Trespassers no more
A tale freshly told of the Dunlending
The young Faol representative visits the travellers and seems minded to gain answers by force - until Saffron steps in.
Old South Road - Dunland <
Grasses wave in ceaseless motion, whispering and rustling, and between them the broad ribbon of beaten earth that is the road stretches away into the darkness. A sudden disturbance in the grasses nearby hints at the passage of some nocturnal animal, and away to the east you hear the harsh cry of some winged hunter, a reminder that the jagged spires of the Misty Mountains lie in that direction.
Obvious exits:
SouthEast leads to Old South Road - Dunland <
North leads to Old South Road - Dunland <
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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
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Real Time is: Thu Apr 02 23:50:17 2009
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: moderate
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Dawn
IC date is: Trewsday, Day 1 of August in the year 3046.
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Another dawn, but this time a fair one. Tattered fingers of cloud grope westward from the Misty Mountains, but behind them a red sun pushes its way into view, struggling against the jagged teeth of the peaks. For a day the Hawk camp has been under scrutiny from the Wulf - their guardsmen have remained mostly at a distance, but have made little attempt to conceal their presence. Quite why the Faols should waste so much manpower on a rag-tag bag of travellers is anyone\'s guess.
Perhaps the question will be answered now, for across the plain comes the young, slight rider of the previous morn, once more clad in ring-corselet and polished half-helm, and with a bow across the knees and a quiver of arrows slung at the saddle. This time, however, the rider is accompanied by half a dozen men cloaked in grey-green, each with a brass cloak-pin depicting the Faol crest of two tumbling wolves.
[Carac(#32384)] Waiting for them is one of the group, the others seeming to have vanished into thin air, but no doubt around somewhere. The one who waits sits legs crossed in the open fields, seemingly without a care. No weapons at hand or at least in sight, Carac watches as the band of Wulf approach, neither rising nor speaking to greet them.
The grey-dappled mare snorts and slows her steps at sight and scent of the seated figure, and the rider\'s haughty head dips to stare at him (at least, the helm dips. One assumes its wearer is staring). \"So, stranger. Are you now willing to give an accounting without the threats? We should talk. Yourself. And .. hmm, shall we say two others. Including the woman,\" the rider adds, seemingly in afterthought, though the helmed head turns as though hidden eyes sought out Saffron within the camp\'s confines. \"Lay aside your arms and I will lay aside mine.\" The voice is distorted by the helm, but is not low pitched. A light tenor, one might guess.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac holds out his hands to show they are empty. \"If you wish to talk you can talk to me,\" he says. \"The others are of no intrest to you. You can go and try and bring them if you wish, but as I\'m sure you\'ve heard the Hawk have long been known for their ability to disappear into their surroundings. So, we can talk or you can spend the day chasing shadows through your fields. The choice is your\'s but in the end you will still get nothing of value from us. As I told you we have nothing of value, and that won\'t change.\"
He remains seated, and seemingly unconcerned. \"Kill me if that will make you feel less threatened, or let me go, or take me captive and parade me around to the other Wulf to show how you are able to capture travelers.\"
The young rider had slid the bow out of the way in preparation for dismounting - now, however, the motion halts. \"You are wrong. The woman and the man with the axe had something very much of value to me, something you apparently do not. A willingness to engage in reasoned discussion. I ask again, shall we talk? Or shall I simply retain you here to await the Fian\'s pleasure?\"
[Carac(#32384)] Still seated Carac places his hands on the ground and leans back casually as he glances towards the sun. \"I\'ve no where to be,\" he says. \"Keep me as long as you wish, but you\'ll not find the others. No matter how much you think you might.\"
That brings a sharp bark of laughter. \"Fool. My men have ringed this area since yester-dawn. Do you think the Wulf blind? Very well, then.\" The young rider turns to the waiting men. \"Bring this one back to Dingadarn until he can give some accounting of his reasons for being here. The Faol do not take kindly to threats. The rest of them, who have made no threats, may go. Ask the woman where they are headed and escort them to the border.\"
[Saffron(#15443)]
\"Just tell us what you want. You say you want to talk, so talk.\" Saffron says impatiently.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac rises and gives the one told to escort him a smile. \"Let\'s be off then,\" he says dusting the dirt from his clothes.
Then it is that Saffron appears. Once more the young rider holds up a hand. \"Wait.\" The inscrutable gaze bends on the woman. \"Are you, then,\" there is a slight emphasis on the \'you\', willing to speak for this group? Without resorting to threats?\"
Carac is ignored - by the rider, at least. The man who had stepped forward to \'escort\' him returns the smile with a somewhat confused look. Are prisoners supposed to smile?
[Saffron(#15443)]
Clutching the shawl tighter around herself, Saffron nods. \"We went to bury the remains of two people in my village who were slaughtered in a way most heinous, in the land of the Forgoil. Our elders said that would lay any curse to rest.\"
The dawn sun falls on a tableau before the Hawk camp. The young rider of the previous day, still a-horse but with bow set aside, speaks with Saffron. Alongside them one of the half-dozen accompanying footmen has approached Carac the rest cluster uneasily behind the rider.
The young rider\'s helmed head dips in a nod at Saffron\'s words, and lets out some murmur that sounds rather like \'rank superstition\'. Not so the accompanying men - they are set to muttering, and more than one makes the sign of the Evil Eye.
