Elendor
In search of the past: A forest spirit?
Brev's mysterious obsession with the Chetwood brings three Dunlendings face-to-face with Giliath.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: The Chetwood: Waterfall
Game Date: February 3047
IC Time: Morning
Description: The Chetwood: Waterfall
A small stream cascades in a waterfall down among washed stones before collecting into a small pool. The waterfall is no more than ten to twelve feet high, with the landscape rising in a jumble of rocks to reach it. At the waterfall's base, the pool is ringed by small plants, their green leaves leaning out over the water. Set back from the smaller plants are larger trees, their roots running down and into the water, through the shrubbery. The stream that feeds the falls vanishes into the wood to the west. A small animal track that leads to the water, also leads away westward. It is in that direction that the country rises up from the pool.
================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Sun Jun 07 15:51:10 2009
Bree time: Dawn <06:33:30> on Hevensday of Winter - February 16,1447
Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon
Breelands Weather
The dawn winter air is cold and dry around you. Moist snow, perfect for snowballs, falls down from the sky. The moon is above the horizon and in its waxing crescent phase.
===============================================================================
Winter still holds the Breelands fast within its grip. Soft flakes of snow are beginning to fall from the sky to add to the piled whiteness underfoot, threatening to obliterate the myriad tracks of bird and beast that criss-cross the woodlands. Soon, perhaps ... but not yet. The prints of small, cloven hooves lead along the banks of the stream, likely made by some small deer, and following them ...
Brev moves quietly through the snow, treading softly that his footfalls may not cause undue disturbance. He is wrapped in his old dun cloak as usual, and in his right hand he carries a long spear, carefully balanced as he eases between the tree-trunks. His attention would seem to be only half for the trail he follows, however as he nears the waterfall, he halts, frowning, and his gaze goes to the treetops. Almost as though he expected something - or someone?
[Giliath(#9838)] There is no one in the treetops. But a little further on, enigmatic eyes watch the man from a branch lower down. Giliath also wears a cloak - it seems to be grey - and almost blends into the bark of the tree he rests against. He is sitting on one large limb, 10 feet or so above the ground, his back against the trunk.
[Carac(#32384)] Several yards behind the first cloaked figure a second pair follow, attempting to be silent as they move. The larger of the two stops as the figure they trail comes to a halt. "He's just ahead," he whispers to the smaller figure at his side. "Just curious as to what's been pulling him out here of late," he continues and then turns back towards Brev, up ahead.
[Saffron(#15443)]
"Have you thought to just ask him, instead of trailing him like we are stalking a runaway goat?"
The smaller figure is a woman, though it may pain some to call her feminine.
Saffron ponders her own words, then nods decidedly. "You are right. He would never tell if you asked." She too squints ahead with curiosity as she tries to follow as quietly as she can.
Brev does not appear to find what he seeks within the trees, for a soft sigh escapes his lips. He hesitates, then carefully sets his spear down on the ground. Surely an odd thing to do, when one seeks a quarry?
Somewhere nearby, a branch weighed down by snow sheds its load with a soft 'plop', and he turns his head, striving to see in that direction. "Collwen?" he calls softly.
His shadows remain either unseen or unacknowledged (one suspects the former) for now.
[Giliath(#9838)] The elf's eyes lift, pinpointing the two who follow, then drop to Brev once more. But he doesn't move, not when the man stops, not when he sets his spear down - not until he calls a name. Then quiet oddly-accented words break the silence. "She is not here."
[Carac(#32384)] "Oh he may have told," Carac replies to Saffron with a grin. "However, it is more fun this way." He turns back towards Brev and cocks an ear as he tries to hear the name the younger man calls.
"What is this?" he asks as the sound of a second voice reaches him. Then with a wave for Saffron to follow he begins to move forward towards Brev, no longer attempting to conceal his presence.
