Single hawk feather

Prize item for Hunt for History.

a single hawk feather

Show:
A single flight feather from a hawk has been transformed into a simple decoration for the hair. The calamus has been wrapped in braided leather that is loose at the ends so that it may be woven into the hair or affixed to a headband. Each strip of leather is strung with an abstractly patterned assortment of russet, red, and white beads that match the overall coloring of the feather's vane. Wear and use has separated some of the barbs, but none are missing.

Loresong:
As you begin your song, the hawk feather turns slightly in your hand. The world around you fades, and a series of images pass before your eyes.

A human man sits at the edge of a trail in the forest. His cloak is torn at the shoulder, and a nasty cut bleeds freely. He tears some broadcloth from his satchel, desperately trying to staunch the wound. An elven passerby notes his predicament and stops to lend some aid. The man bears a grateful expression as the elf binds his wound with a clean, white bandage and offers the man a sip from a silver flask.

A human and elf meet at a kitchen table over cups of tea, discussing the finer points of a trade. Reaching an agreement, the human counts out some silvers onto the table. His expression announces that he is coming up short on the previously determined amount, but the elf smiles, places his hand on the silvers, and says very clearly, "That is exactly the right amount." The man meets his gaze with a look of relief and gratitude.

Several children, some human and others elven, play in the forest. Their laughter rings through the trees, as they play a tumultuous game of hide and seek.

As you continue your song, the hawk feather turns slightly in your hand. The world around you fades and is replaced by a different scene.

You find yourself inside a pub, observing a group of men dressed in the garb of several professions -- merchanting, lumbering, and trapping. They are having an intense discussion over something, many motioning this way and that with their tankards. Most of the gestures are in a particular direction and you follow two men as they leave the pub, curious to see the source of their argument. On the pub's steps, you look in the direction the men were gesturing and see an enormous expanse of forest. You turn to get your bearings and see that you are surrounded by forest on all sides. One of the men says to the other, "The Wyrdeep holds dangers, aye, but none as dangerous as us." The other man glowers silently as he makes his way down the steps.

You have returned to the pub where the discussion has escalated to an argument. Groups of men knot on either side of the barroom and the bartender is between the two with his arms raised, speaking in firm tones in an attempt to bring the men to their senses. The opposing factions raise their fists and holler across the empty space, but neither seems ready to meet the other in physical violence. Finally, the argument settles down and the bartender returns to his familiar place behind the bar.

A group of human men enter the thickly wooded Wyrdeep Forest, torches ablaze but carried carefully to avoid lighting the foliage. A hundred yards in, they meet with a group of elves who seem to fade into view from the surrounding undergrowth. The two parties greet each other amicably and proceed to have a quiet discussion, the men displaying the hawk feathers worn in their hair. After listening patiently, the elves bow slightly, but shake their heads -- they wish nothing to do with human politics, even if it revolves around them. The human men nod in return, accepting the elves' disinclination without argument.

A group of men, each wearing a white leather bracelet, square off with a cluster of elves who staff a series of stalls in one corner of a marketplace. The humans gesture angrily, pointing at the marketplace's exit, but the elves stand firm. A crowd gathers around the arguing parties and a few men step forward in preparation to assist the elves, each wearing a single hawk feather in their hair. The protesting humans continue to argue and point at the elves, but gradually relent and return to their varied businesses in the area.

Although the hawk feather turns slightly in your hand, the world remains as it was.

Reference

Unofficial documentation located here: http://members.aol.com/gs3augie/feather.html