Elendor
Meet the family ...
Brev tries to talk his way in to a place in Saraid's 'family', despite her best efforts
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Cardolan: Defile near the Road
Game Date: September 3048
IC Time: Evening
Description: Cardolan: Defile near the Road
This shallow, gentle dale between the raised surface of the Greenway and the Cardolan highlands to the west resembles nothing so much as a bowl filled with short, scrublike grass. Like much of Enedhwaith, trees are rare here a small stand of birches near the base of the hill is all the foliage present.
What seems to be a faint path or track winds upwards, along the slope of the hill westward a high mount, at its peak there appear to be skeletal formations of stone. Ruins, reaching toward the sky?
Obvious exits:
East leads to Greenway - North.
Southwest up the Hill leads to Cardolan: A Barren Hilltop.
===============================================================================
Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Mon Dec 14 14:32:36 2009
IC weather is: Wind: fresh - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Evening
IC date is: Hevensday, Day 7 of September in the year 3048.
===============================================================================
Dusk is come, and here, in the shadow of the Cardolan hills, the light is starting to fade. The sun is sinking into a band of tattered cloud, bathing the western sky in glorious hues of crimson and purple. The skyline rises to a peak and there, silhouetted against the sun's bloated disc, is a single slim tower of black, pointing skyward like some giant finger.
For the travellers from the north, sundown means that a suitable camp must be sought, and near the road there is nothing to conceal one from prying eyes. Here at least a stand of birches promises a little shelter, perhaps enough to risk a fire. It is toward that Brev moves now, scouting out the path ahead. He moves slowly, the spear in his hand used as nothing more than a walking-staff to aid his balance where the dale-slope steepens. Gidon and Owain are nowhere in sight likely they are still back at the Greenway.
[Saraid(#16811)]
Behind Brev there comes an arrow. High, the fletching of it is bathed in crimson and then purple as it falls. It comes close to the traveller, close enough that Brev might feel the air of it, know the whistle as it passes, but it is overshot and would not pierce him.
The archer is a stocky man behind him, who curses now, but others come down the hillsides toward Brev, some bearing spears, some axes, and some now pulling back the strings on their bows.
Brev is unpleasantly familiar with the whine of an arrow's passage. His reaction is to drop instantly, rolling so that the unevenness of the ground will bring him a little protection. The light is fading, and the grey of his cloak is not so different from the grey-green of the grasses around him - but it is not enough.
Before he can turn to face the archer, others have crested the hill, their intent clearly not one of friendship. He scowls and rises back to a crouch, spear shifted to his left hand whilst his right fumbles at his belt. "I see this place doesn't welcome travellers." The words are spoken drily, in Common.
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Wait, stop!" calls a man's voice to the left in Dunael. This one is grey and wiry. "Shoot him only if he runs." They all lope down the hills and toward Brev. The arrows are still fit to strings, but none are released just now. There's a bit of an opening to the west now, but other than that the circle closes.
There's a faint call from the roadway, a high voice. Saraid is running fast toward the group, spear in hand. As she nears, her shouts can be heard. "Stop! Wait!"
Brev's brows arch at the sound of Dunael. He responds in the same tongue, the words slow and measured. "Now why would I do that? I'm rather partial to my gut as it is, thank you." He stands slowly, and actually starts to move forward, heading further away from the road. The spear is still in his left hand, but he does not use it as anything other than a walking staff its tip is kept pointed skyward, in as unthreatening a fashion as possible. "Is there a problem? I was only looking for a bed for the night."
It is than that Saraid's voice comes from behind him. He stiffens, and mutters softly, "Kiern." So much for playing the lone traveller ...
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Alone, are you?" says the older man, but half of the group (there are about eight of them) are turning to look at the newcomer. The stocky man who first shot at Brev has is back to him. "Saraid! Look, Saraid is back."
"Yes, and I brought back this one with me, so don't touch him," Saraid answers, loping closer and then walking toward Brev, through the others. "I found him. He's mine."
Brev's features harden at Saraid's words. He keeps his back to her, focusing instead on the older man who appears to be the leader. "Not alone enough, it seems." The Dunael is wry, and still calm - none are quite near enough to see the beads of sweat on his forehead. "I gather you've already met my travelling companion? Journeyed down from Bree together, figured two was better than one." He pauses. "Is there a reason there's half a dozen arrows pointed at me? A lone man's hardly a threat."
To Saraid's words he tosses back over his shoulder, "These folks likely have their own opinions on that." Perhaps he's trying to rile her enough to distract her from mention of Gidon and Owain.
