dian
Apprentice Scribe
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Posts: 100
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Post by dian on Jul 25, 2011 12:39:22 GMT -5
Nikki had been walking around the grounds for sometime now, trying to pass the time. She heard a horn blast. She smiled and made her way back to the main area. Finally, something to do. She set off at a run for no other reason then to exercise, and was near the tents very quick. Spirit was dancing behind her, not caring if she kept up since she knew her owner would stop eventually.
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Dian helped bunt put up his tent, which was a little bit bigger than hers. They made sure everything was set down and then Bunt brought out a collapsible chair and set it out. She hadn't seen a chair like that before, since she was normally in the palace, she didn't get to see some of the, odd to her, things in the village. Though that chair probably wouldn't have been one of them. She nodded, she had set a few fires when she was traveling with her father, but when Bunt showed her a different way of doing it, she thought it was probably quicker than her fathers way.
"Yeah I have my knives, and my bow," her bow was in the tent, but she had all three of her knives on her belt. She pulled each of them out,the seax, the throwing knife, and the couriers knife given to her by her mother. "and my tinder box... is right here." She said grabbing it from her pack that was right next to her. It took her a few seconds to search through the pack, but it had been close to the top so it didn't take to long. Dian then re-sheathed the couriers knife and the throwing knife, in case Bunt wanted her to try. Then as an after thought, she wondered how Bunt would react to her carrying a couriers knife. She'd have to explain later, so she gathered her thoughts now so she didn't hesitate when someone asked her.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 26, 2011 13:20:25 GMT -5
Bunt nodded and checked out each of her knives. They were in excellent condition. “I see ya know how ter take care o’ them. Thas good,” he said as he handed them back to her. He watched her start up the fire, “Good job.” He praised her and then eyed the courier knife, noting she had gotten a bit flustered when he’d been looking at it. “Courier knife, eh? How’d ya come by it an’ do ya know how ta use it properly?” Bunt then added before she could answer, “don’ worry, ya can keep it. Personally I think we should all haf more knives, specially throwin’ knives.” Bunt winked at her, “I carry three myself!”
After the fire was going good, Bunt put some plump beef steaks on his spit and set it in the holder so the steaks hung over the fire. Every so often he would turn the spit and sprinkle a bit of garlic and oregano on them. Meanwhile he had wrapped huge golden potatoes in wetted grape leaves and lined the fire pit with them. Occasionally he turned them, squeezing them after a while to see if they were done. When they were nearly soft, he placed a couple of handfuls of rinsed green spinach and beet leaves in the pot of boiling water and added some salt. Although the others were nearly finished with their meals by the time he was done cooking, he didn’t care. The steaks were cooked just the way he liked them with a bit of pink still in the middle when the potatoes were finished and the greens were still perky, though hot and not too crispy. He dished out food for Dian and Ivy and himself. He saw Tory eyeing him and Rick and Ringulf and wondered why. “Bee in yer bonnet, girl?” Bunt asked her as he licked the smoky steak juice off his fingers.
“I was just thinking this is wasting a lot of firewood, having three fire pits.” Tory retorted, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Seems like if we pooled our recourses, we could all eat like kings and have less work if we only used one fire and coordinated our meals somewhat.”
Rick looked at his own fire thoughtfully, thinking he wouldn’t mind taking turns cooking with a few other people and said as much.
“I will cook breakfast if you like, and we can try it out. Anyone mind my special griddle cakes for breakfast?” Tory had developed some pan-fried cakes that were similar to Fin’s sweet and fluffy pan cakes, but were thicker, heartier and contained some protein instead of them being all cake and sugar. She knew Ringulf and Mylia had had them before and seemed to like them, but she was interested in what other people thought of them. She thought Bunt might be a bit more particular and if he turned out to like them, then she would know they were a success.
Bunt shrugged, “Sounds alrigh’ ta me.” He didn’t figure Ivy would mind if the chores were divided among more people and Dian probably wouldn’t care either way since it was all so new to her. “Crack o’ dawn remember?” Bunt chuckled when Tory groaned, forgetting that part.
“Sure. Fine, crack of dawn,” Tory agreed. “Ringulf, you in?”
“I got dinner tomorrow,” Rick piped up. “We’ll be having roasted goose, so chip in the stuff to go with it.” He pointed at the gander hanging high up in the tree, its wings hanging down.
Then another thought occurred to Tory, “Ringulf?” she asked, lowering her voice for him and Mylia to hear instead of all the others too. “I heard we have to take some three week cooking class when we are in our third year, is that true?” She asked hesitantly. She really didn’t think such a cooking class would do much for her, since from what she had seen she was already cooking far beyond the skills of the majority of rangers she had met. “Can I test out of it or something? I mean, really, I grew up in the kitchens of Meric and Coltraine and have been cooking all kinds of things for feasts since I was five. I spent most of that year in Gallica cooking most of the meals for Patrick and me, so I know how to cook on the road too, as you well know.” She pitched her case. “I just don’t see how a basic ranger cooking class is going to benefit me; in fact I could probably teach circles around the one who teaches it.” As soon as she said that last bit, she regretted it. She didn’t want to go giving Ringulf any ideas. “Well, maybe not, but still I don’t think I need the class, do you?” She amended quickly.
She heard Bunt chuckle and wondered if he had over heard her request but he seemed to be laughing at something Ivy had said. Tory turned back to Ringulf, chewing on her lower lip nervously.
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Bunt finished up his meal just as Rick had gotten the bonfire for the evenings gathering burning with flames leaping four or more feet into the air. He told Ivy to show Dian how to clean and stow the camp gear and brought out his pipe, joining Ringulf in a smoke. When the girls were finished he said, “Now Dian, les jes see this ole puppy of yers. What’s his name agin?” Bunt said around the pipe in his mouth. “He’s a cute little feller, isn’t he Rick?”
Rick nodded and patted the dog on his head and then scratched down his chest. “Looks to be in good shape too. Better keep him away from Ringulf though,” Rick whispered in Dian’s ear, “I hear Skandian’s like to eat dogs!” Then he stepped away to greet some guests that came to sit by the bonfire. Soon there was a crowd gathered it around and someone started to play a mandolin.
