Equinox The Northlands
- Thread starter Knosis
- Start date
Snow quickly fell down through the grey clouds as Aravorn Snowcloak trudged on. His journey had been long. Tracking a large herd of elk was a hell of a lot more tiring than anyone thought it would be. Everyone talked about how relaxing it was to get away from the cities and towns and to just be alone for a little while, but he knew better than what they said and thought. It was tough work, skinning a deer, especially when there are bandits and mercenaries out on the loose.
A small group of mercenaries, about 4 or so men, stood back, watching the young hunter patrol on through the woods. "Maybe we can get some coin off of him," a younger one suggested.
"That's horse shit and you know it is, Elvon," their leader Ardys said.
"It's worth a shot." Daemos, a young dwarf, said.
"Fine. We'll try and get some gold off this guy. But don't think I won't report you to Ralof for disciplinary action later on." The group quickly travelled soon surrounding the young man.
"I'm sorry, but have I done something wrong in these lands?" he asked, confused by why he was surrounded. The group drew their weapons and attacked, slashing at him and stabbing him in the side as he collapsed.
“Over there. I think someone was attacked and left for dead,” Éogan said.
“Damn it, you’re right! We’re close to town though. We can talk to Father once we get there. For now, though, we need to get him back to the palace.” He carefully lifted the man’s body and mounted his horse. About twenty minutes later, they burst through the doors of the palace. “We need a few wise men on him. Now! We found him outside, nearly dead.”
Several hours later, he woke up in a small room, stretched out on a bed. His sides were burning and his throat was raw and dry. The smells of incense burning, and garlic, onions, and beef cooking were thick in the air as the young man groaned in pain. Another young man rushed over to help Aravorn up.
“You were very lucky you survived that attack. My friend Éogan here pointed you out to me. We’ve carried you back here to town, to the palace, where we had to stitch up your wounds to stop the bleeding. I wouldn’t recommend trying to head back home for right now. I have talked to my father, Chief Brethion. I imagine that he would like to talk to you soon.
“Wow, I don’t know what to say, mister, um…”
“I must have forgotten to introduce myself. Sorry about that. I’m Davion. It’s good to meet you, sir.”
“I’m Aravorn, my lord.”
“I’m not a chieftain, lad.” He laughed. “So, what brings you here?”
“I was tracking a group of elk. I’m a hunter. I was trying to get some furs I could sell.”
“I see.” He walked over to where the food had been cooking, scooping a pile of beef and potatoes onto a plate, and pouring some broth into a bowl. He then returned to Aravorn.
“Here. You haven’t eaten in a while.” Davion said as he set the plate down and walked away.
A small group of mercenaries, about 4 or so men, stood back, watching the young hunter patrol on through the woods. "Maybe we can get some coin off of him," a younger one suggested.
"That's horse shit and you know it is, Elvon," their leader Ardys said.
"It's worth a shot." Daemos, a young dwarf, said.
"Fine. We'll try and get some gold off this guy. But don't think I won't report you to Ralof for disciplinary action later on." The group quickly travelled soon surrounding the young man.
"I'm sorry, but have I done something wrong in these lands?" he asked, confused by why he was surrounded. The group drew their weapons and attacked, slashing at him and stabbing him in the side as he collapsed.
“Over there. I think someone was attacked and left for dead,” Éogan said.
“Damn it, you’re right! We’re close to town though. We can talk to Father once we get there. For now, though, we need to get him back to the palace.” He carefully lifted the man’s body and mounted his horse. About twenty minutes later, they burst through the doors of the palace. “We need a few wise men on him. Now! We found him outside, nearly dead.”
Several hours later, he woke up in a small room, stretched out on a bed. His sides were burning and his throat was raw and dry. The smells of incense burning, and garlic, onions, and beef cooking were thick in the air as the young man groaned in pain. Another young man rushed over to help Aravorn up.
“You were very lucky you survived that attack. My friend Éogan here pointed you out to me. We’ve carried you back here to town, to the palace, where we had to stitch up your wounds to stop the bleeding. I wouldn’t recommend trying to head back home for right now. I have talked to my father, Chief Brethion. I imagine that he would like to talk to you soon.
