Winterwreath
The Legend of the Winter Wreath
The little Dalremian village where the Wreath tradition first hails from has no name; not that it would matter in the slightest. Suffice to say that the road between the houses was the only one, and the pine trees that filled the forest around it were old and robust. There was still a church, more a little stone chapel than anything grand, with a single stained glass window above the door. The woodsman that tended the forest were broad, and the women that tended the fires busty.
At least so the men recounting the tale in the taverns claim.
It was also well known that in the Advent season, when the nights first grew cold and dark, that the devil would send his minions to stir up the creatures of the forest against the village. Most dangerous to the village was the dark-ringed Night Prowlers, whose sticky and nimble fingers wound their way under every door and undid every latch. Larders were ravaged and pantries were stripped bare when they entered, forcing the village to band together on fewer and more precious foods for survival.
The First Bough
It was an apprentice woodcutter that found the first method of repelling the Night Prowlers. Having felled a pine, the Apprentice was tasked with stripping it of its boughs as penance for slacking off the day before. The Woodcutter observed a Night Prowler watching him from the edge of the tree-line, and threw a bough at it in frustration. The Night Prowler Hissed and retreated. Curious and emboldened, the Apprentice grabbed another bough and gave chase. It was near a mile before the Apprentice relented, returning to his tree to find his master ready to chastize him. Not even the news of the Night Prowler and the Bough lightened his mood.
Still, when the apprentice returned home that night, he hung his pine bough on the door in defiance of the Night Prowler that he had chased away. That night, the Night Prowlers struck again. Yet the Apprentice's house was untouched. Suddenly, his account with the bough had more precedence. Cautiously, the Apprentice returned to his fallen tree and gathered more boughs, hanging them on willing homes. Night came again, and more homes went untouched. Pine boughs, it seemed, repelled the Night Prowlers. Boughs were soon hung on every door, dangling from top to bottom.
For a short time, there was peace.
The Second Bough
This peace was not to last. The Night Prowlers were clever, and hungry. if they could take easy food from the larders of the village, they would. But first the boughs had to be removed. So they tricked the dogs of the village into attacking them, pulling them down from the doors. Unlike the Night Prowlers, the hounds were necessary for the village's survival; they could not be chased away or killed. Bringing them inside only caused a sleepless night as the Hounds threw themselves against the door in pursuit of the Night Prowlers. The mood in the village soured.
It was a Fire tender who suggested, finally, perhaps tying the bough up in a shape that the hounds could not reach, so they could not tear it down. The village was skeptical; what if the lack of length along the door allowed the Prowlers to sneak through? But the sleepless nights were becoming too much to bear. The bough was wrapped into a circular shape and hung back on the door.
And the night was quiet once more. The hounds rested, and the Night Prowler's fingers did not creep under the door.
The Third Bough
It did not take long for every house in the village to have a ring-bound pine bough on their door. The Night Prowlers retreated into the woods, and the village could rest easy.... for a time.
But the scars of years of larders going empty and children going hungry do not fade easily.
It happened one dark evening when a woodcutter returned to his home late at night, after helping haul a hunted bear back to town so it could be broken down. He opened the door to his house, walked into the bedroom, and was almost sent to his heavenly home when his startled wife threw a knife across the room. She had heard the door open and, not hearing her husband's voice, thought the Night Prowlers had returned. Clearly, additional solutions had to be found.
The solution was found when a traveling trader passed through on his way to Dalreme castle, bearing all sorts of goods for the upcoming holiday. Sweets and trinkets of all sorts filled his cart, in exchanged for wooden carvings and other useful tools. Of particular interest to the beleaguered wives of the town were the brass bells that jingled when they were jostled. They rang merrily, heralding the end of the advent season and the coming of Christmas. Several were hastily bought with precious coin, and tied to the pine boughs that hung on the doors.
And for the rest of Advent, and all through the Christmas season, the bells rang merrily on the doors when a welcome friend entered. And all were welcome friends. 1
Except for the Night Prowlers, those sticky fiends.
It was an apprentice woodcutter that found the first method of repelling the Night Prowlers. Having felled a pine, the Apprentice was tasked with stripping it of its boughs as penance for slacking off the day before. The Woodcutter observed a Night Prowler watching him from the edge of the tree-line, and threw a bough at it in frustration. The Night Prowler Hissed and retreated. Curious and emboldened, the Apprentice grabbed another bough and gave chase. It was near a mile before the Apprentice relented, returning to his tree to find his master ready to chastize him. Not even the news of the Night Prowler and the Bough lightened his mood.