Bunt kept a straight face at Rick’s comment and then asked Dian, “ya going ta train him? Can he do any tricks yet?”
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dian
Apprentice Scribe
this status thing reminds me of Facebook
Posts: 100
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Post by dian on Jul 26, 2011 14:03:11 GMT -5
She was happy with Bunts praise, she liked to keep her knives in good shape, mostly because her mother always did too. Then Bunt asked her the obvious question and she answered, trying not to hesitate. "My mum is courier, the day I was apprenticed to be a ranger she also planned for me to be a courier, though i never wanted to. Before I could explain what happened she gave me a necklace and a couriers knife to congratulate me. When I did tell her though she just walked off, I haven't really talked to her since. Oh, and yeah, she taught me how to use it," Dian said, and at the end she muttered, almost inaudible, something about having crazy parents who taught her how to use weapons when she was so young.
Dian was glad she could keep it, as much as she disliked her mom, she still wanted to keep something of hers, and the necklace and knife where all she had. Then Tory piped up about making the cooking work load easier. Dian bit her cheek a little bit as everyone started taking jobs. Dian wasn't much of a cook just yet, having only fried meat over a campfire a few times while traveling. She figured that she would just help do the cleaning up, that way she was at least doing something.
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After everyone had finished eating, Bunt had Ivy show her how to clean and put everything away. When they where done Bunt mentioned her pup. In a quick response, she whistled and the pup came trotting out. Rick patted Obidian as Dian answered Bunt, "Her names Obsidian." Then Rick said that Skandians ate dogs and Dian gave Rick a quick glare, she doubted anyone, not even a Skandian, would eat someone else's pet, that is if they did eat dogs. "Yah I'm training her, so far she only knows to come when I whistle, to sit, to lay down, and to be quiet. Though she doesn't like to sit." Right on cue Obsidian stopped sitting in front of Rick and layed down by Dian. Dian brushed away some of the burrs that got stuck on the pup from who knows where and then patted Obsidian's head.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 27, 2011 9:56:14 GMT -5
“Sure. Fine, crack of dawn,” Tory agreed. “Ringulf, you in?”
"Oh absolutely, one big family here, just keep me away from Rick's succotash, last time I ate that.....well anyway Bunt can tell you, it wasn't for the feint of heart!"
“I got dinner tomorrow,” Rick piped up. “We’ll be having roasted goose, so chip in the stuff to go with it.” He pointed at the gander hanging high up in the tree, its wings hanging down.
"Now goose I can do and that will go very nicely with the turtle soup I will be making, I gotta use that meat or I will have to smoke it for the trail." Ringulf added.
Then another thought occurred to Tory, “Ringulf?” she asked, lowering her voice for him and Mylia to hear instead of all the others too. “I heard we have to take some three week cooking class when we are in our third year, is that true?” She asked hesitantly. She really didn’t think such a cooking class would do much for her, since from what she had seen she was already cooking far beyond the skills of the majority of rangers she had met. “Can I test out of it or something? I mean, really, I grew up in the kitchens of Meric and Coltraine and have been cooking all kinds of things for feasts since I was five. I spent most of that year in Gallica cooking most of the meals for Patrick and me, so I know how to cook on the road too, as you well know.” She pitched her case. “I just don’t see how a basic ranger cooking class is going to benefit me; in fact I could probably teach circles around the one who teaches it.” As soon as she said that last bit, she regretted it. She didn’t want to go giving Ringulf any ideas.
"I don't know Tory I know you are a great cook but I would not pass up an opportunity to learn something that might benefit your vocation, it is not just the cooking, it is specialized nutrition that we as rangers should be aware of in the conditions we face, some practical herbalism and most especially ways to catch, harvest and prepare many foods that are not found in your local market. take these cattail potatoes and wild scallion for instance. If nothing else you may be a help to the teacher and the students around you, that is always a good reason to be there and who knows you may pick up some information you actually don't already know!" he kinda chuckled this out and gave her a teasing grin, after he heard a carefully disguised snort from Bunt's direction. "I mean no matter how much we know do you think you won't get anything out of it?"
“Well, maybe not, but still I don’t think I need the class, do you?” She amended quickly.
She heard Bunt chuckle and wondered if he had over heard her request but he seemed to be laughing at something Ivy had said. Tory turned back to Ringulf, chewing on her lower lip nervously.
Ringulf munched on some of her pine nut and fiddlehead salad with the light flavorful olive oil and red wine vinegar dressing,
"Nope, I think it is all crap, food is food, might as well eat road kill...now this on the other hand is pretty damn tasty, and your pancakes are even better than Fin's, but you tell her that and I WILL deny it."
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 29, 2011 8:37:47 GMT -5
Ringulf kinda chuckled this out and gave her a teasing grin, after he heard a carefully disguised snort from Bunt's direction. "I mean no matter how much we know do you think you won't get anything out of it?"
Tory considered his words for a few moments, looking sideways at him and shrugged, “Maybe. I suppose,” she muttered, knowing she was defeated. She hated sitting in classrooms. Maybe this would be a hands-on class though and they would go out in the field it might be bearable then. She poked at the fire with a stick, sulking.
"Nope, I think it is all crap, food is food, might as well eat road kill...now this on the other hand is pretty damn tasty, and your pancakes are even better than Fin's, but you tell her that and I WILL deny it." Ringulf declared.
Tory half-grinned at him, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She said soberly and then sighed in defeat. “Oh well, I suppose I will survive the class.” She took some comfort in the fact that Tam and Mylia would likely be stuck there right along with her.
When all the food was eaten and everything cleaned up and the cook fires were doused, Tory spent a bit of time gathering some firewood for the morning meal. She then delivered another armful of wood to Rick’s bonfire and then claimed a log just a little bit back from the fire, right in front of where Bunt sat leaning back in his camp chair. The log she was on was just big enough to fit three small sized people on but currently was empty. Then Tory sat back to listen to the stories and songs, hoping she was far enough in the background that they wouldn’t call on her to do any entertaining as they went around the fire. Traditionally each person in the circle had a chance to stand up and sing or tell a story or something. Tory had no desire to be in the limelight so she ducked down, pulled her feet up on the log and lay her head on her knees, listening.
