Aves Sturgis
Aves saw the man coming a mile away. He wore a heavy coat and trudged with purpose across the grasslands, his hood pulled low against the driving rain. Aves tossed another log onto the fire and waited beneath the shelter he had erected. He had dreamt about this meeting almost a year ago to this very day.
When the man finally arrived, Aves placed his long pipe on the ground. “Please, join me by the fire. The weather is cold, and you're wet.”
The man shook off his thick coat of furs and sat with a grimace. “Damn these aching bones. The cold I can live with, but I ain't used to all this rain.”
“Nature must water her garden now and again, or where would we be?” Aves clicked his beak. “Share some of my brew. It will help chase the cold away.”
“My thanks.” The man took the steaming mug and drank deeply.
“Do you know why you're here, Runemancer Atuat?” Aves watched him drink.
Atuat shot him a look. “How do you know my name?”
“How did you find the warmth of my fire?” Aves asked.
Atuat wiped the brew from his beard and shrugged. “I dunno. I've been having this dream. It's always the same. Only had it a handful of times at first, but recently, it's been almost every night. I asked my god, but he's far from here, on another world, and doesn't answer. I'm hoping you might tell me.”
Aves ruffled his feathers, his necklace of teeth rattling. “You're here to be healed.”
“There's not a thing wrong with me apart from age creeping in. You got something that can fix that?”
Aves leaned forward, eyes widening. “Not your body, your spirit. You are in great pain, Atuat the Tempest.”
Atuat's annoyance crackled and barked like the fire. ”You brought me all this way to tell me that? My spirit is just fine, old bird. No wonder my god has abandoned me. There's nothing but madness and death in this world of yours.”
With a low hoot, Aves picked up his pipe and handed it to Atuat. “Smoke first, then we shall talk more.”
Atuat hesitated before taking the pipe. He carefully examined the painted wood for a moment, shrugged and inhaled. Wisps of smoke curled about his head before they were coaxed away by the breeze and lost within the rain. He looked back the way he had come, and when he turned to Aves again, his eyes glistened with tears.
“Your spirit is hurting, runemancer,” Aves said, “but fear not. I can heal it. Smoke some more, then we will speak with the ghost of your past and ease its pain.” Aves Sturgis is the high mystic of the Long Wing, a parliament of horned owlkin that reside in Freywood in the Land of Prosperity's Grand Praetorian Plain. He is the seventy-ninth generational shaman and derives his shamanic powers from his ancestors, his extensive training and education, dreamwalking, and the wisdom and omens of nature itself. On occasion and during ceremonies, he wears the teeth of the great lichen beast, Vutagar, that he pulled from the creature's maw in his younger years as part of his journey to awakening. Now, eighty years on, Aves still visits Vutagar in the forest, where they commune with nature's spirits together.
Even though much of his life has been spent in or near the forests and in communion with Chuthar, God of Nature and the Fey, Aves has remained primarily focused on Khymia, Goddess of Life and the Upper Planes. He believes that the nature-based path of revelation cannot be walked without the guidance of Khymia.
As leader of the Long Wing, Aves is highly respected by both the owlkin and their allies for his service as an advisor, healer, and diviner. The runes affixed to his belt were gifted by other leaders he has helped over his lifetime. Not only are they symbols of respect and appreciation, but each tells the story of Aves's journey to enlightenment through his good deeds to others.