[Saffron(#15443)]
An alert hand goes to the hilt of her weapon on instinct, but a happy chittering of a nearby critter takes the edge off her nerves and Saffron once again relaxes. She takes normal steps now, following Carac.
Brev's head turns sharply, in the direction of the voice. "Then who?" A moment later a soft exclamation follows. "Kiern!" He drops to his knees in the snow, his head bent forward, and he appears to be shivering slightly. His hand reaches toward his spear - old habits die hard - but with an effort he clenches his fist and does not touch it.
Thus it is that Carac and Saffron find him, and at their approach he springs up, gesturing wordlessly to the trees ahead. There is fear in his amber eyes.
[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath watches Brev, puzzlement in his dark eyes, a slight perplexed wrinkle between black eyebrows. "You are not.." he begins to say, but the man is up again, and the others have come. His face smoothes, and he says something liquid and melodious, then the heavier, slower words in common. "Well met."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks from Brev and then towards the direction of the voice. Aprrehension and alarm evident in his shoulders and eyes as the strange voice sounds once more. "Forest spirit?" he asks softly as he moves towards Brev. His eyes look towards the sound of the voice once more, traveling upwards this time as they move. Slowly as he searches he moves to put himself between Saffron and the speaker.
[Saffron(#15443)]
Not particularly a tall person, Saffron pokes her head from behind Carac's arm, her view suddenly blocked.
"I am sure someone hostile wouldn't have the decency to greet us like that. Would you?" She asks out loud.
Her gaze next goes to the curly haired lad on his knees. "Brev? What in the name of my first born rooster are you doing?"
Brev answers the owner of the melodious voice not in Common but with a quiet phrase in Dunael. "Good day ... Lord." How does one address a deity?
He lets the soft murmur of the stream and the quiet rustlings of small animals for a moment, then murmurs quietly, almost desparately, to Carac and Saffron, "I don't know. The woman - she said .. older than the trees, older than the sun. What if - he's Kiern? I've never really bothered with prayers and ceremonies and suchlike ..." He flushes. At the question from sensible, practical Saffron, he twists round to look at her, shaking his head a little. "Saffron - I've seen. They can do things."
[Giliath(#9838)] Watchful, interested, Giliath's dark eyes move from one human to the next, saying nothing until he is addressed. "I mean you no harm," he tells the slight woman.
When the first man speaks clearly to him, he inclines his head, acknowledging the words he does not understand. He does not appear to be armed, but then a few minutes ago, he did not appear to be there.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks at the strange figure and a strange mixture of emotions pass through his eyes, fascination, fear, awe, and disgust all battle for control. Finally he tears his eyes away and looks towards Brev.
" It is not Kiern," he says. "It is one of the forest spirits Ruz'anna told of. They are tricksters, and deceivers who enchant men and women and steal babes in the night," he continues. " They are not to be trusted, watch it carefully," he adds.
When he turns back towards the 'spirit', he nods slowly in greeting.
[Saffron(#15443)]
(missing pose here?)
Yet it is with caution that she speaks in common. "I am Saffron from Dunland. Who might you be?"
A swift-changing welter of emotions flickers across Brev's swarthy features. Fear, doubt, thoughtfulness ... at one point of Carac's however, he shakes his head. "This one I do not know - but Collwen is not evil. Of that I am sure."
Saffron's reassurance does not seem as reassuring as it might, for he actually opens his lips to speak - and then shuts them again, the words unsaid. Hard on the heels of her query to the being they face, he adds one of his own, in singsong common: "Are you Collwen's husband? She said you knew of the lands to the east." This time he manages to stand straight, outward signs of fear hidden.
[Giliath(#9838)] The 'forest spirit' listens to the unknown words with the same care that he might listen to snow falling, or the stream beneath him: a sifting for intent beneath sound. But when Saffron addresses him in Common once more, he replies politely. "When I awoke, I named myself Giliath. You may call me that."
