The kindness of strangers

Eastern Shore of the Bruinen

You are standing on the shore of a mighty river, the Bruinen. The river runs almost north-south here. A few large trees line its shores, but for the most part nothing blocks the sunlight which glitters off the wavelets. The water is shallow here, and runs very fast. You can see the water churning around the rocks that line the river bottom. The sloping riverbanks are muddy and slick, but not too steep, and can be traversed with care.

The road continues to the east and to the west across the river. The grassland to the north is also passable.

Obvious exits:
Southwest, West, and East

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                      Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
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Real Time is:       Fri Jul 24 03:59:57 2009
IC weather is:      Wind:  - Clouds: clear
IC Moon is:         Not visible
IC time is:         Mid Afternoon
IC date is:         Trewsday, Day 3 of July in the year 3047.

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It is a fine summer's evening. The sun slants down across the foaming waters of the Bruinen, turning the arcs of white spray into rainbows and the light woods that hug the eastern side of the river to gold. At one point in the wooded country, where the rising road dips through a little clearing, a thread of smoke arises, and on approaching one would find a small dwarven camp in the process of being set up.

Further away, though, two figures move through the woods - man and boy, both dark-haired and swarthy of skin. The man pauses, examining the ground around him carefully before asking in quiet, sing-song Common, "Where d'you want to set the snare? Here? You've a better eye for such things than me."

The man has a couple of loops of snare-cord in his hand, and a light hunting spear slung - a little awkwardly - on his back.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon crouches to look at the ground, then looks up. "Here," he says, his own voice quiet as well. He reaches up for the cord. He has no weapons at all, save a sling hanging from his belt, and a dagger thrust in beside it and his left arm hangs awkwardly. "It looks like a rabbit-run."

[Thulion(#28108)]
The quiet of these woods this evening is pierced suddenly by the peal of a common hawk as the raptor skims the treetops, just above where the two dark men stand debating over rabbit traps. Though the summer leaf-laden branches, the bird can seen to circle back once at least, though it's cry is not heard again.

Just as stillness seems to be settling again, a voice speaks out from the trees. A man's voice, measured to only just reach the ears of the twain, "A rabbit run, aye, but doubtful its maker will be returning."

Brev notes Gidon's gesture. He gives the lad one of the cords, though he queries softly, "Sure you don't want me to?" He starts to crouch down, then breaks off with a grunt - with the spear slung on his back, any bending motion is awkward. He settles instead for tugging the weapon free as Gidon works. "Need to get one of these fixed up for you," he comments softly. "I asked-" The words are stilled instantly as the voice echoes out, and the man's grip on the spear shifts, so that the weapon is held at the ready. Its tip dips slightly, toward the place where the man /thinks/ the voice has come from. "Because it's maker rests in your belly? Show yourself."

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon starts to set the snare, one hand deft and sure, the other fumbling and clumsy. After a minute, he hisses between his teeth in frustration, and starts to say, "Guess you'd better..." when someone speaks from the woods. The boy goes still, right hand creeping noiselessly towards his sling.

[Thulion(#28108)]
No sound of footsteps mark the stranger's approach rather the tall, cloaked man merely appears from among the trunks, considerably to the side of where the spear is pointed. One calloused hand is held up slightly, palm outward, "Nay, not yet at any rate," he gestures slightly towards his other hand, in which is grasped, indeed, a pair of rabbits, freshly killed. The open hand lifts slowly, to nudge back his hood. Keen grey eyes flicker over Brev, and settle for a long moment on the younger of the two: the glance gauging, but not unkind.

When he speaks again, though, his gaze strays back to answer Brev. "Peace, stranger," he says softly, with a flick of his eyes to the speartip. "I mean no harm, to any of your party. Yet the day grows late, and the woods, even here, can be dangerous by dark. Have you not yet caught your supper?"

