vaelora/Setting/Organizations/Shayakar/The Oathknights of Annwyn.md

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aliases: ["Oathknight", "Oathknights"]
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>[!quote|mark author] Motto of the Oathknights
> One crown, one land, one table - and none above the oath.
They are not born to titles, nor appointed by kings. No banner claims them. No lineage binds them. Each is chosen by the land itself-marked by a power older than thrones, called forth by the **Green Man**, the enigmatic spirit at the heart of Annwyn's wild soul.

To become one is to cross a boundary: not merely from Tul to knight, but from mortal into myth. The Oathknights are **spirit-bound wayfarers**, touched by sacred oaths and shaped by geasa-boons that bind, curses that empower. They are neither a brotherhood nor an order. Each walks alone.

They **kneel to no court, no creed, no army**. Only when the **Crown of Annwyn** is borne by one whom the Green Man has anointed do they answer a higher call. Then, and only then, do they gather in the shadows of the elder trees and take their place at the **Green Table**. Then, and only then, do they kneel.

They are not commanded, but called.  
Not sworn, but **oathbound**.  
Not knights in the eyes of men-but in the eyes of the land itself.

They are the Green Man's challenge made flesh.  
They are the land's memory, its wound, its warning.  
They are a conscience with a blade.

And when the land whispers, they are the ones who listen.

## Origins and Calling
Oathknights are a rare form of **Shayakar** - warriors bound to spirits through sacred **geasa**, oaths that grant power at a cost. But unlike others of their kind, who serve specific spirits or walk known paths, the Oathknights are shaped by a single, defining ordeal: a trial before the **Green Man**.

Neither god nor beast, the Green Man is the land made will - a spirit as old as Annwyn itself. To seek him is to walk into the wild without guide or witness. No one is invited. No one returns unchanged.

The journey is not a rite, but an ordeal. The would-be Oathknight must cast off the trappings of civilization and **enter the deepwoods alone**, where the veil thins and spirits stir. Some are tested by hunger, others by memory, vision, or pain. The Green Man sets the trial, but never speaks. The land itself watches - and judges.

If found worthy, the aspirant is granted the **First Geas**: a sacred bond that reshapes body, mind, and soul. From that moment, they are no longer merely Tul. They are **Oathbound** - touched by myth, claimed by the wild.

The geas is no leash. The Green Man does not command.  
The Oathknight walks free - but never again walks alone.

## The Nature of the Geasa
To be an Oathknight is to bear **geasa** - sacred oaths etched not in ink or blood, but in the soul itself. Each geas is a **living law**, a pact struck not with monarchs or mortals, but with the spirits of Annwyn: the wind-haunters, root-dwellers, storm-burners, and rain-whisperers. They are not familiars, nor allies. They are **wild and old**, and they do not speak in words.

When an Oathknight accepts a geas, they **bind a spirit** to their being. In that moment, the spirit enters them like flame enters wick. It guides them silently, it grants them strength - and in return, it imposes a **price**.

Every geas is twofold:

- A **boon** - granting mystic power, unnatural resilience, or insight beyond mortal ken.
- A **burden** - a taboo, a transformation, a curse that must never be broken.

_Examples of Geasa:_

|**Boon**|**Burden**|
|---|---|
|Heals from any wound when touching stone|Must never sleep beneath a roof|
|Walks unseen through fog and falling rain|Must answer any question asked thrice|
|Immune to illusion and lies|May only speak in whispers|
|Wields a blade that never dulls|Must never touch gold, silver, or coin|

>[!aside|show-title right] Brynwig the Five-Bound
>No figure among the Oathknights is spoken of with more awe - or more caution - than **Brynwig the Five-Bound**.
>
>He was a warrior, a wanderer, a whisper in the thorn-brush. His feet withered crops. His eyes wept brine. He could see the truth in any lie, feel the weight of every hidden guilt - and in his final years, he could no longer dream.
>
>He bore five [[Spirits]] within him. Five geasa, each etched into his marrow. He walked with kings and warned queens, but in the end, he died alone in a cave no map recalls.
>
>No knight has ever carried more.
>
>Some say there is a **limit** - that the soul cannot bear more than five bound spirits without shattering. Others believe the **Green Man forbids it**. And a few whisper that Brynwig sought a sixth geas, and that something **else** answered the call.
>
>Whatever the truth, none have dared follow him.

With each geas, the Oathknight becomes more deeply **bound to the land**, more tightly wound into its spirit-matter. And with each bond, they become less like the people they once were. Some grow silent and strange, moss blooming in their footprints. Others forget their names, speaking only to birds or to rivers. A few are no longer recognizably Tul - not quite beast, not quite ghost, not quite man.

