Not so secret seven

Fearachas

The thunderous fall mists to the south of this tiny valley hidden between the undulating folds of the surrounding hills. Life flourishes flowers, foliage and trees bursting forth to flood the ground with a rich malachite sea of colours. To the west of this hollow, a small Dunlending village squats, a model of pastoral serenity. Some thirty-over stone buildings with thatched roofs nestle in the centre of golden fields. Rising majestically about the village grounds are the Caerdh woods, hiding the village from view of most. From here, all that can be seen of the outside world are the Misty Mountains to the East and the distant stronghold of the Bears to the south.

Darkness hides all but the bass song of the falls to the south and the few pinpricks of candlelight from villagers still up late at night.

Obvious exits:

Cottage leads to Cottage.

South leads to Waterfall <>.

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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast

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Real Time is: Sun Mar 01 14:50:16 2009

IC weather is: Wind: breeze - Clouds: moderate

IC Moon is: Not visible

IC time is: Dawn

IC date is: Mersday, Day 27 of April in the year 3046.

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Dawn breaks over Fearachas. The sky is paling, a brisk breeze clearing it of clouds as quickly and efficiently as any housewife with her broom. Already the village is stirring, as men leave their homes to head to the fields for another hard day of toil - ploughing and planting, and tending the flocks. From many of the dwellings thin threads of smoke rise, indicating that the occupants are awake and preparing the morning meal.

What of the strangers in the midst? One, the woman, has already been released, whilst the others, the two men ... no-one quite seems to know. Guards remain posted outside one particular house.

Ratho steps quitely through the surrounding hills, the night sheilding his distant presence to any causal observers in the village. His bare feet navigating the loose stones and sharp twigs that inevitibly end scattered throughout the woods. Traveling with him are another half a dozen outcasts, very lightly armed and equiped. Ratho himself carries no weapon. As dawn nears Dunland, the small group near the village. The first rays of light reveal the band of men a few hundred feet out from the village. They continue onwards, using the path, making no attempt to hide themselves.

[Mainchin(#15443)]

Too old for field work, her back bent from years of carrying heavy load on her back, an old woman spreads out some freshly plucked herbs to dry at a clearing near the particular house where the guards are posted. Her ancient, shriveled up skin hugs the contours of her skull but her eyes that are sunk deep within her hollowed eyesockets seem to miss nothing.

[Carac(#32384)] Though he is a captive in all but name, Carac does not appear to be such. Seated outside the small cottage where he is being held, he watches the sunrise with seeming no concern for his current situation or to the guards flanking him to either side.

He watches as the smoke begins to rise from the homes of the villages and slowly draws himself up from the the seat.

\"Back inside before the village awakens,\" he says before the guards speak the same order as yesterday and the day before that. \"I know the routine.\"

As Ratho approaches the village, a challenge rings out. \"You are watched, strangers. State your name and business on Ranich\'s lands.\" The speaker one of the perimeter guards - aye, Fearachas has such things like any other place, in these troubled days. He and his companion, who stand flanking the road, spears in hands (though not, as yet, lowered), are the visible sign of a watch here the confidence in their attitude implies that there may be others less visible.

[Verge(#32426)]

The strange woman who has just been lead out from a well-sized cottage near the smithy shop, accompanied by a burly-looking guard, now stands off the side of a small pathway leading down towards the forest to the west. The sweet smell of pastries and other foodstuffs tickle her nostrils while she remains standing there, in an awkward stance. \"Well, finally.\" Verge forcefully tugs an arm away from the guard, and she straightens her stance, gazing towards the man. \"What ever took the Fiann so long to decide t\' release me?\" She questions the man, but receives no response other than a grunt as the guard turns around to head back to his post, his heavy footsteps beating down upon the ground. Uttering a soft \'hmmph\', the Bear woman then attempts to straighten her hair out running slim fingers through the strands. Her movements slow, though, upon hearing the warning from one of the village guards to a newcomer. She blinks, and self-consciously lifts her head up, turning towards the voice. Apparently Carac has gone unnoticed.

