Elendor
In search of the past: Lets talk
Cordelia and Brev each try to gain information from the other without giving it
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Shepherding village
Game Date: March 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: Thu Jun 18 09:30:07 2009
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: moderate
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Late Morning
IC date is: Monday, Day 19 of March in the year 3047.
===============================================================================
[Cordelia(#24827)]
Morning is nearly spent on this mid-March day, though the sun seems weak, competing as it is with fierce winds driving wispy white clouds across the pale blue sky. Folks in this village are going about their business, but whatever the dark-haired Cordelia's business amounts to, at the moment she is not doing it. Instead, she is approaching the encampment of strangers from Dunland, her gry cloak whipping about her legs as the wind charges through.
The strangers are keeping themselves to themselves, with only a few of them visible to the casual observer. The rest may be within the little cluster of grey tents, or off somewhere in the wilderness - who knows? Currently one figure is hunched over a cookfire, another watches the village warily, a third ... ah. That figure glances up at the approaching Cordelia, murmurs something to a companion and steps out from the encampment on a course that will intersect the woman's. It is the man Brev. He eyes the woman warily, then calls out, "Morning. Whether it's good depends on whether you're with or without dagger?" His lips twist in a wry smirk.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I _always_ carry a dagger, sir," Cordelia shrugs. "We live in dangerous times and one can never tell when some dark stranger will step out of the bushes and threaten. But usually...as in now...I carry it sheathed. I wish only to talk--I don't have my friend's quick temper." Nevertheless, she looks warily around the camp before eyeing Brev again.
"Fair enough," Brev responds, and then his lips twitch. "And I didn't threaten. The woman pulled a knife on me - what was I supposed to do, offer my throat to be slit?" He snorts. "If you want to talk, then talk. Somewhere other than here, if you wish, given /my/ friends seem to bother you."
From within the camp, the woman is watched, no more - given she does not share Muirgheal's unfortunate colouring, there is no particular hostility toward her.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "Your friends don't bother me--as long as they don't bother me, if you take my meaning," Cordelia shrugs, then extends a hand. "I'm Cordelia. Sort of from around here," she says, though the smile she gives with that might mean otherwise. "And you?"
Brev eyes the outthrust hand blankly for a moment, then perhaps remembers some behaviour he's seen in the Breelands, for he grasps it in his own and briefly shakes it. His hand is calloused and roughened in places, with a couple of old splinters stuck in the skin - a worker's hand, surely?
"Brev. Not from around here." State the obvious. "So then - what was it you wanted to talk about? Since I'm assuming it's not an offer to show those interesting scars of yours." He gives another of those irritating smirks.
[Cordelia(#24827)] Cordlia laughs at that, the woman far more relaxed than when they first met hte other day. "News. If you are from Dunland, as Muirgheal said, then I would like to know of news of the south..and lands east. It seems you folk are always at war?"
Brev reclaims his hand and eyes Cordelia speculatively, brows lifting at her final words. "Who told you that? Weren't any wars at the time I left - course, that was last autumn." And Dunland, whatever else, does not have a reputation for stability. "What exactly was it you wanted to know? You're not from down there yourself, you look ... different." This with a glance at her eyes. "Don't worry - suits you," he adds with a swift grin before any suspicions of racial hatred can surface. "But I don't have time for a history lesson. I could talk till past sundown about Dunland and the clans and you'd still be none the wiser."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
Cordelia puts up a placating hand. "Just a guess, Brev from not aroudn here. Just a guess. So your folk don't harrass the Rohirrim still? That's what I meant, of course."
"As for my looks and my origins....well, folk make assumptions, don't they? But you didn't seem to be startled by my looks at all, and so I thought perhaps things could go smooth between us."
Brev's brow lifts a little further, then drops smoothly down to join its neighbour, his expression bland. "What would a mere boy such as myself know of such things? Young and untried as I am ..." His voice is mocking. A little later, though, he adds, "Last time I saw someone who looked like /her/, we were wrestling spears with each other whilst his fellows killed three of my comrades. Does that answer your question? About wars and assumptions?"
