Elendor
Unexpected visitors
A pair of strangers who turn out to be rather more than they seem leave Fian Ciaran Ranich with an uncomfortable dilemma ...
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Fearachas
Game Date: 6 of April in the year 3046
IC Time: Afternoon
Description:
Fearachas
The thunderous fall mists to the south of this tiny valley hidden between the undulating folds of the surrounding hills. Life flourishes flowers, foliage and trees bursting forth to flood the ground with a rich malachite sea of colours. To the west of this hollow, a small Dunlending village squats, a model of pastoral serenity. Some thirty-over stone buildings with thatched roofs nestle in the centre of golden fields. Rising majestically about the village grounds are the Caerdh woods, hiding the village from view of most. From here, all that can be seen of the outside world are the Misty Mountains to the East and the distant stronghold of the Bears to the south.
Darkness hides all but the bass song of the falls to the south and the few pinpricks of candlelight from villagers still up late at night.
Obvious exits:
Cottage leads to Cottage.
South leads to Waterfall <>.
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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
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Real Time is: Sun Feb 22 13:55:25 2009
IC weather is: Wind: fresh - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Waxing gibbous
IC time is: Late Night
IC date is: Mersday, Day 6 of April in the year 3046.
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[Ciaran(#23897)] It's late afternoon and Fearachas is busy with activity. Men and women are finishing up their tasks of the day and eager for a meal. Children are getting wrangled back into homes, the smell of good food fills the air, and the while there's a gentle breeze, it's warm and filled with the promise of spring soon to come.
Dunland's weather is capricious indeed. An early 'spring' has been followed by weeks of snow and sleet, but perhaps this time the sun's promise of warmth and light will hold true. Tramping along the road to the village is a group of men, but the guards show little concern for these, at least, are known. The Fian's uncle is at their head, whilst amongst their number the dark curls of Breveg can be seen.
[Caileann(#20237)] As Caileann first catches sight of home peering out at him through the trees, his habitual scowl seems to relax a little bit. The tall Dunland man will pause for a moment to wave a hand over his shoulder, and he begins to glance back, but appears to think better of it. He looks a bit uneasy, shuffling his feet slightly.
One of the other Fearachas men jogs up, and after a quick word and a slap to the shoulder, takes off running towards the town. "Right, we're only here to resupply and report to the Fian, remember - don't go getting comfortable!"
[Carac(#32384)] Having once again given his name as Olmys, Carac travels near the back of this group. Dressed once more in the furs and skins common amongst hunters, he looks about the small village as it comes into view. When Caileann speak he quickens his pace slightly and moves up the line towards the dark curled figure of Brev.
"Does he know of my wishes to speak with the Fian?" he asks with a nod towards Caileann at the head of their party.
Breveg hesitates but a moment, then answers Olmys with a nod and, 'I'll go and remind him.' Swiftly he moves up to the head of the group, and murmurs something into Caileann's ear. "The hunter, Olmys - the fellow I'd run across earlier - he's asking to speak to the Fian. My memory is that the words were on behalf of another, a young girl it was."
Oddly enough, as he speaks, his eyes flicker from the runner sent to Ranich to the countryside behind them, a preoccupied expression on his features.
[Ciaran(#23897)] When the runner hurries on ahead, it doesn't take long for word to spread through the close community. Soon enough people are moving to greet the returning party, gathering at the edge of town to intercept them. Fian Ciaran is among those going to meet with the group, but he moves at a slower pace, talking heatedly with another man as he walks, if his short and fierce hand gestures are any indication of his mood.
Caileann grunts, a curt nod the precursor to his response. "He'll get his chance to speak, I'm certain. I'm more concerned about ours slacking off for a drink." As people begin to appear, he'll offer a few brief waves to them before nodding in the direction of the approaching Fian. "May be Ciaran isn't in the best of moods, of course..." It's not hard to tell that he's headed directly for his nephew, and his strides pick up in pace after he gives a dismissing gesture to the party.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac watches the approach and his brow furrow slightly as he spots the seemingly grumpy Fian draw near. "Well," he says to Brev with a very slight twitch of a grin. "Mayhap I'll wait a bit before speaking of some things, eh?" he asks. He shrugs off the pack he carries on his shoulder and lets it drop to the ground beside him.
[O'Neil(#19982)] Travelling alongside the man known as Olmys, is 'The Giant'. He is dressed in all greys and carries a massive maul hammer which rests against his shoulder. More hammers adorn this man but they are ones of construction rather than destruction and are all safely secured to a work belt. His expression is blank this day but his eyes are constantly dancing about, from one thing to another, attempting to be aware of all things around him at once.
As the smells of cooking reach his nostrils from the hold, his stomach growels causing him to speak, "I could sure go for some nicely cooked stag."
[Verge(#32426)]
Ambling its way through the thickets and plantlife near the the edge of the Caerdh woods, comes a muddied and wearied cloaked figure. Its back is slouched forward, and with its free hand outstretched, the approaching figure gropes its surroundings, brushing away any hanging vines or branches in its way. When the wayfarer lifts its gaze up off the ground, one may see the features of a young woman her cheeks soiled with dirt and mud, and her black hair looking like a stringy, greasy mess. Quite a pitiful sight. In her other hand, the traveller carries a medium-sized sack filled with who knows what. The young woman, as she steps out into the clearing many yards away from the newly arrived group, occasionally sways from one side to the other as she tries to regain her balance. Perhaps she had gotten lost on her way to the village?
Ciaran is draws closer and his words drift along the wind. ".. if you had done as you were told, you wouldn't need extra time to get the field prepared, it would be -done-. Stop bothering me and go get it finished, Sarmin! I don't care if the Kiern-damned King of Dunland walks into the village, if that field isn't cleared by tomorrow afternoon I'm going to let Cailean take you with them to use as bait for the orcs!" The Fian snaps at the man at glares at him until the farmer finally runs off to do as ordered.
Ranich turn his attention to the arrival of the scouting party now and doesn't quite manage a smile, but nods in greeting as they approach. "Uncle. It's good to see you back!"
Breveg lets out a snorted breath, and remarks mildly to Caileann, "You can hardly grudge them one night. It'll take that long to assemble the supplies. Anyway, I'll tell him." The 'him' in question is apparently not Ciaran, for he remains in place as the older man approaches the Fian, eyeing Ciaran's hand gestures uneasily.
"Aye," he answers Olmys in a murmur. "Not sure what got him so riled." The words of the 'giant' are met with a chuckle. "More likely salt mutton and barley broth, this time of year. Unless you're the one bringing in the stag?"
He turns his head again, and murmurs, as though to himself, "Wonder where that odd wo-" The question breaks off, as his gaze falls on that newly emerged figure. "Kiern, what a mess she looks, he comments aloud, and backs away from Olmys and the rest so that he can intercept the stumbling Verge, holding out a hand. "What happened? You all right?" Then, pointedly, "There /is/ a path."
