Mikelmerckian children do not wander near its banks for her to entrap and she has been swept downstream herself too often.  Not so the Washerwoman.  She is seldom seen, but ever-present.  None bar a few of the powerful even know her name, but all fear her.  To see the Washerwoman is to see death.

When the river changes colour, the Washerwoman is at work.  She brings the floods and stirs the currents as she pummels the cloth of men's lives.  The Roosh is entirely her creature and she commands it.  For the many villages that run alongside the river, she is a being to be propitiated.

Customs and Places notes that in Strangmont they drop offerings from the Green Bridge every spring.  These are wooden waterfowl, lovingly made over the winter.  The wooden creatures are followed down the banks by the people as they race towards the finishing point.  The maker of the winning duck has the right to climb the Strangmont waterfall at midsummer and bath in the Roosh without harm.  Wainwright adds that this privilege is not often taken.  The number of surviving waterfowl is said to portend the likelyhood of flooding for the coming year, but Wainwright concludes that this is an unreliable method of prediction.

Mikelmerck - the Older

Before the fey and long before people, were the Older.  Nothing about them is truly known, but they have never left Mikelmerck.  When the weather changes between dales or the land rolls strangely, the Older are restless.  The Mikelmerckians barely think of them as beings, if they think of them at all.  The Older are regarded as the land itself.  "She's in reet bad frame," they may say of a hill producing an unexpected rockfall.

Scrivener Wainwright notes in Customs and Places that the Older are not worshipped exactly, but are propitiated by the love of the Mikelmerckians for their land.  As so often with Wainwright, this is pure speculation, but the point is well made.  Mikelmerckians as a whole are both possessive and defensive about their Duchy.  Woe betide anyone not born there who speaks slightingly of it. 

Mikelmerck - the Child's Path

Strangmont Castle is built on limestone.  Caves honeycomb the rocks beneath it and it is said that there are secret tunnels leading from the Castle to other places.

One such tunnel has been discovered, but with tragic consequences.  Some years ago, while digging the foundations of a new treasure house, soldiers uncovered a narrow passage running under the castle.  Unable to fit into this tunnel, they found a bold child and asked him to go down in their stead.  They planned to track his passage by his singing and at first all went well.  The trail lead them beyond the walls and along the banks of the Roosh, but at the boundary of Strangmont, the singing stopped.

No more was heard.  The bold child was never seen again.  Nowadays, the Child's Path is marked by a stone at the point he was last heard.  Every year, the townsfolk follow that ill-omened path asking the bold child for forgiveness.  According to Scrivener Wainwright, the ghostly voice of the  bold child can still be heard sometimes, singing and laughing below ground.  It is said that such sounds presage danger to Strangmont.

Mikelmerck - the Fend Goat

High on crags he tore his rags

Down by thorn he blew his horn

Hid in lee, brak' his knee

Over beck he brak' his neck

Under Fend we'll mak' his end

Each year as the Progress comes to its end, the villagers of Fend enact a curious ritual.  A visitor describes it like this.

"We arrived a week before the festival and the whole village was engrossed in the construction of an effigy.  Everyone contributed, whether clothing or stuffing, but only the smith makes the mask.  They call it the Goat and set it on display at the edge of the village facing out towards the moors.  Everyone who arrives at this time is expected to pay their respects - and maybe even leave a small gift.

After the three days of feasting and honour, the Goat is carried around the village and treated most regally.  At the smithy however, the Goat is adorned with his new mask and the villagers now start to drag him around their boundaries.  At each stopping point, the village gathers and chants a verse  before carrying the Goat to a bonfire and burning him.

I asked what was the origin of this tale and was told that it was very ancient and believed to have once been part of the king-making of Mikelmerck.  If this is the case, I am glad I did not live in such times!"

(from "Mikelmerck's Customs and Places" by Scrivener Wainwright)


Mr Wainwright's description is accurate.  He may have romanticised the mythic elements and it the opinion of most that the Goat represents nothing more than an opportunistic thief who met his end at the hands of the villagers of Fend.