Ratho scratches at his face absently. A short, scruffy man to his left speaks up, \"Tis fool\'s play this errand. Best we should forget it, nay?\" Ratho turns to face the speaker, \"Nay, Vargin. Tis best ye get some iron in yer backbone. Ye know as well as anyone, without him we might as well go back to scratching rocks.\"

The seven men continue to walk towards the village, keeping quiet as they reach the outskirts. Then the challange is heard. Ratho peers about, attempts a smile and waves to the watchmen. \"We are but begger\'s, sah. Merely passing by. T\'was mentioned by me cohort in poverity that this village may offer some trade or work for hungry souls....\" The woodsman gives a pause and swallows, \"We be appleaing to ye mercy o\' course.\"

[Mainchin(#15443)]

\"Rahmmmm! Mmmmgowahhh! *click click click*\"

The old hag squints at the strangers and waves a sprig of herb, mumbling through her toothless mouth and makes odd clicking noises with her tongue.

\"Mgggwww! Mrrrrrrr.\" She shakes her head and continues to glare.

[Carac(#32384)] Carac stops his return to the cottage at the sound of the voices at the gate. Turning his eyes widen only slightly upon spotting the woodsmen and his companions. Saying nothing he waits and watches, but are pulled towards the strange old woman and her noises.

\"What\'s this?\" he asks one of the guards with a nod towards the witch, his eyes glancing speculatively towards the weapons upon the guard at his right.

The second of the pair of spearmen, a man of middle years, beginning to spread a little round the midriff, snorts. \"Beggars? Wanting something for nothing, eh? There\'s precious little food this time of year - we labour in the fields from dawn to dusk to remedy that.\"

The first, tall and lean, is more direct. \"/Friends/ do not come to Fearachas armed. Lay down your weapons, if you come in peace.\" Rather more suspicious they seem than last autumn, when a single traveller was allowed to retain his weapon - but then last autumn the village did not play host to unwelcome \'visitors\'. \"And if not,\" he adds, more quietly, \"bear in mind there\'s an arrow trained on each one of you.\" Bluff? It\'s hard to tell.

The words of the guard are attracting the attention of those villagers who have emerged from their houses, and some pause in their comings and goings, hoes or water-buckets in hand as they peer toward the strangers.

One, however, a little girl whose brown pigtails are straw-matted, has another focus for her attention. She slips away from the adults and edges nervously round behind the old woman to stare at Carac. \"Oh! He doesn\'t have horns.\" She sounds almost disappointed.

Ratho turns around to face his companions, hastily waving them to silence. Ratho looks back at the guards, \"we offered to work in exchange for any charity ye offered. But please, sah, what few weapons we have are for hunting and such. What promise do we have that they shall be returned to us?\" Ratho shrugs, \"Surely you ain\'t a feared of a few half starved vagrents?\"

[Verge(#32426)]

An expression portraying perplexity and uncertainty crosses over the woman\'s face upon hearing the mumblings from the old witch, who sits just yards away from Verge. /Who/ could that be? A brow is arched, and the woman decides to inch away toward the smell of pastries, deciding it best to steer cleer of all the commotion. She keeps her eyes cast downward at the ground, and tugs at the cloak she wears on her figure. It seems difficult for her to hide an amused grin upon hearing the little girl\'s disappointed comment.

A few silent moments pass, before her attention returns to the vagrants. \"Where do ye come all come from?\" Verge calls out in a questioning tone.

[Mainchin(#15443)]

The ancient one hands a sprig of wilted plant to the little girl with the pig tails. Muttering words that only squirrels and little girls can understand, Ehz\'ree the Witchwoman shows the little girl how to shake the sprig at the strangers, and to Carac, as if warding off evil spirits.

\"Tsssst! Tssst!\" She shows her how to hiss at the men, then gestures for her to do the same as if to say \"Now you do it.\"

[Carac(#32384)] With a chuckle Carac looks at the little girl and smiles. \"My horns only come out at night,\" he says raising his brow in comedic expression of fright.

He turns then towards the witchwoman an frowns. \"Be still witch,\" he growls. \"Your kind do not frighten me.\"

Lastly he turns to the gates and attempts to catch the eye of the \'woodsman\', as he shakes his head in attempt to stop any fighting from breaking out.