"Of course," he adds after a pause, "you could always tell me a little about yourself. Then I'd not have to bother with more assumptions."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I could...and so fulfill your curiousity, but then what would I get out of it?" Cordelia offers in reply. "It seems to me you have little news to tell. Now...if you had something to offer me...well, say, if your traveling group was heading somewhere that I might want to go to as well, then I might tell you more. For I do wish to visit my mother, who lives east of here, but hte journey is perilous. My mother was from here originally--from Bree. My father..." she smiles, "was not."
Brev listens to the words - and sees the smile. His lips twist as though in some private amusement as he continues to watch Cordelia steadily. At last he says, "All comes down to trust, doesn't it? There's little point in me giving you information about Dunland and its affairs for you to pass to your Forgoil friend back there. And I suspect you have reasons of your own to keep quiet about yourself. Most folk do. But," and there he pauses, "this much I will say. We're not here to start a war - not even with the likes of you're friend We're simply here to look for kin. Ca- our leader," he catches himself quickly, "came across some information that led us to believe there might be kin to us living in this parts. Or elsewhere. East, you said?" This time his frown is speculative, not judgemental.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Oh...east...Buhr Mahrling, if you've heard of it," Cordelia says, droppnig the name casually. "My father was from there. And yes, trust is a thing, isn't it. But you say your..leader.." she smiles briefly, "seeks kin out here? Whereabouts? 'Out here' covers an awfully big area. And travel is dangerous."
Brev's expression does not change at the mention of the foreign name, but perhaps his very lack of reaction is clue to his lack of recognition. He blinks at the query. "Aye, travel is dangerous," he agrees, with a sigh. "But if any can withstand the dangers, /he/ can. He's .. men follow him." He shrugs at the explanation, almost as though embarrassed. "As to the where - we were hoping folk hereabouts would tell us of other communities. Looks like you folk are pretty settled, but maybe there's others who are less so? Folk who might share common interest with Dunland ..." The words trail off with a smile.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"There's Bree...and Archet. But I know those towns fairly well--I've been living there for several years. And I've never found anyone with a special interest in Dunland," Cordelia says, shaking her head. "Why did Muirgheal get so upset when you said you were looking for her friend? Odd person, Uannve. Doesn't ever speak much--she just lurks about, at least the few times I've seen her."
"Bree?" Brev snorts. "Kiern, I hope you don't take us for kin to those rabbit-men! I pity young Gidon."
At the other question, though, he eyes her coolly. "You tell me. That was the point where she started waving a dagger around, eh? Just as well she's all mouth and no- uh." His Common fails him at that point, probably just as well.
He pauses, then states levelly, "You know Uannve, too? Then when you see her, tell her this. I don't care how many men she's killed. Or what business she and her friend are mixed up in, I don't want to know. I just want to know what happened to my father. If they parted ways amicably, she has nothing to fear. If not ..."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Gidon? Who is Gidon and what does he have to do with Bree?" Cordelia syas, peering more closely at the Dunlander. "And yes, that was when she got upset, but I just told you--I've never even talked to Uannve. She just runs away into the forest when she sees me. Lurks about Muirgheal when she can, but never talks to anyone else."
"What happened to your father? Is she to blame?"
"A lad," Brev answers the first question. "He's from round there. No danger to you or anyone round here. He knows nothing of Dunland, or of Forgoil - but while he's with us, he's under my protection. Might want to think about that before anyone maltreats him." His mouth tightens, perhaps in response to Cordelia's peering.
The other query takes more thought. The man is silent a moment, expression distant, then says at last. "He disappeared, six - no, maybe seven - years ago. They were last seen in Dunland together ... just before Uannve murdered some fellow. Or maybe he lived, never did get the straight tale on that one."
