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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 11, 2011 20:08:26 GMT -5
(OCC: This takes place late summer in the Year 657 just about the same time as The Gathering)
Sir Timothy Baskerville, under the guise of Timothy of Norgate, was shedding his armor as he watched the two foot waves roll up onto the warm sandy beach in the south of Greenfield Fief. He squinted at the bright sun and judged it to be about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. The heat was radiating off the sand and Timothy didn’t think he had ever seen a more glorious day.
“Well, Roath, you said you wanted sunshine and warmth! You can’t beat this, now can you?” Tim grinned at his young traveling companion as he pulled off his boots and then pulled off his outer tunic. “I have never swum in the ocean this far south and I aim to see what its like. Care to join me?”
The two of them had followed the signs of the Wargals that had attacked Norgate during the Winter Revel last mid-winter and that had led them in a very twisted route through the most remote areas of Araluen all the way down the western side of the Kingdom that was not as thickly populated to their present location. Actually it was not exactly this location. Timothy had decided they needed to make a slight detour to see the coastline since they were so close. He wasn’t sure if Roath had ever seen an ocean before, let alone swam in one.
They were currently right at the border with Celtica and the Wargal’s path led into the southern region of Celtica. Tim was expecting the trail to turn east at some point and head toward the Mountains of Rain and Night or Morgaroth’s Plateau. Tim and Roath had been on their trail through the whole spring and summer traveling the entire length of Araluen from north to south and had assisted a great number of people along the way. At the Winter Revel Roath had been begging to go south where it was warmer, so Timothy finally agreed and now they were about as far south as they could be and still be in Araluen.
The trek had been a difficult one, however, with the loss of the trail for days on end only to stumble across more sign of the Wargal’s crossing through the Araluen wilderness. Timothy had begun to give the Wargals some grudging respect at being able to conceal their movements. He didn’t think they were intelligent enough for that and hiding a large band of great hairy war mongering creatures would not have been easy for the best of trackers.
They had left signs to follow however, mostly in the decimated farms and even a few small villages that they had run across. It appeared as if they had left no survivors when they had encountered Araluen citizens. Each time they had ridden into one of those haunting hamlets, Timothy had grown grim and quiet, battling his remorse over his own past and rage at the Wargals and the destruction they had wrought on the innocent peasants.
By the time they had crossed through the Western Woods and straight down to the border with Celtica, Timothy was ready for a little bit of a break and so here they were at the beach in late summer on a perfect day for swimming.
As he stripped off the last of his clothes except his under breeches and carried his sword out into the water with him and planted it in the sand where he could get to it if he needed to in a hurry, he said to Roath, “Be careful if you come on out here. The current from the waves is pretty strong. It will try to suck you out to sea if you aren’t expecting it.” Timothy was moving farther out and the water was now up to his chest. The sand under his feet was smooth and clean and the water was a clear, crisp blue. He dove under the surface as a wave approached and came up on the other side and then his toes touched something sharp. He dove under again and noticed he was on the edge of a reef and the water dropped off steeply just beyond. This underwater feature is what was giving the waves their height on this extremely calm day. He surfaced with a handful of silt from the bottom and sifted through it, letting the sand float away in the water.
He dove under again and again, searching the reef for anything interesting. Finally he came up with a piece of coral and a sand dollar that was almost as big as the palm of his hand. He swam back up toward shore and noticed he had been carried down the beach just a little way. He walked back to his belongings and gently set the items on his pile of clothing. “Now that was fortuitous,” Timothy said to Roath, “Sand dollars are supposed to bring good luck!”
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 30, 2011 22:11:24 GMT -5
Sir Timothy needed to resupply before pushing into Celtica on the trail of the Wargals but he was loath to enter Greenfield fief’s castle. In the end he was left no choice, however. Much to his surprise he was stopped at the gate when he delivered his name. He was ordered to the office of the Castle Chamberlain and handed a roll of parchment in a waterproof leather scroll tube. The tube bore the insignia of the Baron of Norgate. Timothy swallowed nervously as he broke the seal and began to read the first missive inside…
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Unto Sir Timothy of Norgate; A name to which, I have been recently informed by one Sir Katrina de Montgomery, that it is an alias for Sir Timothy de Baskerville du Lac: condemned murderer and renegade Knight Errant of Norgate.
I, Baron William Brunsfield of Norgate Fief, Lord of the Northern Reaches and defender of the Pictish border, do send you greetings Sir Timothy and bid you hear me out for these are dire times and I find myself in need of your assistance, though it grieves my heart to ask it of a man such as yourself. I would not do so, except upon the urgings of Sir Katrina and I trust her loyalty and judgment far more than many of my closest advisors.
As you may have heard, or perhaps not since you left long before the illness broke out, Norgate has lost over half of her knights and those that have survived the plague are either too weak to fight or too exhausted from doing triple shifts to keep order and defend the border. The Wargals you are tracking that attacked us last Yuletide seem to have been carrying a disease and it lay dormant until the heat of the summer awoke it with a vengeance. Nearly everyone that remained here at the castle after the Wargal attack, or who was wounded during the attack has succumbed to the plague.