Most Oathknights bear **one or two geasa**. A rare few hold **three**, and are remembered in tale and song. Four is nearly unheard of. Five is a legend.

To break a geas is to break the self. Some Oathknights who fail are stripped of their power. Others twist, becoming **cursed things** - half-shadow, half-echo, feared even by their own kin. Their stories are told not as warnings, but as **reminders**: of the cost of the path, and the peril of forgetting one's bounds.

For every gift the land gives, it remembers what was taken in return.

## Allegiance to the Crown
Though each Oathknight walks a solitary path, bound more to storm and stone than to city or crown, they are not wholly unmoored. Their service lies not with mortal politics, but with **[[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]] itself**, and with the **Crown as sanctified by the land**.

When a new **Queen of [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]]** is crowned, it is not enough for lords and banners to bend. Her rule must be **acknowledged by the Green Man**, the timeless spirit who sleeps beneath root and hill. When his blessing is given, a deep and ancient chord is struck within the Oathknights.

Wherever they are - in cave, ruin, or sacred grove - they feel the call, and they come.

### The Green Table
The **Green Table** is more than a meeting place - it is a **covenant**, a living place of stone and root where land and rule intertwine. Hidden deep within [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]]'s oldest forest, it is **unreachable by map or road**, found only when the land wills it.

Here, and only here, the **rightful ruler of [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]]**, blessed by the Green Man, may **call upon the Oathknights** for their **council and service**.

At the Green Table, the Oathknights:

- **Swear fealty** - not to a person, but to the Crown as recognized by the land
- **Speak for the land itself**, interpreting dreams, omens, and the murmurs of spirits
- **Debate matters of (spiritual) justice**, from ancient curses to oathbinding disputes
- **Advise the Queen**, offering insight untouched by courtly games or mortal ambition
- **Take action when needed**, rising to defend the deep harmony of [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]]

Only the **rightful, land-sanctified Queen** may summon them to this place. Should her crown be broken, or the Green Man's blessing withdrawn, the Table falls silent. The Oathknights disperse - returning to the wild places until [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]] chooses anew.

## Appearance and Symbols
No two Oathknights look alike, yet all bear the unmistakable mark of the land's deep magic. Each carries the imprint of their trials, their geasa, and the spirits bound to them - but certain signs echo across their number:

- **Antlered Helms** - ancient in shape, they evoke the Green Man's first blessing and serve as a crown of wild dominion
- **Cloaks of moss, bark, or living thread** - not woven, but grown, shaped by oath and spirit-bond
- **Weapons of rootsteel, greenflame, or bone** - forged through sacred pacts or gifted by the land itself
- **Living Tattoos and Spirit-Scars** - marks that shift with the seasons, glow with unseen light, or ripple with unseen wind

Their presence is undeniable. Even those untouched by magic feel it - a hush in the air, a sudden chill, the stillness that falls before a storm. To look upon an Oathknight is to feel the weight of ancient promises.

## Folklore and Fear
Across [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]], the Oathknights walk a narrow line between reverence and dread. To most, they are not people - they are stories.

In **rural villages**, their names are spoken in hushed voices by hearthlight. Children are warned not to lie near the woods, lest an Oathknight appear to braid nettles into their tongues. Offerings of bread, milk, or green herbs are left at forest edges-not out of worship, but respect. The old say they walk with the Green Man's shadow and that to see one is a sign: of change, of reckoning, or of deep [[Magic]] moving.

In the **high courts of noble houses**, they are feared in a different way. Lords whisper of Oathknights who pass through locked gates without leave, who cannot be bribed, blackmailed, or reasoned with. Some view them as threats to sovereign power - agents of a deeper law that bows to no crown save the one the land itself anoints. Spies sent to watch them often return quiet and strange - or not at all.

Among the **common folk**, tales vary. Fishermen along the Mistpatch coast claim the Oathknights ride waves of fog. Miners in the slate hills say they once saw one kneel and whisper to the stones - and that afterward, the earth ceased its tremors for seven years. Wanderers speak of being guided by a cloaked figure through snow or storm, vanishing the moment safety was found.

Even among **Eldsingers**, the Oathknights are treated with caution. They are not part of any circle, follow no temple's rites. Yet the spirits listen to them. Some say they are half-possessed; others, that they are chosen before birth, woven into fate by forces older than language.

## Living Legends: Renowned Oathknights
The Oathknights do not ride in companies nor gather in courts, yet across [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]], their names carry a weight greater than most kings. Their presence is rare - sometimes a whisper on a forest road, other times a blade unsheathed beneath the boughs - but always memorable. Each is shaped by the sacred geasa they carry: oaths that grant power, but warp the life around them.