“Wow, I don’t know what to say, mister, um…”
“I must have forgotten to introduce myself. Sorry about that. I’m Davion. It’s good to meet you, sir.”
“I’m Aravorn, my lord.”
“I’m not a chieftain, lad.” He laughed. “So, what brings you here?”
“I was tracking a group of elk. I’m a hunter. I was trying to get some furs I could sell.”
“I see.” He walked over to where the food had been cooking, scooping a pile of beef and potatoes onto a plate, and pouring some broth into a bowl. He then returned to Aravorn.
“Here. You haven’t eaten in a while.” Davion said as he set the plate down and walked away.
Leather boots made hardly a sound as they entered in the room unannounced into the room. A man in a simple black wool cloak brushed back the hood as he entered, drifts of snow still stuck on his shoulders from the outside. He seemed to have been in a hurry to get to where the injured man lay, and had not been stopped by any of guardsmen along the way. He carried an air of importance, his hazel eyes showing relief to see the man was alive and awake.
"Forgive me of the intrusion." His voice seemed to carry far, despite how quiet it had been. "My name is Alastair. I have been sent by Lord Rouke himself to look into the matter of your attack." He said. Alastair, for a Blianian, was shorter than most men. He only stood about 5'10". But he was a broad shouldered lad, and as strong as the wulgar he raised. He was clean shaven, his salt and peppered hair kept short unlike the rest of his brethren. "I hope this isn't a bad time, but I need to ask you questions regarding your attackers." He nodded to Aravorn.
"Forgive me of the intrusion." His voice seemed to carry far, despite how quiet it had been. "My name is Alastair. I have been sent by Lord Rouke himself to look into the matter of your attack." He said. Alastair, for a Blianian, was shorter than most men. He only stood about 5'10". But he was a broad shouldered lad, and as strong as the wulgar he raised. He was clean shaven, his salt and peppered hair kept short unlike the rest of his brethren. "I hope this isn't a bad time, but I need to ask you questions regarding your attackers." He nodded to Aravorn.
Alastair nodded and pulled up a stool next to the man's bed. He groaned as he sat down on it, his right knee letting him know the colder months were coming. "I've been to where you were found. There were several tracks all around, but I'd imagine a lot of them are from your rescuers. I will need to know how many attacked you, and if you can remember what they looked like, I'll need to know descriptions." He said, his kind face falling slightly.
Being left for dead was hard on a man. To have betrayed trust for your fellow man was even harder. "It may be difficult to remember, or even talk about. But if you can, any information would be greatly appreciated. We need to bring them in before they harm anyone else. If they were willing to kill an innocent man for coin, they don't deserve to live as free men anymore."
Being left for dead was hard on a man. To have betrayed trust for your fellow man was even harder. "It may be difficult to remember, or even talk about. But if you can, any information would be greatly appreciated. We need to bring them in before they harm anyone else. If they were willing to kill an innocent man for coin, they don't deserve to live as free men anymore."
"There were something like four or five men. One of them was a dwarf, another was an elf, the third one was I believe a half-elf, and the last was a human. The half-elf appeared to be their leader. Well, he was the one who demanded I hand over any money I had. I didn't have any, and I assume that is why they attacked. I can't remember what they looked like because they attacked me as soon as I said I didn't have any money. I am sorry I can't help more than that. I think they were wearing chain mail and leather armor, if it helps at all."
The man made a face at the descriptions Aravorn gave. They were vague, derogatory descriptions for people who were shaped a bit more oddly than the norm. Dwarf meant a very short man, although here in Bliania, anyone under the size of 5'5" was considered terribly short. Elves were creatures that were fabled to be kindred with the fae when they existed in this world, and were described as short little creatures with sharp features and very long pointed ears. People sometimes had this trait as well, and thus were called as such. Although, never to the face of one without being punched in the gut. Elves, at least in the legends, were tricky beasts that stole children and ate them and most did not take kindly to be called one.