Still, when the apprentice returned home that night, he hung his pine bough on the door in defiance of the Night Prowler that he had chased away. That night, the Night Prowlers struck again. Yet the Apprentice's house was untouched. Suddenly, his account with the bough had more precedence. Cautiously, the Apprentice returned to his fallen tree and gathered more boughs, hanging them on willing homes. Night came again, and more homes went untouched. Pine boughs, it seemed, repelled the Night Prowlers. Boughs were soon hung on every door, dangling from top to bottom.
For a short time, there was peace.
The Second Bough
This peace was not to last. The Night Prowlers were clever, and hungry. if they could take easy food from the larders of the village, they would. But first the boughs had to be removed. So they tricked the dogs of the village into attacking them, pulling them down from the doors. Unlike the Night Prowlers, the hounds were necessary for the village's survival; they could not be chased away or killed. Bringing them inside only caused a sleepless night as the Hounds threw themselves against the door in pursuit of the Night Prowlers. The mood in the village soured.
It was a Fire tender who suggested, finally, perhaps tying the bough up in a shape that the hounds could not reach, so they could not tear it down. The village was skeptical; what if the lack of length along the door allowed the Prowlers to sneak through? But the sleepless nights were becoming too much to bear. The bough was wrapped into a circular shape and hung back on the door.
And the night was quiet once more. The hounds rested, and the Night Prowler's fingers did not creep under the door.
The Third Bough
It did not take long for every house in the village to have a ring-bound pine bough on their door. The Night Prowlers retreated into the woods, and the village could rest easy.... for a time.
But the scars of years of larders going empty and children going hungry do not fade easily.
It happened one dark evening when a woodcutter returned to his home late at night, after helping haul a hunted bear back to town so it could be broken down. He opened the door to his house, walked into the bedroom, and was almost sent to his heavenly home when his startled wife threw a knife across the room. She had heard the door open and, not hearing her husband's voice, thought the Night Prowlers had returned. Clearly, additional solutions had to be found.
The solution was found when a traveling trader passed through on his way to Dalreme castle, bearing all sorts of goods for the upcoming holiday. Sweets and trinkets of all sorts filled his cart, in exchanged for wooden carvings and other useful tools. Of particular interest to the beleaguered wives of the town were the brass bells that jingled when they were jostled. They rang merrily, heralding the end of the advent season and the coming of Christmas. Several were hastily bought with precious coin, and tied to the pine boughs that hung on the doors.
And for the rest of Advent, and all through the Christmas season, the bells rang merrily on the doors when a welcome friend entered. And all were welcome friends. 1
Except for the Night Prowlers, those sticky fiends.
Execution
In modern times, the Winter Wreath is a decoration used most commonly in Ruben and Lazuli, the halves of the former kingdom of Dalreme. However, the tradition has drifted southward to Mira and the broken ruins of Cailar as refugees, immigrants, and political marriages drifted back and forth.
It is always hung on the front door of the house, decked with a brass bell that will ring merrily when the door is opened. More modern renditions have added ribbons2, decorative pinecones and berries, and even false recreations of birds and winter frost.
For Catholics, the wreath his hung on the first Sunday of the advent season and is not removed until the Feast of Epiphany. For the non-denominational or those of other religions, the date the wreath is hung can vary, but is usually at the start of the month, and taken down after the presents are opened Christmas day.
It is always hung on the front door of the house, decked with a brass bell that will ring merrily when the door is opened. More modern renditions have added ribbons2, decorative pinecones and berries, and even false recreations of birds and winter frost.
For Catholics, the wreath his hung on the first Sunday of the advent season and is not removed until the Feast of Epiphany. For the non-denominational or those of other religions, the date the wreath is hung can vary, but is usually at the start of the month, and taken down after the presents are opened Christmas day.
1Several aspects of this legend have been called into question over the years, such as the identity of the 'Night Prowlers' and if they were truly repulsed by Pine boughs or by other means and methods that happened to be put into action at the same time. In the end, though, the WinterWreath is a cultural legend and one that can't be pried from the culture of Dalreme with an iron bar. Or by a Night Prowler, whatever they may be.
2This is because it is a well known fact that young girls will put ribbons on anything if allowed.
2This is because it is a well known fact that young girls will put ribbons on anything if allowed.
Related Ethnicities
As a former young girl, you are correct about the ribbons. I enjoy the origins of this tradition, true or not. :)
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