Caileann offers a low, almost humourless laugh as Breveg speaks. "Maybe so. Either way, any of them that /over/indulge are going to find themselves as shields." The disheveled woman's reappearance gets a sharp turn of the head in her direction, but the bemused Cailean will just stare for a moment until his nephew's voice seizes his attention.
"Only briefly, if there is any luck. Breveg's knowledge of the wilds has proven to live up to his claims... Moreso than we imagined, even." He flicks his head back slightly in the party's direction, offering "Strangers who would speak with you. Barseg's son vouches for them."
[O'Neil(#19982)] The words of Olmys cause O'Neil to chuckle. "Still beats eating oats I guess......" The huge man then turns to watch as the swaying woman makes her way out of the wood. "Some people..." O'Neil then begins to shake his head from side to side as if in disappointment.
Turning back to face the other men he then inquires. "Have we actually had any sightings yet?"
[Carac(#32384)] Carac turns towards the newly arrived woman as well and gives Brev a nod of agreement as to her state. "Should point her back towards the fall," he half whispers to his friend. "Looks like she could use a bath more than a path."
He turns his attention twoards the meeting of Uncle and Fian then, watching and attempting to assess the mood. After a moment he turns towards O'neil and chuckles. "I would think oats with agree with you," he says to the large smith. "Since you're the size of an ox, I figure you must eat like one."
[Ciaran(#23897)] "Good news. I'm glad that the expedition is working out." Ciaran responds, breaking a smile now as his closes with Caileann. He reaches to give his uncle a brief hug of affection, speaking in a low undertone, "I admit, I worried that this plan might meet with disaster." Then the fian asks. "Strangers? What do they wish to speak about?" He asks, turning to gaze at the newcomers that joined with the orc-hunting group.
Breveg, preoccupied as he is, nevertheless looks back to his companions of a moment ago and gives a shake of the head - though whether it is for Olmys, or for O'Neil's question of earlier, who can say?
Looking to Ciaran, he inclines his head politely, and murmurs a muted "Fian," that may or may not be snatched away by the breeze.
[Verge(#32426)]
Verge seems to be too distraught to take in all the sounds and smells of the village, so whatever the group up ahead may be speaking of goes right over her head. The Fian's shouts are loud enough to break through the haze that Verge seems to be in, and she straightens herself, breaking a fall by placing her left foot behind the other. "Oh... it's you again," Verge speaks. "After ya'd let me go off by myself, I must've taken a wrong turn. I've been wanderin' the forest for -hours-. Must've taken a whole extra day to get here." The woman does not make any motions to try and grasp the man's extended hand she merely steps forward, lowering her gaze back down to the ground as she lifts a hand to brush away any strewn hair falling over her face. "I thought you'd told me to head -eastwards-, not -southwards-," she adds, with a hint of annoyance in her tone. "Oh, ugh, I'm a horrible mess. I slipped and fell into some mud a ways back," she briefly explains, in a bit more hushed tone. Carac's comments are within earshot, anyway.
Caileann clasps the young Fian to himself for a moment, the hint of a smile on his face as he replies "Surely you had more faith in us than that." The questions about the newcomers seems to signal a return to the usual grim-faced old man, and he pauses for a moment, as if looking for words.
"I do not exactly know. The hunter there... Olmys, I am told is his name." He'll give a nod when he sees the man looking over at them, before turning back to Ciaran. "He wishes to speak on the behalf of a young lady. Breveg came across him in our journey, and they seem to know each other." Cailean offers a shrug. "Shall I call him over?"
[Carac(#32384)] When Carac notices the eyes of the Fian upon him he takes a deep breath and steps forward. "Fian," he greets. "I've come from the north and have news concerning the rumors about Mathain and the Hawk," he says without preamble.
"I've also brung furs and skins to trade for any supplies you may have to spare," he then motions towards O'neil. "My companion has skill with hammer and anvil and will offer this in trade as well."
Breveg frowns at Verge's actions as much as her explanation. "You were out in the forest alone, I hardly thought you needed a minder," he snaps. "Didn't you see the path?" And then, lower-voiced, "Kiern, woman, you'll sell no furs looking like that. There's something ... not quite right about you. What is it?" Brows lowered, he glances down at the extended hand that was seemingly spurned, shrugs and makes a grab for the young woman's shoulder.
The words of 'Olmys' drift toward him on the wind, and he stiffens, clearly attentive.
Ciaran will nod greetings to the other men as they all arrive, including Breveg should he catch his eye. Then he looks back to the hunter. "Good day, Olmys. I am Fian Ciaran Ranich." He gestures the man over as the Fian breaks away from the group of people, moving to a clear area. To Caileann he speaks, "A young lady? That woman there with Breveg?" He asks.
[O'Neil(#19982)] The 'Giant' has been listening carefully as the men around him discuss recent matters. When Olmys mentions his skill at smithing, he nods though and finally speaks, "You will not be disappointed by my work. I believe I will go for a bit of a walk and then see if I can find this smithy of yours." Nodding to his companion Olmys, he turns and begins to walk off down towards the village.
Caileann looks back at the woman, mouth opening, but he pauses for a moment, just staring at her. It's quite obvious he doesn't know what to make of her, and would rather not consider her at all. "I... Do not think so, Fian. I was led to believe that she was younger still." Cailean will shake his head, taking his eyes off the strange woman to watch the 'giant' trod off with an arched eyebrow. What a group.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac moves towards Ciaran when beckoned over, geturing for his companions to remain. His first words are directed not towards Ciaran, however, but towards the uncle and Breveg. "I must ask your pardon," he says. "I have misled you both. In fact Olmys is not my name, but I dared not give you my true name. I wished to deliver my message to the Fian in person."
He then turns towards his attention towards Ciaran. "In truth, I am Carac Bryntadd, son of I'racil and a representative of those who do in fact now gather near the ruins of Mathain."
[Verge(#32426)]
"Well, no.. it was raining, and the path was muddied I couldn't see it. I'm alright." Verge then proceeds to step away from Brev and towards the sound of the group further into the village, but is held back by Brev's grasp on her shoulder. "Oh, alright." She turns herself around to face the man, keeping her gaze cast downward. Lowering her voice considerably, she admits, "I'm blind. I thought you'd figured it already. It's sort of obvious." A slight blush appears on her cheeks upon hearing the Fian's words concerning her. "Oh, what did you tell them about me?!"
"What?" Having suceeded in getting a grasp of Verge's shoulder, Breveg's grip tightens briefly, then relaxes to no more than a gentle pressure. "No, I didn't know. That explains some things ... hmm."
