Elendor
East or west?
Brev presses the recovering Gidon for his plans
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Shepherding Village
Game Date: June 3047
IC Time: Morning
Description: 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
===============================================================================
Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Tue Jul 21 16:48:33 2009
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Dawn
IC date is: Hevensday, Day 29 of June in the year 3047.
===============================================================================
It is early morning, and a fine one at that. Little wisps of mist linger in the hollows, but already the slanting sun is burning them off likely it will be hot later. Now, however, it is pleasantly cool.
Brev, as often, is up with the sun, and striding purposefully through the Shepherding Village. His destination is apparently the house belonging to Muirgheal and her family.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon is a little ways away from the house, in some taller grass. He is bent over, doing something, then straightens, wiping his hair out of his eyes. A string or cord of sorts dangles from his hand, and he is scowling.
Brev catches sight of the lad as he straightens, and turns his own steps that way. "Morning," he calls out by way of heralding his approach, adding with a half-smile, "might even go so far as to call it a good one." He nods toward the end of cord he can see. "What've you got there?"
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon turns, and his frown smooths a little, mostly remaining though. He gives the cord a deprecating look. "Was trying t'tie a snare," he says. "M'fingers ain't working right." He holds out his arm with an effort, and moves his hand - the fingers do all move, but clumsily.
Brev eyes the outstretched fingers. "You have been /trying/ to move them, haven't you?" he asks, warily. "Won't work if you don't excercise them. But as to the snare - here." He holds out his own hand for the piece of cord. "We should get hold of a weapon for you, too. Which do you prefer, spear or dagger?"
[Nob(#16122)] "I been," Gidon nods. "They just... don' work right. Feel funny." He holds on to the snare, stubbornly. "Got t'learn t'do it," he tells the man. "Ain't no use if'n I can't even hunt." There is an edge of bitterness to his voice, but it is erased by surprise. "I ain't never used a spear."
Brev blinks in turn. "You haven't? I can show you how - spear's handy for hunting, given time you'd probably be better with it than I. Daggers are handy for ... other things." The side of his mouth pulls back in a slight smirk. "Probably less to your taste."
He shrugs and adds, "If you don't want help, it's up to you." He lets Gidon struggle on with the snare-cord.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon shakes his head, leaving the cord to dangle for now. "Use a dagger t'eat with," he says. "I could try a spear. Y'can hunt with it? I only used a bow, and snares." There is a momentary return of the bitterness in the twist of his mouth when he speaks of his bow. Then a pause. "Brev," he says at last, "Tell me true. D'you think he lied? Really? Or were you just saying it?" His dark brown eyes are intent on the man's face.
Brev makes a small, very quiet snort at those first words, but he nods to the next. "You can throw a light spear - if you're sure your target won't turn on you, once it's left your hand you're weaponless. Or you can thrust with it. That's how you'd deal with the likes of a boar - or a mountain lion. Nasty tempers those have." He pulls a face.
His gaze rests for a moment on Gidon's bitter features, but he continues on without any expression of pity. "The only truth I can give you ... is that I don't know. The man's a killer all right, from what I've heard, gives little reason for doubt. But-" his own gaze seeks out Gidon, the amber eyes coolly calm, "there's just one thing. The other man - the one whose shoulder I bound up, fellow with funny eyes - said he'd seen a man of your father's description heading east. And the stranger came here from the west."
[Nob(#16122)] The boy listens intently, and his eyes gain some of Brev's calm. Then he drops them, fidgeting with the cord he still holds. "And," he says with a little difficulty. "You'd ... go with me?" His face is growing drawn, his arm aching more and more as it hangs loose by his side, and without really thinking of it, he slides it back into the sling around his neck. His expression eases, and he looks up again for Brev's answer.
Brev is silent a moment before answering. "Aye," he says at last. "If that's the path you choose." There is a ring of approval, almost, to the words. "My own search has proven fruitless," at that admission his features twist into a brief, black, scowl, "and I-" he checks, whatever it is unsaid. "'Sides, Carac's out there somewhere. Probably halfway across the mountains by now." Unconsciously his gaze leaves Gidon's and slips away east, so that he must squint into the morning sun. "We'd need a guide, though. Or preferably more than one, there's safety in numbers."
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon hears the approval, if only subconsciously, and stands a little straighter. "Met a man," he says. "Th'other day, he come from yon. Asked him about th'way, he told me some. Said a body shouldn't go alone, ought maybe to look out some dorves. Dunno's any's here, though." A twisted smile. "I been off m'head."