And to Brev, with the same listening attitude, "Yes. I have come from there..." A pause, and perhaps he is thinking. Or lost in memories. Or just has forgotten momentarily that they are there. "...recently."
The elf stirs, then leaps lightly to the ground, to stand easily atop a snow bank that curls over the edge of the stream. Though he is lightly dressed, save for the cloak, he doesn't seem bothered by the cold or even to notice it.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac's distrust seems to grow as the snow seems undisturbed by Giliath's weight. " You see," he says jerking his head towards the snowbank. " They are different, do not trust what is different." His hand momentarily strays towards the bow slung on his shoulder, but jerking it back he folds both arms across his chest.
"You will tell us what you know of these lands?" he asks.
[Saffron(#15443)]
For some reason, the 'forest spirit's answer struck her as funny, for her mouth twitches, followed by a soft spray of laughter.
"My batty aunt said the same thing when she woke up every morning," Saffron says, stepping forward, curious but still cautious. She stares openly at the stranger, neverminding how rude that may be.
"Though you do not look quite as old as she. Her face made the bark of that tree you slept in look like a baby's bottom by comparison."
Realizing that this person may be of some importance, she holds her tongue, letting him answer Carac's question.
Brev frowns at Giliath's chosen words of introduction. Might this being have a different name yesterday? Or tomorrow? He shows no surprise at that impossible leap rather, he focuses on the speech. Carac's warning is met by a nod, Saffron's first words by a twitch of the lips, though as she goes on his features sober rapidly and he shoots the woman a sharp glance. "Looks can be deceiving," he murmurs quietly in her direction.
To Giliath he says nothing at all, merely lets his gaze continue to rest on the elf. Clearly Carac's question is of import to all three Dunlendings.
[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath tips his head a little, following the aborted movement towards a bow. For an instant, if anyone was watching closely, he might seem more dangerous, less fay. He ponders all of them, though his eyes linger on Brev the longest and the sharpest. "Why?" he asks at last, simply. Why do you wish to know, why do you go there, why is the sky blue...
A glimmer brightens his gaze as it moves to Saffron. "I am told so," he answers, "by many humans. But I am glad, I think, that my face does not look like the bark of a tree."
Snowflakes are drifting down from the grey morning sky, falling on the trio of humans that stand by the stream, falling on the being they face...
Brev, meeting Giliath's gaze for one brief moment before he has to look away, answers swifly, without giving Carac a chance to, "I have already told Collwen that I wish to go east to seek for my father. Perhaps she does not understand."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks at Brev. " Of course it did not understand," he says in a matter of fact tone. " Spirits do not have fathers, they are spawned by broken oaths and dark magic."
To Giliath he says. "We search. For a friend." His tone implying he doubts the creature knows the meaning of friend, either.
[Caelwen(#24844)]
Somewhere in the distance, behind Giliath, there is an incongruous bit of color moving through the trees. Coppery-colored, but much taller than a fox and moving closer in silence.
[Saffron(#15443)]
The bit of color is enough to catch Saffron's attention. Her gaze shifts quickly from the calm spawn of dark magic to the silent fleeting of color that approaches. She makes a sharp hissing sound, which can be interpreted as a warning call to others, or ridding the yard of an unwanted dog.
[Giliath(#9838)] A single glance, bright as the edge of a sword, crosses Carac's, and then Giliath ignores the man entirely, saying to Brev, "You also?"
Saffron's sudden noise brings his eyes snapping towards her, before they return to the dunlending man. "I will tell you what I know," he says to Brev. And possibly, he seems more tense, and more on edge, now than a moment ago.
Brev flicks Carac a quick glance. "That is what I told her," he replies evenly, pausing, then adding one more quietly, "/all/ I told her." Whatever Carac has said, it gives him pause for thought, for he frowns long and hard suddenly, though, his face clears. "Then these are not spirits. Collwen has a child."
