Arrows from the heart

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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast

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Real Time is: Sat Jan 24 00:22:27 2009

IC weather is: Wind: fresh - Clouds: clear

IC Moon is: Full

IC time is: Late Morning

IC date is: Summer/autumn in the year 3046.

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Summer may be drawing to an end, but here in Dingadarn one would not know it. The morning sun slants brightly across the courtyard, lightening the grey fieldstone and drawing the warm smell of turf from the roofs of barns and outbuildings. There is a clucking and a squawking as a plump, pink-cheeked servant girl broadcasts handfuls of grain for the Keep\'s resident chicken population. Almost one could forget that one forbidding blanket-shrouded window in the tower-house above.

Out from the door of that dwelling slips a single figure. Eilidh Faol is finely garbed as usual, but this morning in addition she carries a light hunting bow in one hand, and a quiver of green-fletched arrows is slung over one shoulder. She pauses in the shadow of the walls, surveying the courtyard as though seeking someone.

[Finnian(#23897)] Standing near the gate, chatting with some guards is the visitor from Dunhallow lands. Jadiran has a thick shirt on over a lighter summer garb, his own quiver strapped to his back and bow in hand. At his side the long-bladed knife is sheathed. His tight brown curls are again restrained with the green length of cloth that\'s wrapped about his brow, and his right ear is sporting a silver hoop earring and a second piercing of a silver stud.

\"..You see, I couldn\'t let the girl get hurt and the wildcat was easily.. -this- big.\" Jadiran holds his hand up to roughly chest level to indicate. \"I got a few scars, sure, but it was the honorable thing to do. They threw me a feast of course, but that was hardly the reason I jumped in to save her.. Was the right thing to do.\"

Eilidh turns her head at the sound of voices, and one delicate brow arches at the sound of voices. She walks gracefully across the yard toward the speakers, skirting a few chickens. \"Oh, really, Jadiran? Pray tell me, what were you and this ... girl,\" her nose wrinkles, \"doing out in the woods baiting wildcat in the first place?\" Morning has not improved her demeanour, though she remains as fair as ever.

[Finnian(#23897)] Jadiran turns sharply, startled by the words behind him. He gives Eilidh a bright smile. \"Nothing! I was telling them the story of how I got these scars, that\'s all.\" He gestures faintly along the left side of his face, and was obviously telling a lie the size of Redvyrne. \"Are you ready to go? We wouldn\'t want to waste a minute of this sunshine!\" Or give her any time to completely discredit his story.

Eilidh stares at Jadiran in complete amazement, then bursts out in a peal of laughter. The mirth erases her severe expression, and brings a light to her green eyes. \"You were?\" she queries when she can get the words out. \"Ah my. Ever an embroiderer of tales. You know, when I was younger I used to actually believe them,\" she confides, shaking her head slightly.

The visitor put in his place, she answers the question with a dip of her head. \"Of course I\'m ready. Ready to prove that my arrows can fly straighter than yours.\" She gives Jadiran a sweet smile.

[Finnian(#23897)] Jadiran returns her sweet smile with one of his own, ignoring the snickering of the guards behind him. \"You\'re lucky that I\'m such a good sport, or I might actually take offense at that accusation, dear Eilidh.\" He responds, then moves to pass the guards and exit through the gate. \"We shall put the argument of arrow flight to the test, for that is the one thing I simply won\'t concede on, lady or no.\" He glances back, \"But.. to prove that I am still a gentleman, I shall let you have the first shot at whatever game we see.\"

\"Oh, very noble.\" Eilidh steps daintily through the gates and out onto the path, her steps raising little puffs of dust. It has been a dry summer. \"And if we find no game, what then? A tree might prove equal to the task ... Shall we head toward the hills, or would you prefer down by the stream?\"

[Finnian(#23897)] \"Oh, the stream. Definitely the stream. If we find a deeper pool perhaps I can add fish to the menu tonight.\" Jadiran says with full confidence, the wide smile still upon his face. \"Unless you prefer a stationary target for warm-up? It makes no difference to me.. I would wager I could best anyone.\"

Eilidh\'s smooth brow crinkles. \"You can\'t shoot fish,\" she protests, then amends, \"at least, /I/ won\'t be wasting any arrows on them. You, of course, may do as you please. Stream it is, then. This way.\" With no more ado she steps off the path, and begins to push her way through the long grasses. Her pace is slow, hampered as she is by her skirts, and Jadiran should have no problem in keeping up.

