By Alex Nicholson

Usually to get into the Museum of Cardigan you have to either be a card carrying citizen of the town, wait a year and a day for vetting, or be a significant donor to the museum. Thankfully for Del and Aila, Kayle has his own rules.

To list all the treasure in this museum found in the city of wonder that is cardigan would take a lifetime’s work, which many citizens donate their time to attempt to do, often joining the museum as living exhibits as they work through there twilight years towards their goal, not that they show the signs of ageing anyway.

The trip to Erin and the Fianna halls though awe inspiring was also an opportunity that could not be missed, while others had marvelled at the stories and the history, Del and Kayle had been measuring, sketching and discovering parts of the building to recreate such a place in Cardigan perhaps across from Greegs or under one the indoor bridges perhaps. 

Today they would be delivering the pieces of the structure that had fallen off that they had collected to preserve for future generations to enjoy to the museum’s chief archaeologist Cymrjana Jones, no relation to the other Jones in Cymrja.

It also let them show Aila most of the known world right here in Cymrja, the collections in here could advance other nations hundreds of years it was suspected, but if they aren’t willing to wait the year and a day to visit that’s their own loss. Even with the QuaggSpoons short and two mains for 1 silver visitors deal. 

They through the entrance hall walking past the great stuffed wolf of Norsca that had the plaque “Son of Fenris” though it just looked like a small imitation of the Tuatha Wolf Del explained to Aila as they walked under its shadow. How big is Wolf? Salmon, Raven and Adder had not been much taller than herself, Aila wondered as they passed into the “Allied Nations” part of the museum. 

The warband had travelled the known world a dozen times over, it was only natural trinkets would be sent back home to study and display. Most of which would not be missed by its previous owners. First was the closest nation to Cymrja, Albion, though they could be displaying triumphs of cattle raids over the borders or shared shields and sigils of Allied knights there was a greater treasure at the heart of this exhibit. 

The Lions of Albion so similar to the Fir Cruthen if they were to look back or down once in a while. When the first king had drawn Excalibur from its stone, they had not seen the worth of the stone that held the sword for an age, waiting until the right person arrived to release its treasure onto them, only the sword itself. The folks of the Fir Cruthen seeing the sister stone of the Laefel, the king stone, took this back to Cardigan for safekeeping should it be needed again. 

When Excalibur returned to the stone the caretakers were shocked, knowing the Lions needed it to find a new monarch they beseeched Gofannon to forge a replica to keep for prosperity and send the real one back to Albion, which he managed with ease. However with a mix-up the replica was sent instead though it fulfilled the same role due to it being a perfect replica. If the lions were to discover this though there would be chaos, rioting and war. 

“Best we don’t worry about the little things dear cousin” Del reassured her, though Alia taking in what had been for a better word stolen and the potential consequences tried to push worry out of her mind wondering what other “Treasures” lay within these halls. “The real ones a lot heavier than that one Rory uses, but best we don’t ruin it for him, Ha-Ha!” Kayle chimed in, clearly enjoying this walk down memory lane. “This next one always makes me laugh, Drussus loved to show off his snake little did he know we had the original one!”

A lot of reinforced glass was put in front of these exhibits due to the uneasy feelings some brought up. The Teutonia and Viper exhibit was split in half such was their history, there had been discussions on whether having some of these items was safe for Cardigan or what horror could be unleashed if one were to fall into the wrong hands, but it was part of history and needed preserving.

Alia raised a sceptical eyebrow at this comment. As they walked past the legionary armour and colossal tower shields bearing the mark of the Viper, past tapestries of the Cobras, Mambas and Condas whose existence has faded to time, they approached what was called the Vipers Nest part of the Exhibit. 

A great snake easy 15 ft in length was entwined around the great eagle staff of Teutonia. “This is where the name comes from, this great serpent wrapped around the staff of rulership” remarked the plaque, “They can't be named after that, it's too simple?” Alia remarked. “They were called the nomads because they wandered around” Del retorted. 

How this snake had been recovered was a mystery. Cymrjana had returned, staff in hand snake dragging behind it and exclaimed “I hate snakes, I hate them” and taken his 4 week leave of the museum. 

A dark month indeed.

Walking past the Viper part of the exhibit the room seemed to get darker, mood lighting visitors assumed. There were great wards carved into the stone, covered in salt around the displays. One book made of human leather warped into the screaming face of man was bound in silver chains with two large constructs bearing braziers and axes stood either side, unmoving. 

“Don’t look too long on this one”, it was said to be called the Necronomicon. Why in the gods name this was on display was a mystery. “Worry not chums, it'll be burned to a crisp before anyone tries to take it, even then it's not the most dangerous thing in here Ha-Ha!” Kayle’s comment did little to settle the filling dread of his companions as they swiftly moved out of this part of the exhibit, stopping only to observe the scale model of the black forest as a small fire elemental ran between the trees torching them only for new ones to grow in their place. Its plaque simply read “Soon”. 

The next part of the Museum was bright, painfully bright and clean, with just a whiff of perfume. 

Algaia they all muttered.