Turning from the young woman, He hails a girl passing with a basket, a child of ten summers or so with a pair of brown pigtails "Aine?" he calls, his tone kindly. "The lass here stumbled, and is a little disoriented. Can you show her where it is the women wash? I'd offer to help, but ..." He winks, the sides of his mouth pulling up in a half-grin. The girl nods obligingly, and reaches out a hand to tug at Verge. "This way."
Which leaves Breveg free to spin round as Carac's words fade, apparent shock writ across his features.
Ciaran looks the traveler over with casual interest as he approaches, but when the man begins to speak the expression of curiosity hardens and he looks sharply to his uncle for a moment with a flicker of alarm. Then the young Fian looks back and speaks, "The rebel, Carac! You lead the Hawk." His brows draw together and he speaks in a commanding tone to the those from the hunting party that still linger. "Sieze this man. And detain his companions!"
[Caileann(#20237)] "Devil!" Cailean's hands dart for his spear as he moves to put himself between the rebel leader and his nephew - emotion flaring across his face in a fierce glare, he more snarls than speaks. "What treachery is this?! I don't know why you've come here, Hawk, but you will find no friend in Fearachas!"
[Carac(#32384)] Carac frowns at the response his words receive, but makes no move to attack or otherwise. "Take my weapons if you feel it necessary," he states. "I have not come as an invader or to threaten. I come only to say that those in Mathain, wish you know harm, nor do they pose a threat to you as long as none is given them."
He then gives a soft sigh. "I am no rebel," he adds then. "I wish only to see my land and my people in peace. The fighting amongst the Wulf and Bear, the rallying of Stag's army in Forthunn. All of this is caused by lack of land and resources, there is land west of Mathain that can be settled if the shield of the Hawk were to return. We wish nothing more than to return to our homelands, we have no desire for the rest of Caerdh or for revenge as the rumors say. Only to be allowed to return to what is rightfully ours."
Breveg stoops to his boot, and straightens holding a dagger, slightly smaller than the one at his hip. Should any get the opportunity to examine it later they deduce from its balance that it was originally made for a woman's hand. His encounter with Verge has separated him off from the rest of the group, so that he stands alone ... and there he remains, hefting the lighter dagger doubtfully as though he did not trust it to find the correct target. The Fian, after all, is awfully close to the self-proclaimed Hawk.
Ciaran gestures the men that responded to his command to go ahead and relieve Carac of his weapons. The Fian reaches forward to rest a hand on Cailean's arm as his uncle moves before him. "Let us speak somewhere else upon this." Ciaran says in a level voice. He addresses the guards, "Take the woman, track down that smith, move them to my brother's home and take up guard there. Let her get cleaned up, but do not let them leave."
Ranich looks back to Carac, studying him for a long time, "Caileann, let's speak with Carac in your home. This is not a conversation to take lightly, nor in haste. You and Breveg can bring him."
[Caileann(#20237)] For a moment, it seems as though the uncle is going to ignore Ciaran, his livid expression a stark contrast to Ciaran's evenness. "My Fian, you wish to /talk/ with this man? To invite him into your town?" He falls silent for a moment then, eyes frozen on the man.
With a great sigh, Cailean will step aside - if only a bit. "You /are/ Fian, after all. It will be done as you say, though it is a far sight more than I would give one with his history."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac, on the outside at least, does not show any signs of fear or feeling threatened. When the spear is pulled back he gives Caileann a nod of thanks. "You will lead the way?" he asks him then. "And perhaps on the journey tell me what it is in my history that angers you so?"
Breveg's gaze flickers in the direction Verge had gone, and back again. Then, for the first time, he addresses Ciaran. "Fian, I doubt very much she's Hawk. She wasn't with them, and she's-" he pauses, frowning, then supplies with a snort, "not right in the head. Can't some of the women watch her? Putting her with -them- might drive out what wits she has left."
Even as the plea is made, he obediently moves toward Carac, the little dagger remaining in his hand. "That way," he states curtly, gesturing with the dagger-blade, before he falls into step at the rear of the little group.
[Ciaran(#23897)] "She'll be well enough with my brother and the guards. We do not mistreat people here." Ciaran states, eying Breveg for a long moment with a searching expression. Then he dismisses whatever concern gripped him and moves to begin walking to his uncle's home.
Caileann glances between Breveg and Ciaran for a moment, watching his nephew's reaction. When he says nothing, it appears to be good enough for Cailean, who merely motions with the tip of his spear, ignoring Carac's commentary for the time.
The house itself is simple and subdued in decoration. A bit small, but the four men can fit in fairly comfortably. Some carved wooden chairs surround a hearth - Cailean grabs one of these in one hand and carries it out towards the centre of the room, dropping down on the wood floor with a thud. "Have a seat. If you will. I'm sure we all await with baited breath your reason for being here." The older man will move towards the door to close it and lean against it, doing his best to return to an even voice when he says "Ciaran, I should hope that your aunt does forgive us for bringing people without warning."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac takes a seat as directed and looks up at the other three men and lifts his shoulders with a half shrug. "I have told you my reasons for being here," he states. "I come only to convey that those in Mathain have no ill intent towards the people of Ranich the people of Bear in general. They wish only to rebuild their home and to once again serve as the first line of defense in the north."
He looks about the room for a moment. "Might you have something to drink about?" he asks. "It has been a long journey and my throat is a bit dry."
[Ciaran(#23897)] "She is with my mother and Rianna tonight. They all fuss over Cavan too much." The Fian murmurs absently, watching Carac closely. "Why did you burn Kierkgard if you only seek peace and a home?" Ciaran asks, his eyes never leaving the Hawk. "Why come here and not approach the Ceann directly?"
As Caileann leans against the door, Breveg moves round the room to take up a position nearer the hearth, resuming the silence of earlier. The dagger is tucked back into his boot, for the moment. Ciaran it is whom he watches, one brow lifting in question, but he remains silent.
[Caileann(#20237)] "I'm sure there's water in the kitchen," the older man murmurs "but my Fian's questions here are some of my own, so I would like to hear your answer first." He does move away from the door and towards the kitchen, one hand remaining on his spear, and his eyes staying on the figure of Carac. "The burning of Kierkgard is of special interest to me."
[Carac(#32384)] "Had you been to Kierkgard recently?" Carac asks, looking from one face to the other. "Had you seen how its residents were treated? How the Guardians had stole everything, including their dignity from them? Forced to live in fear that would be thrown from the city and into the arms of the orc hordes they were told ravaged the lands outside the city walls? I only reminded the people of Kierkgard that they were not slaves to the Guardians, that if they could choose how they lived their own lives. If the Guardians had not tried to stop them from leaving there would have been no fighting and the city would not have burned."
He lifts a brow questioningly and looks from one face to another imploringly. "Would you have done anything less?" he asks. "Would I not be more of a criminal if I had turned my back and allowed the lies of the Guardians and the mistreatment of our people to continue?"