As she walks, she appears to be pondering eventually she comes out with, \"I\'m not sure it would be dignified to wager. But - what stakes did you have in mind? I don\'t have much...\" Her free hand rises unbidden to touch one of her silver combs.

[Finnian(#23897)] \"Oh? Can\'t I?\" Jadiran asks in challenge, matching pace to walk alongside the young the woman. \"I\'ll tell you what. If I shoot a fish, you have to kiss me.\" He states simply with a serious expression on his face, though his eyes show tremendous amusement. \"And if I can\'t, then I shall.. do whatever you like. The same goes for hitting a target when we match our skill against each other.\"

Steady walking takes them down into a dip and out of sight of the Keep. Running water can be heard close at hand. Eilidh is silent a long while, her features screwed up in distaste and her cheeks a little flushed. \"That,\" she says firmly, when at last she deigns to speak, \"was not what I had in mind. It would certainly /not/ be dignified. Perhaps we can save the wager for some other time ... well, here we are.\" Her steps slow, and she does not look at Jadiran.

[Finnian(#23897)] \"One kiss against my servitude in any one task you choose? Hmm.. Seems a fair enough wager to me.\" Jadiran draws to a stop beside her, letting his green eyes roam the area. \"So proper you have become, Eilidh. Dignified! As if that\'s such a lofty concern amongst old friends.\" He checks the string on his bow, twanging it a few times with his fingers, and then reaches back to draw one of his arrows. Each is banded with three stripes, two green with one white between, and black fletching.

\"It is now,\" Eilidh answers, her manner subdued. \"I\'m not a child any more, Jadiran. I have a reputation to uphold, now.\" Her head turns and she glances back in the direction where the Keep must lie, sighing.

After a moment, though, some of her old confidence returns. \"So? What are you going to shoot?\" As she awaits answer she carefully strings her own bow.

[Finnian(#23897)] Jade sighs softly in disappointment, but nods in concession. \"Perhaps before my visit is done I can convince you that reputation is not something to have weighing you down.\" He smiles then and executes a small bow. \"Your choice, dear lady.\" His tone is almost mocking, but only as a joke. There is only the same mirth in his eyes. \"Pick a target and I shall bury an arrow into it.\"

\"Perhaps, for men, it is not.\" Eilidh\'s tone is bitter. \"Whereas I- I am expected to make a high match, as befits my family\'s status. To achieve that, I must be blameless and without fault.\" Her expression is remote as she gazes about the little dell, and she does not look at her companion. At last she says, \"There. That rowan, over by the white stone.\"

[Finnian(#23897)] \"As if I would tell anyone, Eilidh.\" Jadiran says in rebuke, but the tone lacks conviction. \"And what kind of match do you seek for yourself? Have you had suitors already?\" He asks as he gazes at her chosen target for a long time, considering the shot. The arrow is nocked and the bowstring drawn back. \"I think the women in Redvyrne would be far happier if they weren\'t always fussing about propriety.\" Then he grows silent as he concentrates, the expression of intense focus a rarely seen thing upon the young man\'s face. He lets the arrow fly and a moment later the dull thud of it\'s tip sinking into the trunk of the tree resounds.

Eilidh does not answer Jadiran\'s question. \"I think the women in Redvyrne are the stronger for the fact they do maintain propriety,\" she responds. \"Only the weaker clans breed like rabbits ... ahh. A fine shot.\" Her face reflects naught but neutral admiration. \"Now, let us see if I can match it.\"

She nocks an arrow, gazing thoughtfully at the target and turning her cheek slightly to feel the strength of the wind. Then, in a single swift movement, she draws, sights and looses ...

Random roll: Eilidh rolls a 3

[Finnian(#23897)] Jadiran allows himself to smile at her compliment, rather proud of his skill with a bow. It\'s one of the few things he\'s actually practiced in his life. \"I suppose.. \" He answers in a tone that suggests he doesn\'t actually care about such things. \"But I shall have to be sure to visit often, if only to drag you out to have fun once in a while.\" He grows quiet then to allow her concentration for her own shot.

Perhaps it is that sudden breath of wind, perhaps it is Jadiran\'s threat of more visits ... whatever the reason, Eilidh\'s green-fletched shaft sails past the target rowan, embedding itself in a nearby alder.

\"Ohh.\" Eilidh stares, and claps a hand to her mouth. Then, trembling, she turns to flee the dell, her debt of a kiss still unpaid.