The second guard, the less-than-slim one, screws up his features thoughtfully. \"You\'d need to be talking to the Fian about that,\" comes his answer. \"Could certainly do with a few extra hands this time of year. It\'s his decision, though.\"

The first spearman, the lean man, is less amiable, however. \"You\'d have the word of honest men. If that doesn\'t suit you, then I suggest you go elsewhere.\" As Verge\'s words reach his ears, he does not turn, nor relax his vigilance - no, not one bit - but concedes, \"The woman\'s question is a good one. Answer it.\"

Ratho nods his aquicenice to the small group of men. \"Shoulda brought a female...\" he mutters under his breath as the few armed men chuck their weapons onto the ground infront of the guards, \"a real old one\". A short bow and a couple of daggers litter the ground.

\"Bah! take them then. Ye merciless ruffians. Aye, a good question. We have travelled north from Wulf lands. Tis no place to be in such uncertian times, war and doubt come calling far too often for honest men.\"

The little girl looks almost as terrified of the old woman as the Hawk leader. She takes the sprig of wilted plant in one trembling hand, and clutches it tightly. At the old woman\'s hiss, she jumps back with a squeal - and Carac\'s headshake only makes her blanch more. \"I can\'t-\" The words break off and she half-heartedly shakes the sprig, closing her eyes tightly as she does. Then she opens them again. \"It didn\'t work. The bad man is still here.\"

[Mainchin(#15443)]

The old woman staggers to her feet, and continues to hold the sprig of herb in her withered hand. She holds it out in front of her, and her hissing becomes even louder when the little girl gives up. Droplets of sticky saliva will surely spray onto her unwilling little disciple as Ehz\'ree urges her to continue.

\"TSSSST! TSSST!\"

\"If we were merciless ruffians, you would not be standing here.\" The lean spearman seems in no mood for friendship, not even when Ratho\'s companions so obligingly surrender their weapons. Perhaps spending a cold, comfortless night on watch does not agree with him. \"Someone go and fetch the Fian.\"

The guard with the spreading waistline is rather less hostile. \"Wulf lands, eh? That\'s a long way. Heard there\'d been trouble down there, men killed. Is that true?\"

[Carac(#32384)] Carac seems more intent with the witch than what occurs at gate. He turns on her and pulls a greenish stone amulet from the front of his tunic and holds it towards the woman as he forks his fingers at her. \"I said be still woman,\" he repeats. \"You have no power over me and you only upset the crowd.\"

Ratho nods, a sour expression on his face, \"your logic can\'t be questioned, sah. Aye, tis true. Men are dying there.\" The woodsmen gives a breif grunt of laughter, \"still, as me pa used to say. Tis a strange day when peace falls whole upon this land.\" Ratho catches a breif glimse of Carac, a thoughtful expression flutters across his face before he looks at the watchmen, \"I hope my words have not sullied my cause here. We would be grateful for any work ye have to offer us, we need not even shelter to sleep under. A few morsels would be more than enough for wretches such as us.\" Ratho waits paitently for a reply.

[Mainchin(#15443)]

The witch woman lets out an unearthly howl at the necklace that Carac reveals, and promptly turns her back to him, bidding the little girl to do the same, in an attempt to shield their eyes. With their backs to the stranger, Ehz\'ree begins to kick dirt onto Carac by kicking up her heels backwards, like a dog.

At the sight of the amulet the little girl\'s face turns as white as a sheet, showing up all the streaks of mud that her swarthy complexion had hidden before. \"He - he\'s cursing us!\" Alas, she is made of less stern stuff than her mentor. Dropping the sprig of herb in the dirt, she turns tail and runs back to the dubious shelter of the cottages as fast as her short legs can carry her, disappearing from view.

More than one of the villagers has heard the guard\'s order, and several men and women are gathered outside the largest house in the village. Is the Fian there? Who are they talking to?

The more talkative spearman frowns at Ratho, and lifts his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck. \"Sure we can find some lodgings for you if the Fian takes you on. Or build them. New fellow\'s a carpenter.\"

[Carac(#32384)] Carac moves towards the woman almost as if he will sieze her, but stops at the last moment and turns his back on the old hag. He too now looks towards the main house as he tucks the amulet back inside his shirt. Scratching at his chin he does take his eyes from the house now and then to give an occassional glance towards Ratho and the others.

