A Grave Matter

Barding Camp

A small encampment. Some stubby tents are erected here and there, and no sigil or house crest can be seen upon them still, though, they appear to be of quality design, beyond what a travelling merchant could own. Great horses can be seen destriers of the most remarkable breed, tall and mighty. Some are a shaggy brown, others a chestnut red. One, finer and more majestic than the rest, has a coat of glossy black, and fierce eyes. A camp fire has been made, within a circle of loose stones. A lone man sits at it, clothed in travelling leathers a great, bearskin cloak flows from his back, and the crest of Karath shimmers upon his breast. His dark eyes watch the road warily, a sword at his hip.

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Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service

Real Time: Wed Jul 06 12:10:30 2011 MST

Dale-Lands Time: Trewsday, late night on a clear spring\'s night, May 9 of 3053

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[Barlin(#26904)] A sombre mood fills the embalming tent, as is the norm the bodies of the lords or nobleman, having fallen in the recent battle, adorn half a dozen tables, lying with only a thin towel to guard their dignity. Undertakers assigned to the care of the dead carry out their task in respectful silence, layering the cold skin of their charges with herbal preservatives designed to resist the slow inevitably of decay for as long as possible. One bench, in particular, bends precariously under the weight of its resident a huge bear of a man, old and yet not quite faded, a sown wound visible upon his sternum. The cadaver of Irin Karath.

However, the murmur of hushed voices can be heard disturbing the slumber of the dead from an offshoot, attached to the main body of the mortuary tent. Inside, a small cluster of living people can be seen, undergoing a grim conversation. Sitting hunched upon a stool, his cane digging into the worn grass as he leans on it, is the recently awoken Barlin Karath he wears only a pair of linen trousers, his upper body still tightly bound in grey bandages. Despite his evident weakness, having sustained life-threatening injuries in the bloody conflict, his expression is focused.

\" We have matters to discuss...\" He says raspily, his voice thin but assertive, \"... Irin\'s death leaves many gaps which must be filled, and questions which must be raised.\"

\" So soon, uncle?\" Rumbles Bernar the son of Irin Karath, Bernar is the very image of his father, if thirty years younger. His tremendous frame seems to make the room, which is otherwise spacious enough, rather cramped. Despite this imposing build, there is no aggresion on his rugged features a deep sadness fills his eyes, evident for all to see. \" The breath has barely left his lungs.\"

\" We must see that it is done, Bernar...\" Barlin insists, \"... There are matters which must be attended to. What shall we do with his remains, for instance?\"

[Erdena(#20421)] One among this council is Erdena, who seems to be fiddling with a charm as she listens to the gathered voices. Her own expression carries a certain heaviness, and as she speaks, sadness fills her every word. \"If I may, Father... we have some options. Do we carry him away to lie with his fathers? Or do we set him up nearby, the place of his final glories?\" She takes in a breath, pausing a moment. \"It may seem...cruel to not wait but time marches ever on. We...should not sit idle for too long. There will be time for more tears when we get home.\"

\"-in Kiern\'s name is he doing /there/?\" The fabric of the tent sways as Brev pushes their way in and stands surveying the row of corpses, nose wrinkling. When his smoky gaze lights on the one he was looking for, he says drily, \"Just couldn\'t wait? You\'re not dead yet ...\" a pause ensues before he belatedly remembers to add, \"Lord Karath. And what possessed you to go wandering around? Your kin could have as easily come to you ... Straighten up, man.\" The foreigner sent to tend Lord Karath - or maybe just to get out of the healers\' hair - glowers.

[Lorthrain(#23381)] \"Soft, Master Brunni,\" says another voice then, and from outside the circle of Karath steps one not of their kin but perhaps of their ilk. Lorthrain of Girion appears by Brev\'s side, and he lays a hand of gentle caution upon the Dun-man\'s shoulder, lest the foreigner shake it off.

\"This matter is grave, sir,\" adds the lieutenant in a quiet, not unkind voice. \"And something not easily set aside by this House, even for injury. Come, step to the side with me, for they are masters of their own health, in this tent.\"

[Barlin(#26904)] \" My daughter speaks the truth...\" Barlin says grimly, eyeing the company, \"... We have a choice to make a swift military burial could be conducted here, or he could be brought back to Esgaroth and given the honour of a hero\'s funeral. The choice, it would seem, falls to his most intimate relatives...\" His eyes flit to Bernar.