Alastair was one of such who had pointed ears, and the tips of them colored slightly at the terms. He coughed as he continued. "Did they have any horses that you noticed?"
Alastair was one of such who had pointed ears, and the tips of them colored slightly at the terms. He coughed as he continued. "Did they have any horses that you noticed?"
The man sighed softly and nodded. He forced a smile as he stood, his knee protesting as he did. "Very well then." He grunted. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. He turned towards the door and was greeted by woman dressed similarly. The newcomer seemed out of breath, as if she had been running. "If you think of anything else, please send word to me. I will be traveling, but the guards here will at least know how to get word to me." He said. "I hope that you heal well, lad."
He paused, waiting to see if Aravorn or anyone else had anything left to say to him.
He paused, waiting to see if Aravorn or anyone else had anything left to say to him.
The man gave a sharp look. "I would prefer if you know anything else, that you let me know. Otherwise, leave the investigation to the northern army." And with that, he stepped out, the woman turning on his heels to follow him down the hallway of the castle. There were sharp murmurings to be heard, fading as their quick pace took them further away from the room they had been in moments prior.
Outside-- Three men held the horses and wulgar steady in the falling snow. The sun had disappeared a while ago and the cold was becoming bitter. They were well dressed and looked as though they anticipated to stay up this night. Alastair met with them, followed by his woman shadow. The elder man sighed, letting a puff of steam rise from the scarf that now covered the lower half of his mouth. They had a long ride ahead of them. A long ride indeed.
Outside-- Three men held the horses and wulgar steady in the falling snow. The sun had disappeared a while ago and the cold was becoming bitter. They were well dressed and looked as though they anticipated to stay up this night. Alastair met with them, followed by his woman shadow. The elder man sighed, letting a puff of steam rise from the scarf that now covered the lower half of his mouth. They had a long ride ahead of them. A long ride indeed.
Two older men entered the room that Aravorn had been sleeping in. They carried candles for light and wore regal attire. Their cloaks flowed behind them as they entered. "I see you have gotten to meet one of our sons. I am Chief Bréthion, and the man you see next to me is my husband Faelrond. We heard about your attack, and we got some of our wise men to help heal you."
"Thank you, m'lord. Did I hear you say that Faelerond was your husband?"
Bréthion glared at Aravorn. "Yes, I did. You are lucky that I didn't leave you out in the cold. Do you have a problem with the fact that I am married to another man?"
"I am sorry then, sir. I didn't mean to offend. I don't have a problem with it; I just didn't expect it, that's all. I truly didn't mean any offense and I am sorry if I caused any."
"I accept your apology, lad. Anyway, you were very close to death when we brought your here. Stabbed through the side, with several things broken, including your leg and a few ribs. Our wisest men managed to heal you, as I said before. Faelrond and I have been discussing how you would get back to your family, but it appears that you won't be able to travel for quite some time. Your family should know what has happened to you. Either Faelrond or I will write a letter to your parents, letting them know what has happened and that you are alright."
"Thank you, sirs." he responded groggily.
"It's not a problem, lad. We'll need your name, though, to know we are contacting your family.We are also letting them know that you will be staying in the castle here until you feel like you can travel back home safely."
"I'm Aravorn, sir. Aravorn Snowcloak. It is good to meet you. Thank you for contacting them."
"Like I said, it's no problem at all. Besides, it's important that your family knows that you are safe. Now, get some rest for now. We may need your help later." The two older men left the room as Aravorn fell asleep once more.
"Thank you, m'lord. Did I hear you say that Faelerond was your husband?"
Bréthion glared at Aravorn. "Yes, I did. You are lucky that I didn't leave you out in the cold. Do you have a problem with the fact that I am married to another man?"
"I am sorry then, sir. I didn't mean to offend. I don't have a problem with it; I just didn't expect it, that's all. I truly didn't mean any offense and I am sorry if I caused any."