Though the source of the smell was a mystery as they walked past the casks of the ages and the bottle of Champaign dated 0001 in faded script. How it had survived this long was a feat in itself, though the fact it was displayed in the chest of a golem probably deterred anyone from trying to taste it. “You have a lot of constructs here Kayle, who maintains them?” Alia asked taking in how alien this city was compared to other parts of the Fir Cruthen lands she’d seen. “Why the museum does!” he stated as if that answered any follow up questions, an elbow in her arm suggested it wasn’t worth questioning.

She repaid her cousin in kind.

The golem turned on its axis as Del rightened himself narrowly avoiding knocking over the silver tree of life brooch worn by the Gryphons lord general two decades ago. “Mind your footing cousin”. There were surprisingly few items of the Gryphons compared to what had been collected from the Vipers. The main piece of this display was a crown or torc, hard to tell, woven from the branches of the tree of life itself. It glowed blue for a short moment as Del felt his bruised ribs heal, useful tool he pondered moving into the “Piest De Resistance” or Algaian proper section.

The issue with a lot of the Algaian items recovered is it's hard to tell if they were Fir Cruthen icons that simply fell off a boat and were recovered or lost as we travelled through their lands. “That’s Danu, Cernunnos, Danu, Danu, Gofannon” Del pointed out as they walked past carvings of the Mother, Hunter and Forgeborn. “Del don’t be so close minded, no wait that one's definitely Danu!” Kayle tried to correct but even with his boundless enthusiasm struggled to differentiate the symbolism. 

“That ones definitely the mother” Kayle and Del said at the same time standing before an impeccably carved marble statue, the gold veins almost shaping clothes as they flew across the sculpture. “How can you tell?” Aila enquired

“To nice to be ours”

“It smells fruity!”

“Gold would have been nicked and shaved down”

“I carried it personally as a weight on my morning 10k run!” 

“Plaque says it is”

“Doesn’t have that Cruthen look in its eyes!”

Perhaps it was the strong smells in the air or the nitpicking but Aila pushed her companions on to the next section as they continued their “critique” of Algaian civilisation, customs and religion. At least there was complementary authentic wine at the end of the section. Suddenly the Algaia were alright, maybe the museum owners knew what they were doing after all.

As they entered the next hall it was adorned with shields both cracked and pristine, great horns edged in silver and brass for drinking and blowing and a longship just in the centre of the room, someone had clearly vandalised in Ogham. Its dragon prow covered in green and yellow fabric with the words one dragon sewn in gold thread down it. 

Onlookers could swear a tear formed in Kayle's eye.

There was a lot of construction and reorganisation going on this exhibit; at present the great map showing where the Wolves of Norsca controlled was being “reevaluated”. No questions would be answered on why, only a wink provided. Lorcan was admiring the collection of axes and pelts recovered from the Tonte Forest worn by the locals who inhabited it. 

“Ah Lorcan finally recovering that bit of the well we asked you to recover!” the warleader gave a sly smile and shrugged “don’t know what you mean Warmaster, my kin would never be caught taking such a thing”. 

Again winks and no explanation, Aila wasn’t so keen on this exhibit hall.

More constructs shaped to be a berserker of Norsca circled in a small arena. For a copper you could test your metal against a replica of the great warriors of Norsca. Ronin had been in there for some time it seemed but seemed to show no signs of tiredness, at least the academy was funding Cardigan indirectly. 

As they walked on through, passing the Meads of the Jarls, depictions of Norse gods (Aila quickly stopped Del from giving their cruthen names), past the wolf mantel of one of the first lord wolfs, they passed over to the reconstructed Forge of Norsca that had been destroyed along with Mjolnir when the Norscans had tried to break it. 

Finally there was a single part of Mjolnir that had been recovered, impossible to lift for one not chosen of Thor, so had not been collected immediately or well-guarded as who could really steal this? Thankfully Tarannis God of storms, lightning and thunder’s own chosen had also fit the bill and recovered a few parts for display in this museum.

Though there was a distinct smell of ozone around the broken shards, two had been placed in a glass orb that seemed to have small streaks of lightning bouncing off it, if you placed your hand upon it all the hair would stand up. Apparently, the phenomenon was called “Static Electricity”. Though this sounds very made up and probably a cardiganism, at least it was entertaining for the children.

Del went an uncomfortable shade of white as they passed into the Jhereg part of the exhibit, “We have to secure these items with cold iron nails to keep them safe!” Kayle explained “initially we had these made for a meeting with the fey but apparently a cold iron nail bomb is something called a war crime!” A rare frown crossed Kayle's brow “still nice to know they were not wasted!”

A lot of the descriptions on plaques for items located had a question mark or “we are unsure” written on them, those that did have descriptions included Lord Draugers missing longsword, floorboards from the Fir Cruthen Embassy in Jhereg lands and a branch from the tree of magic. All items, should the relevant person find out was missing, would cause significant trouble. 

Thankfully Jhereg are almost never permitted within the museum for they ask too many questions and try to explain to museum experts that a rock from the plane of solid is not the Unicorn Killer stone or other such outlandish theories about how the world works. They also bristle at the geas placed on them to never reveal what’s inside the museum should they be permitted. 

