Elendor
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Brev catches up to the young boy and persuades him to return to the keep.
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Location: Dunland
Description: The boy didn't make it very far before he crawled under the thick boughs of a pine tree to escape the rain that's growing heavier. He's curled up into a ball, his knees pulled close to his chest and occasionally a soft sniffling sound escapes the created shelter.
[Brev(#30997)] The soft pitter-patter of raindrops hides the sound of footfalls as another approaches the boy's refuge. The man who had approached the youngster earlier watches in silence for a while, and then gives a soft sigh that might be mistaken for a breath of wind. He steps round and lifts the pine boughs. "All right, boy. Going to do this the easy way or the hard way?" His right hand is curled round his knife - force of habit - but he has not yet drawn it. What danger is there in a child, after all?
When the branches are pulled aside the boy jumps and scrambles back, reaching to grab up a large pinecone. (As if that will prove a good weapon) There are tear streaks down his face, but his expression is one of challenge. "I'm not going to let you take me back to be a slave!"
[Brev(#30997)] "Kiern! What would I want with a slave? There were none in Caerdh till Brodie and his ilk." The drawl of earlier has gone, replaced with sharp irritation. "Stay where you are." In a swift, fluid motion he reaches forward, trying to grasp the boy's shoulder with his outstretched left hand.
The boy blinks in confusion when Brev disagrees with his assumption, frowning at the implication that his father is the one that started it. When the man suddenly grabs his shoulder, the child tries to twist away, bashing haphazardly at him with the pinecone. "Let me go!"
[Brev(#30997)] Having succeeded in his grab, the man keeps a firm hold, ignoring the pinecone and its attentions. "And let you run? I don't think so." His right hand comes off the knife-hilt, and he reaches for the pine-cone-holding wrist. "Now, you can sit still, or I can tie you up if you like." He jerks his chin towards the unset snares still looped round one shoulder. "Which do you prefer?"
After he wrestles the pine cone away, Brodie's son grows still at the threat of being tied up. "No.. don't tie me up!" He says in a pleading voice. "I'll be good!" Is the boy honestly afraid or is he pretending?
[Brev(#30997)] "We'll see." The boy's captor lets his hand drop away from the youngster's wrist once the pine-cone is dropped he keeps his hold of the lad's shoulder, however. "So where's your Da, then? Think he values his son's life any?"
"He's.. he's gone away, fighting to make Caerdh stronger. He's going to come back and save mama from the dungeon, and kill those men that took her." The child says vehemently, obviously believing in his father that much. "My papa is the tallest and the strongest, he cares about me! He taught me to fight with a dagger, and how to punch someone."
[Brev(#30997)] "Make Caerdh stronger?" The man snorts. "Brodie has all but destroyed it." He regards the boy with undisguised contempt. "Lets hope you're right. Going to take you back to Creatrach, I think. Doubt Brodie cares about your mother - we all know how he treated women - but a son might be a different thing."
The rain has not abated, and drips are starting to come even through the thick pine boughs. "On your feet, now." He jerks roughly at the boy's shoulder as he rises from his own crouch.
"No! Not back there!" The boy protests, trying to twist away as Brev drags him up to his feet. "Mama told me to run! If I go back they'll get me. They were looking for papa's armor and they said they would make me a slave! Papa isn't there!"
[Brev(#30997)] "Boy, don't play me for a fool." The adult keeps his grip for now, but the cloth is rain-slippery, and he frowns. His right hand curls round the dagger-hilt once more, and he draws it, letting the youngster see the blade's glitter. "And if you don't go back, I'll get you. Fine choice, eh? There are no slaves in Creatrach, now. Prisoner, maybe, till your father's found. Know where he is?"
All at once the boy breaks into sobs, wet tears filling his eyes. "I don't know! I can't go back! They broke the door and mama told me to run and not to let them get me and they were angry and yelling. They said that she was going in a dungeon and they were going to sell us as slaves!" His rush of words is accompanied by more sobs as he cringes back away from the dagger. "I'll go give the fish back, I was just hungry! I don't know where my papa is.. he hasn't been home in a long time!"
[Brev(#30997)] "Forget the bloody fish! And stop the snivelling." The boy's captor sounds irritated, and he takes advantage of the lad's sobbing to adjust his grip. "No-one would want the likes of you for a slave. You need to go back to Creatrach, how else your Da find you? Got to hear where you are, doesn't he?"
When Brev tells him to stop crying, he obeys almost immediately, pressing his mouth closed and blinking the tears away. When presented with the perplexing question he shakes his head mutely, "I don't know.. mama didn't tell me what to do." There's a wavering to the boy's words, but he manages to keep from crying again.
