When we first started conceptualising the project that became Fae as Folk we couldn't help but imagine ourselves in war paint and furs, bardic queens of an iron age settlement, stirring our fellow warriors to battle with tales of blood and beauty beneath benighted thatch.

Well dear mortals, we've only gone and done it.

Halloween at Butser Ancient Farm was the stuff of our sweetest historic folk-horror dreams, from the pouring rain and screeching owls, to the torches and horse skulls that lined the path toward the roundhouse, to the roundhouse itself: all smoky air and glimmering embers and echoless acoustics.

There is a theory that the folk tales of faeries in hollow hills stem from a bone-deep memory of our ancestors living together in great turf roundhouses. And having spent an evening sheltering from the storm in one, we can attest that there was certainly something of the womb, the tomb and the other world to it.

Our performance was preceded by two talented storytellers, one presenting a gory Old Norse saga about a revenant spirit preying on a Viking village - a theme that hit harder in our Iron Age surroundings. The second skald treated us to a pair of spooky stories, one concerning death at sea and the other recounting the origin of Jack'O'Lanterns. We laughed as much as we shuddered at the tales he wove, supping on spiced mead and staring into the shadows cast by the cracking fire.

Our set was especially important, as it marked our first entirely acoustic performance with the magical Madi on percussion. Guided by her cajon and booming frame drum we leaned into our surroundings, becoming the smoke, the screeching owl, the spirit of Samhain. We told tales of the Wild Hunt and the Unseelie Court, the Huldra and Morrigan's Corbies.

And as the night drew to an end, we did as our ancient ancestors must have done on dark October nights when the rain was relentless and the Veil grew thin: we reached out to our audience, our fellow dwellers in the hollow hill, and asked them to join us in song. The result was a low, eerie rumble of voices in the darkness, gradually growing in number and power as we dared them to rise up and fight with us.

Mortals, our spines tingled.

We can't wait to play our acoustic set with Madi again, tapping into an older songcraft and feeling the drum echo through us. Nor can we wait for another chance to play at the amazing Butser Ancient Farm - a place where time not only stands still but turns back on itself, drawing us into another age.

In the Celtic calendar, Samhain marks the end of one year and the beginning of another. For us, it was certainly an appropriate end to a busy month of touring, and the start of a slightly more settled few months of local gigs, recording sessions and podcast prep.

We're looking forward to sharing some surprises with you, and celebrating Yuletide in Unseelie style - so stay vigilant!