Whatever he has said, it seems to bring him some measure of peace, for he faces Giliath now without so much fear in his gaze. "Can you tell us how to get through the troll-lands without falling foul of the creatures? And about the villages of men?"
Saffron's hissed warning brings his attention to the trees he stands stiffly, hand curling and clearly itching to lift his spear but he does not - yet.
[Caelwen(#24844)]
The color in the forest resolves itself as a woman's figure. Giliath stiffens and it is only one step later that she stops her approach. She is very fair, probably of the same race as he, and she stands half behind a tree, watching.
[Giliath(#9838)] The words come swifter, though still as though they sit strangely on the tongue that speaks them so fluently. "There is one village, it is to the south of the road. You cannot get there in one day. Do not travel in the night." He shrugs then. "Do not be foolish. Do not leave the road. Go as swiftly as you may in the light, carry little. I can tell you nothing you should not know yourself go as scouts before a war, swift and silent and wary."
He is turning away, finished with the conversation, when he throws one further bit of advice back to them. "They are not intelligent, but they have great strength. Do not fight them, you cannot win."
Brev's gaze slips toward the trees and remains there, rapt. Awe and longing mingle on his features, until he lifts a hand to rub them away. Sighing he forces his attention back to Giliath, taking on the role of spokesperson for the trio. "Trust me, I have no intention of fighting them," he responds, drily. Then comes the next question. "Can we outrun them? And how many day's journey to the village? Gidon will take us part of the way ..." He neglects to mention the fact that Gidon is probably unaware that 'I' has become 'us'.
[Caelwen(#24844)]
Caelwen's eyes are firmly on Giliath, very intense in their study. A line of anxiety has drawn between her brows. For a moment, however, they flick away to Brev, and then widen. Her slender hand lifts to cover her mouth, fingers draping over her nose.
[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath turns back, missing the man's expression. "You cannot outrun a troll. Perhaps you can out-trick them. If you are fortunate, they will be away from the road. There is... something darker, drawing them in." He considers the humans. "From here, I do not know. There is a bridge. Past that bridge, you will not arrive at the village in one day. Perhaps in two." He turns again, his cloak wrapping around him and fading with him into the woods.
Brev listens to the words quietly, no doubt commiting them to memory when Giliath is done, he nods. "Thank you," he calls toward the woods, and sighs softly, regretfully, as he kneels to pick up his spear. He pauses then, gazing into the trees, and raises a hand in silent farewell before he turns to follow his fellow Dunlendings on the trail back to Archet. Likely Brev and Carac will argue over evil spirits all the way home, unless Saffron manages to knock some sense into the pair.
The murmurings in Dunael gradually fade, and at last calm returns to the woods, and the music of the stream, and the call of birds.
A small stream cascades in a waterfall down among washed stones before collecting into a small pool. The waterfall is no more than ten to twelve feet high, with the landscape rising in a jumble of rocks to reach it. At the waterfall's base, the pool is ringed by small plants, their green leaves leaning out over the water. Set back from the smaller plants are larger trees, their roots running down and into the water, through the shrubbery. The stream that feeds the falls vanishes into the wood to the west. A small animal track that leads to the water, also leads away westward. It is in that direction that the country rises up from the pool.
================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Sun Jun 07 15:51:10 2009
Bree time: Dawn <06:33:30> on Hevensday of Winter - February 16,1447
Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon
Breelands Weather
The dawn winter air is cold and dry around you. Moist snow, perfect for snowballs, falls down from the sky. The moon is above the horizon and in its waxing crescent phase.
===============================================================================
Winter still holds the Breelands fast within its grip. Soft flakes of snow are beginning to fall from the sky to add to the piled whiteness underfoot, threatening to obliterate the myriad tracks of bird and beast that criss-cross the woodlands. Soon, perhaps ... but not yet. The prints of small, cloven hooves lead along the banks of the stream, likely made by some small deer, and following them ...