"Dorves?" Brev repeats blankly, clearly none the wiser. The other remark brings out a snort. "Don't worry about it, lad. Least you're too young to have many secrets. Kiern alone knows what I blabbed last time Saffron dosed me up with some of her herbs. I try not to think about it." He gives a crooked smile kin to Gidon's. "We had to keep moving, couldn't afford to have me slowing the group down. Reckoned my pride was less important than folk's lives."
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon's smile grows a little. "Dorves," he repeats, his soft burr mangling the word some. "Y'know, short folk, got beards and ... axes. They travel back an' forth a lot. Drink a lot."
Brev frowns, though it has the look of puzzlement rather than anger. "Never seen one of those wee rabbit- ah, hobbit-men with an axe before. Or a beard, come to that. Sure you don't - ahh." Suddenly his expression clears. "You mean the Stunted Folk. Heard of them, never met one. Have you?" One brow lifts in query.
[Nob(#16122)] "Short, aye," Gidon says. "Not th'hobbits. Dorves, they call themselves." He shakes his head, and looks around. There being nothing handy, he sits down on the ground, looking tired. "Ain't met one, right out," he concedes. "Seen 'em though. Hid in a tree oncet, t'watch 'em go by."
Brev nods at Gidon's clarification. "Dorves," he repeats, then frowns. "Heard they're greedy buggers. Their company might come at too high a price." He shrugs. "My Da did say they're honest, though." He peers down at Gidon thoughtfully, then suggests, "If you do come across any of the creatures, maybe /you'd/ best speak to them first? My folk aren't the friendliest to strangers." He gives an entirely unembarrassed smirk at that statement.
A brief pause, then he adds, drily, "When you've finished testing the ground for hardness, how about coming along to see if there's any breakfast worth having at the Gathering House? Can't see much round here except grass." He jerks his head in the direction of the building.
[Nob(#16122)] "All right," the boy agrees. "I'll look out for any. I ain't got no money though. That other man, he says he's going t'Bree then coming back." He flushes at Brev's comment on the ground, and stands up, a little awkardly, stuffing the snare cord into his pocket. Together, they go towards the Gathering House and disappear inside.
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
===============================================================================
Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Tue Jul 21 16:48:33 2009
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: sparse
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Dawn
IC date is: Hevensday, Day 29 of June in the year 3047.
===============================================================================
It is early morning, and a fine one at that. Little wisps of mist linger in the hollows, but already the slanting sun is burning them off likely it will be hot later. Now, however, it is pleasantly cool.
Brev, as often, is up with the sun, and striding purposefully through the Shepherding Village. His destination is apparently the house belonging to Muirgheal and her family.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon is a little ways away from the house, in some taller grass. He is bent over, doing something, then straightens, wiping his hair out of his eyes. A string or cord of sorts dangles from his hand, and he is scowling.
Brev catches sight of the lad as he straightens, and turns his own steps that way. "Morning," he calls out by way of heralding his approach, adding with a half-smile, "might even go so far as to call it a good one." He nods toward the end of cord he can see. "What've you got there?"
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon turns, and his frown smooths a little, mostly remaining though. He gives the cord a deprecating look. "Was trying t'tie a snare," he says. "M'fingers ain't working right." He holds out his arm with an effort, and moves his hand - the fingers do all move, but clumsily.
Brev eyes the outstretched fingers. "You have been /trying/ to move them, haven't you?" he asks, warily. "Won't work if you don't excercise them. But as to the snare - here." He holds out his own hand for the piece of cord. "We should get hold of a weapon for you, too. Which do you prefer, spear or dagger?"
[Nob(#16122)] "I been," Gidon nods. "They just... don' work right. Feel funny." He holds on to the snare, stubbornly. "Got t'learn t'do it," he tells the man. "Ain't no use if'n I can't even hunt." There is an edge of bitterness to his voice, but it is erased by surprise. "I ain't never used a spear."
Brev blinks in turn. "You haven't? I can show you how - spear's handy for hunting, given time you'd probably be better with it than I. Daggers are handy for ... other things." The side of his mouth pulls back in a slight smirk. "Probably less to your taste."
