Scratching for worms

Courtyard <>

Stout walls of stone encircle the courtyard of this keep, which once again serves as a waypoint and fortress along the road. The walls, rebuilt and cobbled though they are, are still thick - clearly they were built to withstand attack, for guard posts can be seen at regular intervals. From within, the contrast between the older weathered stone and smooth new blocks is clearly apparent. The northern and southern entrances to the courtyard are protected by heavy gates, thick wood reinforced with iron. The keen-eyed might spot a mason\'s mark low down on the right-hand gatepost as they pass through. Outside the walls, the Old South Road snakes its way across the mountainous wild land. Although formerly a place of much activity and commerce with a bakehouse, a brewery, a forge, and a lodge, human habitation here is now confined to a small detachment of imposing guardians who patrol upon the walls, keeping a lookout for intruders into their homeland. Like birds of prey they are with quick and watchful eyes.

(OOC: type +inspect/list for inspectable details)

Obvious exits:

Southern Gate leads to Old South Road - Dunland <>.

Northern Gate leads to Off Old South Road - Dunland <>.

Main Doors leads to Main Hall <>.

Stairs leads to Watch Tower <>.

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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast

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Real Time is: Wed Nov 19 23:07:49 2008

IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: sparse

IC Moon is: Not visible

IC time is: Dawn

IC date is: Trewsday, Day 28 of June in the year 3045.

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Dawn slowly creeps over Iolair and the refugee camp that\'s sprung up outside it\'s northern wall. The soft breeze that blows in from the south, seems to bring the promise of a splendid early summer day. Even though the sun is just rising, there are already many inside and outside the keep ready to greet the new day.

Carac is among those inside, seated upon the lower stairs of the tower, watching the sunrise while biting chunks from a crust of hard bread.

Brev, apparently, has been sleeping somewhere outside. It looks as though someone has prevailed on the fellow to make himself useful, for there is a set of carpentry tools slung across his shoulder. The young man\'s face is set and sullen, and his greeting to the guard curt. As he passes through the iron-strengthened gates, a muscle starts to jump in his cheek.

Catching sight of Carac, he turns his steps that way and greets him rather abruptly, \"What now? Thinking of setting some more fires? Sun\'s beat you to it ...\" He turns his gaze to the line of gold and crimson across the eastern horizon, then glances swiftly back toward the gates.

Carac laughs and pushes a hand through his unruly hair. \"I have no plans on burning anything more,\" he says. \"I regret that Kierkgard burnt. That was never my intent, nor was I the one who set the fires.\" He takes another bite from the heel of bread, chews and swallows.

He nods towards the gates and those outside in the camps. \"How\'s things outside?\" he asks and then turns to look back towards Brev\'s tools. \"I\'d think there\'d be more work outside for ya, than inside.\"

Brev snorts. \"It happened, anyway. It\'s over and done, no sense brooding on it.\"

He pauses for breath, his gaze remaining on the gates. \"Said I\'d help fix up the brewhouse, didn\'t I?\" He jerks his head toward one of the old buildings inside the compound, without really looking his features are twisted in a scowl. \"Outside, things are ...\" he snorts again. \"Bunch of whingers, busy looking for someone /else/ to make things right. That woman with the chickens was the least of it. Don\'t know why I stay, sometimes.\" Except that where else is there to go?

Carac glances towards the gates as if Saffron may suddenly come wandering. \"Kiern help us all if there be worse than her out there,\" he says with a smile. \"I swear that woman is intent on nagging us all to death.\"

He turns then and looks towards the brewhouse. \"The brewhouse, aye,\" he say and his smile turns to a frown. \"I understand that people like their ale, but I still think there\'s things of more import than making sure the people have drink.\"

He scratches at his chin. \"The lumber merchant, Belus, has offered to supply us with timber,\" he says. \"I\'m of a mind to take him up on the offer, but we need to make sure it goes to where it\'s most needed.\"

Not to disappoint, \"The Chicken Woman\" rounds the corner and appears. She is already awake at this early hour, walking through with her back hunched over, her sharp eyes looking intently at the ground. Every so often, she would scratch at the earth with her foot then leans down to pick something up.

\"Belus!\"

Saffron straightens her back to look at the two young men talking.

\"Belus! You had better watch yourself if you intend to do business with that son of a merchant!\"

Brev does not answer the smile, nor does he take his eyes off the gates. \"Where would you have it go, then?\" he asks. \"What folk out there need most is decent houses, before the autumn cold sets in ... thing is,\" his voice lowers, \"if Bear or Wulf want this place first thing they\'d do is torch whatever\'s out there,\" he nods. \"Which is ironic really, don\'t think those folk care who\'s in-\"

The words break off abruptly as a voice comes from behind him. Brev\'s shoulders tense, and his hand reaches for his dagger before he\'s even turned to see who it is. My, he\'s jumpy this morning. At the sight of Saffron he turns his scowl on her instead and demands, \"Why?\"

Carac\'s frown deepens as he considers Brev\'s words. \"There was once a village in Caerdh,\" he says after a moment. \"Hidden off in the forest, unknown by most everyone. I\'racil took me there once.\" One again his hand moves through his hair. \"Perhaps we could consider something of the same. The forest near the Old Village, where the witch lived, we might be able to hide a few homes in there.\"

He looks at Saffron as she approaches. \"That is a good question, Chicken lady.\"

\"/Former/ Chicken Lady, thank you!\" She corrects harshly, though her expression is anything but.