[Verge(#32426)]

Verge has been standing there, just feet away from the exchanges between the witch and the Fiann\'s prisoner. Her expression is placid and cool, and she merely listens to the conversation continuing between the guards and Ratho. The shaking of sprigs or threatening with amulets has not been seen by the woman although she does occasionally glance in their direction, giving the appearance of vague interest. A blink, and the woman\'s eyes shift towards the \'pat pat\' sound of soft footsteps from the pig-tailed girl as she runs back home. \"Scared the girl off, did ye?\" she comments to the man standing nearby: Carac. \"And who is this woman?\" Verge offers a nod towards the old hag inconsiderately, with a slight frown.

Ratho takes a few tenitaive steps towards the guard, \"well, if ye ain\'t gonna be holding us somplace perhaps we could be making a start on this work ye have so much of?\"

The guard with the broad midriff shifts uncertainly. \"Well-\" he begins, but then the other fellow, the lean one, shakes his head. \"Wait. Someone\'s coming - doesn\'t look like the Fian.\" A frown.

A lone figure breaks away from the group gathered before the large house. A young man, tall and slender of build, dark curls tumbled about his shoulders free of any restraint. He is clad in leather, and over that a crumpled tunic of Bear red. He does not run, but his strides are long and he covers the ground quickly. Amber-hued eyes flick this way and that as he takes in the scene the strangers, unarmed, the guards, Verge, Carac, the old woman. At the sight of Verge the corner of his mouth pulls up in the hint of a smile, but he makes no verbal acknowledgement. The sight of the old woman sets his lips in a tight line, and his hand creeps to his dagger as though for comfort. But as he draws level with Carac, his strides slow and one brow raises in silent query.

[Carac(#32384)] Carac steps close to Brev and glances towards the gates. \"This could turn ugly,\" he says in a whisper. \"I know Garaig and if these men are here, there\'ll be others out there.\" He brushes a lock of hair from his eyes and glances once towards the main house.

\"I\'d have liked to of spoken with the Fian again, but if you have the power to release me it may save bloodshed.\"

[Verge(#32426)]

The sound of slightly heavier, booted footsteps approaching from several yards away causes Verge to glance briefly in that direction, feigning a moment\'s interest in the man. Another hand is lifted, her fingers running through her dark hair as she waits momentarily for the approaching man to speak. For it won\'t be until she can recognize the man\'s voice that she will know it is Breveg\'s. An inquisitive brow is raised towards Carac\'s words, and suddenly she realizes that he is one of the prisoners. A step is taken to the side by Verge, but no words are spoken yet she remains silent and watchful.

Breveg shakes his head slightly, the motion sending dark curls toward his eyes so that he must raise a hand to brush them away. \"I\'d recommend you stay just a little longer,\" he murmurs, very softly, under cover of giving the \'prisoner\' a cursory inspection. \"A man willing to talk - and that the Fian is - is usually also willing to listen. Leave now and you lose that forever. I\'ll get you out, in time, don\'t fear. But, if you wish ...\" He stoops and tugs at his boot, apparently emptying a stone out. When he, there will be something lying half-hid on the stony ground near to Carac - a small, slender dagger. \"Try not to kill me, eh?\"

Turning his back, he moves forward a little to address Ratho and his group. \"I\'m sorry. The Fian\'s orders are that no strangers are to pass our borders. It is a lean time of year, and support all its folk. I have arranged for some supplies to send you on your way.\"

One of the guards, the lean one, scowls. \"What? Give beggars /our/ food?\"

[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks down towards the dagger for a brief moment and then shakes his head. \"You hear that!?\" he calls towards the \'beggars\' at the gate. \"They have no wish you among them, but send you off with supplies. I say take what you can get, perhaps if you come back at a later date you\'ll find what it is you are looking for.\"

He then turns to Brev for a moment and then to his guards. \"I suppose you must take me back to my cage then?\" he asks and steps back towards the cottage, giving Verge a nod of greeting as he passes.