Ciaran listens, slowly crossing his arms as Carac explains his what his intentions were. "How does what happened in Kierkgard connect to what you desire now? Why come back to Mathain now, and not sooner?" The farmer asks, his tone more curious now as the harsh demeanor he displayed earlier is replaced with something more patient. "And you did not answer my other question about the Ceann."
Breveg sighs as he listens to the pattern of question and response. "We all seek peace," he murmurs. "It is just that we have different ways of achieving it. The true question is how those ways can best be reconciled." Then, perhaps regretting the speech, he falls silent to let Carac answer the Fian's latest queries.
[Caileann(#20237)] "Reconcile? /Reconcile/?" Cailean grunts, shaking his head. "And how exactly was it that you knew this man previously, Breveg?" The elder Ranich taps the butt of his spear on the floor now, eyeing his nephew's retainer warily. "Why would Carac, son of I'racil come to Ranich in the first place? Did he think he would find allies here?"
[Carac(#32384)] Carac gives a simple shrug of his shoulders in response to the first question that comes from Ciaran. "I suppose the words to people of Kierkgard reminded me of the same things," he answers. "The Hawk are tired of wandering. They wish only to settle down in their homeland once again. As for the Ceann? I was in Creatrach for the gathering when Gregoir was chosen, I was not able speak with the Ceann, but I know that he is Maulduin's grandson. Maulduin is trapped in the past and unable to look to the future," he says letting his gaze settle on Caileann. "He is too stubborn and prideful to listen to anything I say, I can only assume that his grandson's opinions have already been colored by Maulduin's beliefs."
He swallows in an attempt to relieve the dryness in his throat and speaks next to Caileann. "As I said, I was in Creatrach during the Gathering and I met Breveg there," he says. "Olmys was the name I used there and the one your young friend knew my by. I came here because at the gathering it seemed your Fian possessed more sense than the rest. All of whom were so much like . . . Maulduin."
Ciaran grows quiet, frowning. He looks to his uncle for a long time, then away to stare at nothing for an even greater length. The Fian sighs softly, running a hand through his hair. "This is complicated, what you seek. I cannot give you an answer right away. For now you will be an unwilling guest. As I said, we do not mistreat people here, but I will not let you leave until I decide, one way or the other." Ranich looks over to Brev. "Please go and collect Amos and Gerard." Two of the group that Ciaran originally took to Creatrach last fall.
"I met him in Creatrach," Breveg answers Caileann simply, letting Fian and Hawk leader carry on their own conversation. "When you and the Fian were busy with all those meetings, those of us left waiting occupied our time with competitions. Spear-throwing and the like. He ... he bested me." He scowls briefly at the ground at that admission, then his amber eyes return to Caileann. "And yes, reconcile. If any should hate the Hawk, it is I. Have you forgotten who they last rose against? Yet you do not hear me demanding a tribute in blood. That will not bring back the dead, nor will it drive the goblins from our borders. /That/ should remain our foremost goal."
At Ciaran's order, he straightens, his expression resigned, and moves toward the door. "Aye, Fian. Where will I find them?"
Caileann looks from Breveg to Carac, Carac to Ciaran, and back again for another moment, face clouding. Then, with a sudden jerk, he'll turn for the kitchen, free hand flying to his forehead and wiping down his face. "Never did I think I would be so glad for a Ceann who was kin to Ruadhri Maulduin, if that is the thinking of the Hawk. Never did I think I would see the day when the man who burnt down Kierkgard would come boldly into Fearachas seeking allies..." His voice trails off as he moves out of sight.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac gives Ciaran a nod and then turns to Caileann. "You too judge because of the past?" he asks. "Because I am a Hawk I am guilty of all the crimes committed by those who bore that title before me? Is that what you believe? Aye, Halen's mind was warped and his rebellion was a despicable deed, but most of those who followed him are in the grave or close to it. Yet, you will condemn those who follow because of their actions? Then should I condemn you for the actions of the Bear who siezed Redvyrne and committed atrocities there? They may have been Kedhern's men, but by your logic you are as guilty of the crimes since you are of the same clan."
Ciaran looks back as Cailean and Carac exchange words. When there is a break into silence he'll answer Brev's question. "In their homes. If you do not remember just ask someone... Thank you, Breveg." Does the Fian simply wish to remove Brev from the conversation? He turns his gaze back to Carac. "You know we would not welcome you with open arms, so let us try to keep the barbs of past deeds to a minimum." If anything the Fian looks as if he's simply unhappy that this situation has fallen into his lap. Of course, Ranich is rather known for staying out of things through history.
Breveg slips through the door, shutting it carefully behind him. Outside in the village there is clearly quite the gathering going on, for as he moves away his receding voice can be heard answering a bevy of questions: "Yes of course he's alive. He didn't struggle." ... "How should I know? Do I look like the Fian?" ... "Another jug of water, maybe?" ... "No, he wanted Amos and Gerard." ... "That way? Let me past, I'm in a hurry."
Caileann returns moments later, cup of water in hand. "Let him speak, Fian. Let him try to make Kedhern and Halen the same, and let him try to excuse the scourging of Kierkgard - that alone is enough to me, even if we choose not to look at Halen at all." He'll offer the cup to the Hawk leader with a nod. "The past is not something to be ignored lightly, for good or ill."
[Carac(#32384)] "Scourging of Kierkgard?" Carac demands. "The people who resided in Kierkgard have been led to new lands," he says. "Lands that will provide them with more than they were provided for inside the city. North Forthunn you will find near the ruins of Harthunn. Go and ask them if they have been done an injustice or if they have been freed. I tell you they have found a better life for themselves." He shakes his head then and chuckles.
"The Hawk are the ones looked upon as barbaric and ignorant, but you stand here and call me criminal for what? For freeing the people of Kierkgard from the enslavement of the Guardians and for the crimes commited by a man of my clan when I was but 10 years old?"
Ciaran looks back to his uncle, his face showing much confliction. "We should take the time to think this over, cool our heads." He speaks again, shaking his head. "I'm going to have Amos and Gerard move him somewhere secure. We can discuss tonight, us and Breveg." The fian looks back to Carac. "I will get you food, but I am going to instruct my men to use as much force as neccessary should you try anything."
[Caileann(#20237)] "As you wish, Fian... Gerard and Amos are good men. They will be vigilant." His tone has reverted to a peculiar flatness, and even as he speaks to his nephew, he continues to look at Carac, glancing up occassionally. "This will certainly make for interesting news. I suspect Fearachas will be quite busy tonight." For now at least, it seems like he's ignoring the man's statements.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac raises from his the chair and bows to the Fian of Ranich. "Thank you for your hospitality, Fian," he says. "I look forward to talking to you more in the nar future." He then turns towards Caileann and bows as well.
