A fond farewell

Shepherding Village

This is the home of a small, proud, and independent people who live primarily by herding sheep in the open lands south of the Great East Road. Once driven from this region by troll depredations, they have returned and appear to be prospering, perhaps because they can also profit by trade on the Great East Road. There are many sturdy houses and smaller huts clustered on a hill here, safely ensconced behind a deep ditch and wall. The ditch is filled with thorn bushes ... and the gate to the village is by a removable walkway over that ditch. Clearly the possibility of attack, whether from trolls or something worse, has not been ignored.

A long, low, whitewashed building, sprawling along the hillside below the caravanserai, appears to the south. The thatched roof spills down to the tops of its lead-paned windows, thick glass aglow with firelight.

Obvious exits:
Gathering House, Caravanserai, and Great East Road

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                      Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
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Real Time is:       Wed Jul 22 14:37:22 2009
IC weather is:      Wind:  - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is:         Last quarter
IC time is:         Morning
IC date is:         Highday, 1st Lithe in the year 3047.

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Background: A small party of Dwarves (NPCed by Bifur) has agreed to let Brev and Gidon accompany them across the High Pass on the condition that they not fall behind, cause no trouble and don't expect any extra help.

[Nob(#16122)] It is quite early, dawn is just breaking, but already the small dwarven party is up and busily checking over their belongings - specifically their axes, hammers and other weapons. Gidon is nearby, having packed all that he owns into one bag and slung it over his shoulder - save for his bow, for which he has begged a spot in the wagon. He is rather gloomily staring at nothing much, and absently trying to lift his arm out to the side. He can't get it very high at all, and each attempt brings a deeper scowl to his face.

Brev has seemingly been off on some business of his own, for now he wanders up, pack already on his back and a hunting spear held loosely in his hand. "You all right?" he queries Gidon by way of greeting, then looks idly round. "Kiern! Can't say I'll be sorry to see the last of this place. Not that it's bad - reckon I've far outstayed my welcome though." The final words are accompanied by a smirk.

[Muirgheal(#32535)] The thin young blonde woman, foreign to these parts, is out walking with her sheep dog again. Spotting Gidon amongst the departing, the boy who was nursed back to health under her roof, she hurries over to say a quick farewell- yet another has beat her there. "Ready to go, boy?" she asks Gidon with a nod, trying to ignore Brev. But the bait is there, and she can't resist muttering, "You can say that again," in response to his smirking statement.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon looks up swiftly and a smile unknits his dark eyebrows. He nods in agreement with Brev, then turns as Muirgheal comes. His smile grows a little, though it never gets very large - not these days. "Aye," he says softly. "Thankee..."

Brev turns and flicks a glance in Muirgheal's direction. His features, in profile, confirm something she might have noticed over the past few weeks - for reasons unknown, he has shaved off his beard. Without it he definitely looks younger, almost meriting the title of 'boy' that she was always so bent on giving him. "Hmm? I'll make sure to look you up on our return," he promises idly, the smirk not dropping.

As he glances to Gidon, it fades a little. "You'd not have gone uncared for," he states a little brusquely, then sighs and adds to Muirgheal, without any smirk. "Thanks for looking after the lad." A little grudging, but it's said anyway.

[Muirgheal(#32535)] Muirgheal's smile is genuine, and makes her look younger, too. "Are they treating you alright?" she asks with a slight frown in Brev's general direction. "Are they taking you back to Bree, or on with them for the journey to Dunland?" She makes no comment about Brev's lack of a beard, but when she finally turns her head to look at him and notices it, she gives him a huge grin. "Oh, you do that, boy. Only...I won't be here. You're not the only one who's overstayed their welcome. Uannve and I are moving on, together." And when Brev thanks her for looking after Gidon? Oh, Muirgheal basks in his grudging admission of thanks, grinning again, an expression slightly wolfish on her lean features.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon ducks his head at Brev's comment. "Know it," he says - a change from the days he thought the Dunlendings would have left him at the river to make his way home alone. But his head, with its shaggy mane of dark, nearly black hair comes up in protest in the next minute. "Brev's good t'me," he says. "We're goin' over th'mountains to B'orning." His careful pronunciation of the new word has swiftly given way to a more comfortable slur. "Folk there maybe seen m'da."

Brev rises to Muirgheal's bait. "/I/," there is a slight stress on that word, "am accompanying young Gidon here across the Misties." Indeed, all the rest of the group that can be seen at present appear to be dwarves. That, coupled with their absence in the village of late, confirms that yes, the majority of the Dunlending group is long gone. "After that ... who knows." He shrugs, not giving the impression of caring much about it. At the rest of her words, though, he groans. "Kiern! Not thinking of moving east, were you? Uannve doesn't bother me." The 'but' goes unsaid, if clearly implied.