[Verge(#32426)]

It would appear that a half-smile seems to spread across the silent woman\'s lips. Perhaps she had come to recognize the newly-arrived man\'s voice as Breveg\'s, or she may have thought of something amusing just then. Who knows. Her head turns and faces the two men not far off, just as the oncoming footfalls of Carac are heard coming near. The woman does not nod in return, she merely stands there with her eyes shifted towards the ground. \"Aren\'t you the man the Fian took prisoner just a few days ago?\" Verge suddenly asks of the man, glancing a few feet upwards in Carac\'s direction.

Ratho looks a triffle stunned but quickly recovers, \"your generosity is welcome indeed. Tis not often such favors are granted in such times.\" Ratho signals the others to follow any instruction given in the collection of the supplies. Ratho himself turns to Carac and shouts in reply, \"Tis of little concern to us the ramblings of captive fools. Still, I beleive that honest, hard working folk such as ourselves will have what we seek. Sooner than you may think, in fact.\" The woodsman sheilds his face with one hand, appearing to the guards to brush a wayward lock of hair from his eyes. The slyest of winks is sent in Carac\'s direction. Ratho giving no regard to a return guesture from the Hawk truddles aimlessly after his cohorts, under the strict supervission of the guards.

\"It appears you have an excellent understanding of Ranich\'s policies.\" Breveg remarks drily, the words tossed in Carac\'s direction.

To the guards moving to herd Carac back inside he shakes his head. \"Let him breathe the fresh air a little longer. The Fian is not cruel. I know he desires to talk with this man, though he had other pressing business to attend to this morning.\" Involving a messenger, perhaps?

As the promised supplies are brought grudgingly out, Breveg snatches a bag from a villager\'s hands. \"Here, let me.\" Only the most observant would see him slip some small object from his belt pouch and into the little sack before he hands it to the nearest of the strangers.?

[Carac(#32384)] Carac gives Breveg a nod in thanks as he not forced back inside the stuffy cottage. Since he is not rushed away he turns towards Verge and gives a nod. \"The Fian calls me his \'guest\',\" he replies with a chuckle. \"Though others would call me a prisoner,\" as he speaks he moves to place his foot over the dagger left on the ground by Breveg.

\"Carac,\" he continues then to the woman. \"That is my name. You were also held as a \'guest\' were you not?\"

[Mainchin(#15443)]

The witch woman squints her eyes at everyone and everything in an unsettling manner. Her eyes glint at Carac\'s foot before looking up at Brev from afar, as if to say \"I saw it all\" before shuffling off to her dilapidated shack.

[Verge(#32426)]

Verge offers a nod towards the man, noting the very faint sound of pebbles being pushed aside and stepped on as the man readjusts his footing. The woman does not look down toward the gravel. \"Oh.. yes, I was. The Fian thought I was a Hawk spy can ye believe that?\" She does another half-smile, this time directed at the other \'guest\'. \"Ye haven\'t been released yet, aye? Ranich must have reasons for keepin\' ya locked up so long.\" There is just the slightest hint of accusation in her tone. \"So, Breveg and ye were on a huntin\' trip, is that correct? What made ye decide t\' come up here?\" She questions, not letting the man know of her own reason for arriving in Fearaches.

Breveg, turning back from the strangers, blinks as his gaze, skittering nervously away from the witch-woman (and yes, he does pale a little), comes to rest on Carac. Wandering over to the nearer of the man\'s guards, he murmurs to him, \"These were the Fian\'s instructions -\" and launches into a speech so low-voiced that the man must bend his head to listen.

[Carac(#32384)] Carac chuckles softly at the womans words. \"I came here to deliver the Fian a message from the Hawk,\" he replies. \"In case you had not heard, I am in fact a Hawk.\" He glances towards Breveg as he speaks with the guard and then turns back to Verge. \"I am sorry that you were caught up in all of this. I hope you have not been delayed too much.\"

[Verge(#32426)]

\"Oh?\" Suddenly, Verge remembers that conversation she had with Brev not too long ago, where he told her that Carac was one of the Hawk. She nods towards the man at his admission, and then smiles as if to signal that they\'re on good terms after hearing his apology. \"Well, I haven\'t been delayed too much. Came here to try an\' sell some furs I\'m a merchant, y\'know. Business had been a bit slow down in Creatrach, so I\'ve decided to head northward.\" A pause. \".. So, if ye are one of the Hawk -- does that mean yer companion Breveg is one of \'em, as well?\" Her brows raise just the slightest bit upon asking this question.