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Yours?" The older man Brev was speaking to gives a wry smile to Saraid.
Saraid closes the gap and reaches out to lay a hand on Brev's shoulder, if he will allow it. "Come on, arrows away, you idiots, trying to pierce holes into everything you want and leaving me to mend them."
She looks back to the man in front of Brev as bows and arrows are being stowed away. "Where are we staying?" She hasn't looked at Brev.
Brev does not allow it. He twitches his shoulder roughly out of Saraid's grasp addresses his next words to the older man. "I'd beg to differ on that one. Generally I work for folk who've use for me." He pauses, steps to the side so that he can view both woman and older man out of the corner of his eye. "Which returns me to the question - what were you wanting with me? You know I don't carry gold," his head is turned slightly now so that he can address Saraid, "and if you're such a fine healer you're hardly looking for someone to patch folk up. Hmm."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid sighs as Brev steps away from her touch. She looks at him when he turns toward her, her gaze sharp and quick on his face.
"What do you want with him?" asks the older man. The rest stand around gawking as folk are wont to do when there isn't better entertainment around.
"I've kept him this long and I like him, Dineg," Saraid answers. "I want to keep him a bit more. If he doesn't want to be kept, fine, but let's bind him and move on before it gets too dark to see."
Brev flick a glance toward Saraid. "You're the leader of these men, then?" There is something in that calm demeanour that is almost provocative. "There's a couple of matters the leader of this group and I should really discuss. And there's no need for the binding. I think you'll find that I cooperate better when I'm /not/ threatened." His right hand comes out from beneath his cloak, palm up and it is empty. Whether it held anything previously is unknown.
[Saraid(#16811)]
Several voices laugh as Brev asks if Saraid is the leader of the men. Saraid's spear lowers and the sharp tip is casually pointed toward Brev. She is staring at him with eyes narrowed.
The heavyset man from behind comes up and tousles Saraid's curls with his thick hand. "Little Saraid, the leader? No, my lad, but you'd best give her what she wants, if she hasn't had it already." His hand disappears behind her and, though her face is entirely toward Brev still, she bares her teeth. "Let's move though. Go on!" He points up the hill, to the southwest. "If you have something to say to me, say it as you walk."
Brev eyes the spear-tip. His left hand twitches, but he refrains from lowering his own spear to strike Saraid's away. "I'd watch what you're doing with that spear. Wouldn't want to damage a useful tool now, would we?"
At the speech of thea heavy-set man, the first he has heard from this one, he forces a chuckle. "Looks like there's plenty of others to do that." As he obediently points his footsteps southwest, his skyward-pointing spear still in his left hand (after all, none has taken it from him), he continues pleasantly (and who knows what effort that costs him?), "Still a little confused about who's in charge here. Is it you?"
[Saraid(#16811)]
"You might say that," says the man in a deep voice. "What do you have to say?" His face has a few slicing scars which have darkened with healing. He keeps Saraid between himself and Brev, and Saraid walks, too, staring at Brev so hard that she might trip over something.
The others begin to move around them, more in the back than in the front, and none within Brev's easy reach.
Brev is hardly so stupid as to start a fight that's one-on-eight. Even had it been two-on-eight he'd likely not have tried it. At the stocky man's response he turns to look at the fellow over Saraid's head. "I'm offering my services. For a start, I can patch up things - buildings, men. Then, once we're better acquainted, maybe I can offer you something else - targets. Must be hard to find food out here in the lone-lands."
Saraid's look receives no comment - indeed, he can read nothing in it - but his gaze flicks back to the fellow behind and his eyes narrow slightly, in thought or perhaps suspicion. He warns the woman suddenly, "Careful there, there's a rock."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid glances down, steps over a stone, and watches Brev now from the corner of her eye rather than straight on. She starts walking a bit faster and the man beside her, whose name is Varens, steps a touch faster after a moment, too.
"Good, good," says the man with a nod. "Good that you're useful. Because," he laughs, "you were dead back there and you're only walking right now because Saraid asked us to stop. She's family, sure," he laughs again, reaching for her hair and tugging a curl. "But if you give us a fuss or become lazy, you're dead again."
Brev watches Saraid's movements thoughtfully. He arches an eyebrow at the heavy-set Varens' words. "Kiern, you're lucky she saved you from making a mistake. Dead men aren't useful at all. Quite regrettable, that. They can't speak, can't work, can't fight ..." It is chill now that the sun is dimming, and the rising breeze lifts the sweat from his brow. There is nothing to suggest that he is anything but completely calm at the threats.