"And thank you for the water."
Fearachas
The thunderous fall mists to the south of this tiny valley hidden between the undulating folds of the surrounding hills. Life flourishes flowers, foliage and trees bursting forth to flood the ground with a rich malachite sea of colours. To the west of this hollow, a small Dunlending village squats, a model of pastoral serenity. Some thirty-over stone buildings with thatched roofs nestle in the centre of golden fields. Rising majestically about the village grounds are the Caerdh woods, hiding the village from view of most. From here, all that can be seen of the outside world are the Misty Mountains to the East and the distant stronghold of the Bears to the south.
Darkness hides all but the bass song of the falls to the south and the few pinpricks of candlelight from villagers still up late at night.
Obvious exits:
Cottage leads to Cottage.
South leads to Waterfall <
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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
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Real Time is: Sun Feb 22 13:55:25 2009
IC weather is: Wind: fresh - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Waxing gibbous
IC time is: Late Night
IC date is: Mersday, Day 6 of April in the year 3046.
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[Ciaran(#23897)] It's late afternoon and Fearachas is busy with activity. Men and women are finishing up their tasks of the day and eager for a meal. Children are getting wrangled back into homes, the smell of good food fills the air, and the while there's a gentle breeze, it's warm and filled with the promise of spring soon to come.
Dunland's weather is capricious indeed. An early 'spring' has been followed by weeks of snow and sleet, but perhaps this time the sun's promise of warmth and light will hold true. Tramping along the road to the village is a group of men, but the guards show little concern for these, at least, are known. The Fian's uncle is at their head, whilst amongst their number the dark curls of Breveg can be seen.
[Caileann(#20237)] As Caileann first catches sight of home peering out at him through the trees, his habitual scowl seems to relax a little bit. The tall Dunland man will pause for a moment to wave a hand over his shoulder, and he begins to glance back, but appears to think better of it. He looks a bit uneasy, shuffling his feet slightly.
One of the other Fearachas men jogs up, and after a quick word and a slap to the shoulder, takes off running towards the town. "Right, we're only here to resupply and report to the Fian, remember - don't go getting comfortable!"
[Carac(#32384)] Having once again given his name as Olmys, Carac travels near the back of this group. Dressed once more in the furs and skins common amongst hunters, he looks about the small village as it comes into view. When Caileann speak he quickens his pace slightly and moves up the line towards the dark curled figure of Brev.
"Does he know of my wishes to speak with the Fian?" he asks with a nod towards Caileann at the head of their party.
Breveg hesitates but a moment, then answers Olmys with a nod and, 'I'll go and remind him.' Swiftly he moves up to the head of the group, and murmurs something into Caileann's ear. "The hunter, Olmys - the fellow I'd run across earlier - he's asking to speak to the Fian. My memory is that the words were on behalf of another, a young girl it was."
Oddly enough, as he speaks, his eyes flicker from the runner sent to Ranich to the countryside behind them, a preoccupied expression on his features.
[Ciaran(#23897)] When the runner hurries on ahead, it doesn't take long for word to spread through the close community. Soon enough people are moving to greet the returning party, gathering at the edge of town to intercept them. Fian Ciaran is among those going to meet with the group, but he moves at a slower pace, talking heatedly with another man as he walks, if his short and fierce hand gestures are any indication of his mood.
Caileann grunts, a curt nod the precursor to his response. "He'll get his chance to speak, I'm certain. I'm more concerned about ours slacking off for a drink." As people begin to appear, he'll offer a few brief waves to them before nodding in the direction of the approaching Fian. "May be Ciaran isn't in the best of moods, of course..." It's not hard to tell that he's headed directly for his nephew, and his strides pick up in pace after he gives a dismissing gesture to the party.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac watches the approach and his brow furrow slightly as he spots the seemingly grumpy Fian draw near. "Well," he says to Brev with a very slight twitch of a grin. "Mayhap I'll wait a bit before speaking of some things, eh?" he asks. He shrugs off the pack he carries on his shoulder and lets it drop to the ground beside him.
[O'Neil(#19982)] Travelling alongside the man known as Olmys, is 'The Giant'. He is dressed in all greys and carries a massive maul hammer which rests against his shoulder. More hammers adorn this man but they are ones of construction rather than destruction and are all safely secured to a work belt. His expression is blank this day but his eyes are constantly dancing about, from one thing to another, attempting to be aware of all things around him at once.
As the smells of cooking reach his nostrils from the hold, his stomach growels causing him to speak, "I could sure go for some nicely cooked stag."
[Verge(#32426)]
Ambling its way through the thickets and plantlife near the the edge of the Caerdh woods, comes a muddied and wearied cloaked figure. Its back is slouched forward, and with its free hand outstretched, the approaching figure gropes its surroundings, brushing away any hanging vines or branches in its way. When the wayfarer lifts its gaze up off the ground, one may see the features of a young woman her cheeks soiled with dirt and mud, and her black hair looking like a stringy, greasy mess. Quite a pitiful sight. In her other hand, the traveller carries a medium-sized sack filled with who knows what. The young woman, as she steps out into the clearing many yards away from the newly arrived group, occasionally sways from one side to the other as she tries to regain her balance. Perhaps she had gotten lost on her way to the village?
Ciaran is draws closer and his words drift along the wind. ".. if you had done as you were told, you wouldn't need extra time to get the field prepared, it would be -done-. Stop bothering me and go get it finished, Sarmin! I don't care if the Kiern-damned King of Dunland walks into the village, if that field isn't cleared by tomorrow afternoon I'm going to let Cailean take you with them to use as bait for the orcs!" The Fian snaps at the man at glares at him until the farmer finally runs off to do as ordered.
Ranich turn his attention to the arrival of the scouting party now and doesn't quite manage a smile, but nods in greeting as they approach. "Uncle. It's good to see you back!"
Breveg lets out a snorted breath, and remarks mildly to Caileann, "You can hardly grudge them one night. It'll take that long to assemble the supplies. Anyway, I'll tell him." The 'him' in question is apparently not Ciaran, for he remains in place as the older man approaches the Fian, eyeing Ciaran's hand gestures uneasily.
"Aye," he answers Olmys in a murmur. "Not sure what got him so riled." The words of the 'giant' are met with a chuckle. "More likely salt mutton and barley broth, this time of year. Unless you're the one bringing in the stag?"
He turns his head again, and murmurs, as though to himself, "Wonder where that odd wo-" The question breaks off, as his gaze falls on that newly emerged figure. "Kiern, what a mess she looks, he comments aloud, and backs away from Olmys and the rest so that he can intercept the stumbling Verge, holding out a hand. "What happened? You all right?" Then, pointedly, "There /is/ a path."