Mikelmerck - St Mikela, the Voice of the Head

Former home of St Mikela, the Voice of the Head.  Now a shrine.

The Legend of St Mikela has long been a popular subject for artists in Mikelmerck, but the best known example remains the Oltsow Tapestry.  Here all the major events of the saint's life are depicted in vibrant colour and provides the best introduction to this important figure.

St Mikela's birth was marked by the blossoming of the white pear tree outside Cooshboth's major temple in Jervich.  Her wealthy parents had quite other plans for their beautiful daughter, but Cooshboth's flame burned brightly in Mikela from the outset.  Agreeing at last to wed, she grew a beard on her wedding night and she and her nonplussed groom knelt in prayer to know the meaning of such a sign.

The following morning, she parted with her husband and retired to the cave that was to be her home for the next 60 years.  Here she rapidly acquired a reputation for wisdom.  Although much of her time was spent in contemplation, she readily accepted visitors and answered all questions with unfailing courtesy.  She was widely reputed to speak with the voice of Cooshboth himself - indeed, some said that he even dwelt at times within the cave.  Certainly her advice was heeded and few events of import took place without first consulting Mikela.

Mikela's advice of this period was collected by her devoted acolyte, the Blessed Aldern the Repeater and is noticeably practical in tone.   The Booke of St Mikela remains a standard text found in most Mikelmerckian homes and ranges over topics concerning the proper times for planting and husbandry as well as behaviour and the worship of Cooshboth.

Thirty years after she entered it, the saint's cave was seen to glow with a powerful divine light and Mikela herself was not seen for many weeks.  Fearing that she was dead, the people, lead by Aldern, closed off the cave mouth and built a small shrine in honour of her memory.  It was at this shrine that Mikela reappeared clad in sheep fleece and utterly silent.  It seemed that the Voice of the Head had been given a new role.

For the remainder of her life, she remained within the cave, speaking but rarely.  When she did so, the words made little sense, concerning events yet to come.  Nonetheless, she continued to welcome and bless all comers.  Her kindness extended to everyone.  Rich, poor, child or elder - any might make the pilgrimage to visit the saint.  After her death, her  incorrupt body remained in the cave.  Miracles were soon reported and the shrine remained a popular pilgrimage site.  Even after her death, Mikela continued to prophesie.  She chose her vessels from among the visitors  and they spoke in her voice.

In the view of many, the greatest sin committed by the Sarathame kings was the removal of St Mikela's body from her cave.  Taking her to their own crypt, she was reburied with great honour, but she seemed to disapprove.  From that time the saint has remained silent and the miracles have ceased.

Mikelmerck - sheep and shapechangers

Yan, Tan, Tether, Mether, Pip, 

Azer, Sezar, Akker, Conter, Dick,

Yanadick, Tanadick, Tetherdick, Metherdick, Bumfit,

Yanabum, Tanabum, Tetherabum, Metherabum, Jigget

Exceptionally hardy, wily and stubborn, Mikelmerck sheep closely resemble the people who bred them.  In the short summer months, they roam high above in the Duchy, only returning to the lower slopes when the weather turns.  This has nothing to do with what the sheep can survive, and everything to do with the convenience of the shepherds.

Each season, the shepherds count them out and count them in.  A loss or two is to be expected, but more worrying is an increase.  It is not unknown for outsiders to hitch a ride back to inhabited Mikelmerck as a sheep.  Farmers delighted at the happy increase in their flocks learn to rue these gifts when they turn out to be shapechanged fey.

Once invited in, whether by choice or accident, the fey have a foothold.

Mikelmerck - the fey and the Sarathames

Fabian did a lovely piece on the Nine Men of Muriz which obviously falls into the same territory as the Drowned Seven (below).  I meant to link to it yesterday.