[Saraid(#16811)]
This makes Varens laugh even harder. As he laughs, Saraid says, "Brev, did you catch anything you can add to supper tonight? It would go a long way to helping." Her tone is very friendly and familiar toward him-- not a tone that she has ever used. Her eyes go to his face again, soft and fond. "You see? This is why I wanted to keep him." She even sounds affectionate.
This makes Varens laugh even more. "You can keep him for now, lass. We might still need to tie him up tonight."
Brev halts, turns, showing his empty right hand, his spear-bearing left. "Afraid I didn't get the chance." His tone to Saraid is not in the least affectionate - hard, rather. Cold. "Might be I could add to breakfast though. I can set a snare or two. There's a rabbit run over yonder." He jerks his head. "If you want. You're the boss." His gaze turns full on Varens at those words. Then he snorts. "Don't tell me my duties include bed-warming. There's plenty of others to do that."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid stops as well, her eyes turned to fury at Brev. There's a low whistle to one side, and a laugh from another. "Brev, you -idiot,-" says the lady in question with a great measure of disgust. "Do you want to start this? Do you?" She lifts her spear, trying to bring the point within a handspan of Brev's throat.
Varens grins over her head at Brev. "Shall we kill him after all then? I must tell you that we'd eat as well with you or without you, and we'd be better off without you."
Something snaps in Brev, then. "Fine. If that's how you want it." Saraid's move is not completed, for his empty right hand whips to join his left on the smooth shaft of his spear, which is brought to bear in a fluid blocking motion. "If you want to lose these men two fighters for nothing but personal pride, go right ahead." He gives the small woman a mocking grin. "And you'll need me after we're done," he tosses back over his shoulder at Varens. "Figure you might be short a healer and fighter."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid just gives a tilted smile and steps fluidly sideways in the shadows. "Did you think I was going to fight you, my lad?" she asks in a teasing voice. "Don't kill him. Take his spear." The arrows are back on the bowstrings and pointed at Brev. "Let me talk to him alone. I can sort him out."
"Talk to him alone?" Varens says incredulously. "Saraid, you've gone soft! Best to have him gone!"
"Give me this," Saraid answers Varens, still looking at Brev. "I'll kill him myself if I need to. And you know I can run."
Brev does not lower his spear. "Fine then." He glances round at the bowstrings, then challenges into the half-dark. "Who's first to take my spear?" His gaze comes full circle to rest on Varens. "Choose whom you will. You'll want to see if I can fight, after all." There is even a ripple of amusement in his voice at those words. "That is, if I'm speaking to the leader here." Is that a dig at Saraid? He is poised on the balls of his feet, ready for motion the bowstrings that cannot be fought and won are ignored.
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Brev, can you just stop talking?" Saraid says desperately, her spear still before her.
"Enough." Varens pulls Saraid back and she doesn't resist him. He faces Brev with a large axe in his hand. "You're both being idiots. You," he points at Brev. "Don't talk to Saraid. Saraid," he jerks a thumb back at her. "Don't be alone with him. He's probably been using you. I'm sure you'll make him regret it at some point. But you can both stop NOW."
Saraid takes this moment to look east, back toward the road is. The older one in the group follows her glance and looks curiously that way too.
Brev faces Varens, and the stocky man is likely close enough to see the sweat trickling down his brow, whatever outward bravado he may display. There is something else in his amber eyes, though, a flicker of - excitement? It is long since life has come with such high risk. "Aye boss," he says dutifully, pulling his spear back to the upright position. He does not let go quite yet, no doubt wary that the axe will arc his way without warning.
He spares one single glance toward Saraid as she glances at the road, and his eyes narrow a little. Understandable, surely, given the tension?
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid looks back toward Brev just in time to see his narrow-eyed look and she glares back at him. "I've been using HIM," she says spitefully. "And he's been useful enough too, in some ways."
Varens nods at Brev. "Keep moving. I don't have time to sort things out but you can keep in mind that we've had Saraid since she was young and has uses that you don't. You understand this?"
Brev takes the implicit threat for what it is. "Yes," he says evenly at last, beginning to walk. Low-voiced, he adds, to the man with the axe at his back, "But perhaps I, too, have uses that she does not. A wise crafter keeps /all/ his tools sharp." With that he is moving on, with no more looks toward Saraid or the road. What fears lie in his mind born from the direction of her glance, who can say?
