In search of the past: Truth hurts

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:       Tue Jun 30 14:46:05 2009
IC weather is:      Wind:  - Clouds: moderate
IC Moon is:         Not visible
IC time is:         Evening
IC date is:         Trewsday, Day 25 of April in the year 3047.

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[Nob(#16122)] It is evening. The sun is set, but the sky is still light, and down near one end of the village, the Bree boy who has come with the Dunlendings is shooting arrows into the stockade. A slight breeze rustles the grass, and the moon shows faintly in the pale sky.

Brev wanders along the street, his roll of tools slung over one shoulder, his feet taking him nowhere in particular. It is the movement that catches his attention first - he squints, pauses, listening, then wanders across to where Gidon stands, bow at the ready. "Evening," he greets in quiet, dry Common. "Is there an unseen enemy out there, or are you just practising?"

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon flushes, and goes to fetch his arrows before answering. He busies himself sticking them into the ground, not looking at the man, and says, "Practicing." There is a ring of pricks in the wood, most of them centered about a knothole, and some centering in it. He is not a bad shot, this lad, though neither is he extraordinary.

"Not bad," Brev comments, peering at the target rather than Gidon. "You have good concentration, too. Not many do. Hmm - wonder if I could match it?" He fingers the contraption of leather and cord stuck in his belt.

While he ponders, he adds, "Figure we probably should do some hunting. Squeezed all the work I can out of the locals, and it wasn't much."

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Hunting?" a female voice asks, Cordelia having come up while the two were talking. Her cloak hood is pushed back and long black hair hangs down her back. "Can I come?"

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon glances at the sling, and finally looks up to meet Brev's eyes, smiling a little. "Used t'use a sling," he says. "When I was too little t'pull a bow..." His words trail off as the woman comes up, and he darts a look at her, then drops his gaze. Shy, no doubt.

Brev turns, one brow raising at the sight of Cordelia. "That depends on whether you'd be any use. I'm not in the mood for dealing with distractions, least of all in lands like these." Something about the suggestion seems to be making him uncomfortable, for he lifts a hand to rub briefly at his cheek.

Gidon's smile is good enough reason to look away - he glances down at the lad. "Want to try this one?" He holds it out, before rummaging in his belt pouch for a round stone. "Suppose I should try to learn the bow some day. There's never time, though." He shrugs.

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I'm good with knives," Cordelia huffs, pulling a dagger from somewhere beneath her cloak. "Better than Muirgheal, even," she grins. Then she looks Gidon up and down, frowning. "Aren't you Keldean's friend?"

[Nob(#16122)] Dark eyes, brownish-grey, lift to the sling, and a slender hand reaches out for it. "Takes a bit of doing," Gidon admits. He glances towards his self-chosen target. And then his eyes go suddenly to Cordelia. "Aye..." he says slowly, warily.

Brev snorts in Cordelia's direction, acting unimpressed by the dagger. "What is it with women and knives? You'd do better with something ranged, or longer reach - unless you have a limitless supply of the things. If whatever you're trailing decides /you're/ the prey you want to be able to keep it at bay."

Looking to Gidon, he holds out a round stone without comment, his features carefully blank of expression, though he repeats carefully, "Keldean?"

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I don't have a limitless supply of daggers, and Muirgheal taught me a little how to use a sword but I'm better with daggers. So I'll butcher your catch," Cordelia snorts. "Or not. For a woman, daggers come in handy. They can be hidden and used when necessary."

"Yes," she then continues carefully. "Keldean. Of Bree. He..." She frowns. "Never mind."

[Nob(#16122)] The stone is taken and fitted into the sling. "Yes," Gidon says again, "He is my friend," leaving arguments over daggers and swords, men and women, to the other two. A slight frown wrinkles his brows. "I haven't seen him for a long time though. He what?" His eyes move to her face.

Brev shoots Cordelia a swift look. "Aye, they're handy," he concedes. "Not for hunting though. I keep my dagger for .. when it's needed." The corners of his mouth pull up in a half-smirk.

Gidon's statement brings simply a nod. "Ah." If he wonders why he has seen nothing of this friend, he does not say it.