After a while she heard voices behind her and she turned, making a show of adjusting her seat on the log and then rested her head on her knees again. She could now see that Rick had joined Bunt and they were talking very softly about recruiting people for Bunt’s team. Tory’s breath caught as she realized the lithe shape between them was none other than apprentice Dustin of Greenwood Fief. She pretended to be asleep and listened as they discussed strategy and who to get onto Bunt’s and Dustin’s teams. The whole time she was really trying to get a good look at Dustin whose face was occasionally lit up by the bonfire’s flickering glare and then cast into shadow again when someone up front moved between him and the fire.
Tory had seen Dustin at the Harvest Faire last year and thought he was pretty handsome, but she didn’t figure he had even noticed her. Even if he had noticed her, the chances of him actually taking an interest in her were slim and none. He was likely going to graduate this weekend and be given his silver leaf; at least that was the talk she’d overheard. She wondered what fief he would be assigned to. She also wondered when Crowley was going to make those announcements since he hadn’t done so this evening. These thoughts led her to her own rather unusual arrangement. Would Tandar show up at the Gathering? If so, would he be going back to Meric and she with him? She still had mixed feelings about that. She’d learned a lot from Ringulf and from Fin who was teaching her all kinds of Skandian crafts and even how to use a forge and make swords and knives. There was also the cooking and Tory found she loved Skandian food, especially when Fin cooked it. She would miss that almost as much as she would miss Mylia if she were to be assigned back to Tandar. Yet she knew Tandar was a good teacher and had a different approach to situations from what Ringulf did. She could learn a lot from them both. ‘ah well,’ she thought, ‘whatever happens, happens. I’ll just roll with it.’ She figured it wasn’t going to do any good to worry about it and within two days she would have an answer.
She did hope Tandar would come to the Gathering though, because she wanted to make sure he was okay. Brandwyn had written and said she was getting regular letters from him, but they really didn’t tell Brandwyn much about what he was doing or where he was, only that he wasn’t dead in a ditch someplace.
Tory’s thoughts drifted around in a disjointed circle as she half listened to the singing and half-listened to Bunt, Rick and Dustin while trying very hard not to fall asleep. Little did she know how her evening was going to turn out.
(OOC: To find out go to “Loosing his edge” on the Gathering Grounds Board.)
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 29, 2011 9:09:32 GMT -5
Tory woke abruptly an hour before dawn wondering if something was wrong. She lay still, keeping her breath even and listened to the night sounds around her. She noted the gentle breathing of her nearby companions and the lark call far off on the lake. Nothing seemed amiss so she sat up and quickly got dressed in the very chill morning air.
Poking her head out of her tent she saw the big bonfire had been doused and no one was stirring. The Moon had set and it was very dark and quiet through the Gathering Grounds. There were a few campfires flaring up dotting the landscape, but for the most part everyone was still asleep.
She had taken care to gather firewood after they ate last night and had set it next to Ringulf’s fire pit so she quickly got a new fire going. She fetched two buckets of water and set Ringulf’s and Bunt’s pots to simmering, one containing coffee and the other orange blossom tea she had purchased in Gallica last year. It was imported from the Far East and very expensive but she had been dying to try it out and figured this was as good a time as any. While she was at the stream, she retrieved one bottle of cow milk that she had stowed there upon arriving at the Gathering Grounds. She had purchased three bottles from a farm a half day’s ride from the farm and they had been packed in ice and sawdust on the ride here. Now she kept them cool by stashing them in the water. She noted that others had also placed bottles and jugs along the bank in the water for cooling, most of which was alcohol.
Grabbing her own bag of food supplies, Tory rummaged through it and pulled out several items, she set to mixing up a thick batter of corn meal, flour and barley. She chopped up some black walnuts she’d gathered on the way to the Gathering grounds and tossed them in. She also added some of her pine nuts she’d harvested from last evening’s meal and threw them in whole.
Looking around she spied the feathers from Rick’s quail and said, “I need eggs.” She didn’t want to leave the fire untended though. Suddenly a basket with four rather small tan with dark brown speckled eggs was thrust into her face. Tory looked up to see Rick grinning at her, “I suspected you might need these so I went back and got them last night.”
“Thanks!” Tory grinned and cracked them open, adding them to the batter. “Been a long time since I had quail eggs, they are pretty tasty,” she said as she stirred the batter. She added a bit of milk to make it just a little bit thinner. She carefully un-wrapped a gooey mess of honey in honeycomb from some waxed linen and let a glob of honey ooze into the batter. She didn’t want much, just enough to make it a hint of sweetness. She wrapped the honey back up and hung it from a tree branch. She didn’t want the ants to find the treat, but she wanted the others to have some on their griddle cakes if they so desired. Then she carefully selected a few spices to compliment the nuts and corn meal and stirred those in. The batter was now thick and gooey and stuck to the spoon. The final ingredient was some pre-cooked ham chunks that had been smoked over the winter and had been soaking in warm water all the time since she’d started cooking to soften them up.
By this time people were stirring. Tory figured it was due to the aroma of the first pot of coffee that was finished brewing. She helped herself to a mug before anyone else got to it and then poured some for Rick. He had fetched another bucket of water and had his own pot brewing too.
Within fifteen minutes, just as the sun was starting to peak its first rays over the eastern horizon between the trees, Tory had a dozen griddle cakes cooked and warming on a plate on a rock at the edge of the fire. She liked to fry them in the olive oil she had also purchased in Gallica, but it was running dangerously low. This would be the last batch from that bottle of oil, she thought as she added a bit more to the pan. The griddle cakes liked to soak it up while they cooked.
She dished out a cake to Rick and said, “Best to try one with honey and another one with butter and salt and see which you like better.” She tried one herself, un-wrapping the honey and pouring some of that on the cake. She liked them sweet. She cut into it and was happy with the result. It was light and fluffy inside even though it was thicker than the thickness of Ringulf’s palm and the outside was crispy and golden brown. The honey complimented the cinnamon and even the ham had softened up so it wasn’t chewy.