Caileann offers a low, almost humourless laugh as Breveg speaks. "Maybe so. Either way, any of them that /over/indulge are going to find themselves as shields." The disheveled woman's reappearance gets a sharp turn of the head in her direction, but the bemused Cailean will just stare for a moment until his nephew's voice seizes his attention.
"Only briefly, if there is any luck. Breveg's knowledge of the wilds has proven to live up to his claims... Moreso than we imagined, even." He flicks his head back slightly in the party's direction, offering "Strangers who would speak with you. Barseg's son vouches for them."
[O'Neil(#19982)] The words of Olmys cause O'Neil to chuckle. "Still beats eating oats I guess......" The huge man then turns to watch as the swaying woman makes her way out of the wood. "Some people..." O'Neil then begins to shake his head from side to side as if in disappointment.
Turning back to face the other men he then inquires. "Have we actually had any sightings yet?"
[Carac(#32384)] Carac turns towards the newly arrived woman as well and gives Brev a nod of agreement as to her state. "Should point her back towards the fall," he half whispers to his friend. "Looks like she could use a bath more than a path."
He turns his attention twoards the meeting of Uncle and Fian then, watching and attempting to assess the mood. After a moment he turns towards O'neil and chuckles. "I would think oats with agree with you," he says to the large smith. "Since you're the size of an ox, I figure you must eat like one."
[Ciaran(#23897)] "Good news. I'm glad that the expedition is working out." Ciaran responds, breaking a smile now as his closes with Caileann. He reaches to give his uncle a brief hug of affection, speaking in a low undertone, "I admit, I worried that this plan might meet with disaster." Then the fian asks. "Strangers? What do they wish to speak about?" He asks, turning to gaze at the newcomers that joined with the orc-hunting group.
Breveg, preoccupied as he is, nevertheless looks back to his companions of a moment ago and gives a shake of the head - though whether it is for Olmys, or for O'Neil's question of earlier, who can say?
Looking to Ciaran, he inclines his head politely, and murmurs a muted "Fian," that may or may not be snatched away by the breeze.
[Verge(#32426)]
Verge seems to be too distraught to take in all the sounds and smells of the village, so whatever the group up ahead may be speaking of goes right over her head. The Fian's shouts are loud enough to break through the haze that Verge seems to be in, and she straightens herself, breaking a fall by placing her left foot behind the other. "Oh... it's you again," Verge speaks. "After ya'd let me go off by myself, I must've taken a wrong turn. I've been wanderin' the forest for -hours-. Must've taken a whole extra day to get here." The woman does not make any motions to try and grasp the man's extended hand she merely steps forward, lowering her gaze back down to the ground as she lifts a hand to brush away any strewn hair falling over her face. "I thought you'd told me to head -eastwards-, not -southwards-," she adds, with a hint of annoyance in her tone. "Oh, ugh, I'm a horrible mess. I slipped and fell into some mud a ways back," she briefly explains, in a bit more hushed tone. Carac's comments are within earshot, anyway.
Caileann clasps the young Fian to himself for a moment, the hint of a smile on his face as he replies "Surely you had more faith in us than that." The questions about the newcomers seems to signal a return to the usual grim-faced old man, and he pauses for a moment, as if looking for words.
"I do not exactly know. The hunter there... Olmys, I am told is his name." He'll give a nod when he sees the man looking over at them, before turning back to Ciaran. "He wishes to speak on the behalf of a young lady. Breveg came across him in our journey, and they seem to know each other." Cailean offers a shrug. "Shall I call him over?"
[Carac(#32384)] When Carac notices the eyes of the Fian upon him he takes a deep breath and steps forward. "Fian," he greets. "I've come from the north and have news concerning the rumors about Mathain and the Hawk," he says without preamble.
"I've also brung furs and skins to trade for any supplies you may have to spare," he then motions towards O'neil. "My companion has skill with hammer and anvil and will offer this in trade as well."
Breveg frowns at Verge's actions as much as her explanation. "You were out in the forest alone, I hardly thought you needed a minder," he snaps. "Didn't you see the path?" And then, lower-voiced, "Kiern, woman, you'll sell no furs looking like that. There's something ... not quite right about you. What is it?" Brows lowered, he glances down at the extended hand that was seemingly spurned, shrugs and makes a grab for the young woman's shoulder.
The words of 'Olmys' drift toward him on the wind, and he stiffens, clearly attentive.
Ciaran will nod greetings to the other men as they all arrive, including Breveg should he catch his eye. Then he looks back to the hunter. "Good day, Olmys. I am Fian Ciaran Ranich." He gestures the man over as the Fian breaks away from the group of people, moving to a clear area. To Caileann he speaks, "A young lady? That woman there with Breveg?" He asks.
[O'Neil(#19982)] The 'Giant' has been listening carefully as the men around him discuss recent matters. When Olmys mentions his skill at smithing, he nods though and finally speaks, "You will not be disappointed by my work. I believe I will go for a bit of a walk and then see if I can find this smithy of yours." Nodding to his companion Olmys, he turns and begins to walk off down towards the village.
Caileann looks back at the woman, mouth opening, but he pauses for a moment, just staring at her. It's quite obvious he doesn't know what to make of her, and would rather not consider her at all. "I... Do not think so, Fian. I was led to believe that she was younger still." Cailean will shake his head, taking his eyes off the strange woman to watch the 'giant' trod off with an arched eyebrow. What a group.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac moves towards Ciaran when beckoned over, geturing for his companions to remain. His first words are directed not towards Ciaran, however, but towards the uncle and Breveg. "I must ask your pardon," he says. "I have misled you both. In fact Olmys is not my name, but I dared not give you my true name. I wished to deliver my message to the Fian in person."
He then turns towards his attention towards Ciaran. "In truth, I am Carac Bryntadd, son of I'racil and a representative of those who do in fact now gather near the ruins of Mathain."
[Verge(#32426)]
"Well, no.. it was raining, and the path was muddied I couldn't see it. I'm alright." Verge then proceeds to step away from Brev and towards the sound of the group further into the village, but is held back by Brev's grasp on her shoulder. "Oh, alright." She turns herself around to face the man, keeping her gaze cast downward. Lowering her voice considerably, she admits, "I'm blind. I thought you'd figured it already. It's sort of obvious." A slight blush appears on her cheeks upon hearing the Fian's words concerning her. "Oh, what did you tell them about me?!"
"What?" Having suceeded in getting a grasp of Verge's shoulder, Breveg's grip tightens briefly, then relaxes to no more than a gentle pressure. "No, I didn't know. That explains some things ... hmm."
Turning from the young woman, He hails a girl passing with a basket, a child of ten summers or so with a pair of brown pigtails "Aine?" he calls, his tone kindly. "The lass here stumbled, and is a little disoriented. Can you show her where it is the women wash? I'd offer to help, but ..." He winks, the sides of his mouth pulling up in a half-grin. The girl nods obligingly, and reaches out a hand to tug at Verge. "This way."