[Brev(#30997)] If the man is surprised at the boy's sudden obedience, he does not let it show. "Live, most likely," he suggests, acidly. "What else would she want for you? Fortunately," he pauses, "or unfortunately, I also want you to live. So get walking. It's a long way back to the Keep."
"You won't let them make me a slave.. will you?" The child asks, looking over the man with an assessing gaze, trying to decide if he could successfully run away a second time around. His brown eyes settle on the knife again, fear in his gaze. Brodie's son doesn't make another escape attempt. Instead he does as he's told and starts walking again.
[Brev(#30997)] Rain falls steadily from a now-darkening sky. Here, perhaps only a mile or two from Creatrach, the forest boughs are weighed down by its assault. Beneath the trees, away from the path, there is movement, and as one gets closer one would glimpse the mismatched pair: man and boy, the former with his hand gripped tightly round the latter's shoulder. The man holds a knife in his other hand, at this moment being used for naught more than to hack at a bramble.
As they walk, the man lets out his breath in a sigh. "I told you before, there are no slaves in Creatrach. Only man I've met who treated other folk as less than dumb beasts was your father. So, if he's not there then you've no slavery to fear, eh?"
"Only the weak! My papa is strong and powerful. People that are weak are worthless." Clearly the child is repeating words that Brodie taught him. He's moving along at a reluctant pace, forcing Brev to pull him along often, but the child is moving. "What's your name?"
[Brev(#30997)] The man's bearded mouth stretches into a grin. "/You're/ weak." He marches on in silence for a few moments to let that sink in, then offers, "That old cripple might be the finest carver in all Caerdh. Or that girl with the falling fits might be the only one who can work that last barbed arrow-shard out of your flesh. Worthlessness is relative."
The other query is answered a little later, as an afterthought. "Got a few. For now, it's Maveg."
The boy lets his gaze fall at Brev's assessment, looking chagrinned. He sneaks a few peeks up at the knife again as if reconsidering his decision to obey. Ultimately he doesn't try anything and studies the ground. In a small voice he argues, "That's not what my papa says.." There's little strength to the words, and after a moment he says, "I'm hungry."
[Brev(#30997)] Best move faster then, hadn't you?" the man retorts, unsympathetically, frowning at the direction of the boy's glance.
"Boy, whatever your name is, if you want to survive to manhood you'd best stop listening to your father and start listening to the rest of the world." The forest is thinning out now, can't be too long till they reach Creatrach - though what in the world he intends to do with the boy, let alone how he intends to explain how dull-witted Maveg came by this prize, is hard to say.
The retort does little to increase the boy's pace. "It's Aeden.." He answers, looking up at Maveg with a wary glance. The advice is chewed upon for a long time and Aeden is clearly struggling to justify his answer, "Papa.. he said I would be Ceann if I'm strong, like him. People don't like him because they're afraid of him, and they're weak."
"What will you do if he is dead?"
[Brev(#30997)] "Keep looking for the body," the fellow who claimed the name Maveg mutters. He tugs his tiring charge on in silence for a while, then goads, "Didn't last long as Ceann, did he? Hate turns in on itself. A true leader balances strength with kindness, cares for his people as a craftsman cares for his tools, turns weaknesses into strengths ... I know a man like that, pity he doesn't realize it."
As the Keep draws nearer, he glances up at it then sighs. "Right. Take it nice'n easy. You'll be sayin' as how Maveg here lucked it an' found you sleepin', eh?" The drawl of earlier is back, his features already blank.
Aeden frowns, his small forehead wrinkled as he compares the words of Maveg to what his father has always told him. "I don't know. Papa never said anything like that." He finally admits, sounding more uncertain. "Who is the man you know?" The boy asks, curiosity for this benevolent leader that is being compared against Brodie.
When the keep materializes through the rain, Aeden comes to a dead stop as his fear returns fully. "Can I wait here? I don't want to go back. I won't run, I promise."
[Brev(#30997)] The man shakes his head. "Need you in there. Not out here. It's safer that way." For who, he doesn't say.
"Might be you'll be headin' out again later. On a huntin' trip, maybe. You like that?" The drawl holds a wheedling note. How that would be achieved, the man also doesn't say.
Aeden releases a shaky sounding breath he was holding, but begins moving again. At the mention of hunting the child perks up rather quickly. "Yeah! My papa has taken me hunting before.. for boar! I couldn't catch one, but I got to watch from a tree." If Maveg lets him, the boy will tell the tale in it's entirety, and the topic change keeps him well distracted until they reach the gate of the keep.