This shallow, gentle dale between the raised surface of the Greenway and the Cardolan highlands to the west resembles nothing so much as a bowl filled with short, scrublike grass. Like much of Enedhwaith, trees are rare here a small stand of birches near the base of the hill is all the foliage present.
What seems to be a faint path or track winds upwards, along the slope of the hill westward a high mount, at its peak there appear to be skeletal formations of stone. Ruins, reaching toward the sky?
Obvious exits:
East leads to Greenway - North.
Southwest up the Hill leads to Cardolan: A Barren Hilltop.
===============================================================================
Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Mon Dec 14 14:32:36 2009
IC weather is: Wind: fresh - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Evening
IC date is: Hevensday, Day 7 of September in the year 3048.
===============================================================================
Dusk is come, and here, in the shadow of the Cardolan hills, the light is starting to fade. The sun is sinking into a band of tattered cloud, bathing the western sky in glorious hues of crimson and purple. The skyline rises to a peak and there, silhouetted against the sun's bloated disc, is a single slim tower of black, pointing skyward like some giant finger.
For the travellers from the north, sundown means that a suitable camp must be sought, and near the road there is nothing to conceal one from prying eyes. Here at least a stand of birches promises a little shelter, perhaps enough to risk a fire. It is toward that Brev moves now, scouting out the path ahead. He moves slowly, the spear in his hand used as nothing more than a walking-staff to aid his balance where the dale-slope steepens. Gidon and Owain are nowhere in sight likely they are still back at the Greenway.
[Saraid(#16811)]
Behind Brev there comes an arrow. High, the fletching of it is bathed in crimson and then purple as it falls. It comes close to the traveller, close enough that Brev might feel the air of it, know the whistle as it passes, but it is overshot and would not pierce him.
The archer is a stocky man behind him, who curses now, but others come down the hillsides toward Brev, some bearing spears, some axes, and some now pulling back the strings on their bows.
Brev is unpleasantly familiar with the whine of an arrow's passage. His reaction is to drop instantly, rolling so that the unevenness of the ground will bring him a little protection. The light is fading, and the grey of his cloak is not so different from the grey-green of the grasses around him - but it is not enough.
Before he can turn to face the archer, others have crested the hill, their intent clearly not one of friendship. He scowls and rises back to a crouch, spear shifted to his left hand whilst his right fumbles at his belt. "I see this place doesn't welcome travellers." The words are spoken drily, in Common.
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Wait, stop!" calls a man's voice to the left in Dunael. This one is grey and wiry. "Shoot him only if he runs." They all lope down the hills and toward Brev. The arrows are still fit to strings, but none are released just now. There's a bit of an opening to the west now, but other than that the circle closes.
There's a faint call from the roadway, a high voice. Saraid is running fast toward the group, spear in hand. As she nears, her shouts can be heard. "Stop! Wait!"
Brev's brows arch at the sound of Dunael. He responds in the same tongue, the words slow and measured. "Now why would I do that? I'm rather partial to my gut as it is, thank you." He stands slowly, and actually starts to move forward, heading further away from the road. The spear is still in his left hand, but he does not use it as anything other than a walking staff its tip is kept pointed skyward, in as unthreatening a fashion as possible. "Is there a problem? I was only looking for a bed for the night."
It is than that Saraid's voice comes from behind him. He stiffens, and mutters softly, "Kiern." So much for playing the lone traveller ...
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Alone, are you?" says the older man, but half of the group (there are about eight of them) are turning to look at the newcomer. The stocky man who first shot at Brev has is back to him. "Saraid! Look, Saraid is back."
"Yes, and I brought back this one with me, so don't touch him," Saraid answers, loping closer and then walking toward Brev, through the others. "I found him. He's mine."
Brev's features harden at Saraid's words. He keeps his back to her, focusing instead on the older man who appears to be the leader. "Not alone enough, it seems." The Dunael is wry, and still calm - none are quite near enough to see the beads of sweat on his forehead. "I gather you've already met my travelling companion? Journeyed down from Bree together, figured two was better than one." He pauses. "Is there a reason there's half a dozen arrows pointed at me? A lone man's hardly a threat."
To Saraid's words he tosses back over his shoulder, "These folks likely have their own opinions on that." Perhaps he's trying to rile her enough to distract her from mention of Gidon and Owain.
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Yours?" The older man Brev was speaking to gives a wry smile to Saraid.