Walking on through, past to some are the great treasures of an empire the Cruthen disregarded as weird or unnatural items. “It’s the lowest performing part of the museum!” Kayle stated “We debated putting a QuaggSpoons in to peak interest but apparently it kills the atmosphere!” They approached a knife suspended in a metal cage; the plaque read a gift from lord Loud Thunder (handle with gloves to keep prints intact). Though it seems a strange place to put such useful evidence, this was the most protected place in the world, besides who was going to steal something to stitch up the Jhereg?

At the end of the exhibit in a simple wooden box lay a book titled “Power of the planes, a Jhereg guide to understanding and mastering the cosmos”. the leather and designs of the planes was extraordinary, the filigree solid platinum and the protective corner covers pure basilisk fang. However, there was a detailed phallus drawn in red ink on the cover. The plaque simply read “Manxie original”

“I feel you’ve pushed us through this without appreciating the Jhereg cousin” Aila protested at the haste they went through the exhibit. 

Del threw up in a bin.

Around halfway through the museum they walk to the red velvet rope with the words Mercenaries, a history etched across the door. A rickety golem stands in the way with a coin slot on its breast, 1 silver to enter and see the rich history of the mercenaries. 

Our heroes walk on past.

Aila enhances her sight with corporeal magic looking past the golem. All that’s within the room is a book of marching drills signed by The Black Company, disappointed she doesn’t even consider leaving a copper to the golem.

There seems to be some renovations going on within the middle of the museum adding a wing for the Kabourashi, though there only seems to be some kind of large lizard with the word shadow cat on its plaque, perhaps cat means something different there? Aswell as the Hei Raveni portion of the museum, though Kayle remarks that you have to have 50 items to be a proper exhibit and they only managed 49.

Walking past another of the living exhibits or scholars as they’re called in the museum, they approach the final exhibition of the allied nations, The Nomads/Steppe Alliance.

Aggro McCormacc an recognised elder of the Steppe no less was staring at a large table with the plaque “The table from Table” wondering why we would waste the time stealing it. “I needed somewhere to put my gin!” Kayle exclaimed, no further questions were asked “besides they were so busy talking no one noticed we had moved it!”. 

Walking through the Nomad section there was a selection of horses, rarity’s in their own right, a collection of colours and shades each belonging to a great Khan or warrior. Del started about Epona travelling to the Steppe lands but was cut off by the question of why there was a circle of bloodied rocks in the centre of the room.

‘The contest is very simple” Aggro explained. Two folk walk into the circle with a rock, you can only use this rock in the contest no others. You can throw it, hit with it or just be aggressive and threaten with it. The goal is to get your opponent out of the ring of rocks, however should you interfere with the ring of rocks the audience is allowed to throw those rocks back into the arena. The only other way it can end is if it lasts until sunrise then its decided a draw A strange contest to be sure.

Surrounding the room were also various Yaks though one upon closer inspection looked like an Ogre with antlers on its head, whatever enchantment had been placed upon it when you walked past it uttered the word “Yaaaaaaaak”. Several have the inscription donated by Genghis Hamtar, more if you want them. Such a mixture of colours, fabrics and designs showed how very different the Steppe Alliance were internally. We might not even know a fraction of what's out there in the land, though the contemplation was broken by “Yaaaaaak” echoing through the hall.

As they approached the exit they passed a collection of sticks apparently there version of a grove the plaque said, though how you could praise the gods, spirits and ancestors around some sticks seemed alien to the druids, no circle of hessian no blood, heads or skulls how strange a culture they are. 

“Yaaaaaak”. 

It was time to go.

Finally the heart of the Museum, the Fir Cruthen lands of Caledonia, Cymrja, Erin, Manx and Kernow, though the last one had some lion ogham under it no one bothered to translate. Aila’s eyes widened, finally a chance to see more of the world out of the village, a hand grabbed her shoulder “I'm afraid we don’t have time for that chum, not even to see the Ya-Ki-Dah martial art demonstration!” Kayle said sadly. They walked to the Erin section, passed the portraits and banners of past heroes. Though they had only been in Erin a few weeks ago what stood before them was a perfect replica of the Fianna Hall they had seen. A man in a strange style hat with a collection of green and gold feathers protruding out of it was adding the final touches to the replica hall. 

“Ah Cymrjana, glad you got our message and work so quickly!” Kayle said punching his arm in the Cardigan greeting and brandishing the last piece they had recovered from the Fianna Hall itself. “Once this is in we can build the real one for the knights under the Finn bridge”. “Are you putting in a golem Fianna?” Aila asked. Everyone stared in stunned silence. “Would you like a job?” Cymrjana asked as a golem near identical to the Fianna on Erin walked over and sat in the hall.

“What, where did that come from, how!?!” Aila questioned.
“This museum is the wonder of the world lass, if you think it, they will come” Cymrjana said with a wink.

Clearly confused and defeated Aila joined the others as they walked to the QuaggSpoons, The Dragon's Horde, located in the museum itself to collect King Quagg and the Dragon who had been here since arriving home and were slowly sliding down their seats. 

“Cardigan is a weird place”

“Oh, wait until you meet The Dentists”.