When Verge\'s query reaches his ears, Breveg frowns slightly. Whatever words he has passed on are ended, and now he swiftly turns and steps to join the talking pair.

\"Verge.\" The single word serves as a greeting. \"I am glad to see you are no longer detained. The Fian was persuaded to release you.\" There is just the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. \"As you know, I serve Fian Ciaran Ranich of /Bear/.\" He emphasizes that last word slightly, but does not accompany it by a shake of the head or any other visual cue.

[Carac(#32384)] \"I only recently met Breveg,\" Carac replies. \"I would not call him my companion, nor is he a Hawk.\" He grins as Breveg returns and gives a nod in agreement to the young man\'s statement. \"You see?\" he asks. \"Why would anyone curse themselves a Bear unless they were?\"

[Verge(#32426)]

\"Oh, aye, ye\'ve already told me,\" Verge says to Brev, her eyes gliding up to meet the source of his voice. \"But why would a servant of Ranich allow one of the Hawk among their company? An\' even if ye did it just so he could deliver a message, why would a group of Bears be so trusting of a strange Hawk comin\' along f\'r the journey?\" She questions, with just the slightest of smiles pulling at the side of her lip. \"I don\'t mean t\' cause offense, of course. I merely ask out of curiousity.\" Verge turns back to Carac, and questions, \"So how /did/ ye two meet, if I may ask?\"

Breveg matches Verge\'s smile with his one of his own, a slight unwilling drawing up of the corner of his mouth. \"They wouldn\'t. A fellow Bear known in Creatrach was another matter. As you can imagine, our Fian was quite offended when he found out this fellow\'s deception. Hence his order to imprison those believed to be with him, including you. I am glad that is remedied.\" He hesitates then asks quietly, \"Where will you go now?\"

To the casual observer Carac\'s barb would appear to be met with studied indifference - indeed, he appears barely to be looking at the man.

[Carac(#32384)] Carac grins as he nods once again in agreement. \"Yes, I did indeed curse myself by claiming to be a Bear,\" he says. \"Which is no doubt why Kiern forces me to suffer being a prisoner.\" He gives a slight shrug. \"Though I suppose by all rights I could call myself Bear, I believe my father was a Fian of them at one time.\" He shrugs once more with indifference.

[Verge(#32426)]

\"Ah, so he fooled ya then.\" The smile upon Verge\'s face remains. Brev\'s tone seems to be unaggressive, and calm, and so is her own voice. \"I plan t\' remain \'ere another day, b\'fore headin\' up t\' Mathain. I\'ll manage it on my own,\" she says to Brev almost reassuringly. \"And what of you? Are ye t\' remain here with the Lord Ranich?\" The Fian\'s title is said with a somewhat mocking tone, as if she does not take the man\'s position seriously. \"I don\'t really see much hope f\'r the clan if the new Fian is allowed t\' keep control,\" she says, shaking her head at this statement. \"Oh? An\' what was \'is name?\" Verge turns back to Carac, her tone questioning.

Breveg smirks at Carac\'s words. \"Oh? Must be Kiern punishing you for arrogance, then.\"

The smirk fades instantly. \"Enough!\" he hisses, \"Kiern, woman, do you want to be seized again? If the Fian hears any inkling of Hawk sympathies ...\" He lets the words trail off into silence. Best say you\'re headed to the Ysmeden lands - they lie northwest. And you won\'t make it alone.\" His voice turns flat. \"No-one travels alone in these parts.\" He flicks a glance back to Carac, then adds, cryptically, \"Fortunately, I don\'t think you\'ll have to.\"

At that moment a call from one of the Ranich man demands his attention. \"Good day, Verge. I trust you\'ll find the village pleasanter now you\'re free to move at will. And Hawk, I believe the Fian will speak with you soon.\" Head held high, he strides away from the pair without a backward glance.