As she ate her own, she kept cooking until all the batter was gone and there were about forty griddle cakes, each about 6 inches in diameter warming by the fire. “Hey Bunt, it is the crack of dawn, come and get it! Breakfast is served!” She called out to the rest of their group. “Get ‘em while their hot!”
Then she scooped up three more of them onto her own plate, securing another mug of coffee and moved her stump back a bit from the fire so the others could get in to get their share. She put two of them with honey and slathered butter on the last one, hoping she had room for them all in her tummy.
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Post by Tandar on Jul 29, 2011 22:22:04 GMT -5
“Please tell me you made enough griddle cakes for your ole mentor. I’m famished.”
Tandar grinned as he rode Ruldor, his mahogany bay Ranger horse toward the cluster of tents. The Ranger was covered in dust from his travels but was none the worse for wear. He was clean-shaven with his black hair cut short and neat. Behind Ruldor tailed a black pack horse laden with gear and provisions. He dismounted near the fire ring and stretched out his legs, removing his mottled green and gray cloak as he did so. Other than the cloak, he was dressed entirely in black with knee high riding boots and an arming sword sheathed at his waist.
“How are ya, Tory? Has Ringulf been treating you okay? And where is Bunt? That old-timer ought to be awake by now.”
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 30, 2011 16:31:21 GMT -5
At the familiar voice Tory looked up and stopped and stared in mid-chew, hardly able to believe her eyes. Then she leapt to her feet, spilling the last half of her last pan cake into the dirt. She flung herself at Tandar just as he dismounted and screeched, “Tandar! You are back! Are you okay?” She hugged him and then remembered that they’d had a rather stiff relationship and jumped back before he could push her away, her face turning red.
A bit slower she apologized, “Sorry, Tandar, I was just so glad to see you! I’ve been almost as worried as Brandwyn I think, although she wrote me a couple of times and said you were still writing her and nothing had happened to you.” She then spun around and invited him to sit on her stool and thrust a plate full of hot griddle cakes into his hands. She was both dying and dreading to ask if he was going back to active duty or not, so she decided to let him catch his breath and eat his food.
Bunt came out of his tent and stretched looking at the sun that was still very low on the horizon and then helped himself to three of the griddle cakes and slathered them with honey. He sat down on his camp chair and regarded Tandar for a moment.
“This is good grub, Tory,” he said after methodically eating one griddle cake. Tory grinned up at him from where she was sitting cross-legged on the ground between Ringulf and Tandar. “I don’t know, Ringulf, I’d say she’d do a’right if’n she didn’ take that cookin’ course, but I spose it won’ hurt her none neither.” He winked at Ringulf.
Bunt finished his food and cleaned his plate off in the bucket of water Tory had fetched for the purpose and sat it on a rock to dry. He downed his coffee and then looked up to see Crowley approaching Ringulf. After the matter of the teams was settled, Bunt stood up and gathered his weapons and wrapped his cloak around him. “Come on girls, we’ve got some work to do. Don’t forget your knives.”
While they gathered their gear he stepped over to Tandar and reached out his hand. “I am sure glad you are back in one piece, lad. I was worried about ya. I hope you were able ta sort things out and if’n ya feel like talking, I been tole I am a good listener.”
Then he collected Tory, Ivy and Dian and headed off toward the main tent in the same direction Crowley had gone. Tory kept looking back over her shoulder at Tandar, wondering if he really was there or if he was going to just disappear. She’d noticed one thing about him, though. His eyes didn’t have that haunted, distant look like they’d had back at the Harvest Faire. She hoped he’d found some peace.
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Rick grinned at Tandar when he rode into camp and led his horse over to the other horses when Tory handed Tandar his plate of food and gave Ruldor a bucket of water. "Glad your back, Tandar, and in one piece."
He then made sure Tam was awake and snagged his apprentice a plate of food before the griddle cakes were gone. He'd already eaten his fair share and was waiting to see if there was going to be any left after everyone had first helpings. Bunt was right, the girl could cook if this was any judge. He still thought the class would be good for her though since it was a good deal more than how not to burn water over and open fire.
He started to gather some more wood so he could bank the fire in a nice bed of coals to let the goose roast all day long. Someone was going to need to stay within eyesite of the camp to make sure the fire didn't get out of control. Rick was hoping he could take turns with some of the others. Then shortly after Bunt left, Crowley's horn sounded and he looked at Tam, "grab your gear, Tam. It's time for the announcements."
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dian
Apprentice Scribe
this status thing reminds me of Facebook
Posts: 100
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Post by dian on Jul 30, 2011 17:02:26 GMT -5
Dian woke up at about dawn, to the smell of food. It smelled great, but first she had to feed obsidian. She rummaged through her pack for a few minutes and pulled out the food she had brought for the dog. After the puppy was content and full, Dian crawled out of her tent, the puppy was literally at her heels. Dian poked her head out and saw Tory finishing up her cooking. She moved towards the food and grabbed herself a plate, and put a bit of honey on the side. Dian dug in to the... grittle cakes, if she wasn't mistaken.
Dian was about to complement Tory on her cooking, but a ranger popped up. Dian could tell he mattered, because Tory seemed happy about his arrival. Not wanting to bother anyone, she just continued eating until full. When breakfast was over, Bunt wanted Dian, Tory, and Ivy to go practice with their knives. It seemed a little suspicious at first, but Dian quickly realized what they were going to do. She picked up her knives, leaving her bow since she wasn't a great shot yet, and followed Bunt, Obsidian following close behind for some reason. They hadn't even taken 10 steps when a horn blasted, signaling for the announcements. So instead, they went there.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 2, 2011 14:24:07 GMT -5
Crowley left Ringulf and headed straight back to his tent on the little rise in the center of the Gathering Grounds. There he picked up his old carved ram's horn and stood for a moment surveying the rangers who were in various stages of their morning libations and breakfast. Most of them seemed to be up and most of the way finished with breakfast. Gathering his thoughts and pulling out his little handmade notebook, he decided it was time to make what announcements he could. He gave a long blast on the horn, waited a minute and then blasted out another long wailing note. Then he stood waiting while the ranger’s began to gather around his tent.