To Gidon he gives a wink. "Eh. Sure you'll be saying that when I'm forcing you on mile after mile through yon mountains?"

[Muirgheal(#32535)] "You be careful with the boy. He needs none of your influence. But.." Muirgheal's dark eyes look between them, but she avoids looking at the dwarves. Prejudiced, much? She appears to be. "What? You aren't going back to Dunland?" Oh, now that has her interest completely. She stares hard at Brev. "Why wouldn't you want to be going home, hm?" She refrains from calling him 'boy' for a moment, prefering an answer for once to trading insults. She laughs suddenly. "If you didn't hate me so much, and I didn't hate you back, I'd say you weren't so horrible." And then, being bold and rather brash, perhaps irritated at him for mentioning Uannve, Muirgheal only shrugs and says, "She warms my bed, not yours, so whether or not she bothers you is irrelevant. Would you be wanting to know our whereabouts so that you can come for a visit, is that it? I know you'll miss my pretty face." At least she managed not to be sarcastic for a few minutes?

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon catches the wink and almost grins. He has stopped trying to lift his arm, and instead is flexing his fingers, together and one at a time. And for a little bit, he just listens as the adults converse.

Brev tilts one brow upward. "The boy? If scars make the man, then by your reckoning Gidon is one. What he /needs/ is someone to stand at his side. Are you volunteering?" Into his amber eyes a hint of challenge creeps. "As to where I go, that's none of your business. I'm like the wind - blow this way and that." He smirks, but it is short-lived, changing instead to a grimace. "And did I need to know who shares your bed? Kiern, I pity your poor husband." For a moment it looks as though he will leave the conversation there, but after a while he adds, "Figure Uannve has her own reasons for being where she is. I won't bother her if she doesn't bother me. Same goes for you." Well, not exactly courtesy, but .. almost.

To Gidon he queries, "Got all your things? Anything else you need from Muirgheal here?"

[Muirgheal(#32535)] Muirgheal gives Gidon a smile of farewell before looking back to Brev. "I don't know what scars make a person. A man? Maybe. But what do they make me, then? And as to Gidon," Muirgheal says, using his name now, "I'd gladly welcome him into my family. But you know as well as I do that that'd be no life for him. I've got three small ones, Uannve, a husband who isn't in his right mind a fair number of his days, and a good many animals that need looking after. I'm tired just mentioning it all!" Muirgheal grins a little. "You're not -so- bad, you know," she adds after a while. No doubt she approves of his leaving Dunland behind. With that, Muirgheal gives them both a wave, and turns to head back toward her house.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon nods, though there is a question in his raised eyebrows as he looks at Muirgheal. Does he need anything else? He shrugs the shoulder where his pack is slung: "Got it here." He flushes a little as both adults speak of him in terms of praise - but there is relief in his eyes as the woman says her family would not be to his suiting. All those kids!

Brev tenses a little as Muirgheal speaks - does he fear Gidon will express a preference for the blonde woman? - but when she finishes he simply chuckles. "I can't have been trying hard enough, then. You're none so bad yourself ... as a verbal sparring partner, that is. Shame we never did find out who's better with a dagger, eh?" Amusement glints in his eyes, along with something else - just a hint of challenge, perhaps? He lifts a hand in brief farewell, then turns away, back to Gidon, his attention drawn to the pack. "Reckon one of the Dwarves would put that in their wagon, if you try harder to look pale and injured. If Kiern had meant us to carry the world on our backs, he'd not have made oxen." The corners of his mouth twitch briefly.

[Muirgheal(#32535)] Muirgheal is making quick strides away, both boys- or men, as it were- behind her now, and her dog at her heels. Only once, when she's a fair distance away, does she turn back to call over her shoulder. "Gidon?" she calls, and then hesitantly adds, "Brev?" Then she simply says, "Kiern bless your journey." With that, Muirgheal hurries out of earshot, back to her house.

[Nob(#16122)] The boy nods, and turns towards the dwarven wagon. But Muirgheal's call turns him back. He lifts a hand in farewell. "Thankee," he calls to her as she disappears towards her house.

Now both Brev's brows tilt up, his expression quizzical. He shoots Muirgheal a sidelong glance, and watches her retreat. After a moment, he grins and murmurs, "Definitely haven't being trying hard enough."

Looking back to Gidon, he reiterates, "So? Going to try your luck in ditching the pack? You've got to learn to take advantage of other folk, you know."

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon looks perplexed. "Why'd I do that?" he asks. "But there ain't no harm in asking."