Brev remains still, his gaze focussed on the trees, though surely he is aware of Gidon shifting at his side. At Thulion's sudden appearance a muscle starts to twitch in his cheek, although his stance does not change. His voice, when he speaks, is levelly calm. "All places can be dangerous. We seek no harm - but I'll deal it to any who threaten." A hint of warning creeps into his tone. "Unlike yourself, stranger, travel has left us little time for such things as hunting."

To Gidon he hisses softly, "Is this the one? Is he the man who hurt you?"

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon's eyes are fierce and intent but then the ranger shows his face and he relaxes. "No," he whispers. "Weren't him." He retrieves the snare, which hadn't yet gotten set properly, but instead of tucking it into his belt, he simply holds it in loose fingers. The boy seems content to let Brev do the talking.

[Thulion(#28108)]
Grey eyes shift between the two, watching them closely as hushed words are exchanged. "Ah, but I hunt /as/ I travel," answers he quietly, a weary smile drawing his lips into a line, a tiredness which has nothing to do with how many miles he has walked today. "For my own path leaves me little time for much at all. Indeed, I intended but to pass by that little camp," he motions in the direction of the curling smoke. "And continue along my way. But now I have an offer to make you." He holds up the pair of rabbits, "Take these for yourselves, and keep safe in your camp tonight. For things creep in the woods tonight that would gladly make supper of you, otherwise."

Gidon's response seems to quiet Brev's suspicion. The spear in his hand shifts, so that the butt rests on the ground and the tip points skyward.

"A generous offer," he answers Thulion gravely. Is there a hint of amusement rippling through the words. "Indeed, woods where things creep in the night are no place for a lone man." He looks the shabby stranger up and down, then queries softly, "Where are your companions, traveller? A man travelling alone would be well advised to seek company." His lips twitch.

Almost brusquely he adds in afterthought, "If you'd give the rabbits, then come share them. One who walks in peace has little to fear."

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon stands up, letting go of his sling which still hangs from his belt. With an effort, he lifts his left hand part way, then takes the snare cord from it with his other hand, and tucks this too into his belt. "Aye," he says in support of Brev's words, but that is all he has reverted to his normal untalkative self in the presence of this stranger though he keeps looking at the man as if trying to remember something.

[Thulion(#28108)]
A soft, if sudden chuckle is drawn from the Ranger, "Companions?" His voice trails into a sigh, and he gives his head a shake. "Dangerous though the road may be, some of us are doomed to travel alone. I have managed on it for some years now, and hope yet to manage a little while longer." He pauses, and then a slight, yet genuine smile touches his features. "Yet, your offer is kind, and though I may be foolish enough to walk alone in the wild, I am not so foolish as to dismiss kindness unlooked-for." He nods once, "Gladly would I share of the rabbits."

A slight tilt of his head, the Ranger looks around Brev towards the younger of the two, "How do your wounds mend, lad?" He asks gently, his gaze knowing. Perhaps strangely so.

Gidon's sidelong glances do not go unnoticed by Brev. "What is it?" he murmurs to the lad out of the corner of his mouth. "Do you know the man? If he's trouble I want to know now."

Thulion's words halt his murmurs. "Some of us are not doomed to travel alone," he answers, a slight frown creasing his brows at the implied recognition. Almost casually, his free hand - the left, which holds no more than a snare-cord - moves to rest for a moment on Gidon's shoulder, the warning implied: this one has protection. "And most of those of us who do have the sense to seek out company. Tell me, stranger, where does your hunt take you?" He does not yet turn to lead the way back to camp, perhaps moved by Gidon's stance to caution anew.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon shakes his head uncertainly. "I don't know..." he says softly to Brev, a slight frown drawing his eyebrows together. Thulion asks his question and uncertainty mixes with surprise. "How did you... Was it you?" he asks hesitantly. "With th'sword?"

[Thulion(#28108)]
"Nay," the Ranger shakes his head solemnly to Gidon. "It was not I who fought that night. Yet I heard of what happened, when I arrived in the village come morn. You lay fevered by the fire in the gathering house I am not surprised you do not remember me quite."

