Of women, wares and songs

===============================================================================                       Dunland Time and Weather Forecast

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Real Time is:       Sat Apr 25 23:50:20 2009

IC weather is:      Wind: calm - Clouds: dense

IC Moon is:         Not visible

IC time is:         Dawn

IC date is:         Monday, Day 10 of October in the year 3046.

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[Rathos(#19023)]

Dawn hits the valley with an unusual amount of ease. Dense, dark grey clouds are parted by vast distances of pale blue sky and lined with a receding orange glow. The winds are mild and soft, sweeping lazily through the trees.

Such is the weather that greets Rathos as he wakes from his deep slumber. His bed is within a converted hayloft, which he shares amibly with two other men. Presumably farmer\'s sons eager to make a name of their own some day.

The sunlight begins to pour through the one, large open window of the barn and smacks the woodsman in the face. Although it\'s reasuring warmth is quite pleasant, Rathos has long since learned that it will soon make any further attempt to sleep nearly impossible.

With a yawn and a stretch he summons the energy to stand, grunt and locate his heavier garments. He staggers down the ladder and wobbles outside to releave himself. A few moments later he stands in the open, assesing the situation and wiping the dredges of sleep from his eye.

Rathos is not the only early riser. Brev appears round a corner, still yawning but with carpenter\'s tools in hand. \"Morning,\" he calls over to the other man, raising his free arm. \"Looks like the summer hasn\'t quite deserted us for good yet.\" He gazes up appreciatively at the clear sky. Then, \"Know which of these houses is Saffon\'s? Said I\'d take a look at it for her - suppose I\'d better give her longer to wake though. Women like their sleep, eh?\"

[Rathos(#19023)]

\"So I\'ve been led to beleive. Are you making freinds with the chicken lady?\" Although Rathos\'s tone is good natured he cannot hide completly the sly smile that crosses his face.

Brev quirks an eyebrow. \"Making peace, at least. Think she\'s finally decided I\'m not a threat to \'decent, hard-working folk\'.\" He snorts. \"As if any of us doesn\'t have to work for a living. What of you? She\'s nearer your age than mine, you know.\" A smirk akin to Rathos\' smile pulls up one side of his mouth.

[Rathos(#19023)]

Rathos sucks in a deep, sharp breath and winces, \"nay, sah. That women has far to much bite for this ol\' woodsman. Call me foolish but I prefer them young, pretty and to stupid to question my own stupidity.\" The aging Hawk chuckles breifly before tilting his head, a quizical look coming upon him as he continues. \"For some reason I\'ve yet to have a meaningful relationship with a lady though.\"Rathos shakes his head, \"oh well. I\'m sure the fault is theirs, not mine....\" A long pause. \"Surely.\"

The sun rises a little further over Harthunn village, the ramshackle settlement set up by the refugees from Kierkgard. Two men stand there, both with a rough-edged look that sets them apart from those trying to make a home here. Their topic of conversation, though, is rather more gentle.

Brev lets out a chuckle. \"You forgot energetic and enthusiastic. Or are those not prerequisites? As to the other ... can\'t say. Life\'s short enough without worrying about \'meaningful relationships\'.\" His lips curl at that phrase. \"Most of us get along just fine without them.\" He does, however, look away at that, his gaze slipping southward.

[Siskin(#18371)]

A rolling jaunty tune, strummed lazily, though in a practiced way, on some manner of stringed instrument, heralds the gradual approach of another to the ruins of this old fortress. Soon indeed a portley old fellow emerges from around the bend of a dale along the road stretching south - a large rucksack is slung over his shoulder, but his steps are lively, as if he has only recently awoken. \"Good day, kinsmen!\" he calls cheerily to the conversing pair, \"Might I interest you in my wares, or a song, perhaps?\" A broad separates his whiskered lips.