[Cordelia(#24827)] "And now who is making the assumption that I would maltreat anyone, much less a boy," Cordelia snorts. "If he is from Bree or so, how did he fall in with your group?"
"And is that what brought you up so far north?" she asks, seeming to somehow be familiar with the land--an unusual thing for the normally isolated Breefolk. "Seeking knowledge of what happened to your father?"
"Didn't say you, did I?" Brev's mouth twitches, and then he actually grins at the dark-haired woman, though it is brief. The other question brings on a shake of the head. "Told you, we're looking for ... kin." There is a suggestive pause before that last word. "Likeminded folk. The fact mt own goals lay this way was just a bonus."
He gives the woman a lopsided smirk, then announces briskly, "That's enough questions for one day. Must have got your money's worth by now, eh? Next time it'll be my turn. Now, though ... I'd best go. Someone made the mistake of putting Rathos on cooking duty." Another of those smirks, and he turns away, back toward the circle of tents.
A few days later ...
It is midmorning, and the March winds are strong though the clouds have abated. The Shepherding village is bathed in pale yellow sunshine. It is, for the most part, quiet - the bulk of the men are in the fields, the women in their houses, and the near-empty space behind the gates is left mainly to scuffling children or that drunken oldster slouched against a wall droning something unintelligible under his breath.
One other is there, though, and he lingers near the rather odd-looking contraption of wood and iron that sits hunched like some great beast waiting to spring. Brev it is, his dark curls clearly visible, for he has long since abandoned any attempt to stop the wind snatching at his cloak. One hand clutches a roughened piece of vellum, the other a stick of charcoal, and he appears to be sketching. Every now and then he breaks off to pace beside the wooden monstrosity.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Good morning." The wind tears at Cordelia's voice, making it weak sounding as the young woman walks toward Brev. "You slept well, I trust? No marauding villagers attacking you in the night? No rabid Forgoils?"
Brev starts at the sound of the voice, and he hastily tucks the piece of vellum somewhere beneath his cloak. "Good morning - Cordella?" He pulls a face as he attempts the name, and comments, lips twitching, "You really should choose something easier to call yourself. Something nice and short, like mine. And it was unsettlingly quiet. Not used to all this lack of trouble." The twitching becomes a full-blown smirk.
"But enough of the questions - reckon it's my turn to ask those. Since I answered your so dutifully ..."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Cordy if you'd like. But only folks who know me call me that," the girl answers. A slight smile crosses her lips. "I will answer your questions as fully as you answered mine, sir."
Brev raises a brow. "Cordy," he repeats, blandly. "Does that mean if I use the name I get to know you?" There is a flash of a grin, whether at his query or at the rest of her words it's hard to say. "In other words, up hill and down dale and never quite arriving at the answer? Fair enough. Item one - is there somewhere out of this damn wind?" His cloak is billowing out behind him, and one hand has to clutch at it to keep his precious sketch safe.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "We shall see, we shall see," Cordelia says, waving a hand to Brev's statements. "The gathering house. Follow me," she says, indicating so with her hand as well. "What are you writing or drawing? And do you know how to read and write?"
Brev, not pursuing the matter further, follows. At Cordelia's question he snorts, loudly. "Not me. Never saw the point of all those dots and lines. Got a friend, who does, though. I was just making a sketch of that thing back there. Looks quite a contraption. Folk would think twice about assaulting the man who had one of those things ." He grins, not quite as pleasantly as before. "Seen one of them in action?"
[Cordelia(#24827)] "Well..." Cordelia hesitates, clearly reluctant to answer. "I think it's just something that some of the villagers are trying to put together. More fearsome than it looks. So...where are you going to look for your kin?"
Brev notes the reluctance, a flicker of amusement in his amber eyes as he draws his own conclusion. "Looks good to me," he comments. "Not that I'd have the skills to build one of the wretched things - not /that/ good a carpenter. But someone might."