Saraid closes the gap and reaches out to lay a hand on Brev's shoulder, if he will allow it. "Come on, arrows away, you idiots, trying to pierce holes into everything you want and leaving me to mend them."
She looks back to the man in front of Brev as bows and arrows are being stowed away. "Where are we staying?" She hasn't looked at Brev.
Brev does not allow it. He twitches his shoulder roughly out of Saraid's grasp addresses his next words to the older man. "I'd beg to differ on that one. Generally I work for folk who've use for me." He pauses, steps to the side so that he can view both woman and older man out of the corner of his eye. "Which returns me to the question - what were you wanting with me? You know I don't carry gold," his head is turned slightly now so that he can address Saraid, "and if you're such a fine healer you're hardly looking for someone to patch folk up. Hmm."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid sighs as Brev steps away from her touch. She looks at him when he turns toward her, her gaze sharp and quick on his face.
"What do you want with him?" asks the older man. The rest stand around gawking as folk are wont to do when there isn't better entertainment around.
"I've kept him this long and I like him, Dineg," Saraid answers. "I want to keep him a bit more. If he doesn't want to be kept, fine, but let's bind him and move on before it gets too dark to see."
Brev flick a glance toward Saraid. "You're the leader of these men, then?" There is something in that calm demeanour that is almost provocative. "There's a couple of matters the leader of this group and I should really discuss. And there's no need for the binding. I think you'll find that I cooperate better when I'm /not/ threatened." His right hand comes out from beneath his cloak, palm up and it is empty. Whether it held anything previously is unknown.
[Saraid(#16811)]
Several voices laugh as Brev asks if Saraid is the leader of the men. Saraid's spear lowers and the sharp tip is casually pointed toward Brev. She is staring at him with eyes narrowed.
The heavyset man from behind comes up and tousles Saraid's curls with his thick hand. "Little Saraid, the leader? No, my lad, but you'd best give her what she wants, if she hasn't had it already." His hand disappears behind her and, though her face is entirely toward Brev still, she bares her teeth. "Let's move though. Go on!" He points up the hill, to the southwest. "If you have something to say to me, say it as you walk."
Brev eyes the spear-tip. His left hand twitches, but he refrains from lowering his own spear to strike Saraid's away. "I'd watch what you're doing with that spear. Wouldn't want to damage a useful tool now, would we?"
At the speech of thea heavy-set man, the first he has heard from this one, he forces a chuckle. "Looks like there's plenty of others to do that." As he obediently points his footsteps southwest, his skyward-pointing spear still in his left hand (after all, none has taken it from him), he continues pleasantly (and who knows what effort that costs him?), "Still a little confused about who's in charge here. Is it you?"
[Saraid(#16811)]
"You might say that," says the man in a deep voice. "What do you have to say?" His face has a few slicing scars which have darkened with healing. He keeps Saraid between himself and Brev, and Saraid walks, too, staring at Brev so hard that she might trip over something.
The others begin to move around them, more in the back than in the front, and none within Brev's easy reach.
Brev is hardly so stupid as to start a fight that's one-on-eight. Even had it been two-on-eight he'd likely not have tried it. At the stocky man's response he turns to look at the fellow over Saraid's head. "I'm offering my services. For a start, I can patch up things - buildings, men. Then, once we're better acquainted, maybe I can offer you something else - targets. Must be hard to find food out here in the lone-lands."
Saraid's look receives no comment - indeed, he can read nothing in it - but his gaze flicks back to the fellow behind and his eyes narrow slightly, in thought or perhaps suspicion. He warns the woman suddenly, "Careful there, there's a rock."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid glances down, steps over a stone, and watches Brev now from the corner of her eye rather than straight on. She starts walking a bit faster and the man beside her, whose name is Varens, steps a touch faster after a moment, too.
"Good, good," says the man with a nod. "Good that you're useful. Because," he laughs, "you were dead back there and you're only walking right now because Saraid asked us to stop. She's family, sure," he laughs again, reaching for her hair and tugging a curl. "But if you give us a fuss or become lazy, you're dead again."
Brev watches Saraid's movements thoughtfully. He arches an eyebrow at the heavy-set Varens' words. "Kiern, you're lucky she saved you from making a mistake. Dead men aren't useful at all. Quite regrettable, that. They can't speak, can't work, can't fight ..." It is chill now that the sun is dimming, and the rising breeze lifts the sweat from his brow. There is nothing to suggest that he is anything but completely calm at the threats.