Brev moves quietly through the snow, treading softly that his footfalls may not cause undue disturbance. He is wrapped in his old dun cloak as usual, and in his right hand he carries a long spear, carefully balanced as he eases between the tree-trunks. His attention would seem to be only half for the trail he follows, however as he nears the waterfall, he halts, frowning, and his gaze goes to the treetops. Almost as though he expected something - or someone?
[Giliath(#9838)] There is no one in the treetops. But a little further on, enigmatic eyes watch the man from a branch lower down. Giliath also wears a cloak - it seems to be grey - and almost blends into the bark of the tree he rests against. He is sitting on one large limb, 10 feet or so above the ground, his back against the trunk.
[Carac(#32384)] Several yards behind the first cloaked figure a second pair follow, attempting to be silent as they move. The larger of the two stops as the figure they trail comes to a halt. "He's just ahead," he whispers to the smaller figure at his side. "Just curious as to what's been pulling him out here of late," he continues and then turns back towards Brev, up ahead.
[Saffron(#15443)]
"Have you thought to just ask him, instead of trailing him like we are stalking a runaway goat?"
The smaller figure is a woman, though it may pain some to call her feminine.
Saffron ponders her own words, then nods decidedly. "You are right. He would never tell if you asked." She too squints ahead with curiosity as she tries to follow as quietly as she can.
Brev does not appear to find what he seeks within the trees, for a soft sigh escapes his lips. He hesitates, then carefully sets his spear down on the ground. Surely an odd thing to do, when one seeks a quarry?
Somewhere nearby, a branch weighed down by snow sheds its load with a soft 'plop', and he turns his head, striving to see in that direction. "Collwen?" he calls softly.
His shadows remain either unseen or unacknowledged (one suspects the former) for now.
[Giliath(#9838)] The elf's eyes lift, pinpointing the two who follow, then drop to Brev once more. But he doesn't move, not when the man stops, not when he sets his spear down - not until he calls a name. Then quiet oddly-accented words break the silence. "She is not here."
[Carac(#32384)] "Oh he may have told," Carac replies to Saffron with a grin. "However, it is more fun this way." He turns back towards Brev and cocks an ear as he tries to hear the name the younger man calls.
"What is this?" he asks as the sound of a second voice reaches him. Then with a wave for Saffron to follow he begins to move forward towards Brev, no longer attempting to conceal his presence.
[Saffron(#15443)]
An alert hand goes to the hilt of her weapon on instinct, but a happy chittering of a nearby critter takes the edge off her nerves and Saffron once again relaxes. She takes normal steps now, following Carac.
Brev's head turns sharply, in the direction of the voice. "Then who?" A moment later a soft exclamation follows. "Kiern!" He drops to his knees in the snow, his head bent forward, and he appears to be shivering slightly. His hand reaches toward his spear - old habits die hard - but with an effort he clenches his fist and does not touch it.
Thus it is that Carac and Saffron find him, and at their approach he springs up, gesturing wordlessly to the trees ahead. There is fear in his amber eyes.
[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath watches Brev, puzzlement in his dark eyes, a slight perplexed wrinkle between black eyebrows. "You are not.." he begins to say, but the man is up again, and the others have come. His face smoothes, and he says something liquid and melodious, then the heavier, slower words in common. "Well met."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks from Brev and then towards the direction of the voice. Aprrehension and alarm evident in his shoulders and eyes as the strange voice sounds once more. "Forest spirit?" he asks softly as he moves towards Brev. His eyes look towards the sound of the voice once more, traveling upwards this time as they move. Slowly as he searches he moves to put himself between Saffron and the speaker.
[Saffron(#15443)]
Not particularly a tall person, Saffron pokes her head from behind Carac's arm, her view suddenly blocked.
"I am sure someone hostile wouldn't have the decency to greet us like that. Would you?" She asks out loud.
Her gaze next goes to the curly haired lad on his knees. "Brev? What in the name of my first born rooster are you doing?"