At the other words, he stops, chuckling. "Thought it was my turn to ask the questions. You'll just have to listen, and guess your answers from those. So. What can you tell me about the lands north of here - and east." This last might be added as an afterthought, and he watches the woman to see if her expression changes.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "If you are going to ask questions, then just ask. Don't tell me you will and then say nothing," Cordelia shrugs. They arrive at the gathering house and she tugs open the door. "It's one thing to build a contraption. Quite another to get it to work." She steps inside without waiting. A fire is going and a number of villagers are tending to it, cooking, eating, or doing other chores.
"North of here?" Cordelia 'hmphs' and shakes her head. "Nothing but wasteland. A few Rangers who hunt it, I suppose, but it's a barren land with nothing of use to it."
Brev mirrors the shrug with one of his own, then follows the woman inside the Gathering-House, pushing his cloak back as the warmth hits. "Nothing there? No ruins?" His gaze is sharp suddenly.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "Ruins? Of course there must be ruins," Cordelia answers, leading them toward an empty table and sitting after she takes off her cloak and places it on the bench next to her. "You think your kinsman would take to ruins?"
"As for east...well, provided the trolls do not eat you, the elves might. But if you get through that, then there are mountains," she explains, appearing to be all-too familiar with the passage.
Brev follows, tugging off his own cloak and folding it carefully so as not to crease the sketch tucked somewhere within. Beneath it, he is clad in jerkin and trews of leather, as though he expected trouble. "I'll stand you a drink if they'll take my coin," he offers, magnanimously. "Otherwise you're on your own. Suppose I ought to see if anyone needs some jobs done." He sighs at the thought of it.
The other topic is likely what brings a frown to his brow. "No, I don't think my folk would take to ruins. We were hoping to find /men/, but if not ... perhaps we can find some traces of their passing." He sighs heavily. "And ruins is what someone mentioned." Moment of reflection over, he shrugs and changes the topic. "I'd like to hear more of the road east. And the mountains."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I suppose it depends on what kind of metal your coin is made of," Cordelia shrugs. "If it's valuable to them, they will take it--they're well used to travelers here. But more than likely, you will have to work to earn your keep. I'm only here as Muirgheal's guest. But it's nearly time that ended," she adds aftera moment's hesitation.
"East." Cordelia frowns and eyes Brev carefully. "Why do you want to go east? There are trolls--have you ever seen a troll? And elves...I can't decide which is worse. And Rangers...interfering hunters who put their nose in everyone's business. Beyond that...mountains. A very cold and treacherous path, with orcs waiting to make you into a meal. I could go on. There is more.."
Brev gives Cordelia a sidelong glance at her mention of ceasing to be Muirgheal's guest, though he carefully avoids commenting on that topic. He returns her careful glance with one of his own, his features bland. "Did I say I wanted to go east?" There is an undercurrent of amusement in his tone. "And I'd very much like to meet one of these mythical rangers. If they know as much of the Wild as folk say .. But let us suppose for the moment I did want to go east. Do go on."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"You're certainly curious enough about the east," Cordelia answers mildly. "Don't know why you would be, though. Oh, Rangers know plenty of the wilds, but getting them to talk is quite another matter. Sneaky, they are--never trust one, if you'll take my advice. So..if you wanted to go east. Don't go alone. Go in a group. Make sure you are well armed. And don't try to cross the High Pass after October. Summer or nothing. Beyond that...there is a small village. A very dark woods." She shivers. "And then on the other side, my home."
Brev's lips twitch briefly at the mention of sneaky rangers, but he manages to remain silent whilst Cordelia continues. "Your home," he repeats flatly. "Are they men like us? Like my folk? Or are they kin to the Forgoil?" A moment, only, he watches the woman, then he shrugs. "No matter. Time enough for questions like that when we've decided if we can trust each other, eh? I'll go and see about that drink. Got some Breelands coin, I did work for that little fat creature that helps run the Inn ..."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Nob, yes," Cordelia grins briefly. She watches Brev go to buy drink for a moment, then busies herself refolding her cloak.