After about ten minutes it looked like most of the rangers were gathered around and there was a general hum of conversation as they waited for things to begin. Crowley took one last look at his notes giving himself one final chance to change his mind on the assignments and then made another long blast on his horn, calling the meeting to order.
“Welcome my friends to the Gathering of the year 657! It seems we have nearly everyone here this year which is a far cry over last year during the middle of the war.” His face grew somber, “At the bonfire tonight we will be drinking a toast to those of us who died in service during this past year as is traditional. May they all have found peace and happiness in the hereafter.”
He let them reflect for a moment on friends lost both in the war, after the war and in the line of duty and for the two retired rangers that had succumbed to old age or illness this past year. Then he cleared his throat and brought them back to the present. “I will start by giving out the assignments for this next year as that is what you all are always dying to hear first. Following that will be the competitions and classes for the next three days. After that you all can report on any problems in your fief that you feel the other rangers should know about. Now on to the assignments.”
Crowley held up his notebook to the early morning sun and consulted it for a moment. “Halt, you and Will Treaty have a special assignment. We’ll talk about that privately.”
“Nicolette Amara Dace will be taking over Seacliff, knowing her preference for the warmer climates.” Crowley winked at her. “Perhaps you will have some luck in keeping those islanders in fighting shape. There are other pirates out there besides the Skandians, but they don’t seem to remember that. Make sure they have a decently trained and outfitted defensive force.” Crowley advised. “Pirate activity out of Toscano has increased recently and there are even some Aslavian pirates attacking along the southeast coastline.”
“Next, Allison, who we fondly call ‘Smiley’ of Whitby Fief, is going on her first assignment as a Silver Leaf to the fief of Redmont while Halt is on special assignment. Allison, Redmont is a very large fief but should be in fairly good order, right Halt?” Crowley raised an eyebrow at his friend questioningly. Halt just grunted neither acknowledging Crowley’s comment, nor denying it. “Anyway, should you need some assistance, don’t hesitate to contact myself or for more immediate help, get in touch with Gilan who is only one fief over in Whitby.” Crowley advised the new ranger. “Congratulations on your first assignment!” Several of the rangers clapped and cheered, remembering their first assignment and how nervous they had been at the time.
“During this past year, since the last gathering there were a couple of changes many of you might not know about.” Crowley continued. “Ringulf, with his apprentice Mylia, was assigned to Marshwood fief and is working on the river pirate issue. The previous ranger’s apprentice is still missing and presumed dead, although we have not given up all hope. Perhaps you can give us an update as to Marshwood’s current situation after I finish with the announcements, Ringulf?”
“Another change was Bunt being assigned to Caraway after the loss of old Harold at the hands of the mercenary group calling themselves The Grizzlies.” Crowley bowed his head for a moment. Harold had been a good friend to him over the years, although he had let things get a bit slack in the Fief as far as the Baron was concerned. Perhaps Crowley should consider putting a younger person in there to shake things up, but he wanted to give Bunt a chance to straighten out the Baron and get the fief back in order.
“Robin Dale and his apprentice were assigned to Greenfield Fief and Monkuta Jakys and his apprentice Marina are still in Drayden since right after the war. That should about sum up the changes although there will be some more changes at the end of the Gathering depending on this current class of apprentices that are hoping to graduate.” Crowley looked at Dustin, Pepper and their group of friends that were all expecting to pass their last evaluations and be elevated to Silver Leaf Rangers. They grinned at each other, a couple of them looking doubtful.
Crowley looked around the grounds for Tandar, knowing he was around someplace. He hadn't had a chance to talk to him yet though so he decided to wait until the end of the Gathering to make any permanent decision concerning Meric, Tandar and Tory.
“Now on to today’s classes,” Crowley silenced the murmuring that had started with a wave of his hand. “There will be a throwing weapons class open for anyone, apprentice or ranger, who wants to learn some alternative weapons to throw. It will be on the throwing range and is being taught by Ringulf. When is it you are holding that class, Ringulf?”
After his answer, Crowley then noticed Tory standing next to him and decided to go through with his thoughts concerning her. “There will also be a class the day after tomorrow, right after lunch on mounted archery down at the archery range.” He saw Tory perk her ears up at that, looking at him eagerly and suppressed a grin. “This class will be taught by apprentice Waterton and is mandatory for all first and second year apprentices. Others are of course welcome to join if they want to.”
“ME?” Tory squeaked loud enough for everyone to hear and then her face turned bright red as she first looked at Crowley in shock and then to Ringulf with her mouth hanging open. “Me? Why me?” She blurted and then noticed all eyes in the crowd had turned on her and she blushed even redder and hid her face in Ringulf’s cloak, trying to disappear under his arm. Several rangers chuckled and called out encouragement.
Crowley held his hands up again and said, “Because, Miss Waterton, I have it on good authority that you are one of the best riders in this group and your secret practices have not gone unnoticed.” Crowley pointed at her. “I am sure you will do just fine and I can’t wait to see you demonstrate this new skill.” Crowley turned back to the rest of the rangers as he caught Tory pulling back from Ringulf and glaring at him as if betrayed. “For those of you who don’t know, this young lady likes to canter her horse and shoot from it at the same time. I hear she has gotten fairly good at this technique and I would like some of you to learn it. So if you feel comfortable enough on your horse to try, please join her class.”
Crowley went on to announce several other classes, mostly for apprentices and then several competitions that were going to be taking place. “See the announcement board here for a complete list and schedule,” he finished up, knowing he likely forgot something. The morning was moving on apace, however, and he wanted to wrap this meeting up.
“Now for reports,” He said, forestalling those who were about to wander off. “We will be getting into more details on these situations over the next couple of days, but there are a few issues that are affecting many fiefs if not the entire Kingdom. One of these is the seemingly random movements and attacks in the north by what we believe to be a band of Scotti rebels bent on destroying the treaty between Picta and Araluen. The army and its agents are taking the lead in this matter, but you are ordered to offer whatever help and support you can to those agents should they ask for it. Please report any information you have that might relate to this issue immediately upon discovering it.”