"I accept your apology, lad. Anyway, you were very close to death when we brought your here. Stabbed through the side, with several things broken, including your leg and a few ribs. Our wisest men managed to heal you, as I said before. Faelrond and I have been discussing how you would get back to your family, but it appears that you won't be able to travel for quite some time. Your family should know what has happened to you. Either Faelrond or I will write a letter to your parents, letting them know what has happened and that you are alright."
"Thank you, sirs." he responded groggily.
"It's not a problem, lad. We'll need your name, though, to know we are contacting your family.We are also letting them know that you will be staying in the castle here until you feel like you can travel back home safely."
"I'm Aravorn, sir. Aravorn Snowcloak. It is good to meet you. Thank you for contacting them."
"Like I said, it's no problem at all. Besides, it's important that your family knows that you are safe. Now, get some rest for now. We may need your help later." The two older men left the room as Aravorn fell asleep once more.
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Zaveria
Member
(Elsewhere in the Northern Lands)
Staring into the darkness, the cold biting her fingers and toes, yet her mind was burning, unable to fall asleep. The Feast was done over just about a week ago, but Nerezza could still feel the string of the bow digging into her fingers right before letting the arrow fly. The image of her father turning into ashes as flames surrounded him against a pink and orange sky. The Feast wasn’t large at all, only a handful of people, but anger burned in her when she remembers her sister’s absence. She had sent word to the clan her sister had married into, but she didn’t show her face. Never did she think her father would be taken on such short notice...
Swinging her feet from the bed and taking a breath before getting dressed she recalled all the things her father taught her, showing her what roots and berries are safe to eat, which are good for a salve to teaching her how to hunt and plan. She was trained to be a Chieftain for as long as she can remember, and it was now her duty to stand in her father’s boots. A daunting task, yet a welcome challenge she gladly accepted. Nerezza grabbed her father’s Dunar wool cloak, the wool resting heavily on her shoulders, just as her father’s hands would. She eyes the seam she worked in, shortening the cloak considerably, he father use to tell her that this will be her cloak once she’s big enough to fit, Nerezza smirks a bit, little did they know she’ll only reach dwarf status, even compared to other women in her clan.
The door creaked slightly as she opened it up to the cold darkness outside; she takes a heavy step outside, letting the snow crunch under her feet as she walked. The village was quiet, a good time to observe on how well or poorly the village is getting along. This winter has taken quiet the toll on the small crops the village has, meaning they’ll be relying more on the hunters and miners this winter. Hopefully with the minerals mined they’ll be able to trade it for some grain. She’ll have to soon pick up her bow again and go hunting, word reached three days ago that bandits have been pestering other clans. Since then whenever she couldn’t sleep she would not only look over the village, but patrol the surrounding forest, luckily she hasn’t found any signs of a bandit camp or strange tracks anywhere close to her village.
Her heart still hurt when she thought of her father. He was the only family she had left after her sister got married off to another clan, the one to keep her safe, the one to make her stronger. His death was a huge loss to the clan, but an even greater one for Nerezza. She feels her throat constrict and ache every night she can’t fall asleep. She finds herself wishing for better days where the hurt will be less, but she needs to remain strong, for the clan is now resting on her shoulders and she can’t buckle under the weight, no matter what.
Staring into the darkness, the cold biting her fingers and toes, yet her mind was burning, unable to fall asleep. The Feast was done over just about a week ago, but Nerezza could still feel the string of the bow digging into her fingers right before letting the arrow fly. The image of her father turning into ashes as flames surrounded him against a pink and orange sky. The Feast wasn’t large at all, only a handful of people, but anger burned in her when she remembers her sister’s absence. She had sent word to the clan her sister had married into, but she didn’t show her face. Never did she think her father would be taken on such short notice...
Swinging her feet from the bed and taking a breath before getting dressed she recalled all the things her father taught her, showing her what roots and berries are safe to eat, which are good for a salve to teaching her how to hunt and plan. She was trained to be a Chieftain for as long as she can remember, and it was now her duty to stand in her father’s boots. A daunting task, yet a welcome challenge she gladly accepted. Nerezza grabbed her father’s Dunar wool cloak, the wool resting heavily on her shoulders, just as her father’s hands would. She eyes the seam she worked in, shortening the cloak considerably, he father use to tell her that this will be her cloak once she’s big enough to fit, Nerezza smirks a bit, little did they know she’ll only reach dwarf status, even compared to other women in her clan.