Brev answers the owner of the melodious voice not in Common but with a quiet phrase in Dunael. "
He lets the soft murmur of the stream and the quiet rustlings of small animals for a moment, then murmurs quietly, almost desparately, to Carac and Saffron, "
[Giliath(#9838)] Watchful, interested, Giliath's dark eyes move from one human to the next, saying nothing until he is addressed. "I mean you no harm," he tells the slight woman.
When the first man speaks clearly to him, he inclines his head, acknowledging the words he does not understand. He does not appear to be armed, but then a few minutes ago, he did not appear to be there.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks at the strange figure and a strange mixture of emotions pass through his eyes, fascination, fear, awe, and disgust all battle for control. Finally he tears his eyes away and looks towards Brev.
"
When he turns back towards the 'spirit', he nods slowly in greeting.
[Saffron(#15443)]
(missing pose here?)
Yet it is with caution that she speaks in common. "I am Saffron from Dunland. Who might you be?"
A swift-changing welter of emotions flickers across Brev's swarthy features. Fear, doubt, thoughtfulness ... at one point of Carac's however, he shakes his head. "
Saffron's reassurance does not seem as reassuring as it might, for he actually opens his lips to speak - and then shuts them again, the words unsaid. Hard on the heels of her query to the being they face, he adds one of his own, in singsong common: "Are you Collwen's husband? She said you knew of the lands to the east." This time he manages to stand straight, outward signs of fear hidden.
[Giliath(#9838)] The 'forest spirit' listens to the unknown words with the same care that he might listen to snow falling, or the stream beneath him: a sifting for intent beneath sound. But when Saffron addresses him in Common once more, he replies politely. "When I awoke, I named myself Giliath. You may call me that."
And to Brev, with the same listening attitude, "Yes. I have come from there..." A pause, and perhaps he is thinking. Or lost in memories. Or just has forgotten momentarily that they are there. "...recently."
The elf stirs, then leaps lightly to the ground, to stand easily atop a snow bank that curls over the edge of the stream. Though he is lightly dressed, save for the cloak, he doesn't seem bothered by the cold or even to notice it.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac's distrust seems to grow as the snow seems undisturbed by Giliath's weight. "
"You will tell us what you know of these lands?" he asks.
[Saffron(#15443)]
For some reason, the 'forest spirit's answer struck her as funny, for her mouth twitches, followed by a soft spray of laughter.
"My batty aunt said the same thing when she woke up every morning," Saffron says, stepping forward, curious but still cautious. She stares openly at the stranger, neverminding how rude that may be.
"Though you do not look quite as old as she. Her face made the bark of that tree you slept in look like a baby's bottom by comparison."
Realizing that this person may be of some importance, she holds her tongue, letting him answer Carac's question.
Brev frowns at Giliath's chosen words of introduction. Might this being have a different name yesterday? Or tomorrow? He shows no surprise at that impossible leap rather, he focuses on the speech. Carac's warning is met by a nod, Saffron's first words by a twitch of the lips, though as she goes on his features sober rapidly and he shoots the woman a sharp glance. "
To Giliath he says nothing at all, merely lets his gaze continue to rest on the elf. Clearly Carac's question is of import to all three Dunlendings.
[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath tips his head a little, following the aborted movement towards a bow. For an instant, if anyone was watching closely, he might seem more dangerous, less fay. He ponders all of them, though his eyes linger on Brev the longest and the sharpest. "Why?" he asks at last, simply. Why do you wish to know, why do you go there, why is the sky blue...
A glimmer brightens his gaze as it moves to Saffron. "I am told so," he answers, "by many humans. But I am glad, I think, that my face does not look like the bark of a tree."
Snowflakes are drifting down from the grey morning sky, falling on the trio of humans that stand by the stream, falling on the being they face...