Which leaves Breveg free to spin round as Carac's words fade, apparent shock writ across his features.
Ciaran looks the traveler over with casual interest as he approaches, but when the man begins to speak the expression of curiosity hardens and he looks sharply to his uncle for a moment with a flicker of alarm. Then the young Fian looks back and speaks, "The rebel, Carac! You lead the Hawk." His brows draw together and he speaks in a commanding tone to the those from the hunting party that still linger. "Sieze this man. And detain his companions!"
[Caileann(#20237)] "Devil!" Cailean's hands dart for his spear as he moves to put himself between the rebel leader and his nephew - emotion flaring across his face in a fierce glare, he more snarls than speaks. "What treachery is this?! I don't know why you've come here, Hawk, but you will find no friend in Fearachas!"
[Carac(#32384)] Carac frowns at the response his words receive, but makes no move to attack or otherwise. "Take my weapons if you feel it necessary," he states. "I have not come as an invader or to threaten. I come only to say that those in Mathain, wish you know harm, nor do they pose a threat to you as long as none is given them."
He then gives a soft sigh. "I am no rebel," he adds then. "I wish only to see my land and my people in peace. The fighting amongst the Wulf and Bear, the rallying of Stag's army in Forthunn. All of this is caused by lack of land and resources, there is land west of Mathain that can be settled if the shield of the Hawk were to return. We wish nothing more than to return to our homelands, we have no desire for the rest of Caerdh or for revenge as the rumors say. Only to be allowed to return to what is rightfully ours."
Breveg stoops to his boot, and straightens holding a dagger, slightly smaller than the one at his hip. Should any get the opportunity to examine it later they deduce from its balance that it was originally made for a woman's hand. His encounter with Verge has separated him off from the rest of the group, so that he stands alone ... and there he remains, hefting the lighter dagger doubtfully as though he did not trust it to find the correct target. The Fian, after all, is awfully close to the self-proclaimed Hawk.
Ciaran gestures the men that responded to his command to go ahead and relieve Carac of his weapons. The Fian reaches forward to rest a hand on Cailean's arm as his uncle moves before him. "Let us speak somewhere else upon this." Ciaran says in a level voice. He addresses the guards, "Take the woman, track down that smith, move them to my brother's home and take up guard there. Let her get cleaned up, but do not let them leave."
Ranich looks back to Carac, studying him for a long time, "Caileann, let's speak with Carac in your home. This is not a conversation to take lightly, nor in haste. You and Breveg can bring him."
[Caileann(#20237)] For a moment, it seems as though the uncle is going to ignore Ciaran, his livid expression a stark contrast to Ciaran's evenness. "My Fian, you wish to /talk/ with this man? To invite him into your town?" He falls silent for a moment then, eyes frozen on the man.
With a great sigh, Cailean will step aside - if only a bit. "You /are/ Fian, after all. It will be done as you say, though it is a far sight more than I would give one with his history."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac, on the outside at least, does not show any signs of fear or feeling threatened. When the spear is pulled back he gives Caileann a nod of thanks. "You will lead the way?" he asks him then. "And perhaps on the journey tell me what it is in my history that angers you so?"
Breveg's gaze flickers in the direction Verge had gone, and back again. Then, for the first time, he addresses Ciaran. "Fian, I doubt very much she's Hawk. She wasn't with them, and she's-" he pauses, frowning, then supplies with a snort, "not right in the head. Can't some of the women watch her? Putting her with -them- might drive out what wits she has left."
Even as the plea is made, he obediently moves toward Carac, the little dagger remaining in his hand. "That way," he states curtly, gesturing with the dagger-blade, before he falls into step at the rear of the little group.
[Ciaran(#23897)] "She'll be well enough with my brother and the guards. We do not mistreat people here." Ciaran states, eying Breveg for a long moment with a searching expression. Then he dismisses whatever concern gripped him and moves to begin walking to his uncle's home.
Caileann glances between Breveg and Ciaran for a moment, watching his nephew's reaction. When he says nothing, it appears to be good enough for Cailean, who merely motions with the tip of his spear, ignoring Carac's commentary for the time.
The house itself is simple and subdued in decoration. A bit small, but the four men can fit in fairly comfortably. Some carved wooden chairs surround a hearth - Cailean grabs one of these in one hand and carries it out towards the centre of the room, dropping down on the wood floor with a thud. "Have a seat. If you will. I'm sure we all await with baited breath your reason for being here." The older man will move towards the door to close it and lean against it, doing his best to return to an even voice when he says "Ciaran, I should hope that your aunt does forgive us for bringing people without warning."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac takes a seat as directed and looks up at the other three men and lifts his shoulders with a half shrug. "I have told you my reasons for being here," he states. "I come only to convey that those in Mathain have no ill intent towards the people of Ranich the people of Bear in general. They wish only to rebuild their home and to once again serve as the first line of defense in the north."
He looks about the room for a moment. "Might you have something to drink about?" he asks. "It has been a long journey and my throat is a bit dry."
[Ciaran(#23897)] "She is with my mother and Rianna tonight. They all fuss over Cavan too much." The Fian murmurs absently, watching Carac closely. "Why did you burn Kierkgard if you only seek peace and a home?" Ciaran asks, his eyes never leaving the Hawk. "Why come here and not approach the Ceann directly?"
As Caileann leans against the door, Breveg moves round the room to take up a position nearer the hearth, resuming the silence of earlier. The dagger is tucked back into his boot, for the moment. Ciaran it is whom he watches, one brow lifting in question, but he remains silent.
[Caileann(#20237)] "I'm sure there's water in the kitchen," the older man murmurs "but my Fian's questions here are some of my own, so I would like to hear your answer first." He does move away from the door and towards the kitchen, one hand remaining on his spear, and his eyes staying on the figure of Carac. "The burning of Kierkgard is of special interest to me."
[Carac(#32384)] "Had you been to Kierkgard recently?" Carac asks, looking from one face to the other. "Had you seen how its residents were treated? How the Guardians had stole everything, including their dignity from them? Forced to live in fear that would be thrown from the city and into the arms of the orc hordes they were told ravaged the lands outside the city walls? I only reminded the people of Kierkgard that they were not slaves to the Guardians, that if they could choose how they lived their own lives. If the Guardians had not tried to stop them from leaving there would have been no fighting and the city would not have burned."
He lifts a brow questioningly and looks from one face to another imploringly. "Would you have done anything less?" he asks. "Would I not be more of a criminal if I had turned my back and allowed the lies of the Guardians and the mistreatment of our people to continue?"