He shrugs and adds, "If you don't want help, it's up to you." He lets Gidon struggle on with the snare-cord.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon shakes his head, leaving the cord to dangle for now. "Use a dagger t'eat with," he says. "I could try a spear. Y'can hunt with it? I only used a bow, and snares." There is a momentary return of the bitterness in the twist of his mouth when he speaks of his bow. Then a pause. "Brev," he says at last, "Tell me true. D'you think he lied? Really? Or were you just saying it?" His dark brown eyes are intent on the man's face.
Brev makes a small, very quiet snort at those first words, but he nods to the next. "You can throw a light spear - if you're sure your target won't turn on you, once it's left your hand you're weaponless. Or you can thrust with it. That's how you'd deal with the likes of a boar - or a mountain lion. Nasty tempers those have." He pulls a face.
His gaze rests for a moment on Gidon's bitter features, but he continues on without any expression of pity. "The only truth I can give you ... is that I don't know. The man's a killer all right, from what I've heard, gives little reason for doubt. But-" his own gaze seeks out Gidon, the amber eyes coolly calm, "there's just one thing. The other man - the one whose shoulder I bound up, fellow with funny eyes - said he'd seen a man of your father's description heading east. And the stranger came here from the west."
[Nob(#16122)] The boy listens intently, and his eyes gain some of Brev's calm. Then he drops them, fidgeting with the cord he still holds. "And," he says with a little difficulty. "You'd ... go with me?" His face is growing drawn, his arm aching more and more as it hangs loose by his side, and without really thinking of it, he slides it back into the sling around his neck. His expression eases, and he looks up again for Brev's answer.
Brev is silent a moment before answering. "Aye," he says at last. "If that's the path you choose." There is a ring of approval, almost, to the words. "My own search has proven fruitless," at that admission his features twist into a brief, black, scowl, "and I-" he checks, whatever it is unsaid. "'Sides, Carac's out there somewhere. Probably halfway across the mountains by now." Unconsciously his gaze leaves Gidon's and slips away east, so that he must squint into the morning sun. "We'd need a guide, though. Or preferably more than one, there's safety in numbers."
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon hears the approval, if only subconsciously, and stands a little straighter. "Met a man," he says. "Th'other day, he come from yon. Asked him about th'way, he told me some. Said a body shouldn't go alone, ought maybe to look out some dorves. Dunno's any's here, though." A twisted smile. "I been off m'head."
"Dorves?" Brev repeats blankly, clearly none the wiser. The other remark brings out a snort. "Don't worry about it, lad. Least you're too young to have many secrets. Kiern alone knows what I blabbed last time Saffron dosed me up with some of her herbs. I try not to think about it." He gives a crooked smile kin to Gidon's. "We had to keep moving, couldn't afford to have me slowing the group down. Reckoned my pride was less important than folk's lives."
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon's smile grows a little. "Dorves," he repeats, his soft burr mangling the word some. "Y'know, short folk, got beards and ... axes. They travel back an' forth a lot. Drink a lot."
Brev frowns, though it has the look of puzzlement rather than anger. "Never seen one of those wee rabbit- ah, hobbit-men with an axe before. Or a beard, come to that. Sure you don't - ahh." Suddenly his expression clears. "You mean the Stunted Folk. Heard of them, never met one. Have you?" One brow lifts in query.
[Nob(#16122)] "Short, aye," Gidon says. "Not th'hobbits. Dorves, they call themselves." He shakes his head, and looks around. There being nothing handy, he sits down on the ground, looking tired. "Ain't met one, right out," he concedes. "Seen 'em though. Hid in a tree oncet, t'watch 'em go by."
Brev nods at Gidon's clarification. "Dorves," he repeats, then frowns. "Heard they're greedy buggers. Their company might come at too high a price." He shrugs. "My Da did say they're honest, though." He peers down at Gidon thoughtfully, then suggests, "If you do come across any of the creatures, maybe /you'd/ best speak to them first? My folk aren't the friendliest to strangers." He gives an entirely unembarrassed smirk at that statement.
A brief pause, then he adds, drily, "When you've finished testing the ground for hardness, how about coming along to see if there's any breakfast worth having at the Gathering House? Can't see much round here except grass." He jerks his head in the direction of the building.
[Nob(#16122)] "All right," the boy agrees. "I'll look out for any. I ain't got no money though. That other man, he says he's going t'Bree then coming back." He flushes at Brev's comment on the ground, and stands up, a little awkardly, stuffing the snare cord into his pocket. Together, they go towards the Gathering House and disappear inside.
Players: Brev, Gidon
Located in: Dunlending | Breefolk
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