\"I believe my men wish to know if your quest was accomplished,\" the young, slight rider remarks, once more to Saffron. \"So - you are Hawk, this one said.\" A nod, not a look, toward Carac himself. \"And you wish to return to your own lands. Why threaten war with the Faol?\"
The man supposed to be \'escorting\' Carac has made no further move toward him. What if he\'s facing a sorcerer? He twitches like a nervous horse.
[Carac(#32384)] \"What you were told was true,\" Carac says speaking once more. \"We are now escorting our kinswoman back to Harthunn as we told you, now that she has accomplished her task. We are coming from Crebain.\" He looks towards the men making the sign of the Evil Eye. \"You can see from your men\'s reactions why we did not tell of the task that brought us south in the first place.\"
He takes a deep breath then and sighs. \"We threatened because of what you have not yet heard,\" he says. \"I am Carac Bryntadd,\" he says. \"The leader of those who burned Kierkgard, the outlaw who plagues Caerdh, there are many who would wish us harm just because of that. We are not looking for trouble, but how could we know that you are not? The Hawk hold no ill will towards the Wulf, it was in fact the Hawk who put down Brodie of the Bear when he was raiding your holds and farms. If we are pressed to fight to get back to our homes, however, we will do so. That is not a threat, just the way of man. Would not you if in a strange land and accosted by possible thieves or worse, make threats to keep those in your charge safe?\"
The armsman who is fronting Carac has been stirring uneasily through the man\'s speech now, as it ends, he bursts out, \"I\'d say we\'ve heard enough, my Lady. What if he can make himself invisi-\"
\"Enough!\" That single sharp word from the rider cuts across his grumbling speech like a whiplash, but it is too late. The damage is done. The horse sidesteps, that the young rider may turn her gaze on Carac. \"No,\" she answers quietly. \"I would not.\" And then once more she looks on Saffron, whom she clearly finds easier to understand. \"The Faol are enemies of none save the Forgoil, and I would prefer to build on commonalities. Hawk, you claim. Then the Bear is of concern to both of us. Perhaps some accord of neutrality can be reached?\"
[Carac(#32384)] \"I would rather reach an accord of alliance if possible,\" Carac speaks up once more. \"Against the forgoil for sure as their destruction should be the desire and goal of Dunland, be they Wulf, Hawk, or Bear. I will not ask you to join in our fight against the Bear, but should they once again turn their arms against the Wulf, the Hawk will do what we can to assist you as we cannot allow them to gain any foothold outside of Caerdh.\"
[Rathos(#19023)]
Meanwhile, Rathos sits calmly to one side, whittling a small stick into oblivion. A small pile of wood shavings is growing at his feet. He watches and listens as the arguments are made back and forth, occasionaly cracking a smile or shaking his head.
Finaly the woodsman, having slowly decimated his stick, tucks his inch-long skinning knife back into his belt buckle and gets to his feet. He begins to walk towards Saffron, his stride easy and relaxed, hands on hips. Although he is still a few feet away he manages to catch the general gist of the Lady Faol\'s words. Rathos quietly enquires, \"ye seem to be making friends then? Any chance ye could make some pleastries so we\'s can be on our way?\" He turns to the assembled Wulf and non-chalantly assures them that he is, \"just checking.\" The wood cutters distaste for internal politics becoming obvious
[Saffron(#15443)]
There is clearly confusion on her face as Saffron tries to follow the conversation, to no avail. \"I do not understand such things as alliances. But if I\'ve offended you by riding through your lands, then I\'m sorry. We were mindful and respectful of the land, is all I can say. We are in a hurry because I have sick children and the elderly to tend to, back at the village. No doubt there\'s bones to set, wounds to stitch up. I\'m no learned healer but I\'m all they\'ve got.\"
An accord, then,\" the young, slight rider agrees to Carac. \"Faol will not attack the Hawk, nor assist the Bear in such endeavour. I hope that, in time, such agreement will broaden.\"
Turning to Rathos, she remarks coolly, \"The pleasantries might have been dealt with a little earlier had all been equally willing to make them. But your people may indeed be on your way, good man. My men will escort them to our border - north, I assume?\" The final query is left hanging as she turns her gaze on Saffron. \"The apology is accepted,\" she declares regally. \"I thank you for your candour, and I wish you well in your village. If you ever come back to these lands, you,\" there is an emphasis on the personal pronoun, clearly she is speaking to one and not to all, \"would be most welcome to visit. I would be interested to hear of your travels.\" For a moment the sharp tones turn wistful. \'Lady Faol\', bound by convention in her own lands, has clearly seen little of the world beyond her borders.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac does not speak but gives a nod. He moves then towards Rathos and picks up his mace and longbow from where the lie near the woodsman. \"I\'ll be glad once we put Redvyrne behind us,\" he says softly. \"Wulf have always been a bit too prickly for my taste.\"
[Saffron(#15443)]
\"Saffron. My name is Saffron.\" The woman with the shawl introduces herself as they depart.
\"And if you asked me a year ago, I would have never even dreamed that I would see anything but the inside of a hen house, let alone outside the walls of Kierkgard, and beyond. Life has a way of surprising us. Farewell, Lady Faol.\"
She falls in place with the rest of the Hawk group as they resume their march towards Harthuun.
[Rathos(#19023)]
Rathos smiles broadly, waves a farewell then turns, following a few steps behind Carac. \"true words spoken there.\" The woodsman continues in soft tones, least he receive an arrow in return for his candour. \"Still, the women seem freindly enough. Last tramp I encountered robbed blind during the night. At least that one let me keep my shirt.\"