[Rathos(#19023)]

\"I supose when you spend your whole life expecting it end in a sudden, violent end it\'s easy to overlook the fact that one day you might like to spend it with one of the softer spoken gender.\" The woodsman shrugs, \"Bah, but your right. What in Keirn\'s name would I do with a relationship?\"

The unmistakable sound of music can soon be heard, winding it\'s way down the road, annoucing their newest arrival. Rathos turns and looks at the portly minstral, giving a quick wave and calling back. \"Good day. Come an show us these wares.\" The woodsman winking at Brev, \"An I\'m sure there are plenty around these parts who could use a bit of song and dance, you reckon?\"

Brev chuckles at those first words. \"Aye. Heard anything from Car-\" The words break off as his south-turned gaze focuses on the newcomer. To the rucksack-carrier he calls out, \"Depends. What\'re you selling?\" at Rathos\' comment he adds thoughtfully, \"Folk round here are preparing for some harvest festival or other. Might be they\'d pay well if your singing\'s decent.\"

[Siskin(#18371)]

\"What I am selling, dear fellow, depends on what you need!\" The minstril comes to a stop within a reasonable distance of the pair and gently sets his rucksack on the ground at his feet. The untying of a knot and the flick of a flap lays the parcel out flat, revealing an array of iron tools, knives, jewelry, scarves and handkerchiefs and a fairly large assortment of pipeweed, among other odds and ends to be noticed only by the most scrutinizing of observers. \"If none of these catch your eye, perhaps a bit of breakfast? I have fresh apples, first of the crop, radishes, and some dry beans.\" The man then sits by falling unceremoniously onto his buttocks and postures the instrument in his lap, adding, \"It is precisely this festival for which I have come - hardly a better time is to be found for trading, in this part of the country.\" He smiles then to Rathos and asks, \"You seem like a merry fellow. Would you like to sing something for your stolid friend, while I play the melody?\" He idly plucks at a string, tuning it with his opposing hand.

[Rathos(#19023)]

Rathos smiles widly but shakes his head, \"Tis been said my singing more closly resembles the sound a bear makes after you\'ve woken it with a hot poker. But here....\" The woodsman fumbles around in his leather pouch and produces a veryl, hand crafted hawk of surprising detail. \"See if you can get something for this, as it\'s only a hobby for me I care little. I\'m afraid I must see about my daily chores if I wish to be drunk by mid-day. See you around I hope.\" Rathos waves his farewall and ambles towards the refugee village.

Brev has a set of carpenter\'s tools tucked under one arm, and when the merchant spreads out his wares it is to the tools he looks first. \"These seem serviceable,\" he comments, idly testing the point of an awl. \"But I don\'t need any right now. Got any pretty ribbons?\" And Brev, the supposed non-believer in relationships with the fairer sex, peers between the scarves, jewelry and other female adornments.

At Rathos\' hasty exit he chuckles, loudly (though he does raise a hand in farewell). \"It appears you\'re quite the expert at scaring away customers,\" he comments drily to the newcomer.

[Siskin(#18371)]

\"Perhaps,\" says the indicated newcomer as he examines the carved wooden hawk left behind by Rathos, \"but I am also, apparently, an expert in compelling the fleeing customers to abandon something work at least a day\'s bread.\" The old fellow casts aside the instrument and smiles, \"Let me see - something pretty for a lady...\" Rumaging for a moment, he produces an array of headscarves, an ornamental bonnet, a shawl of fine linen, and last of all, a polishes brass mirror. \"Do any of these interest you?\" he asks, before scrounging a little further, after which he bring out a series of small ribbons of the sort worn by halfling girls, displayed on his palm - all three are white, adorned in various ways with lace and frills.

Brev glances up at the merchant\'s first words, and eyes the little carved hawk curiously before peering doubtfully at the array spread out before him. \"The mirror\'s pretty. Pity she\'d have no use for it. Aren\'t the ribbons .. uh, a bit short?\" he asks cluelessly.

[Siskin(#18371)]

\"These are meant for children - I suspect, perhaps naively, that your love interest is at least as old as you are.\" Siskin suddenly falls asleep, ending the scene so B can scoot.

Love interest? At those words Brev springs to his feet like a startled deer. Just as well the new-grown beard hides half his face. \"I - uh, have to go,\" he offers to the other. \"I\'ll take a look at what you\'ve got later, all right? For now - that building\'s the tavern,\" he points to a shack looking no less ramshackle than all the rest, \"and if you played a ditty or two I fancy you\'ll receive a good breakfast.\" Nodding to the other man, he swiftly strides away.

Later ...

[Rathos(#19023)]

The midday sun beats down with relentless furry, blasting the lands below with its mild autum warmth. A subtle breeze plays across the valley, just cool enough to be refreshing to those working in the fields. Rathos walks amiably past the refugees, gathering their first harvest, and onwards towards Safron\'s hut. In his hand he carries a large waterskin, a devious grin lines his face.\"

The fellow with his back to Rathos does not appear to notice the grin. Brev is balanced part-way up a rickety-looking ladder, affixing new shingles to gaps in the wall of the dwelling. At the sound of footsteps he turns his head and squints downward, wiping a forearm across his eyes. \"Don\'t suppose that\'s going spare?\" he asks hopefully.