Brev lets out his breath in a snort. "Because that's what other folk are there for. No sense making life hard for yourself. Kiern, you're worse than Verge. Just because you /can/ do something doesn't mean you have to." The words are accompanied by one of those trademark smirks.

[Nob(#16122)] The boy's puzzled look only deepens. There is something wrong with this, something he can't quite articulate, and so he only shrugs mutely. "Ain't no harm in askin'," he repeats. A pause. "You ain't took advantage of me," he points out.

Brev lifts one brow. "No? Got you to guide us out here, didn't I." His turn to pause - there is silence for a moment, then he says, a little roughly, "Know what it's like to stand alone, don't I? No sense you doing that if you don't have to. 'Sides," he looks away, and mutters the rest, "figure you remind me a bit of someone."

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon shrugs and his half-smile curves his lips and lights up his eyes. "Wanted t'come," he admits. "Couldn't on my own." The smile wides just a little. "Mebbe I took advantage of you..." He watches the man for a few minutes, asking curiously, "Who?"

Brev rubs at his cheek before turning back to Gidon. "Does it matter?"

[Nob(#16122)] The boy looks surprised. "Reckon not," he says simply. "Just wondered." He shifts his pack on his shoulder. "That healer feller's coming too, I think," he says abruptly.

Brev grunts at Gidon's first statement, and does not clarify any further at present. The other piece of information elicits a blink. "Who? The one who treated your fever? Thought he was some Breelander fellow. Shouldn't the very thought of travel send him into fits of terror?" He grins sarcastically - no, Brev has clearly not been overimpressed by Bree's upstanding citizens.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon shrugs. "Dunno," he says. "Think so. Came by, asked was I going back. Said..." he falters just a little. "... m'arm might not get all th'way better. He got some things I can do." The boy leaves out their discussion of the Dunlendings in general, and Brev in particular. "Said he'd come along, ever'body likes another healer around."

Brev eyes Gidon carefully, noting the hesitance in his speech. "Your arm is how it is," he says at last. "You've got some use of it already, with time you'll have more. And you'll adapt, adjust for any weakness." He favours the lad with a smile that's likely meant as reassuring, then moves on to the other topic. "And you're right about the healer fellow. Kiern knows I've little enough experience. I can treat battle wounds, patch folk up until they get to a /real/ healer. Anything else ..." He lets the words trail off, shrugging.

[Nob(#16122)] This is a very understated reassurance, but it does the trick. Or perhaps it is just that Brev has said it. Gidon nods and looks a little less worried. "I been working on it," he says. "Look." With a grimace of effort and not a little pain, he lifts his arm straight out in front of him, then manages to swivel the wrist over so it is almost in the position of holding a bow. "Figure, all I got t'do is get it strong enough to hold. An' you'll teach me that spear still?"

Brev gives a non-comittal "Mmm," as he watches Gidon's efforts. "Meantime, you've got the sling. All you need to do for that is set the stone, shouldn't be so hard ... And aye. Managed to wangle some spearheads from the local smith, just need the shafts. Figure some of yon folk," he nods briefly toward the busy dwarves, "can see to fixing the heads. Uh - is there some polite way to address them?" Perhaps the man has come to realize that if he is to travel then his attitude to strangers needs some mending.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon brightens. "Aye," he says with something almost approaching enthusiasm. "M'better with a sling, still." He glances over at the dwarves. "Just - normal." A flicker of real humor. "Don' be callin' 'em names like you done that lady," he advises.

Brev chuckles. "Ah, come on. She enjoyed every minute of it - gave as good as she got, too. Most entertaining." He smirks, but it soon fades. "What's normal? Can't exactly march up to one and call him 'man'. Or 'woman' - if they have any of those hidden away." He eyes the wagging beards doubtfully.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon does actually grin this time. "Well," he says seriously, then, "Y'could just say, 'sir', reckon."

"Sir," Brev repeats - then perplexity creases his brow. "That means the same as 'man'? It's not a rank - like Ceann or Fian?"

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon shakes his head. "I dunno what Ceann or Fian is, but s'like saying... Mister? Or like, for ladies, you say, 'Ma'am'. Is just being polite if you don' know somebody or don' know their name or something."

"Hmm." From the look on Brev's face, Dunlendings are not overly concerned with being polite. He gives a snort, followed by a resigned nod. "Right. I'll give it a try. Want to look pale and wan while I ask yon fellow over there if there's room for another pack in his wagon?" He gives the Breelad a swift grin, then saunters over to one of the dwarves, a stocky black-bearded fellow. "Uh - sir? Something I wanted to ask ..."