A friendly greeting
A tale freshly told of the Dunlending
Brev meets up with some acquaintances ...
Old South Road - Dunland <
Through the high weeds, brush, and forestland the remnants of the Old South Road pass through Dunland. The road is little more than a conglomeration of dirt and broken blades of grass which sprout in its midst. It is not overgrown yet, it is not well trodden. There seems to be just enough traffic to suppress the forces of nature from reclaiming the pathway as its own. Hills and valleys make up this stretch of roadway, contorting the Old South Road in no one set direction, although as a rule it remains running north and south.
To the north, an old watch tower towers over the road and stands out as a solid blot against the night sky.
Obvious exits:
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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
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Real Time is: Tue Feb 16 16:10:14 2010
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: moderate
IC Moon is: Waning crescent
IC time is: Dusk
IC date is: Sterday, Day 17 of March in the year 3049.
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[Nob(#16122)] Spring is coming on, though slowly (not at all, Gidon might tell you!). And from the drifts that still turn the countryside white, and the small white crystals drifting down slowly from the grey clouds, his point of view can easily be sen. But this is a small snowstorm, and though it is cold, the flakes are not piling up. Neither are they thick.
Behind the clouds, the sun is starting to set, and the small group pulls up to consider options for the night. Away to the northwest, shadowy walls are bulking Gidon looks at them while the others talk, and then points. \"What\'s that?\" he asks.
Brev has already slid down from his mount of the day, for once the grey mare and not the rough-coated pony. He steps away from the huddle of travellers and beasts and limps a few steps northward, squinting into the snow. He seems to be scanning the horizon for something ...
After a moment he turns to answer Gidon. \"Harthunn Keep. Or what\'s left of it. It was once held by Carac\'s father, but after he left Dunland ... well, I never did rightly hear what happened to it. Something did. There\'s little left but ghosts now.\"
Why, then, does he continue to survey the place?
[Nob(#16122)] The boy looks curiously, and the others turn to look as well. \"Be it safe for a night?\" Owain asks.
Brev shrugs at that. \"Depends,\" he says cryptically. \"Someone want to come with me to check the place out?\" His tone is almost challenging - but then, he never did get on easily with Owain.
[Nob(#16122)] \"Sure,\" Owain says lazily, and Gidon\'s voice chimes in almost at the same moment. The boy looks a little abashed, but more excited. \"There\'s nobody there no more?\" he asks.
Brev glances between the pair, and it is the younger his gaze settles on. \"Gidon, then,\" he announces, giving the lad a grin, before adding quietly to Owain by way of explanation, \"Might be handy to have an archer back here to cover us.\" As he moves off, limping still - his spear-shaft is currently doing doubled duty as a walking aid - he remarks to Gidon, one corner of his mouth twitching. \"That\'s what we\'re going to find out. If we knew, we wouldn\'t need to.\" Then he falls silent to pick out a path, choosing to tread snow-strewn weeds and brush rather than the road itself.
It is then that a single arrow comes winging its way out of the gloom, to land several feet in front. Its long shaft is black-fletched. From its angle, it has come from the scattering of bushes up ahead rather than the battered tower that darkens the skyline.
[Nob(#16122)] Owain shrugs and nods. The more pushy Brev gets, the more lackadaisical Owain gets - as if to prove he doesn\'t care what the other man thinks. Gidon is not so sophisticated. His face brightens immensely as he hurries to get his own spear. Owain, watching the lad go, doesn\'t argue further with the Dunlending.
The two are making their way towards the ruins when the arrow comes out of nowhere. Gidon stops, his eyes going instantly to the bushes ahead, then to both sides. In the next instant, he is diving sideways rolling under one of the brushy clumps.
Brev, amazingly, does not dive for cover. His amber eyes scan the horizon warily, but when no further are forthcoming he leans forward to inspect the shaft that quivers atop a hummock of bent grasses. The corner of his mouth curls slightly as he comments softly to Gidon, \"Goblins can\'t aim that well. And others have used that fletching.\" A moment\'s further survey, then he adds very softly, \"There, see. Just to the west of the tower. Can you send a stone that way? Don\'t try to hit, aim for a few feet to the side.\"
[Nob(#16122)] \"It - it\'s goblins?\" Gidon asks, in a whisper. But he raises himself up on one elbow to look. And though uncertain of what Brev is telling him to look at, he nods, and rolls to the side to get at his sling. Getting to his knees, he sets the strap whirling, then lets the stone go. It thwocks against the bent branch of a small hunched tree, shaking snow loose.
Brev watches the stone\'s flight, his gaze narrowed slightly when it hits the tree, he gives Gidon an approving nod.
And there is answer: the clump of whins beside the tree quivers, and more so than a lump of falling snow would account for.
Brev snorts, then calls out loudly and clearly a few words of guttural Dunael that leave Saraid, back at the horses, staring at him with narrowed eyes. He limps a few more steps forward, and holds his right hand up, empty. To Gidon, he adds an explanation in Common out of the side of his mouth. \"Told him that next time it\'d be his arse and not the bush. It\'s all right - might as well let them see you. They\'re friends - I hope.\"
[Nob(#16122)] The boy looks uncertain, hesitating and eyeing the arrow. Then he takes a deep breath and stands up. He doesn\'t shake the snow from cloak or pants - one hand being clenched tightly about the sling, the other unable to reach so far. \"Who is it?\" he asks, quietly enough, he hopes, that the others (whoever they are) won\'t be able to hear him not speaking Dunael.
Brev likewise keeps his voice low. \"Hawk,\" comes his answer, whether it will have meaning or not. \"At least, some of them. Most left with-\"
His soft speech cuts short as a single figure emerges from behind the stand of whins - a broad man, cloaked in grey and with bow still clenched in one meaty hand. \"
Brev snorts and responds lightly in the same tongue. \"
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon stiffens as the man appears, and behind him, Owain\'s bow swivels - just enough so that is not aimed directly at man - but near enough that he can shoot in a moment, if needed. A few of the words make sense, a few more than a month ago. Gidon\'s head jerks towards Brev at the word \'Carac\', then back again to watching the stranger. \'Fire.\' That word he knows. Also, \'friends\' and \'rest\' and some others. It doesn\'t sound too dangerous, and a little of the tension eases from his shoulders.
The broad man still seems to be reserving judgement. \"
At that, Brev\'s features split in a sudden grin. \"
He does not elaborate on the \'sorts\'. After all, how could the likes of Gidon and Owain know the Hawk\'s reputation for turning on former \'friends\'? Some things are better not shared.
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon\'s eyes are darting back and forth from the strange man to Brev, and when he sees Brev smile, he relaxes still more. At the words in Common, he nods and turns towards his father, and the two of them vanish silently into the evening. They will be back, with whatever game they have been able to find - and falling easily into the familiar pattern of working together, surely it will be more than either could do alone.