[Rathos(#19023)]

\"Just so happens, t\'was intended for you anyhow.\" The woodsman lifts the waterskin above his head, \"I thought you might prefer some of the new ale... I just tapped one of the barrels in the Harthunn celler. Between you and me that is.\" Rathos looks about a little conspicously. \"Besides, once them elders are finished with all that reading, who knows how many chances we\'ll get to sit down and sample it.\"

At the first words Brev begins to descend the ladder nimbly at the next he lets out a chuckle. \"Between you and me,\" he repeats the phrase, \"I reckon the elders are less interested in deciphering all that reading than keeping around extra pairs of strong hands to get the settlement ready for the winter. Doubt they\'ll be done any time soon.\"

The pair are standing outside Saffron\'s house, where Brev has been affixing new shingles, taking advantage of the unseasonally warm and dry weather.

[Saffron(#15443)]

\"If they are, I guess they are wiser than they let on.\"

Saffron comes out with a tray of food.

\"The house looks great. Thank you so much.\"

[Rathos(#19023)]

\"Aye. I\'l agree with that.\" Rathos hands Brev the waterskin filled with ale, \"Still, I\'m not to sure that it\'s not all just an act and they\'re as clueless as anyone these days. The aging hawk turns to Saffron and offers a polite nod, \"afternoon, lady. Mind if I steal one of them treats?\"

Saffron smiles at Rathos. \"Help yourself. It\'s harvest time, and food\'s a plenty.\"

Brev reaches out a hand for the waterskin and takes an appreciative drink. \"Not bad,\" he comments, offering it back. \"Thanks for sharing.\" To Saffron\'s praise he, typically, shrugs. \"Needed doing, didn\'t it?\" He lets Rathos take his pick of the food, and then comments, \"Can\'t see what else it could be. What could possibly be of importance in a set of mouldy old scrolls anyway?\" He looks to his companions for answer.

[Rathos(#19023)]

Rathos eagerly snatches a tasty looking morsel off of the tray and takes a heffty bite before collecting his ale-filled waterskin. \"Could be lots a things...\" His words puncutated with ample chewing sounds, \"could be the patterns of deer movement for hunters...... could be... songs of legendary heroes.... or mayhaps... directions to the next cave full of bones.\" The woodsman swallows and hastily tips the waterskin to his lips. \"In my opinion. Tis probably no more than the last words of a dying clan. Their last attempt to make themselves remembered after the forgoil /cleansed/ the lands.\" Rathos voice turns somewhat bitter as he finishes talking and stares at the ground.\"

Brev takes his turn at the tray now, simply reaching for the nearest item. \"Thanks,\" he mumbles in Saffron\'s direction through his first bite, and then once he\'s cleared his mouth, \"You should eat too. Need a lot of energy for dancing, you know.\" He smirks at her, then attends Rathos\' words. \"A dying clan,\" he repeats, the other man\'s bitterness echoed in his own tone. \"Like .. the ones we have now, you mean? Give it a couple more generations and there won\'t be much Dunland left. It\'s all half-rotten.\" His mouth twists, and he looks away.

[Rathos(#19023)]

Rathos nods then looks up again, his dark mood replaced once more with a casual, carefree smile. \"Tis pointless to speculate anyhow. If it is treasure we\'ll know soon enough. If not then at least no one died for it. Well, no one important\" The woodsman chuckles at his own poor joke. \"Anyway, I\'d be a fool to stand here gabbing all day since elder Hack has been on my lazy ass all day. Got some refugees to fix up don\'tcha know.\" Rathos turns to leave, giving Brev a few final words of /advice/, \"in a few generations Keirn himself may have dropped from the heavens. If it is our destiny to be laid to waste then I would have us go gracefully, perhaps in one last battle, than struggle on, desperatly clinging to a meaningless existence. Perhaps what\'s best for the future is to be having fun with our present.\" The aging hawk winks before wobbling away, sucking gleefully on his winesin.

\"Can\'t argue with that,\" Brev agrees to the final words, raising a hand to the departing Rathos before reaching for another item on Saffron\'s tray.