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: Thu Jun 18 09:30:07 2009
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: moderate
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Late Morning
IC date is: Monday, Day 19 of March in the year 3047.
===============================================================================
[Cordelia(#24827)]
Morning is nearly spent on this mid-March day, though the sun seems weak, competing as it is with fierce winds driving wispy white clouds across the pale blue sky. Folks in this village are going about their business, but whatever the dark-haired Cordelia's business amounts to, at the moment she is not doing it. Instead, she is approaching the encampment of strangers from Dunland, her gry cloak whipping about her legs as the wind charges through.
The strangers are keeping themselves to themselves, with only a few of them visible to the casual observer. The rest may be within the little cluster of grey tents, or off somewhere in the wilderness - who knows? Currently one figure is hunched over a cookfire, another watches the village warily, a third ... ah. That figure glances up at the approaching Cordelia, murmurs something to a companion and steps out from the encampment on a course that will intersect the woman's. It is the man Brev. He eyes the woman warily, then calls out, "Morning. Whether it's good depends on whether you're with or without dagger?" His lips twist in a wry smirk.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I _always_ carry a dagger, sir," Cordelia shrugs. "We live in dangerous times and one can never tell when some dark stranger will step out of the bushes and threaten. But usually...as in now...I carry it sheathed. I wish only to talk--I don't have my friend's quick temper." Nevertheless, she looks warily around the camp before eyeing Brev again.
"Fair enough," Brev responds, and then his lips twitch. "And I didn't threaten. The woman pulled a knife on me - what was I supposed to do, offer my throat to be slit?" He snorts. "If you want to talk, then talk. Somewhere other than here, if you wish, given /my/ friends seem to bother you."
From within the camp, the woman is watched, no more - given she does not share Muirgheal's unfortunate colouring, there is no particular hostility toward her.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "Your friends don't bother me--as long as they don't bother me, if you take my meaning," Cordelia shrugs, then extends a hand. "I'm Cordelia. Sort of from around here," she says, though the smile she gives with that might mean otherwise. "And you?"
Brev eyes the outthrust hand blankly for a moment, then perhaps remembers some behaviour he's seen in the Breelands, for he grasps it in his own and briefly shakes it. His hand is calloused and roughened in places, with a couple of old splinters stuck in the skin - a worker's hand, surely?
"Brev. Not from around here." State the obvious. "So then - what was it you wanted to talk about? Since I'm assuming it's not an offer to show those interesting scars of yours." He gives another of those irritating smirks.
[Cordelia(#24827)] Cordlia laughs at that, the woman far more relaxed than when they first met hte other day. "News. If you are from Dunland, as Muirgheal said, then I would like to know of news of the south..and lands east. It seems you folk are always at war?"
Brev reclaims his hand and eyes Cordelia speculatively, brows lifting at her final words. "Who told you that? Weren't any wars at the time I left - course, that was last autumn." And Dunland, whatever else, does not have a reputation for stability. "What exactly was it you wanted to know? You're not from down there yourself, you look ... different." This with a glance at her eyes. "Don't worry - suits you," he adds with a swift grin before any suspicions of racial hatred can surface. "But I don't have time for a history lesson. I could talk till past sundown about Dunland and the clans and you'd still be none the wiser."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
Cordelia puts up a placating hand. "Just a guess, Brev from not aroudn here. Just a guess. So your folk don't harrass the Rohirrim still? That's what I meant, of course."
"As for my looks and my origins....well, folk make assumptions, don't they? But you didn't seem to be startled by my looks at all, and so I thought perhaps things could go smooth between us."
Brev's brow lifts a little further, then drops smoothly down to join its neighbour, his expression bland. "What would a mere boy such as myself know of such things? Young and untried as I am ..." His voice is mocking. A little later, though, he adds, "Last time I saw someone who looked like /her/, we were wrestling spears with each other whilst his fellows killed three of my comrades. Does that answer your question? About wars and assumptions?"