The door creaked slightly as she opened it up to the cold darkness outside; she takes a heavy step outside, letting the snow crunch under her feet as she walked. The village was quiet, a good time to observe on how well or poorly the village is getting along. This winter has taken quiet the toll on the small crops the village has, meaning they’ll be relying more on the hunters and miners this winter. Hopefully with the minerals mined they’ll be able to trade it for some grain. She’ll have to soon pick up her bow again and go hunting, word reached three days ago that bandits have been pestering other clans. Since then whenever she couldn’t sleep she would not only look over the village, but patrol the surrounding forest, luckily she hasn’t found any signs of a bandit camp or strange tracks anywhere close to her village.
Her heart still hurt when she thought of her father. He was the only family she had left after her sister got married off to another clan, the one to keep her safe, the one to make her stronger. His death was a huge loss to the clan, but an even greater one for Nerezza. She feels her throat constrict and ache every night she can’t fall asleep. She finds herself wishing for better days where the hurt will be less, but she needs to remain strong, for the clan is now resting on her shoulders and she can’t buckle under the weight, no matter what.
The snow gently fell with soft 'pafts' as they hit the ground and everyone under the cast of grey clouds that hung low over the small village. Strange purples and reds lined the horizon, although the sun could not be seen yet, and most likely would be hidden for most of the day. Ewyn quietly stepped out, rope looped about his broad shoulders, taking in the quiet scene. He was normally up at this time, usually helping the hellish inferno of the black smith's furnace come back to life from the night prior of old Elev sleeping over the night. But there hadn't been much in the way of orders, and so the young apprentice was given the day off.
Much to his reluctance, Ewyn would have added. The young lad knew little other than the hot flames and the sparks of molding metal into something useful. And the occasional time, he was caught with old Elev's swords or spears, practicing with them despite them freshly built blades belonging to someone else. Free time was not something Ewyn was use to, and idleness wore on him.
He knew most of this quietness was due to the old Chieftain passing into the next world recently. People walked around, as if tip toeing, not wanting the disturb the mournfulness of the friends that had known him well. It had been a sudden passing, and even Ewyn himself had felt the pang of loss hearing that their beloved leader had fallen. The daughter had taken the position of chieftain by family right, and no one challenged the right. Not immediately. But the young lad had his doubts on whether she could lead this clan successfully.
The sound of another person's boots crunching the cold snow below caught Ewyn's attention, and he turned slightly to see the woman in question. He grunted his greeting, eyeing her slightly. "Bit early for people to be stirrin'." He said, his voice carrying despite having spoken quietly. "Where ya off to?" He asked, mild curiosity getting the best of him.
Much to his reluctance, Ewyn would have added. The young lad knew little other than the hot flames and the sparks of molding metal into something useful. And the occasional time, he was caught with old Elev's swords or spears, practicing with them despite them freshly built blades belonging to someone else. Free time was not something Ewyn was use to, and idleness wore on him.
He knew most of this quietness was due to the old Chieftain passing into the next world recently. People walked around, as if tip toeing, not wanting the disturb the mournfulness of the friends that had known him well. It had been a sudden passing, and even Ewyn himself had felt the pang of loss hearing that their beloved leader had fallen. The daughter had taken the position of chieftain by family right, and no one challenged the right. Not immediately. But the young lad had his doubts on whether she could lead this clan successfully.
The sound of another person's boots crunching the cold snow below caught Ewyn's attention, and he turned slightly to see the woman in question. He grunted his greeting, eyeing her slightly. "Bit early for people to be stirrin'." He said, his voice carrying despite having spoken quietly. "Where ya off to?" He asked, mild curiosity getting the best of him.
Zaveria
Member
Nodding her head in response she greets him with a quiet, "Morning". The slightest bit of sound was amplified by the silence around them, it could be compared to the same silence when on a hunt, her favorite part. Every sound loud and clear, yet filled with silence.