[Saraid(#16811)]
This makes Varens laugh even harder. As he laughs, Saraid says, "Brev, did you catch anything you can add to supper tonight? It would go a long way to helping." Her tone is very friendly and familiar toward him-- not a tone that she has ever used. Her eyes go to his face again, soft and fond. "You see? This is why I wanted to keep him." She even sounds affectionate.
This makes Varens laugh even more. "You can keep him for now, lass. We might still need to tie him up tonight."
Brev halts, turns, showing his empty right hand, his spear-bearing left. "Afraid I didn't get the chance." His tone to Saraid is not in the least affectionate - hard, rather. Cold. "Might be I could add to breakfast though. I can set a snare or two. There's a rabbit run over yonder." He jerks his head. "If you want. You're the boss." His gaze turns full on Varens at those words. Then he snorts. "Don't tell me my duties include bed-warming. There's plenty of others to do that."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid stops as well, her eyes turned to fury at Brev. There's a low whistle to one side, and a laugh from another. "Brev, you -idiot,-" says the lady in question with a great measure of disgust. "Do you want to start this? Do you?" She lifts her spear, trying to bring the point within a handspan of Brev's throat.
Varens grins over her head at Brev. "Shall we kill him after all then? I must tell you that we'd eat as well with you or without you, and we'd be better off without you."
Something snaps in Brev, then. "Fine. If that's how you want it." Saraid's move is not completed, for his empty right hand whips to join his left on the smooth shaft of his spear, which is brought to bear in a fluid blocking motion. "If you want to lose these men two fighters for nothing but personal pride, go right ahead." He gives the small woman a mocking grin. "And you'll need me after we're done," he tosses back over his shoulder at Varens. "Figure you might be short a healer and fighter."
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid just gives a tilted smile and steps fluidly sideways in the shadows. "Did you think I was going to fight you, my lad?" she asks in a teasing voice. "Don't kill him. Take his spear." The arrows are back on the bowstrings and pointed at Brev. "Let me talk to him alone. I can sort him out."
"Talk to him alone?" Varens says incredulously. "Saraid, you've gone soft! Best to have him gone!"
"Give me this," Saraid answers Varens, still looking at Brev. "I'll kill him myself if I need to. And you know I can run."
Brev does not lower his spear. "Fine then." He glances round at the bowstrings, then challenges into the half-dark. "Who's first to take my spear?" His gaze comes full circle to rest on Varens. "Choose whom you will. You'll want to see if I can fight, after all." There is even a ripple of amusement in his voice at those words. "That is, if I'm speaking to the leader here." Is that a dig at Saraid? He is poised on the balls of his feet, ready for motion the bowstrings that cannot be fought and won are ignored.
[Saraid(#16811)]
"Brev, can you just stop talking?" Saraid says desperately, her spear still before her.
"Enough." Varens pulls Saraid back and she doesn't resist him. He faces Brev with a large axe in his hand. "You're both being idiots. You," he points at Brev. "Don't talk to Saraid. Saraid," he jerks a thumb back at her. "Don't be alone with him. He's probably been using you. I'm sure you'll make him regret it at some point. But you can both stop NOW."
Saraid takes this moment to look east, back toward the road is. The older one in the group follows her glance and looks curiously that way too.
Brev faces Varens, and the stocky man is likely close enough to see the sweat trickling down his brow, whatever outward bravado he may display. There is something else in his amber eyes, though, a flicker of - excitement? It is long since life has come with such high risk. "Aye boss," he says dutifully, pulling his spear back to the upright position. He does not let go quite yet, no doubt wary that the axe will arc his way without warning.
He spares one single glance toward Saraid as she glances at the road, and his eyes narrow a little. Understandable, surely, given the tension?
[Saraid(#16811)]
Saraid looks back toward Brev just in time to see his narrow-eyed look and she glares back at him. "I've been using HIM," she says spitefully. "And he's been useful enough too, in some ways."
Varens nods at Brev. "Keep moving. I don't have time to sort things out but you can keep in mind that we've had Saraid since she was young and has uses that you don't. You understand this?"
Brev takes the implicit threat for what it is. "Yes," he says evenly at last, beginning to walk. Low-voiced, he adds, to the man with the axe at his back, "But perhaps I, too, have uses that she does not. A wise crafter keeps /all/ his tools sharp." With that he is moving on, with no more looks toward Saraid or the road. What fears lie in his mind born from the direction of her glance, who can say?
Players: Brev, Saraid
Located in: Dunlending
- You are here:
-
Home
-
Elendor
-
Dunlending
- Meet the family ...