"Of course," he adds after a pause, "you could always tell me a little about yourself. Then I'd not have to bother with more assumptions."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I could...and so fulfill your curiousity, but then what would I get out of it?" Cordelia offers in reply. "It seems to me you have little news to tell. Now...if you had something to offer me...well, say, if your traveling group was heading somewhere that I might want to go to as well, then I might tell you more. For I do wish to visit my mother, who lives east of here, but hte journey is perilous. My mother was from here originally--from Bree. My father..." she smiles, "was not."
Brev listens to the words - and sees the smile. His lips twist as though in some private amusement as he continues to watch Cordelia steadily. At last he says, "All comes down to trust, doesn't it? There's little point in me giving you information about Dunland and its affairs for you to pass to your Forgoil friend back there. And I suspect you have reasons of your own to keep quiet about yourself. Most folk do. But," and there he pauses, "this much I will say. We're not here to start a war - not even with the likes of you're friend We're simply here to look for kin. Ca- our leader," he catches himself quickly, "came across some information that led us to believe there might be kin to us living in this parts. Or elsewhere. East, you said?" This time his frown is speculative, not judgemental.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Oh...east...Buhr Mahrling, if you've heard of it," Cordelia says, droppnig the name casually. "My father was from there. And yes, trust is a thing, isn't it. But you say your..leader.." she smiles briefly, "seeks kin out here? Whereabouts? 'Out here' covers an awfully big area. And travel is dangerous."
Brev's expression does not change at the mention of the foreign name, but perhaps his very lack of reaction is clue to his lack of recognition. He blinks at the query. "Aye, travel is dangerous," he agrees, with a sigh. "But if any can withstand the dangers, /he/ can. He's .. men follow him." He shrugs at the explanation, almost as though embarrassed. "As to the where - we were hoping folk hereabouts would tell us of other communities. Looks like you folk are pretty settled, but maybe there's others who are less so? Folk who might share common interest with Dunland ..." The words trail off with a smile.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"There's Bree...and Archet. But I know those towns fairly well--I've been living there for several years. And I've never found anyone with a special interest in Dunland," Cordelia says, shaking her head. "Why did Muirgheal get so upset when you said you were looking for her friend? Odd person, Uannve. Doesn't ever speak much--she just lurks about, at least the few times I've seen her."
"Bree?" Brev snorts. "Kiern, I hope you don't take us for kin to those rabbit-men! I pity young Gidon."
At the other question, though, he eyes her coolly. "You tell me. That was the point where she started waving a dagger around, eh? Just as well she's all mouth and no- uh." His Common fails him at that point, probably just as well.
He pauses, then states levelly, "You know Uannve, too? Then when you see her, tell her this. I don't care how many men she's killed. Or what business she and her friend are mixed up in, I don't want to know. I just want to know what happened to my father. If they parted ways amicably, she has nothing to fear. If not ..."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Gidon? Who is Gidon and what does he have to do with Bree?" Cordelia syas, peering more closely at the Dunlander. "And yes, that was when she got upset, but I just told you--I've never even talked to Uannve. She just runs away into the forest when she sees me. Lurks about Muirgheal when she can, but never talks to anyone else."
"What happened to your father? Is she to blame?"
"A lad," Brev answers the first question. "He's from round there. No danger to you or anyone round here. He knows nothing of Dunland, or of Forgoil - but while he's with us, he's under my protection. Might want to think about that before anyone maltreats him." His mouth tightens, perhaps in response to Cordelia's peering.
The other query takes more thought. The man is silent a moment, expression distant, then says at last. "He disappeared, six - no, maybe seven - years ago. They were last seen in Dunland together ... just before Uannve murdered some fellow. Or maybe he lived, never did get the straight tale on that one."
[Cordelia(#24827)] "And now who is making the assumption that I would maltreat anyone, much less a boy," Cordelia snorts. "If he is from Bree or so, how did he fall in with your group?"