The huge man sighs, running a hand over his close-shaven head. \" Alas, I am not sure what he wanted. Death was not something he spoke of often life was his game. Whether he is buried here, side by side with the fallen, or taken back to Esgaroth...\" He gives a shrug, \"... I suppose he wouldn\'t have minded either way.\"

\" What of Lady Evanna?\" A third voice says mildly. Harlin, seated at the edge of the conversation, who has been silent for a while now he has an expression of mild boredom. \" Surely, she would want a say.\"

\" This is true.\" Barlin admits, \"... It would be dishonourable to deprive her of her say in the matter. Irin loved her.\"

Just then, though, the Foreigner\'s voice can be heard, and the flap opens to reveal Brunni himself, closely followed by Lorthrain. Barlin\'s eyebrows lift slightly as the healer-in-learning addresses him.

\" I straighten on command only for the King, foreigner...\" He says lowly, dark eyes flickering to the man, \"... And I do as I please. If you will join us, then for the sake of your services to the realm, do so but temper your tongue, for rudeness, even under the guise of frank speech, is not something I am willing to endure on this eve.\"

His gaze lingers on the foreigner, for but a moment, before shifting to Lorthrain. \" Lord Girion...\" He nods once, \"... Welcome.\"

[Erdena(#20421)] The Karath woman nibbles her bottom lip in thought, nodding as words are spoken, though offering nothing out loud as of yet. Her eyes narrow at the disturbance at the door, shaking her head as she does so. She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again as her father makes a response. Instead, she nods her head towards the Lord Girion, before returning her attention to the table. \"How soon could we get word from the Lady?\"

Brev does shrug the retraining hand off, shooting Lorthrain an odd look for his choice of words, but for once restraining his sharp tongue.

At Barlin\'s words his jaw remains tight, though the sing-song speech when it comes is deliberately mild: \"Would your King not wish you hale?\" The old man is left to mull on that whilst he turns to the two younger members of House Karath. \"You should support his back,\" he directs them in a murmur. \"It\'s damaging him to sit hunched like that. I\'ll find him a chair ... or something.\" And he makes his escape clearly remaining in the company of the dead is the last thing he wants to do.

[Lorthrain(#23381)] As Brev slips away, Lorthrain looses a quiet breath of relief, ere he turns his brown eyes back to the proceedings. However, he does not speak to interrupt the Karath lords as they decide the finalr resting place of their fallen master.

[Barlin(#26904)] \" It\'s not a case of sending word to her...\" Barlin says quietly, he too restraining his tongue as the foreigner departs with promise of return. A quick scowl at the others assures them he does not need supporting, \"... I am afraid she does not know yet. Indeed, rumours may have trickled northward, and they may tell of the death of a great warrior, even a lord of Karath but whether that man is her husband, or her son, she will not know if she knows anything at all...\" He sighs in turn now, wiry fingers moving to stroke the wisps of his newly-grown silver beard thoughtfully, \"... We would be doing her a great dishonour sending a nameless messenger to deliver the ill tidings. I must go myself. I believe she resides in her manor home, North of Esgaroth we would have to bring the body to her, and leave its care in her hands.\"

[Erdena(#20421)] \"You are right, Father, as always.\" Erdena begins to fiddle with the charm in her hands again, her eyes falling to the ground. There is some conflict or other going on her face, but she sits silent.

[Lorthrain(#23381)] \"It is not my place to steer the will of your House in this matter,\" says Lorthrain then, speaking up at last, \"but I believe that to be right, my lords. The widow of Evanna is owed more than a mere letter or runner from the night. Let us beat him home with all honour and ceremony, so at the least his valour shall travel with him. As for here...\"

He sniffs then. \"A thought has come to my mind, regarding the town of Buhr Mahrling, and the legacy of Irin Bear-heart, Lord of Karath.\"

[Barlin(#26904)] Barlin\'s eyes drift to Erdena as she speaks, and a thoughtful expression inhabits his face but then as Lorthrain\'s voice fills the room, he looks to his younger friend. \" Then Irin\'s body shall be embalmed and preserved, and brought back to his home. And if you have any suggestions, Lord Girion, please do not act the stranger you are an honoured friend to Karath, and have a place on our counsels. I believe I speak for us all, in that matter...\" He glances to Bernar, and the huge man nods.

