The Winds of Ysgard - Part One

[DMThaane]

Unlike Bendalitz, Loke managed to supress his chuckle. "I understand the pain of loss but this world is full of things to care about. You cannot replace your mother but neither is it healthy to cling too tightly to a ghost."

Nor was it healthy to carry a ghost around your neck in a locket.

"I never knew my parents so at least I never lost them. I've found there's much more to family than blood."

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard winced at Bendalitz's laughter, and scowled up at him. "You shouldn't jest at others' pain, especially if you don't know what they've been through. If they can laugh at themselves, then by all means laugh with them. But I can't."

He turned away, and stared at the table as Loke added his opinion. They just didn't understand... his mother had been everything to him. The others had friends or kin in their pasts, but he'd had none until coming to the mainland. How could Bendalitz not be bothered by the fact that he might never see his parents again?

He drained his cup of water and stood, leaving his breakfast half-eaten on the table. "I'm going out for some fresh air."

 

[DMThaane]

Loke watched Rikhard leave. "He seems nice." He drained the last of his water. "They all do. I do hope any lives they take will be an emotional affair. Not everyone is suited to have cold blood stain their hands."

He stood, stretching again. "Well, I have things to pack away and a horse to prepare. Perhaps we will even be off before midday." He chuckled to himself and headed for the door.

 

[Gryphos]

Bendalitz nodded as Richard left, and then as Loke left. He'd clearly struck a nerve with Rikhard, which was a shame – he seemed a decent, if rather spineless fellow. Part of him just wanted to grab him by the collar and say 'cheer up, you miserable sod'. Ah well, some people it seems are just predisposed to being depressing company.

But now he was alone, at last. With Einan and Troia having a spat, and Addison and Farrun offering counselling, Rikhard going for fresh air and Loke packing, it was just him. He sat back and crossed his arms in thought.

 

[Tom]

"Thank you, Farrun," Einan said with a sigh. As always, the dragonrider's sensible, steadfast presence calmed him; he could feel his anger draining away. "This is the first time Troia and I have had a serious fight. We've clashed over stupid things, of course, but never the important ones. I...I just can't understand how she could be so callous about killing. And killing people, no less."

He left Wind's stall and leaned against its shut door, deep in thought, though he didn't know exactly what he was thinking about. His mind was so murky, and filled with so many different cares and concerns, that he couldn't think straight. He was starting to wonder if coming on this journey had been such a good idea.

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard didn't feel comfortable sitting outside the tavern, so he wandered into the stables instead. Einan and Farrun were there, close to the stall that held Einan's horse. Rikhard nodded to them in acknowledgement as he moved to see how Dushan was doing.

 

[Nimue]

Farrun idly rubbed Boar's shoulder, checking for signs of saddle wear, and listened to Einan. After a moment, he said quietly, "Words are not yet actions, Einan. She spoke as she did in anger. Courage, maybe. But I do not think that if she held a knife in her hands and one of the Yvalhyn injured before her, that she would do it without a thought or without emotion. Maybe not with pity, but fear, terror, rage. And if it should ever come to that, I hope that you will try to understand what brought her there."

Dark thoughts, darker memories. "By the Gods, I hope will not have to face them!" he rumbled. "Enough. It's a fearful thing to think of. May we have many weeks of tedious slogging through brush and mire, and be so bored that we wish for a rainstorm to liven up the day." He gave a half-smile that did not reach his eyes, and leaned back against the stable post.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison was looking forward to facing the Yvalhyn. An arrow in the brain's more mercy than they deserve, the baby-killing, slave-driving…

She wasn't sure what Troia was feeling. She waited patiently for a sign of calming, a change of topic. Addison broke silence humming a tune—one that brought up memories, some pleasant, some not—but it's still a good tune.

A relaxing tune as well. Too relaxing. Addison thought she'd pack her things while humming, but now she just sat on the bed. Her tears had stopped. Fingers wiped the evidence from her cheeks.

 

[Nimue]

A livid sunset was gathering on the western horizon. Cast against the sky were the shadows of tors and hummocks, proud against the flat land. Sverenmoor. The air was cool and heavy, stirring like river water around them, and faint, mournful birdsong heralded the twilight. Mist would creep up from the pools as night fell but at least, from the retreating clouds, they would sleep dry tonight--as dry as moorland moss and fog would let them.

They had made it up the winding road onto the moor, and the horses were sweated. A bridge in the lowlands had been washed out by spring rains and the delay of finding a good ford had cost them enough time that it'd be foolish to press on through the night to the next homely town. They'd be sleeping under the night sky. And after that last inn, that prospect didn't sound half bad...

Farrun thumped the carthorses' gear into the back of the wagon, and did his best to brush the horsehair from his surcoat. With a glance up at the level of the glowing sun, he turned towards the others. They were all looking after their mounts, some with more familiarity than others. The campsite was as good a spot as could be found out here, a slight hollow with some bare trees nearby that might yield good firewood. The murmur of running water belied the presence of a creek over the next hill, where they'd watered the horses.

A distant howl rose from the north, eerie and strangely resonant. Farrun shivered unexpectedly. Must be the shape of the moor, to make the sound echo like that. But they'd have little to fear from wolves in this season of plentiful rabbits and fawns, and with a good fire going.

Speaking of game… Farrun reached into the wagon and drew out a quiver and a curved bow, fishing a bowstring from an oilskin pouch. The bow was shorter than he liked--standard Queensguard issue--but it would serve for a quick hunting trip. He cleared his throat and spoke aloud. “Addison, Einan… I’d like to see your hunting magic in motion. It’d be good to have meat for our dinner that’s not smoked or salted. We should have enough daylight left to bag something.â€

 

[DMThaane]

Loke turned towards the howl. An odd noise and one that seemed to echo strangely in the air, but then, wolves could be talented deceivers. He'd once heard a mere three wolves imitate a pack of ten or more and it was far from his only experience with them. At the height of the war they had often followed his Raiders, drawn by the blood of the wounded.