"And is that what brought you up so far north?" she asks, seeming to somehow be familiar with the land--an unusual thing for the normally isolated Breefolk. "Seeking knowledge of what happened to your father?"
"Didn't say you, did I?" Brev's mouth twitches, and then he actually grins at the dark-haired woman, though it is brief. The other question brings on a shake of the head. "Told you, we're looking for ... kin." There is a suggestive pause before that last word. "Likeminded folk. The fact mt own goals lay this way was just a bonus."
He gives the woman a lopsided smirk, then announces briskly, "That's enough questions for one day. Must have got your money's worth by now, eh? Next time it'll be my turn. Now, though ... I'd best go. Someone made the mistake of putting Rathos on cooking duty." Another of those smirks, and he turns away, back toward the circle of tents.
A few days later ...
It is midmorning, and the March winds are strong though the clouds have abated. The Shepherding village is bathed in pale yellow sunshine. It is, for the most part, quiet - the bulk of the men are in the fields, the women in their houses, and the near-empty space behind the gates is left mainly to scuffling children or that drunken oldster slouched against a wall droning something unintelligible under his breath.
One other is there, though, and he lingers near the rather odd-looking contraption of wood and iron that sits hunched like some great beast waiting to spring. Brev it is, his dark curls clearly visible, for he has long since abandoned any attempt to stop the wind snatching at his cloak. One hand clutches a roughened piece of vellum, the other a stick of charcoal, and he appears to be sketching. Every now and then he breaks off to pace beside the wooden monstrosity.
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Good morning." The wind tears at Cordelia's voice, making it weak sounding as the young woman walks toward Brev. "You slept well, I trust? No marauding villagers attacking you in the night? No rabid Forgoils?"
Brev starts at the sound of the voice, and he hastily tucks the piece of vellum somewhere beneath his cloak. "Good morning - Cordella?" He pulls a face as he attempts the name, and comments, lips twitching, "You really should choose something easier to call yourself. Something nice and short, like mine. And it was unsettlingly quiet. Not used to all this lack of trouble." The twitching becomes a full-blown smirk.
"But enough of the questions - reckon it's my turn to ask those. Since I answered your so dutifully ..."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Cordy if you'd like. But only folks who know me call me that," the girl answers. A slight smile crosses her lips. "I will answer your questions as fully as you answered mine, sir."
Brev raises a brow. "Cordy," he repeats, blandly. "Does that mean if I use the name I get to know you?" There is a flash of a grin, whether at his query or at the rest of her words it's hard to say. "In other words, up hill and down dale and never quite arriving at the answer? Fair enough. Item one - is there somewhere out of this damn wind?" His cloak is billowing out behind him, and one hand has to clutch at it to keep his precious sketch safe.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "We shall see, we shall see," Cordelia says, waving a hand to Brev's statements. "The gathering house. Follow me," she says, indicating so with her hand as well. "What are you writing or drawing? And do you know how to read and write?"
Brev, not pursuing the matter further, follows. At Cordelia's question he snorts, loudly. "Not me. Never saw the point of all those dots and lines. Got a friend, who does, though. I was just making a sketch of that thing back there. Looks quite a contraption. Folk would think twice about assaulting the man who had one of those things ." He grins, not quite as pleasantly as before. "Seen one of them in action?"
[Cordelia(#24827)] "Well..." Cordelia hesitates, clearly reluctant to answer. "I think it's just something that some of the villagers are trying to put together. More fearsome than it looks. So...where are you going to look for your kin?"
Brev notes the reluctance, a flicker of amusement in his amber eyes as he draws his own conclusion. "Looks good to me," he comments. "Not that I'd have the skills to build one of the wretched things - not /that/ good a carpenter. But someone might."