Ciaran listens, slowly crossing his arms as Carac explains his what his intentions were. "How does what happened in Kierkgard connect to what you desire now? Why come back to Mathain now, and not sooner?" The farmer asks, his tone more curious now as the harsh demeanor he displayed earlier is replaced with something more patient. "And you did not answer my other question about the Ceann."
Breveg sighs as he listens to the pattern of question and response. "We all seek peace," he murmurs. "It is just that we have different ways of achieving it. The true question is how those ways can best be reconciled." Then, perhaps regretting the speech, he falls silent to let Carac answer the Fian's latest queries.
[Caileann(#20237)] "Reconcile? /Reconcile/?" Cailean grunts, shaking his head. "And how exactly was it that you knew this man previously, Breveg?" The elder Ranich taps the butt of his spear on the floor now, eyeing his nephew's retainer warily. "Why would Carac, son of I'racil come to Ranich in the first place? Did he think he would find allies here?"
[Carac(#32384)] Carac gives a simple shrug of his shoulders in response to the first question that comes from Ciaran. "I suppose the words to people of Kierkgard reminded me of the same things," he answers. "The Hawk are tired of wandering. They wish only to settle down in their homeland once again. As for the Ceann? I was in Creatrach for the gathering when Gregoir was chosen, I was not able speak with the Ceann, but I know that he is Maulduin's grandson. Maulduin is trapped in the past and unable to look to the future," he says letting his gaze settle on Caileann. "He is too stubborn and prideful to listen to anything I say, I can only assume that his grandson's opinions have already been colored by Maulduin's beliefs."
He swallows in an attempt to relieve the dryness in his throat and speaks next to Caileann. "As I said, I was in Creatrach during the Gathering and I met Breveg there," he says. "Olmys was the name I used there and the one your young friend knew my by. I came here because at the gathering it seemed your Fian possessed more sense than the rest. All of whom were so much like . . . Maulduin."
Ciaran grows quiet, frowning. He looks to his uncle for a long time, then away to stare at nothing for an even greater length. The Fian sighs softly, running a hand through his hair. "This is complicated, what you seek. I cannot give you an answer right away. For now you will be an unwilling guest. As I said, we do not mistreat people here, but I will not let you leave until I decide, one way or the other." Ranich looks over to Brev. "Please go and collect Amos and Gerard." Two of the group that Ciaran originally took to Creatrach last fall.
"I met him in Creatrach," Breveg answers Caileann simply, letting Fian and Hawk leader carry on their own conversation. "When you and the Fian were busy with all those meetings, those of us left waiting occupied our time with competitions. Spear-throwing and the like. He ... he bested me." He scowls briefly at the ground at that admission, then his amber eyes return to Caileann. "And yes, reconcile. If any should hate the Hawk, it is I. Have you forgotten who they last rose against? Yet you do not hear me demanding a tribute in blood. That will not bring back the dead, nor will it drive the goblins from our borders. /That/ should remain our foremost goal."
At Ciaran's order, he straightens, his expression resigned, and moves toward the door. "Aye, Fian. Where will I find them?"
Caileann looks from Breveg to Carac, Carac to Ciaran, and back again for another moment, face clouding. Then, with a sudden jerk, he'll turn for the kitchen, free hand flying to his forehead and wiping down his face. "Never did I think I would be so glad for a Ceann who was kin to Ruadhri Maulduin, if that is the thinking of the Hawk. Never did I think I would see the day when the man who burnt down Kierkgard would come boldly into Fearachas seeking allies..." His voice trails off as he moves out of sight.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac gives Ciaran a nod and then turns to Caileann. "You too judge because of the past?" he asks. "Because I am a Hawk I am guilty of all the crimes committed by those who bore that title before me? Is that what you believe? Aye, Halen's mind was warped and his rebellion was a despicable deed, but most of those who followed him are in the grave or close to it. Yet, you will condemn those who follow because of their actions? Then should I condemn you for the actions of the Bear who siezed Redvyrne and committed atrocities there? They may have been Kedhern's men, but by your logic you are as guilty of the crimes since you are of the same clan."
Ciaran looks back as Cailean and Carac exchange words. When there is a break into silence he'll answer Brev's question. "In their homes. If you do not remember just ask someone... Thank you, Breveg." Does the Fian simply wish to remove Brev from the conversation? He turns his gaze back to Carac. "You know we would not welcome you with open arms, so let us try to keep the barbs of past deeds to a minimum." If anything the Fian looks as if he's simply unhappy that this situation has fallen into his lap. Of course, Ranich is rather known for staying out of things through history.
Breveg slips through the door, shutting it carefully behind him. Outside in the village there is clearly quite the gathering going on, for as he moves away his receding voice can be heard answering a bevy of questions: "Yes of course he's alive. He didn't struggle." ... "How should I know? Do I look like the Fian?" ... "Another jug of water, maybe?" ... "No, he wanted Amos and Gerard." ... "That way? Let me past, I'm in a hurry."
Caileann returns moments later, cup of water in hand. "Let him speak, Fian. Let him try to make Kedhern and Halen the same, and let him try to excuse the scourging of Kierkgard - that alone is enough to me, even if we choose not to look at Halen at all." He'll offer the cup to the Hawk leader with a nod. "The past is not something to be ignored lightly, for good or ill."
[Carac(#32384)] "Scourging of Kierkgard?" Carac demands. "The people who resided in Kierkgard have been led to new lands," he says. "Lands that will provide them with more than they were provided for inside the city. North Forthunn you will find near the ruins of Harthunn. Go and ask them if they have been done an injustice or if they have been freed. I tell you they have found a better life for themselves." He shakes his head then and chuckles.
"The Hawk are the ones looked upon as barbaric and ignorant, but you stand here and call me criminal for what? For freeing the people of Kierkgard from the enslavement of the Guardians and for the crimes commited by a man of my clan when I was but 10 years old?"
Ciaran looks back to his uncle, his face showing much confliction. "We should take the time to think this over, cool our heads." He speaks again, shaking his head. "I'm going to have Amos and Gerard move him somewhere secure. We can discuss tonight, us and Breveg." The fian looks back to Carac. "I will get you food, but I am going to instruct my men to use as much force as neccessary should you try anything."
[Caileann(#20237)] "As you wish, Fian... Gerard and Amos are good men. They will be vigilant." His tone has reverted to a peculiar flatness, and even as he speaks to his nephew, he continues to look at Carac, glancing up occassionally. "This will certainly make for interesting news. I suspect Fearachas will be quite busy tonight." For now at least, it seems like he's ignoring the man's statements.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac raises from his the chair and bows to the Fian of Ranich. "Thank you for your hospitality, Fian," he says. "I look forward to talking to you more in the nar future." He then turns towards Caileann and bows as well.
"And thank you for the water."
Players: Ciaran, Brev, Caileann, Carac, O'Neil, Verge
Located in: Dunlending
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