The young man towered over her. Throwing a glace over she sorts through the faces of clan members, trying to place him. He's the apprentice of the village's blacksmith, Ewyn. His size might have been intimidating to someone else of her size, but she's use to it and has learnt in the past, that strength doesn't always come with size. She found it easy to stand in front of him, her back straight and head held high.
"Doing what I was taught to," It might have been a bit of a vague answer, "It's common knowledge about the bandits running around, you haven't seen anything that might seem as if we're in their sights?" She hasn't seen tracks yes, but she knew he was up early every morning, this is just the first time he's approached her, he possibly might have seen something. "That, and I'm on my way back to go get my bow."
The young man towered over her. Throwing a glace over she sorts through the faces of clan members, trying to place him. He's the apprentice of the village's blacksmith, Ewyn. His size might have been intimidating to someone else of her size, but she's use to it and has learnt in the past, that strength doesn't always come with size. She found it easy to stand in front of him, her back straight and head held high.
"Doing what I was taught to," It might have been a bit of a vague answer, "It's common knowledge about the bandits running around, you haven't seen anything that might seem as if we're in their sights?" She hasn't seen tracks yes, but she knew he was up early every morning, this is just the first time he's approached her, he possibly might have seen something. "That, and I'm on my way back to go get my bow."
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(several months after Aravorn was attacked)
Finally the wedding day between Davion and Aravorn was here. The two men walked into the village center and found an older priest there. Other people soon began to sit around the various fires that burned brightly outside. The priest then began the ceremony.
"We are gathered here today to witness a union of two souls in marriage. Now who will speak for the groom?" he asked.
"I will speak for the groom." Faelrond said. "He has proven himself to be a great warrior, capable of immense good for the village. He is deserving of a loving husband. He has defended us from great evils and rescued people who have needed rescuing."
"And what about the other groom?" the priest asked, glancing over at Aravorn.
"I will speak for Aravorn. He has helped defend our people and helped with repairing anything that needed to be fixed. He has helped other people with countless tasks since he arrived here, and is deserving of a loving husband."
"I know pronounce you groom and groom. You may kiss your husband."
he to men quickly kissed, then headed home. There was still much work to do, especially with the bandits.
Finally the wedding day between Davion and Aravorn was here. The two men walked into the village center and found an older priest there. Other people soon began to sit around the various fires that burned brightly outside. The priest then began the ceremony.
"We are gathered here today to witness a union of two souls in marriage. Now who will speak for the groom?" he asked.
"I will speak for the groom." Faelrond said. "He has proven himself to be a great warrior, capable of immense good for the village. He is deserving of a loving husband. He has defended us from great evils and rescued people who have needed rescuing."
"And what about the other groom?" the priest asked, glancing over at Aravorn.
"I will speak for Aravorn. He has helped defend our people and helped with repairing anything that needed to be fixed. He has helped other people with countless tasks since he arrived here, and is deserving of a loving husband."
"I know pronounce you groom and groom. You may kiss your husband."
he to men quickly kissed, then headed home. There was still much work to do, especially with the bandits.
The man gave pause, regarding the woman with a raised brow. To her question, he scratched his beard for a moment, the wheels in his head slowly turning. Up at the break of dawn, yes, but functional past the usual grunts and morning greetings? You were asking way too much of the young lad.
"I recall a few travelers comin' in a day or so ago. Needed to 'ave a sword repaired. They were from the North Lord's army, or at least that is Master Elev's guess. Said they'd been trailin' some criminals in these parts, was askin' questions and the lot like you are now. Figured they didn't stop here though."
"They might still be 'ere. They've not picked their blade up yet." He suggested with a shrug.
"I recall a few travelers comin' in a day or so ago. Needed to 'ave a sword repaired. They were from the North Lord's army, or at least that is Master Elev's guess. Said they'd been trailin' some criminals in these parts, was askin' questions and the lot like you are now. Figured they didn't stop here though."
"They might still be 'ere. They've not picked their blade up yet." He suggested with a shrug.