At the other words, he stops, chuckling. "Thought it was my turn to ask the questions. You'll just have to listen, and guess your answers from those. So. What can you tell me about the lands north of here - and east." This last might be added as an afterthought, and he watches the woman to see if her expression changes.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "If you are going to ask questions, then just ask. Don't tell me you will and then say nothing," Cordelia shrugs. They arrive at the gathering house and she tugs open the door. "It's one thing to build a contraption. Quite another to get it to work." She steps inside without waiting. A fire is going and a number of villagers are tending to it, cooking, eating, or doing other chores.
"North of here?" Cordelia 'hmphs' and shakes her head. "Nothing but wasteland. A few Rangers who hunt it, I suppose, but it's a barren land with nothing of use to it."
Brev mirrors the shrug with one of his own, then follows the woman inside the Gathering-House, pushing his cloak back as the warmth hits. "Nothing there? No ruins?" His gaze is sharp suddenly.
[Cordelia(#24827)] "Ruins? Of course there must be ruins," Cordelia answers, leading them toward an empty table and sitting after she takes off her cloak and places it on the bench next to her. "You think your kinsman would take to ruins?"
"As for east...well, provided the trolls do not eat you, the elves might. But if you get through that, then there are mountains," she explains, appearing to be all-too familiar with the passage.
Brev follows, tugging off his own cloak and folding it carefully so as not to crease the sketch tucked somewhere within. Beneath it, he is clad in jerkin and trews of leather, as though he expected trouble. "I'll stand you a drink if they'll take my coin," he offers, magnanimously. "Otherwise you're on your own. Suppose I ought to see if anyone needs some jobs done." He sighs at the thought of it.
The other topic is likely what brings a frown to his brow. "No, I don't think my folk would take to ruins. We were hoping to find /men/, but if not ... perhaps we can find some traces of their passing." He sighs heavily. "And ruins is what someone mentioned." Moment of reflection over, he shrugs and changes the topic. "I'd like to hear more of the road east. And the mountains."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"I suppose it depends on what kind of metal your coin is made of," Cordelia shrugs. "If it's valuable to them, they will take it--they're well used to travelers here. But more than likely, you will have to work to earn your keep. I'm only here as Muirgheal's guest. But it's nearly time that ended," she adds aftera moment's hesitation.
"East." Cordelia frowns and eyes Brev carefully. "Why do you want to go east? There are trolls--have you ever seen a troll? And elves...I can't decide which is worse. And Rangers...interfering hunters who put their nose in everyone's business. Beyond that...mountains. A very cold and treacherous path, with orcs waiting to make you into a meal. I could go on. There is more.."
Brev gives Cordelia a sidelong glance at her mention of ceasing to be Muirgheal's guest, though he carefully avoids commenting on that topic. He returns her careful glance with one of his own, his features bland. "Did I say I wanted to go east?" There is an undercurrent of amusement in his tone. "And I'd very much like to meet one of these mythical rangers. If they know as much of the Wild as folk say .. But let us suppose for the moment I did want to go east. Do go on."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"You're certainly curious enough about the east," Cordelia answers mildly. "Don't know why you would be, though. Oh, Rangers know plenty of the wilds, but getting them to talk is quite another matter. Sneaky, they are--never trust one, if you'll take my advice. So..if you wanted to go east. Don't go alone. Go in a group. Make sure you are well armed. And don't try to cross the High Pass after October. Summer or nothing. Beyond that...there is a small village. A very dark woods." She shivers. "And then on the other side, my home."
Brev's lips twitch briefly at the mention of sneaky rangers, but he manages to remain silent whilst Cordelia continues. "Your home," he repeats flatly. "Are they men like us? Like my folk? Or are they kin to the Forgoil?" A moment, only, he watches the woman, then he shrugs. "No matter. Time enough for questions like that when we've decided if we can trust each other, eh? I'll go and see about that drink. Got some Breelands coin, I did work for that little fat creature that helps run the Inn ..."
[Cordelia(#24827)]
"Nob, yes," Cordelia grins briefly. She watches Brev go to buy drink for a moment, then busies herself refolding her cloak.
Players: Cordelia, Brev
Located in: Dunlending | Mordain
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