[Lorthrain(#23381)] The Girion nobleman clears his throat then, and he steps closer to the ring of Karath lords his eyes resting upon Irin. \"Whether the recent invasion was a passing threat, or the herald of renewed menace from the East is unclear either way, the King\'s borders would benefit greatly from a stronger presence among the King\'s Men in this part of the world. We have the garrison at Iach Celduin, but as has been shown, that may not be enough to defend our lands at need. We require something strong, my lords, I deem.\"

His raises his gaze then to glance about the tent. \"I plan to visit Dale upon my return, not only to give my report, but also to suggest a hasty work to be made down here outside the walls of Buhr Mahrling. A new fort, to be manned as a fresh garrison, to keep a closer and sterner watch upon the plains of Rhun.\"

A sniff, ere Lorthrain finishes: \"And it has come to my mind... to name this thing, if it can be built: Fort Irin.\"

[Barlin(#26904)] Bernar grins, beaming at Lorthrain: \" A noble plan, Lord Girion. He would be honoured.\"

\" Aye...\" Barlin agrees, with a sharp jerk of his head, \"... A fine course of action that would be. It would fulfill our tactical needs, and ensure that Irin\'s name is forever attached to that which he died to defend. Let it be so.\"

Harlin, for the first time since the conversation began, now looks interested, a curious light gleaming in his eye \" An interesting proposal indeed, Lord Girion. One I would like to speak with you more about. I have some knowledge of design and architecture myself, and have long considered turning my hand to something more... constructive than warfare. I request to remain behind with the detachment tasked with making this idea a reality.\"

It is at this moment that a murmur by the doorway heralds Brev\'s return, and another with him - one of the younger King\'s Men. \'Chairs\' have proven hard to come by, but the slats of wood nailed to an upturned half-barrel (perhaps once a washtub) with supports of canvas stretched between will surely serve that purpose. The item is set down in silence the King\'s Man bows and withdraws. Brev hesitates, looking as though he wished to do the same, and glances to the quietest member of the group in a mute appeal for help.

[Lorthrain(#23381)] His eyes meeting with Harlin\'s own, Lorthrain bows his head. \"Aye, my lord, if that is your wish, I can think of few finer men to leave in charge of the town\'s defense. At least three hundred shall be left with you, while the rest fo us amrch back to Iach Celduin, and seek there what rest and comfort we can find among our brethren of the King\'s armies.\"

[Erdena(#20421)] It seems that the corporal is lost in thought, though she nods in time with the suggestions made at the table. She looks up suddenly then as Brev enters. She quirks an eyebrow before addressing her father. \"It seems he has gone through the trouble of bringing you a more comfortable place to sit, Father. Would you not take up his offer?\" The woman quickly adds, \"He is...more knowledgeable at healing hurts than you or I. One should take rest while one may before our journey begins.\"

[Barlin(#26904)] Barlin\'s eyes lift to Brev, and his glower is one of complete irritation indeed, if he were a blowfish he would be puffed out to the gills. His eyes flicker to Erdena, and then to Brev, and then back to Erdena, and then brev again after a moment\'s silence, he gives a raspy chuckle. Leaning on his stick, he moves to shuffle onto the offered seat. \" You are a stubborn man, Brunni... Now, we have logistic matters to discuss...\"

For his part, Brev offers Erdena a wary half-smile. When Barlin shuffles on to the new seat he breathes a thinly disguised sight of relief. One corner of his mouth twitches slightly at the assessment, though he manages to stop it from becoming a grin. As he turns to leave, he presses something into the woman\'s hand: a small jar of the enbalmer\'s ointment. \"You might try rubbing some of that on his shoulder, if he can stand the stink,\" he murmurs softly to her. \"Will kill off any rot in the cut. Figure it\'d come better from you than I.\"

[Lorthrain(#23381)] With the matter seemingly decided, a rueful smile tugs at Lorthrain\'s lips as he watches the power struggle between Erdena and her father, Brev caught in between, and he too strides from the tent.