People grew somber, many of them having had contact with these rebels and knew of the terror they were causing across the countryside. “As most of you know there were Wargals at the Norgate Winter Revel. The investigation in their movements is ongoing. Please report any and all sightings, even if you only suspect it could be Wargals.” He ordered.
“As I mentioned earlier, pirate activity along the southeastern coast has increased since the war. For those of you in those coastal fiefs, keep watch on the water and warn the villagers to be prepared in case of an attack. That goes for those of you with ports that have ships travelling in those waters. Keep your eyes open for suspicious looking sailors and cargo.”
“There seem to still be many Grizzly operatives in Araluen. Should you see anyone sporting one of these pendants, detain them and send them to Araluen Castle for questioning, after you get what information you can from them.”
“I also mentioned the river pirates plaguing Marshwood in particular but also are a problem in Norgate, Caraway and Araluen fiefs as well. Ringulf, do you have any new information concerning these pirates or the missing girl?” Crowley asked him.
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dian
Apprentice Scribe
this status thing reminds me of Facebook
Posts: 100
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Post by dian on Aug 2, 2011 14:43:33 GMT -5
Nikki crawled out o her tent and saw spirit napping next to it. She roused the dog and fed it some broth as she herself cooked up some eggs, of unknown origin, but still edible all the same. She sopped up the last bit of yolk with a bit of course bread and cleaned up her camp fire. When the horn blasted a few times, Nikki was right there ready to listen for the announcements. Nikki had been stuck in a northern fief, and wanted to get the hell out of there. Growing up in southern Gallica made her prefer warmer weather to the cold she got in Nothern Araluen.
“Nicolette Amara Dace will be taking over Seacliff, knowing her preference for the warmer climates.” Crowley winked at her. “Perhaps you will have some luck in keeping those islanders in fighting shape. There are other pirates out there besides the Skandians, but they don’t seem to remember that. Make sure they have a decently trained and outfitted defensive force.” Crowley advised. “Pirate activity out of Toscano has increased recently and there are even some Aslavian pirates attacking along the southeast coastline.”
Nikki nearly scowled at her full, many a time she cursed herself for even speaking it in this country, but she couldn't leave one o the few things her parents had given her. Even if it was only her name. She nodded as the Commandant went on about pirates, other then the Skandian, Nikki would deal with them for sure. As the announcements went on, she tried to gather a way to get those whelps into fighting shape.
“As I mentioned earlier, pirate activity along the southeastern coast has increased since the war. For those of you in those coastal fiefs, keep watch on the water and warn the villagers to be prepared in case of an attack. That goes for those of you with ports that have ships travelling in those waters. Keep your eyes open for suspicious looking sailors and cargo.” “There seem to still be many Grizzly operatives in Araluen. Should you see anyone sporting one of these pendants, detain them and send them to Araluen Castle for questioning, after you get what information you can from them.” “I also mentioned the river pirates plaguing Marshwood in particular but also are a problem in Norgate, Caraway and Araluen fiefs as well." Nikki nodded taking all of this in, If she was going to be in a costal fief, she'd have to keep her wits about her, unlike her last fief were she barely did anything.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 5, 2011 21:43:30 GMT -5
“There will also be a class the day after tomorrow, right after lunch on mounted archery down at the archery range.” Crowley saw Tory perk her ears up at that, looking at him eagerly and suppressed a grin. “This class will be taught by apprentice Waterton and is mandatory for all first and second year apprentices. Others are of course welcome to join if they want to.”
Tory’s heart stopped. “ME?” She shrieked, much louder than she intended, but it just kind of slipped out before she could stop it. “Me? Why me?” She blurted and then noticed all eyes in the crowd had turned on her and she blushed even redder and hid her face in Ringulf’s cloak, trying to disappear under his arm. She heard several rangers laughing at her. Growing angry she pulled back and glared first at Crowley then at Ringulf when she realized he must have told Crowley that she had been practicing mounted archery. She only half listened to Crowley’s answer to her question feeling betrayed and at the same time rather proud of herself. She didn’t want Ringulf to know that, however. When attention shifted away from her she put her hands on her hips and glared at Ringulf. “You! I aught to...” she sputtered and then abruptly turned her back and went to stand next to Bunt again, wondering if Ringulf and Crowley had planned for this whole little scene, meant only to embarrass her. She could see Crowley doing that, but didn’t think Ringulf would be party to it.
Then, as the announcements were drawing to a close and after Ringulf gave her report she began to panic. She was only half listening to the rangers who were giving reports because she was thinking that she didn’t have any idea what to do as instructor of this class. She only had a day to prepare for it. Panic began to set in and she found it hard to breathe. She stumbled backward and leaned up against a tree, her breathing rapid and shallow and she realized she was sweating profusely.
Rick handed her a rag, “breathe through it slowly.” He patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Tory. You can teach that class.” Rick scowled at Crowley. “I told him to talk to you about it first, but he always likes to make these grand speeches. Sometimes he can be a little thick.”
Tory’s breathing slowed, but then she began to tremble. “What’s wrong with me?” she whispered. Rick took the rag and wiped her face gently and then grabbed her hands.
“Nothing, just a little bit of panic over the thought of teaching a class, am I right?” Tory thought about for a moment and then nodded. “Give it a moment and it will pass. Just think about how you are going to teach it and the shakes will stop. You taught yourself, so think back on how you did it and apply that to your class.”
“I just practiced until I got good at it.” Tory muttered. “I don’t know how to teach anything!” The meeting was breaking up now and people were walking off and going about their business. A couple of rangers approached to congratulate Tory, but Rick waved them away with a look and a shake of his head.
“Well, first you need to figure out what you want to teach to them. What are your goals for the class?” Rick suggested, noticing she was breathing better now and the color in her face was returning to normal. “Then you determine what the best way to teach them is. So what would you want them to learn?”
Tory considered his question and shrugged. “I don’t know, this was Crowley’s idea. I don’t want to teach anyone anything.” Tory rubbed her face in her hands and then fluffed her hair with her fingers. “Why is he doing this to me? He is so mean!”
Rick suppressed a chuckle and managed to keep a straight face. “All apprentices end up teaching something at some point in their training. It builds character.” Rick pointed out. “I had to teach a class on fletching arrows my second year.”