[Cordelia(#24827)]
Again Cordelia frowns, though Brev does get a brief smirk and, "exactly."

"He..." she frowns to Brev but speaks to Gidon, "he went away for a while. Don't know if he will be back. He decided to be a trader."

[Nob(#16122)] There is a little flash of hurt in the boy's eyes, and he looks down, fiddling with the stone. Then he draws the sling back a little, sets it whirling and lets loose. "He never told me," he says quietly. The stone hisses through the air and thunks into the wooden post, and Gidon sets off to pick it up.

Brev, looking back to Cordelia, presumably notes the frown, for he regards her levelly as she speaks, as though he were weighing intent and not words.

Gidon's flash of movement brings his attention back to the boy. "Nice. You've not lost the knack," is his only contribution to the conversation at present.

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Do I tell him?" Cordelia asks in a whisper as Gidon wanders off to retrieve his stone. "Dead. Orcs. Pretty horrible."

[Nob(#16122)] The boy squats down, making a show of hunting for the stone. He is gone a little while. Longer than it might normally take to find one, not-so-small rock. But then, the grass is fairly long.

Cordelia's whisper brings Brev's gaze sharply back to her. His frown returns, and deepens. He is silent for a moment, regarding Gidon's bent back, then he hisses back, "Better to know than to keep hoping." His jaw tightens. "Don't give details. But - Kiern, poor lad." He sighs, softly.

[Nob(#16122)] The rock is found. Gidon returns, and smiles a little at Brev. "Thanks. It's been a while. I ain't so good no more." He holds out both sling and rock. "D'you hunt with these, then?" His eyes skitter around Cordelia, never quite looking at her.

[Cordelia(#24827)]
Cordelia frowns. "The truth is...Keldean is dead. I'm sorry. One of the elves found him and told me--I had come out here to look for him."

Brev takes both sling and rock, his fingers slipping easily round the cord, whilst he balances the stone in his other palm, tossing it gently in his hand. "Mostly I-"

Cordelia speaks, and the stone stills its motion. His gaze fixes solely on Gidon, his jaw suddenly tight.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon's gaze snaps to Cordelia's face and he looks at her almost as if the words don't make sense and he has to find his way through them. "Dead?" he says at last. "He..." He looks away, and one hand closes tight. "Oh. What - what happened?"

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"He fell from his horse--he was thrown. And I guess he was injured and attacked by goblins," Cordelia says, the frown deepening. "That is all I was ever able to find out. He never told me he was coming out here, he never said goodbye. I just found out by luck, coming out here and asking if anyone had seen him. If you want to know more, you need to speak with an elf named Giliath, but he wouldn't tell me more than that."

Brev's gaze remains on Gidon while Cordelia speaks, and his amber eyes have softened slightly. The end of her speech causes the man's shoulders to tense suddenly. "Gillath?" he repeats quietly.

[Nob(#16122)] "Goblins," Gidon repeats, and he looks suddenly sick his face going very pale and his eyes hollowed and dark. He swallows, and begins to pluck his arrows out of the ground he had just stuck them into. His hand moves almost blindly among them, missing this one, fumbling with that. "Wh-when?"

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Yes, Giliath. An elf," Cordelia responds to Brev, smirking just slightly. Her look changes back to sympathy to answer Gidon. "Last fall."

"We've met," Brev tells Cordelia tersely, without looking round - thus missing the smirk. "And his ..uh, woman. Kiern, but she was beautiful." For a moment the words trail off into silence and the man's expression is distant, abstracted almost, as he contemplates.

Then, with a shake, he brings himself back to the present. "Gidon," he says softly. "We can't change what's past. You're not the only one to lose a friend to goblins. Happens in Dunland far too often." He scowls, fiercely. "But Carac at least is working to change the future. Make the world a better place." He shrugs, as though he doubts quite whether that is possible, but then ploughs on, "If you stay with us - with him - you work toward that."

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon's eyes move to Brev's face, but there doesn't seem to be much comprehension in his face. Another arrow is pulled out of the ground and put back in again - almost in the same hole. Then, with a deep breath, the boy says to Cordelia, "You didn't never hear nothing... about a man? S-same time maybe?"