Each of these Oathknights bears the scars and strength of their geasa. Each walks a path none else could. And though the songs may call them protectors, shadows, or madfolk, all are bound by one truth: they have _chosen_ to bear the burdens that no others dare.

### Ser Caelwyn of the Golden Barrow
If ever there was one to embody the ancient virtues of knighthood - valor, wisdom, mercy - it is Ser Caelwyn. Tall as a sapling elm and broad-shouldered, he wears a helm crowned in golden antlers, said to be grown from the blessing of the Green Man himself. His cloak is threaded with living leaves that do not wither, and his voice carries the stillness of sunrise.

Legends speak of him standing alone at a broken pass, turning aside an entire raiding host with only his blade and his gaze. _Oathbloom_, his sword, burns with green fire when brought near falsehood - for Caelwyn is bound to truth itself. No lie may pass unchallenged in his presence. Yet for all his strength, there are limits: he may never draw his sword in anger, only in defense or necessity. On more than one occasion, he has knelt to allow an enemy the first blow - trusting in fate and the land to guide him true.

By day, sunlight seals his wounds faster than any poultice. But when darkness falls, he may not speak at all. Those who travel with him speak of silent gestures and watchful eyes - and the pain that sometimes twists his features when a night cry goes unanswered. Still, none doubt his loyalty. He is the Queen's chosen voice among the Oathknights, and walks beside her when signs are read and sacred decisions weighed.

### Muryel of the Hollow Glen
If Ser Caelwyn is the stag beneath the sun, then Muryel is the shadow beneath the roots. Small and weathered, more moss than Tul, she moves without sound and leaves no mark in snow or soil. Her cloak appears woven from lichen and fog. In the places where the Veil thins, where children vanish or whispers hang in the air like mist, Muryel walks.

She was once a midwife, they say, before her first geas - a binding oath sworn to save a child cursed in the womb. Since then, she has been something other. Her breath carries healing, able to draw out poisons and mend corrupted flesh, but she may never again birth life of her own. Her body will not bear seed or sustain child, and it is said she weeps when holding infants, though none see her tears.

She does not speak often, for another of her geasa forbids her from uttering a word in places where trees grow. Only on stone or bare earth may she use her voice. And so she hums - a quiet, eerie tune like wind through bone - and the spirits understand.

It is whispered that she sleeps beneath the roots of an old ash tree, cradled by the land, her skin grown bark-thick and warm with soil. And when travelers find their way [[Home]] from cursed woods, whole and untouched, they sometimes carry with them a single thorn - warm to the touch, and pulsing faintly with green light.

### Old Tamsin "the Wrongwise"
Unlike her solemn kin, Tamsin is… surprising. Broad-hipped, grey-haired, and often found grumbling at ducks beside half-dry ponds, she looks nothing like a figure of myth. She carries a staff carved from storm-felled elm and wears patchwork shawls with bones sewn into the fringe. Children call her “Croneknight,” and she cackles at the name.

Yet when she walks, the wind shifts. The local spirits hush.

Tamsin took her first geas by accident - or so she claims - after tricking a bog spirit into teaching her the secret names of frogs. Since then, she's taken others: she can speak to birds, and they speak back (though not always politely). Rain will never fall upon her, even in a storm. But in return, she may never eat meat, nor lie to a child, nor cross running water on a bridge. She's often seen building strange rafts or persuading travelers to carry her across streams, much to their confusion.

Despite her oddities, Tamsin is among the most respected of the Green Table's circle. Her insights are sharp as any blade, and spirits speak freely in her presence. In recent years, rumors swirl that even the Queen sometimes seeks her counsel alone - far from court or grove - to ask questions no others may hear.

She's the kind of knight that tavern-goers laugh about - until she stops laughing with them, and the fire flickers cold.

### Thareon Black-Veil
And then there is Thareon - a name spoken with caution, even among other Oathknights.

Little is known of his past. His armor is scorched and his helm veiled, and when he speaks, his voice sounds like wind through hollowed bone. He is never seen by day. They say the Veil clings to him - that spirits follow in his wake not as guides, but as prisoners.

Thareon bears four geasa. One renders him immune to spirit possession, but he may never show his face to mortal eyes. Another lets him walk unseen through shadow and fog - but he may not rest under open sky. A third grants him the power to command restless dead, yet he must carry their memories as his own. The fourth is unknown, and feared.

Though his methods are dark, his cause is not. He hunts those who break the ancient pacts, who spill sacred blood or twist spirits for gain. When he comes, the guilty are never seen again.

Many fear he walks too close to the edge - that he has become more shade than man. But none deny his usefulness, or his devotion. Even the Queen, it is said, has allowed his silence - so long as his blade stays turned to [[Setting/Realms/Mentralin/Annwyn/Annwyn]]'s enemies.