Thulion shifts his gaze to Brev once more, his eyes settling quietly upon him. "East, west, and back again," he answers a bit cryptically. "This night I am eastward bound." Away, distant and at the same time all too near, a wolf howls into the deepening twilight forlorn and hungry is its cry. The Rangers head lifts slightly, and he falls silent until the wood is silent once more. "If you doubt me, then take the rabbits and return to your camp." He says in a hush, his voice both calm and urgent. Extending his arm, he proffers the creatures in question. "And who would I seek, that would walk the same paths as I?" He shakes his head, the question asked but no answer expected. "Night, and more importantly, wolves are near. You had best return to your company."

Brev's brows lift at Thulion's answer, and one corner of his mouth pulls back slightly. "East, west and back again," he repeats, amber eyes glinting. "Funny, that. Sounds something like my own journeys."

He dismisses the man's offer with a quietly snorted breath. "These days, I doubt everyone I don't know. Behold the friendship of strangers." He gestures to Gidon's left arm, hanging limp by his side, and his lip curls. "But the world's a big place, and I can hardly toss every stranger I meet to the wolves. I'll let Gidon decide if he's comfortable in your company." His gaze shifts to the youngster beside him, silently questioning. "Either way, we should return to the fire," he murmurs to the boy quietly. As the wolf's howl is repeated, his fingers slide almost subconsciously up the spear-haft to check the bindings.

[Nob(#16122)] The boy is silent, considering Thulion. "I don' remember," he says softly. A moment longer, then he decides. "Aye. Come." He turns back the way they had come, looking nervously into the darkening woods where wolves are clearly gathering. To Brev, he says, "Was another man, thought he was swinging a sword at me, but he fought 'im with th'axe." His own memories of that night are confused, shot through as they are with terror and pain, but he remembers the flash of a blade and the ringing of steel over his head. "D'you know who it was?" he asks Thulion. "If you was there?"

[Thulion(#28108)]
The Ranger's own lips twitch in the slightest at Brev's first response. "And likely the sum of many men's journeys," A pause, and a mask of seriousness returns to his features, and he nods once. "And you are wise to do so. It is why I did not try to convince you otherwise... but I /am/ grateful. 'Tis not an evening I care to spend with the wolves," The corner of his mouth pulls upward again, if only momentarily.

Turning in the same direction as Gidon, Thulion glances sidelong to him, a quiet sigh escaping parted lips, "By the time I arrived, both the man with the axe and the man with the sword seemed to have departed."

Brev falls into step behind Gidon, jerking his head at Thulion to follow. "Aye. I'd heard," he murmurs to Gidon. "Thank Kiern for small mercies, eh?" He gives the lad a forced half-smile that does not reach his eyes.

To Thulion he states simply. "Figure some things," he jerks his head to the dark woods, "are worse than strangers. And if the one who helped Gidon is any kin to you," it seems the man has drawn the obvious conclusion based on Gidon's reaction, "then he has my thanks. Kiern - a whole village full of able-bodied men and only one of the local folk lifted a finger to help the lad! He didn't come off too lightly, either." His features twist in a sudden scowl.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon ducks his head and says nothing. Maybe he can't quite be thankful for anything about that night yet. Thulion receives a nod. And quite noiselessly for a boy his age, he pads through the woods back to the dwarven camp.

[Thulion(#28108)]
Falling silent, Thulion turns to walk along with the Dunlendings to the camp, his own footsteps naught to be heard beside the stirring of wind in the leaves overheard. One last glance is spared into the night behind, eyes slightly narrowed and nostrils flared, then he moves along back towards the road and firelight.

Brev, for his part, watches Gidon's ducked head and sighs, his jaw setting. He too is silent as he treads carefully back through the wood, his movements making little noise though he is not ranger-quiet. Soon the night is empty again, left to wild beast and bird and to other things that men do not name ...