[Brev(#30997)] The soft pitter-patter of raindrops hides the sound of footfalls as another approaches the boy's refuge. The man who had approached the youngster earlier watches in silence for a while, and then gives a soft sigh that might be mistaken for a breath of wind. He steps round and lifts the pine boughs. "All right, boy. Going to do this the easy way or the hard way?" His right hand is curled round his knife - force of habit - but he has not yet drawn it. What danger is there in a child, after all?
When the branches are pulled aside the boy jumps and scrambles back, reaching to grab up a large pinecone. (As if that will prove a good weapon) There are tear streaks down his face, but his expression is one of challenge. "I'm not going to let you take me back to be a slave!"
[Brev(#30997)] "Kiern! What would I want with a slave? There were none in Caerdh till Brodie and his ilk." The drawl of earlier has gone, replaced with sharp irritation. "Stay where you are." In a swift, fluid motion he reaches forward, trying to grasp the boy's shoulder with his outstretched left hand.
The boy blinks in confusion when Brev disagrees with his assumption, frowning at the implication that his father is the one that started it. When the man suddenly grabs his shoulder, the child tries to twist away, bashing haphazardly at him with the pinecone. "Let me go!"
[Brev(#30997)] Having succeeded in his grab, the man keeps a firm hold, ignoring the pinecone and its attentions. "And let you run? I don't think so." His right hand comes off the knife-hilt, and he reaches for the pine-cone-holding wrist. "Now, you can sit still, or I can tie you up if you like." He jerks his chin towards the unset snares still looped round one shoulder. "Which do you prefer?"
After he wrestles the pine cone away, Brodie's son grows still at the threat of being tied up. "No.. don't tie me up!" He says in a pleading voice. "I'll be good!" Is the boy honestly afraid or is he pretending?
[Brev(#30997)] "We'll see." The boy's captor lets his hand drop away from the youngster's wrist once the pine-cone is dropped he keeps his hold of the lad's shoulder, however. "So where's your Da, then? Think he values his son's life any?"
"He's.. he's gone away, fighting to make Caerdh stronger. He's going to come back and save mama from the dungeon, and kill those men that took her." The child says vehemently, obviously believing in his father that much. "My papa is the tallest and the strongest, he cares about me! He taught me to fight with a dagger, and how to punch someone."
[Brev(#30997)] "Make Caerdh stronger?" The man snorts. "Brodie has all but destroyed it." He regards the boy with undisguised contempt. "Lets hope you're right. Going to take you back to Creatrach, I think. Doubt Brodie cares about your mother - we all know how he treated women - but a son might be a different thing."
The rain has not abated, and drips are starting to come even through the thick pine boughs. "On your feet, now." He jerks roughly at the boy's shoulder as he rises from his own crouch.
"No! Not back there!" The boy protests, trying to twist away as Brev drags him up to his feet. "Mama told me to run! If I go back they'll get me. They were looking for papa's armor and they said they would make me a slave! Papa isn't there!"
[Brev(#30997)] "Boy, don't play me for a fool." The adult keeps his grip for now, but the cloth is rain-slippery, and he frowns. His right hand curls round the dagger-hilt once more, and he draws it, letting the youngster see the blade's glitter. "And if you don't go back, I'll get you. Fine choice, eh? There are no slaves in Creatrach, now. Prisoner, maybe, till your father's found. Know where he is?"
All at once the boy breaks into sobs, wet tears filling his eyes. "I don't know! I can't go back! They broke the door and mama told me to run and not to let them get me and they were angry and yelling. They said that she was going in a dungeon and they were going to sell us as slaves!" His rush of words is accompanied by more sobs as he cringes back away from the dagger. "I'll go give the fish back, I was just hungry! I don't know where my papa is.. he hasn't been home in a long time!"
[Brev(#30997)] "Forget the bloody fish! And stop the snivelling." The boy's captor sounds irritated, and he takes advantage of the lad's sobbing to adjust his grip. "No-one would want the likes of you for a slave. You need to go back to Creatrach, how else your Da find you? Got to hear where you are, doesn't he?"
When Brev tells him to stop crying, he obeys almost immediately, pressing his mouth closed and blinking the tears away. When presented with the perplexing question he shakes his head mutely, "I don't know.. mama didn't tell me what to do." There's a wavering to the boy's words, but he manages to keep from crying again.