As she walks towards Carac and Brev, it is apparent that what she holds between her fingers is, indeed, a worm. A worm that she carefully tucks into a pouch that she has tied around her waist.

\"Belus has a business, a house, and workers. Yet the other day, he had the nerve to stand in line for the meal given to the homeless! He even had the nerve to complain about the food! Granted, the meal tasted awful.. but that is beside the point. Anyway..\" she looks down and kicks some more earth.

\"Anyway, he was looking for strong backs to cut down trees.\"

Brev\'s hand slowly unclenches from his dagger-hilt, but something in Carac\'s words sets the muscle jumping in his cheek again. \"It\'s probably gone,\" he tells the other man sourly. \"After Mathain fell, there was nothing to stop the orcs raiding. Villages burned ... Northern half of Caerdh lies empty still.\" he turns his head away from his companions for a moment, seemingly inspecting the watch-tower, and when he looks back his features wear their all-too-usual scowl. \"I\'ll help build homes in the forest if you wish,\" he tells Carac. \"Just say the word.\" Nothing like a helpful second opinion, eh?

At Saffron\'s speech the scowl lightens, and he even manages a snort. \"What\'s wrong with that?\" he asks to her final words. \"Better for folk to work for their keep than rely on hand-outs. Glad to see you\'re starting to look after yourself, anyway.\" He nods approvingly toward the pouch.

Carac\'s eyes are on Saffron and he nods in agreement with Brev\'s words. \"Would do these folk good to do a little work,\" he says. \"As for the meal, well I\'ve seen Belus bring in squirrels and a haunch of boar that he claimed his workers took down while hunting. I\'d say that gives him a right to a meal, whether he\'s a home or no.\" He glances at the pouch himself then. \"We can\'t all live on worms, now can we?\" he adds with a smile.

He then turns to Brev. \"Your help is welcome, Brev, but your counsel is what I wish. Whether we liked them or no, are fathers were leaders in this land. People are going to be looking to you as much as me for where we go from here.\"

\"The innocence of youth.\"

Saffron grumbles under her breath as she peeks into the pouch.

\"I do not mean to sound ungrateful but the food here does taste terrible.\" She reaches in to grab a handful of wriggly, wormy worms. \"But that doesn\'t mean I would rather eat worms! No, the worms are to either catch me some chickens, or catch me some fish.\"

Brev\'s lips tighten. \"I\'m not my father,\" he says abruptly. \"I\'m sure /he\'d/ have shared your bleeding heart - I look out for myself.\" Then he relents, and says more softly, \"I don\'t know what to do with them. Building a fortified town round the keep might make sense, but I know that stone walls can so easily fall ...\" He turns his head so that the reddish dawn light slants across his face, casting his features into shadow. Then he sighs. \"What we really need,\" and here his tone turns sarcastic, \"is friends in high places. Know any good chieftains?\"

His gaze shifts to Saffron, and his lips twist wryly, \"And some cooks. Are you volunteering - or is that a fate we\'d all wish to avoid?\"

\"No more than I am I\'racil,\" Carac replies. \"I stayed out of Kierkgard, out of all the holds for years, because I didn\'t want to be confused with him, but I couldn\'t just watch people suffer any longer. I remember what it was like to be hungry, with no hope of anything to eat . . .\" he sighs and shakes his head. \"Maybe I do have a bleeding-heart.\"

He shakes his head at the final question. \"Only dead ones,\" he says somewhat sadly.

Then he glances towards Saffron. \"I can show you a creek nearby where you might be able to catch some fish,\" he says. \"Might be good to get a few more to go along as well. A nice fish stew, would be a welcome change from stale bread and gruel.\"

\"I can eat, but I cannot cook. It is the badge of honor worn proudly by old women who never got married.\" She smiles smugly at Brev. Her face brightens even more at Carac\'s offer.

\"Why, I would be much obliged! I guess I\'d better go find myself a fishing pole!\"

She wanders towards the crowd of people who seem to be stirring awake, one by one.

Brev lets out a huff of breath at Carac\'s words, but his features have lost some of their bitterness. When Saffron speaks, he actually manages a chuckle. \"Never to late to learn.\" He watches as she wanders off, lips still upcurved in a half smile.

\"Suppose I\'d best be getting to it as well,\" he mutters to Carac once she\'s gone. \"I do think it\'s time we made some new friends, though. Support and fighters in exchange for ... what? Workers?\" he muses, with the air of one thinking aloud. \"Most folk out there have trades of some kind, and I doubt they care overmuch whether they\'re beholden to Bear, Stag or Wulf or none. Maybe some up-and-coming landholder ... hmm.\"

Carac sits silently for several moments after he nods to Saffron.

\"I agree we must make some kind of arrangement,\" he says to Brev after a few moments. \"Though with who and for what?\" he shakes his head, not knowing the answer either.

Then a soft chuckle and he rises from the stair. \"Mayhap I\'ll get lucky at the creek and we can trade warriors for fish.\" He then gives Brev a wave and heads off in the direction Saffron departed.