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"A man? With Keldean? Or a different man? I'm confused," Cordelia says. "Never heard anything about a man. You looking for anyone in particular?"

Brev continues to watch Gidon he starts to reach out a hand but stops with the motion still incomplete. At the boy's question he tenses, though at Cordelia's answer he relaxes somewhat. "His father," he hisses quietly.

[Nob(#16122)] Almost unconsciously, Gidon takes half a step towards Brev in response to the all-but-unseen hand. His shoulders relax in a sigh. "Nobody?" he insists, anxiously. "He's taller than me, an' his hair is lighter-colored."

[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Noone.." Cordelia shakes her head. "But..mayebe you'll find him here? Or if you go with Brev? Where are you going again?"

Brev sighs softly at Cordelia's affirmation and summons up the ghost of a smile for Gidon, though it is half-hearted. "We'll keep asking," he reassures the youth.

To Cordelia he shrugs. "Wherever it takes. Carac was supposed to be talking to you about that - guess he's been busy with other things." Like scouting out the lands round about, most likely. "Where is it you're looking to go, again?" A hint of the old dryness creeps back into his tone.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon nods. "I asked 'round here," he says softly. His face turns to Brev. Where /are/ they going?

[Cordelia(#24827)] "Nowhere in particular," Cordelia answers, adopting Brev's tone of voice. "It's not important. Carac, you say? I'll look for him..and for your father," she notes to Gidon before turning away and walking back to the village.

Brev's brow tilts up at Cordelia's response. "I wonder why 'nowhere in particular' is so important?" he murmurs quietly as he watches the woman turn away. He raises a hand in farewell, only then recollecting the fact that he's still holding his slihg.

Looking back to Gidon, he answers the unspoken question. "We're looking for aid," he tells the youth softly. "Dunland has too many enemies - goblins, Forgoil - and not enough men to hold it. The wild parts are empty, the rest ... Lordlings sit squabbling over the crumbs. Carac's the only one who gives a damn." Unbidden, resentment creeps into his tone, and he scowls, falling silent. If nothing else, perhaps the admission will distract Gidon from his understandable melancholy.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon listens, frowning a little in an attempt to concentrate. "That's why you come out here?" he asks. "I thought you was looking for lands, but you want men." There is a little question in his voice. "Why don't you like people with blond hair?"

Brev shrugs, rubbing at his face to hide the beginnings of a smile at the fact the distraction has worked. "Can't have one without the other," he responds. "Put it this way - if some of my folk were to settle in the lands round Bree, do /you/ think men would welcome it?" He snorts. "As to the other - there's been a long war between Dunland's folk and her neighbours, the ones you call 'blond' and we call Forgoil. They're thieves and murderers, generation after generation. You really expect me to like it?" He twists his lips into a smirk to take any sting from the question.

[Nob(#16122)] "Oh." Gidon considers this, still frowning. "Not all blond people then, just them as lives there by you." He dismisses the question, to give a soundless, humorless, laugh. "Some folk would be happy," he says honestly, "More folk to sell stuff too. Rest of them..." A shrug. But he still doesn't quite understand and asks again, "So is you staying here," a vague wave of the hand gives 'here' a large territory, "Or taking folk back with you t'help fight?"

Brev doesn't answer Gidon's question directly - not at first, at least. "But how many of us would it take before men turned against us? We'd end up fighting, squabbling over crumbs again." He scowls. "'Sides, I was born in the mountains, Bree just doesn't feel ... right. In the end, we'll go back." His voice is soft, and for once he's neither scowling or smirking, simply calm.

Then the moment is past. "You want to head back to camp, get something to eat? I'll set up a hunting trip. I - ah, need to talk to someone first. Women can be awkward sometimes." He gives Gidon a weak smile - probably he's already worrying about how to explain Cordelia's presence to the woman he refused to take hunting earlier.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon nods, uncertainly. And silently, he picks up the remainder of his arrows, putting them away and unstringing his bow. And then, after a while, he retraces his footsteps to the camp.