“Really?” Tory asked suspiciously. “But you are so good at fletching arrows. I bet that was easy. This is different.” Tory pouted.
“No it isn’t and no, it wasn’t easy either. I was just as scared as you. I didn’t know how to teach people any more than you do, but once you get started you will find it isn’t as scary as you think it is.” Rick informed her. “You have the whole day to figure out the best way to teach those apprentices how to shoot a bow from the back of a moving horse.” Rick instructed. “Now you better catch up to Bunt.”
Tory sighed and handed the rag back. “Thanks Rick. Maybe I will get lucky and Dian will mortally wound me today so I don’t have to teach tomorrow.” She said dismally and then ran off to catch up to Bunt, Dian and Ivy.
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Post by Firehead on Aug 6, 2011 7:52:35 GMT -5
Pippen arrived just after the Gathering officially started, and decided to wait on setting up her tent in favor of listening to Crowley's speech. Upon hearing that Apprentice Tory was going to be teaching the mounted archery class, she grinned, and laughed at Tory's indignation. "Better you than me, Tory. Crowley here knows that if I were teaching the class no one would sign up, mandatory or not, now isn't that right, everybody?" she grinned mischieveously at the Rangers gathered around. It earned her a few chuckles and a heartfelt "You got that right!" from one.
"Why Red, everyone knows your a daredevil at heart--"
"I like to play tricks on people, not risk life and limb jumping my horse off a 20-foot cliff just for kicks like you do!" Red retorted. "I'm not that insane!" That earned another round of laughter, and Pip turned back to Tory. "So see? Better you than me." Then she spotted another horse and rider approaching and quickly added, "Oh wait, Crowley! Let's have Qwade teach the class!" her voice lilted with laughter, hidden just beneith the words.
"Qwade? Qwade? You want Qwade to do the class?" Red asked incredulously. "No way! Uh unh! Not happening!" he shook his head vigerously.
"Aw c'mon, Qwade isn't that bad! He's just a little grumpy is all---"
"A little grumpy?"
"OK, a lot of grump--"
"A lot of grumpy? Listen Pip, grumpy isn't the word I'd use to describe Qwade. If he taught that class, he'd take off everyone's head who didn't pass the grade! Grumpy is what can be used to describe Ben or Badger, maybe a few of the others, but Qwade? That word doesn't even come close to describing his attittude!"
"And how would you describe his attittude, Red?" Pip asked, teasingly.
Red thought for a moment, than said, "Keep away."
There was silence for a moment, than Pip replied. "OK, you might have a point there." ------
Qwade entered the Gathering Grounds and rode to the outskirts or the group gathered around Crowley for the announcements. Some of the Rangers flashed him polite smiles that nearly made him roll his eyes, but he managed not to. A few of those closest to him edged away, giving him room, due to the fact that his horse, Devil, had an attitude similar to that of a slightly civilized assassin on four legs. While civil--most of the time--Devil was prone to violence every now and again, and had no qualms or scruples as to who he went after or how he did it.
Crowley talked on at length, and eventually wound down and allowed some of the other Rangers to speak. They told of what was going on in their fife, going on about this, that and another thing. Qwade managed to keep his silence for the most part.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 6, 2011 22:00:35 GMT -5
Heather had been following Qwade for the last hour or so and rode up to the Gathering Grounds on his heels. She was a mess and her piebald mare, Shasta, was tired and grumpy. She had expected Qwade to continue on, but he stopped and before she could pull Shasta up, her horse was standing beside Devil. Shasta laid back her ears at Devil, giving him a warning to leave her be. Horse and rider were covered in dust and looked exhausted. Heather was sporting a really nice shiner around her right eye and she had her left arm in a sling. She looked around at the faces around her, searching for someone in particular, but she didn’t see him.
“Qwade, do you see Rick anywhere?” She backed Shasta up so she could see on the other side of Qwade and noticed him speaking with an apprentice girl. She rolled her eyes. ‘Always the Casanova,’ Heather muttered and then to Qwade, “never mind, I see him.”
She threaded Shasta through the crowd, nodding hello and ignoring the questions of what happened to her. “First things first,” she muttered, making a beeline for Greenriver. As she rode up, the apprentice ran off looking scared out of her mind. Heather stopped Shasta a few feet away and waited until Rick turned to her. She saw Rick’s face light up and she rolled her eyes again, her head nodding toward Tory who was following Bunt.
“A little young, don’t you think, Rick?” Heather quipped.
“Lightfoot! How are? You look like hell, girl!” Rick stepped forward and patted Shasta on the forehead. The mare leaned into him and rubbed her head up and down on Rick’s hand. Heather looked pointedly at Tory and raised an eyebrow. “Aw she just needed to some reassurance. Crowley blindsided her with teaching that class, or didn’t you hear?” Rick asked her.
Heather shook her head and then wished she hadn’t. The throbbing had been down to a dull ache and now it flared up again. “I just got here.” She let the reins go with her right hand and threw her right foot over Shasta’s neck, kicking her left foot out of the stirrup and using her right hand to slow her forward facing dismount. The landing still jarred her shoulder and she couldn’t help but gasp as she clung to the saddle for a moment.
Rick steadied her with a hand under her elbow, noticing that her face had drained of color. “I hope the other guy looks worse.” He joked and guided her back to his camp with Shasta following them. “Other than your shoulder and that spectacular black eye, are you sporting any other damage?”
Heather would have punched him at his lame joke if she’d been feeling up to it. “For your information there were seven of them.” He didn’t need to know that three of them had gotten away. “I was kicked a few times in the guts and back. Can’t say they feel too great after that beating and the two days of hard riding to get here.”
Rick shook his head and led her into his tent, steering her on through when she hesitated at the door. “Don’t worry, I want you to be fully functional the first time you share my bed,” he winked at her and chuckled at the look on her face.
“Keep dreaming, that’s as close as yer gonna get.” Heather ducked her head and entered the tent, looking around for a stool. It seemed the only place to sit was on he rather oversized camp bed. The tent was tidy and smelled of cinnamon and spices. The bed was wide for one person, but two sleeping in it would have to be pretty cozy. “Nice,” she said dryly and sat on the corner of the bed. It was solid and she wondered exactly how he managed transporting such a contraption across country. She didn’t want to seem interested in his bed, however so she gingerly began to pull her arm out of the sling.