Brev, meeting Giliath's gaze for one brief moment before he has to look away, answers swifly, without giving Carac a chance to, "I have already told Collwen that I wish to go east to seek for my father. Perhaps she does not understand."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks at Brev. "
To Giliath he says. "We search. For a friend." His tone implying he doubts the creature knows the meaning of friend, either.
[Caelwen(#24844)]
Somewhere in the distance, behind Giliath, there is an incongruous bit of color moving through the trees. Coppery-colored, but much taller than a fox and moving closer in silence.
[Saffron(#15443)]
The bit of color is enough to catch Saffron's attention. Her gaze shifts quickly from the calm spawn of dark magic to the silent fleeting of color that approaches. She makes a sharp hissing sound, which can be interpreted as a warning call to others, or ridding the yard of an unwanted dog.
[Giliath(#9838)] A single glance, bright as the edge of a sword, crosses Carac's, and then Giliath ignores the man entirely, saying to Brev, "You also?"
Saffron's sudden noise brings his eyes snapping towards her, before they return to the dunlending man. "I will tell you what I know," he says to Brev. And possibly, he seems more tense, and more on edge, now than a moment ago.
Brev flicks Carac a quick glance. "
Whatever he has said, it seems to bring him some measure of peace, for he faces Giliath now without so much fear in his gaze. "Can you tell us how to get through the troll-lands without falling foul of the creatures? And about the villages of men?"
Saffron's hissed warning brings his attention to the trees he stands stiffly, hand curling and clearly itching to lift his spear but he does not - yet.
[Caelwen(#24844)]
The color in the forest resolves itself as a woman's figure. Giliath stiffens and it is only one step later that she stops her approach. She is very fair, probably of the same race as he, and she stands half behind a tree, watching.
[Giliath(#9838)] The words come swifter, though still as though they sit strangely on the tongue that speaks them so fluently. "There is one village, it is to the south of the road. You cannot get there in one day. Do not travel in the night." He shrugs then. "Do not be foolish. Do not leave the road. Go as swiftly as you may in the light, carry little. I can tell you nothing you should not know yourself go as scouts before a war, swift and silent and wary."
He is turning away, finished with the conversation, when he throws one further bit of advice back to them. "They are not intelligent, but they have great strength. Do not fight them, you cannot win."
Brev's gaze slips toward the trees and remains there, rapt. Awe and longing mingle on his features, until he lifts a hand to rub them away. Sighing he forces his attention back to Giliath, taking on the role of spokesperson for the trio. "Trust me, I have no intention of fighting them," he responds, drily. Then comes the next question. "Can we outrun them? And how many day's journey to the village? Gidon will take us part of the way ..." He neglects to mention the fact that Gidon is probably unaware that 'I' has become 'us'.
[Caelwen(#24844)]
Caelwen's eyes are firmly on Giliath, very intense in their study. A line of anxiety has drawn between her brows. For a moment, however, they flick away to Brev, and then widen. Her slender hand lifts to cover her mouth, fingers draping over her nose.
[Giliath(#9838)] Giliath turns back, missing the man's expression. "You cannot outrun a troll. Perhaps you can out-trick them. If you are fortunate, they will be away from the road. There is... something darker, drawing them in." He considers the humans. "From here, I do not know. There is a bridge. Past that bridge, you will not arrive at the village in one day. Perhaps in two." He turns again, his cloak wrapping around him and fading with him into the woods.
Brev listens to the words quietly, no doubt commiting them to memory when Giliath is done, he nods. "Thank you," he calls toward the woods, and sighs softly, regretfully, as he kneels to pick up his spear. He pauses then, gazing into the trees, and raises a hand in silent farewell before he turns to follow his fellow Dunlendings on the trail back to Archet. Likely Brev and Carac will argue over evil spirits all the way home, unless Saffron manages to knock some sense into the pair.
The murmurings in Dunael gradually fade, and at last calm returns to the woods, and the music of the stream, and the call of birds.
Players: Brev, Giliath, Carac, Saffron, Caelwen
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