He looked around the camp. There were no wounded to draw them. There was nothing to fear.

"So why do you quiver?" he asked Snorri, playing with the horse's muzzle. "Is the Huntress or the Dragonrider not enough of an assurance? What mere wolves could threaten such a party as ours?"

Snorri was the calmer for his touch and his words but still the horse was not his usual self. Hroarr had been fearless in the face of wolves, as he had been fearless in the face of anything, but Snorri was not his sire, any more than Asbjorn was his father, and was untried against such things as beasts and battle.

"Very well," he said, pulling out his splinted bracers and strapping them onto his forearms. "And I will wear my throwing axes to bed but only because you are being such a milksop."

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison took out her bow and both shockers. She contemplated her axe, but that would make hunting cumbersome. The grappler might serve a purpose other than spooking a buck…

She traveled light today, and dressed down. The buckskin skirt was comfortable and it matched her boots. Straps of her purse and quiver criss-crossed over her leather vest. She would hunt without a cloak, weather permitting. She wanted to go barefoot, but she was still breaking in her new boots—and they did make the outfit work. Fashion world's made me soft, it has.

"I suppose we might spot an eight-pointer," she said to Farrun. To Einan and Troia, she added, "Any chance Ari knows how to track a buck? If it's magic Farrun wants, I could put an idea in Air's head."

If Ari was to join the hunt, Addison would show him an image of a buck and leave it at that. That's the trick to not getting winded by me magic. A simple command, and let the beast run with it.

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard shivered at the howls that echoed throughout the campsite, and stroked Dushan's mane in an attempt to calm them both. He knew about wolves from the little Caradoc and Eoran had told him, and he could guess more. They seemed a lot like sharks, which he was much more familiar with. Sharks with fur that traveled on land, and in packs.

"Do you think they'll come closer?" he asked, looking at Farrun.

 

[Gryphos]

Bendalitz was not particularly concerned about the howls. Wolves did not frighten him, and the magics of the wilderness always incited more fascination in him than fear. After seeing to his horse Od, he went over to the wagon and took out an axe. He usually wasn't one for manual labour, but when it involved being alone to his thoughts in the quiet dark of the night, he could certainly settled to swing an axe.

"I'll get some wood." He slung his crossbow off his back and dumped it in the wagon, before setting off in the direction of the trees, axe over his shoulder.

 

[Nimue]

"It'd be good to have such a fine nose with us," Farrun agreed. "Troia, you are welcome to come if you'd prefer the tedium of stalking game to the tedium of sitting and waiting for the fire to catch," he added, with a small smile.

"I'd not worry about the wolves," he told Rikhard, warmly. "'Tis spring. They won't be hungry enough to be foolish. And approaching a campfire with folk around it and half a herd of Queensguard horses--that'd be foolish."

"I'll put a ward up before we sleep, and we'll watch in shifts, but I'm more concerned about stray thieves in the night than I am beasts," Farrun said with a sigh. "Beasts have sense." Moorfolk could be strange, and that was no mistake.

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard nodded, not entirely reassured. "You're probably right. Beasts may have sense, but some men have evil motives." He'd say no more about that.

"Is there anything I can help with before the others get back from the hunt?" He'd happily prepare supper for them all, but that would have to wait.

 

[Nimue]

Farrun glanced around the camp. "There's the bedrolls to be laid out, but I expect everyone'll pick their own place. And the ladies will have to find themselves a spot--within shouting distance. We'll need to dig a latrine trench, somewhere with a little privacy, and far from the creek. Digging's not as much fun as hunting or wood-gathering, and filling it back in is even less," Farrun said apologetically, "But no one will have to do it two nights in a row. We'll take shifts on everything."

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard nodded again and started looking around for a shovel. "I can do the digging tonight. I'm no stranger to hard work."

He found a shovel and a fair place to dig, just behind a little ridge covered in trees. It was within calling distance of the camp, but out of direct sight. He set to work with ready hands and a clenched jaw, soon falling into a steady rhythm. Push down, swing up. Push down, swing up.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

"Thanks for volunteering," Addison said to Rikhard. "Just don't wear yourself out too much. I mean to put fresh meat on our table tonight, but I don't mean to cook it. Not if all o' you mean to enjoy the taste."

Her bow shouldered, Addison waited patiently for the hunting party to head out.

 

[DMThaane]

“I'll build up the fire until Bendalitz returns,†Loke said. “And I'll take the first watch. I've never needed much in the way of sleep.â€

 

[Tom]

Einan shrugged his quiver over his shoulder and strung his bow, listening to the howls echo across the moor. He resisted the urge to hunch up his shoulders; this wide, sweeping space made him uneasy. It was far too open. There was too much sky. He missed the foothills, and the familiar embrace of hill and dale, and the closeness of trees whose branches made the sky smaller overhead. He felt so exposed out here.

"Stay safe," Troia said, looking up from repairing a broken strap on Goldmane's bridle. It had snapped earlier in the day, but after Einan had applied a slapdash fix, it had been able to hold for a little while longer.

Einan nodded in return, and smiled tightly. Tension still brooded between himself and Troia; they'd made up on the surface, but beneath there was still resentment and anger on both sides. He sighed. If he'd known what this journey would do to their relationship, he probably wouldn't have agreed to undertake it. But perhaps it was good for them--to fight, to weather the storms, and come out stronger for going through it.

Shaking his head, he turned away, and joined the small hunting party preparing to set out. He found himself next to Addison, and nodded to her. "Ready to hunt?"