[Brev(#30997)] If the man is surprised at the boy's sudden obedience, he does not let it show. "Live, most likely," he suggests, acidly. "What else would she want for you? Fortunately," he pauses, "or unfortunately, I also want you to live. So get walking. It's a long way back to the Keep."
"You won't let them make me a slave.. will you?" The child asks, looking over the man with an assessing gaze, trying to decide if he could successfully run away a second time around. His brown eyes settle on the knife again, fear in his gaze. Brodie's son doesn't make another escape attempt. Instead he does as he's told and starts walking again.
[Brev(#30997)] Rain falls steadily from a now-darkening sky. Here, perhaps only a mile or two from Creatrach, the forest boughs are weighed down by its assault. Beneath the trees, away from the path, there is movement, and as one gets closer one would glimpse the mismatched pair: man and boy, the former with his hand gripped tightly round the latter's shoulder. The man holds a knife in his other hand, at this moment being used for naught more than to hack at a bramble.
As they walk, the man lets out his breath in a sigh. "I told you before, there are no slaves in Creatrach. Only man I've met who treated other folk as less than dumb beasts was your father. So, if he's not there then you've no slavery to fear, eh?"
"Only the weak! My papa is strong and powerful. People that are weak are worthless." Clearly the child is repeating words that Brodie taught him. He's moving along at a reluctant pace, forcing Brev to pull him along often, but the child is moving. "What's your name?"
[Brev(#30997)] The man's bearded mouth stretches into a grin. "/You're/ weak." He marches on in silence for a few moments to let that sink in, then offers, "That old cripple might be the finest carver in all Caerdh. Or that girl with the falling fits might be the only one who can work that last barbed arrow-shard out of your flesh. Worthlessness is relative."
The other query is answered a little later, as an afterthought. "Got a few. For now, it's Maveg."
The boy lets his gaze fall at Brev's assessment, looking chagrinned. He sneaks a few peeks up at the knife again as if reconsidering his decision to obey. Ultimately he doesn't try anything and studies the ground. In a small voice he argues, "That's not what my papa says.." There's little strength to the words, and after a moment he says, "I'm hungry."
[Brev(#30997)] Best move faster then, hadn't you?" the man retorts, unsympathetically, frowning at the direction of the boy's glance.
"Boy, whatever your name is, if you want to survive to manhood you'd best stop listening to your father and start listening to the rest of the world." The forest is thinning out now, can't be too long till they reach Creatrach - though what in the world he intends to do with the boy, let alone how he intends to explain how dull-witted Maveg came by this prize, is hard to say.
The retort does little to increase the boy's pace. "It's Aeden.." He answers, looking up at Maveg with a wary glance. The advice is chewed upon for a long time and Aeden is clearly struggling to justify his answer, "Papa.. he said I would be Ceann if I'm strong, like him. People don't like him because they're afraid of him, and they're weak."
"What will you do if he is dead?"
[Brev(#30997)] "Keep looking for the body," the fellow who claimed the name Maveg mutters. He tugs his tiring charge on in silence for a while, then goads, "Didn't last long as Ceann, did he? Hate turns in on itself. A true leader balances strength with kindness, cares for his people as a craftsman cares for his tools, turns weaknesses into strengths ... I know a man like that, pity he doesn't realize it."
As the Keep draws nearer, he glances up at it then sighs. "Right. Take it nice'n easy. You'll be sayin' as how Maveg here lucked it an' found you sleepin', eh?" The drawl of earlier is back, his features already blank.
Aeden frowns, his small forehead wrinkled as he compares the words of Maveg to what his father has always told him. "I don't know. Papa never said anything like that." He finally admits, sounding more uncertain. "Who is the man you know?" The boy asks, curiosity for this benevolent leader that is being compared against Brodie.
When the keep materializes through the rain, Aeden comes to a dead stop as his fear returns fully. "Can I wait here? I don't want to go back. I won't run, I promise."
[Brev(#30997)] The man shakes his head. "Need you in there. Not out here. It's safer that way." For who, he doesn't say.
"Might be you'll be headin' out again later. On a huntin' trip, maybe. You like that?" The drawl holds a wheedling note. How that would be achieved, the man also doesn't say.
Aeden releases a shaky sounding breath he was holding, but begins moving again. At the mention of hunting the child perks up rather quickly. "Yeah! My papa has taken me hunting before.. for boar! I couldn't catch one, but I got to watch from a tree." If Maveg lets him, the boy will tell the tale in it's entirety, and the topic change keeps him well distracted until they reach the gate of the keep.
Players: Brev, Aeden
Located in: Dunlending
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