“Hang on there,” Rick knelt next to her on the floor and very gently pulled the sling off. “Care to tell me what happened?” he asked as he prodded her shoulder sending several shooting pains in all directions.
Heather sucked in her breath and studied his face as she tried to compartmentalize the pain and lock it away. “Oh you know, the usual,” Heather answered. “I was jumped by a band of pirates who came ashore to steal horses and whatever else they happened to run across.” Rick sat back on his heels and eyed her. “There were seven of them.” Heather said indignantly. “Ah, who am I kidding?” she looked at her dust covered boots. “I walked right into that trap like a rookie. Everything was screaming don’t and I did it anyway.” She looked back at him with a sheepish grin. “Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Rick shook his head, “I thought you might be growing a bit more cautious in your old age, but I guess not.” He sat down on the bed behind her. “Your shoulder is dislocated and this is going to hurt like hell.” He placed one arm around her and grabbed her upper arm with his other hand. “You ready?”
Heather took a deep breath and clamped her teeth together and then nodded. He yanked on her arm and she screamed and then passed out, slumping against him.
Rick prodded her shoulder and then laid her back on his bed. He felt her cheekbone around the bruised eye and decided it would be fine and then he began to check her chest and abdomen for injuries while she was unconcious. There was a hard knot of flesh on her left side below her ribs and when he touched it Heather groaned and opened her eyes. “Ow!” she whispered and started to sit up.
“Stay put.” Rick pressed down gently on the center of her chest. “I need to see this spot on your abdomen.” He looked at her pointedly and it took Heather a moment to realize he needed to remove her clothing.
“Can’t you just pull up my tunic and look at my stomach?” She eyed him suspiciously. For years he had been flirting with her and for years she had continuously turned him down. She did find him attractive, but she was not about to become another notch on his bedpost. Was this just a ploy on his part to get a glimpse of the forbidden fruit?
Rick shook his head and grew serious. “You have a lump on your breast too and there might be more. I need to see the bruise patterns to tell how bad it is. Frankly I am surprised you rode in here upright and conscious.” Rick started to unbuckle her surcoat.
“Fine,” Heather agreed reluctantly. “Just don’t get any ideas.” She touched her saxe knife with a fingertip and smiled sweetly at him. Her shoulder was now aching instead of throbbing so long as she didn’t move, but after he opened her surcoat and pulled her linen shirt up and started gently probing her stomach she thought she was going to pass out.
“Your ribs don’t seem to be broken and I think these are just surface contusions but this one spot concerns me.” He pushed on the first spot he had prodded earlier on her left lower abdomen.
Heather groaned, “Would you please stop doing that?” she pulled her shirt back down and tried to buckle her surcoat back up with one hand without much success. “It will be fine if you stop poking at it,” She said testily.
Rick pulled her surcoat back into place and buckled it up. “Let me do that,” When he finished he helped her sit up and then told her to move her arm and shoulder. She winced but was able to move it easier now that it was back in its socket. “Better keep that sling on for a couple of days, but exercise it a bit every few hours.” He sat down on his bed next to her and looked at her solemnly. “If your stomach gets hard and the pain gets worse, come see me, promise?”
Heather nodded, “Okay, but it is just a bruise. I’ll be fine. You got anything for a headache?”
A gleam came into Rick’s eye, “I have something that will take your mind off it!” He teased her and leaned in closer.
“Back off, man,” Heather tapped her knife again. “Whatever happened to ‘want you in good condition’ or did the sight of my torso overcome your will power?”
“It did not, but you do have a beautiful – torso even when covered in bruises.” Rick looked away and Heather thought she saw genuine emotion for a moment in his eyes. He almost looked hurt. He looked back at her and grasped her hand. “I know you find me attractive, why do you always push me away?”
Heather thought he genuinely wanted to know and she thought about her answer for a moment, “If I thought that there was ever going to be any kind of lasting relationship beyond a night or two, the answer might be different,” she said and pulled her hand out of his. “I know better, though. A leopard can’t change his spots and you will always be Rick.” She patted him on the cheek and then stood up. “Now about that headache medicine?” she asked, swaying slightly on her feet.
Rick sighed and then stood up next to her, ducking over in the short tent. “You don’t know what you’re missing, sweetheart!” He quipped, but Heather thought she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. Rick rummaged through a pack on the floor and produced a linen bound bundle of herbs. “Don’t take too much of this. If you are bleeding internally, this will make it much worse.” She was stepping out of his tent when he stopped her, “Hey Heather, would you like some help pitching your tent?”
Heather could have sworn he was going to ask her something else, but she couldn’t figure out what. She nodded and stepped out of his tent and Rick followed. She didn’t see the look of regret and sadness that crossed his face when her back was turned. When she looked back at him, he was his usual jolly self.
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erevan
Apprentice Cook
Posts: 57
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Post by erevan on Aug 7, 2011 7:31:30 GMT -5
Al rode into the grounds just after Qwade. After their meeting at the crossing, he had been accepted as the man's apprentice. The horse he rode was no Ranger horse, just the one that had been kept by Al and his mother for the past few years, but it had gotten the job done in getting to the Gathering. He noticed early on that there seemed to be some tension between his mentor and the other Rangers, and would have asked Qwade about it, but he had already learned that such information would be revealed if and when the time was right, as seemed to be the gist of the answer to questions regarding his history with the Corps.
Al now wore the signature cloak and double scabbard of a Ranger, and a longbow rested at his side. he had found that he could make it through two quivers with the longbow before needing to rest, and since he was already a decent shot from his practice for hunting,it was mostly a matter of adapting to the greater draw weight and flatter trajectory of the longbow. His own Skandian-made saxe knife, while not the same quality as a Ranger's, was still a valuable tool and weapon, and he kept it in its sheath across his lower back.
Despite the many questions racing through Al's mine, he knew they would have to wait until Crowley was done speaking. He realized that many would be answerred over the next days anyway, and looked forward to beginning his life as a Ranger's apprentice with great anticipation.
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