In the way of Mikelmerck, old stories often turn out to be the true ones.  The Sarathame kings long had links with Mikelmerck.  They had little to call their own - only vaulting ambition, a love of music and a way with words and small magic.  As their power grew, so did their need for knowledge.  Unusually among powerful families they respected learning, seeing it as a way forward rather than a threat.  In Mikelmerck they found a most uncommon source of power and took advantage of it.

They realised early that the boundaries in Mikelmerck were fragile and started to cultivate the fey.  Far from fearing them, they yearned for fey knowledge and in exchange offered a permanent border on their lands.  It is said that Goffroi, the first Sarathame king wrote a song of calling inviting the fey into this world and sharing its joys with them.  Parts of it are inscribed in their burial chapel, but the whole song is known only to the king and his heir.

It is certainly true that under the Sarathames, architecture has taken a very different turn, seeming to ignore the rules of logic and physics to build towering palaces and churches.  Music and culture are enduring preoccupations of the family.  Their dynasty has lasted for nearly 700 years, but in that time, their eccentricites have become more extreme.  They keep their secrets well, but in the end their own need to keep them may bring about their downfall.  Increasingly paranoid and mistrustful they turn inward and rot like overripe fruit.  Even so, they maintain their links with Mikelmerck.  Their wives nearly all come from the Duchy and their castles still stud the landscape.

Each year the Progress spends a month walking the boundaries.  At this time, anyone may approach the king and beg a favour.  The king is bound to listen and answer, but it is a risky thing to do.  The favour may well be granted, but it will come at a price.  Sometimes that price is a small thing - a clean fleece or a fresh baked cake placed at a certain spot, a new chant or a rock moved from one place to another.  Sometimes though the price is higher and stranger.  It depends on the mood of the king and the need of the boundary at the time.

Mikelmerck - The Drowned Seven

The lake of the Drowned Seven is a place of ill renown.  By day, it is true, some fishermen scoff at the old stories and pull in a good catch, but as night falls, they leave with relief.  Dawn and dusk are the most dangerous times, say the villagers.  The truly unlucky may hear the bells below the water and those that do are never quite the same.

The bells ring to waken the Drowned Seven.  As to whether their wakening is a good thing or a bad thing - much depends on who you speak to.  The priests of Cooshboth say that the Seven are angels, locked away until Mikelmerck is worthy to receive them.  Others are less optimistic. 

Regardless of who or what they are, the Drowned Seven have waited many, many centuries for their awakening.  Deep in their lake, they sometimes seem to stir a little, sending curious fish into the nets of the fisherfolk brave enough to cast there.  Sometimes too, pieces of stonework and even ancient gold have been cast up. 

Around the edges of the lake are rocks of strange sizes and shape.  According to the old tale, these are the remains of people who stayed to listen to the bells.  What is certain is that their number grows year on year.  One or two at a time, nothing to be overly worried about.

Mikelmerck and the guarding dead

One of the peculiarities of Mikelmerck is the belief that the dead earn their keep.  They are fully occupied in patrolling the thin boundaries and remain active.  Every family keeps some token of their ancestors in the house and on Cooshboth's Eve when the days grow darker, they bring them out to remind them of their duties.  The following day, All Heads, a few especially aged or honoured tokens are rewarded with retirement from their toil and are given a final send off with special cakes and good ale.

The hardheaded Mikelmerckens are slightly wary of continuing to work in their well-earned afterlife.  Because of this, it is not unknown for bargains to be struck before death for the length of time they will be expected to guard the boundaries.  Such bargains normally involve the transfer of property or sheep to compensate the living for the future loss of protection.  One of the prime duties of the traveling clergy is to adjudicate an appropriate length of service.  10 years is the norm, but in the case of particularly strong willed or powerful people, the family may ask for a longer protection.  In this case the negotiations can become protracted and messy, leading to unseemly squabbles.

Most of the truly powerful accept that they will spend a long period guarding the bounds of Mikelmerck.  Boothler Samael has not yet been granted respite after 300 years.  Nor is it likely he will be until another mage of similar strength appears.