Our army is depleted and weak and Norgate would not be able to withstand an invasion from Picta should she have to defend herself. Our people are fleeing the White Death leaving fields unharvested and winter is likely to see worse famine than we have had since the war in Gallica from which we have still not recovered. The wool that was harvested in the spring and early summer stands in the warehouses awaiting shipment to market, but there are no people to take it.
What has this to do with you?
Two things, first I need to know what you have found out about the Wargals that attacked here. You seem to be the only person we know of who has been following their trail to see where they came from or where they may be going. We need to know why they attacked and if it was a random act or if there is someone directing them. What have you found out?
The other is that I am recalling all retired knights and soldiers and any and all able bodied fighting men. I am even, at Katrina’s suggestion, offering up paid positions in the army for women and boys and girls even at the tender age of 13 who would like to join and defend their Fief. I am also pardoning nearly all criminals on the condition that they serve active duty in the army or Araluen Guard.
Thus I come to you, a man convicted of a heinous crime at a very young age that from all evidence appears to have been committed in the heat of passion. Katrina states that she has spoken with you on the subject and believes that you experienced a berserker type reaction when you saw your beloved in the arms of another man. She has also told me that you are a man of conscious who has wrestled with this demon and tried to atone for your sins by helping those too weak or poor to help themselves. I have verified many of the stories she has spoken of. I have also spoken with your parents. Your father refused to utter your name or give me any information, stating only that you are dead to him. Your mother, however, told me of how you had some hand in bringing her husband’s thieving farmhands to justice and returned the money they had stolen, with interest.
In light of these acts and the grounds that you have been banished from Norgate (even though you remained in hiding within her borders much of the time) for the past 40 some years, and taking into consideration the testimonies of Sir Katrina and Sister Mary Meghan and a few others I have decide to grant you a full pardon and reinstate you to the Norgate Knighthood.
This comes with a few conditions, however: First, you must continue to track these Wargals and discover where they came from, why they came and who or what is behind their movements. Most importantly we need to know if they bore this illness naturally or if it was contracted from another species and what impact it has on the destruction of Norgate and Araluen, if any. There is speculation that the Wargals attacked because they were ill and wanted to spread the disease to us. There is more speculation that they were not acting on their own. I need to know. I want to receive regular reports on your progress, especially if this should lead to your leaving the Kingdom.
Secondly, you must swear loyalty to me and pay restitution of 1000 gold pieces to the family of your former fiancé whom you slew. This payment must be from monies you earn from this day forward and may not be paid from your father’s estate, although you do not have to pay it all at once. This debt will revert to your heirs should you sire any. I want your sworn statement in writing with your reply to this letter and I expect to hear it in person upon your arrival back in Norgate or at such time as we meet in person, wherever that may be.
Third, you must spend the next 20 years in service to the fief of Norgate as penance for your crimes. This service must be in active duty military for as long as you are physically able to do so. At the end of this 20 years you will not be entitled to any retirement benefits from your military service, although your heirs and spouse will be compensated should you die in service or are unable to earn a living upon your retirement.
Fourth, you must spend part of that time training new squires to rebuild Norgate’s Chivalry and make them into Knights the Fief can be proud of.
If you agree to these terms, I have empowered the Chatelaine of Greenfield Fief to ratify the documents you now hold in your hand and you will be pardoned for your crimes. No longer will you have to live in the wild and hide your face from bounty hunters, fortune seekers, your fellow knights or your family. You will be fully re-instated into the Order of Chivalry of Norgate with all of the privileges of the rank of Junior Knight with the exceptions noted above.
So, what say you, Sir Timothy? Your fief needs you and I hope that you have truly repented and are sorry for your crimes and that you will embrace this opportunity to clear your name and bring honor to your father and family. Please tender your response upon receipt of these documents.
Sincerely and in service to the Crown of Araluen, I remain; Sir William Brunsfield, Baron of Norgate.
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Timothy slowly closed his mouth and glanced at the Chatelaine who was looking at him warily as if he were afraid Tim was going to run him through with his longsword. Timothy peeled back the top parchment to reveal a document granting his pardon and the conditions mentioned in the letter in legal terms. He took several minutes to read it in its entirety, sitting down in the Chatelaine’s soft armchair as he did so. Everything appeared to be just as the letter had stated, it only awaited his signature and the Chatelaine’s official stamp. The Baron had already signed it and sealed it but included a ratification statement that required the Greenfield Fief’s stamp to make it official. Never had Timothy seen such a document and he marveled at it for several minutes.
The next sheet was a duplicate copy for him to carry on his person. This would be important should he run into anyone that wished to collect a bounty on him. Under that copy was an enlistment into active duty service in the Order of Chivalry of Norgate and stated a term of no less than 20 years except in the instance of death or extreme disability, of which there were some examples and determination would be made by a medical expert as to his fitness to continue in service in a limited capacity. This document was signed by all the knights of Norgate. Timothy scanned the list and realized how pitifully few there were left. The Chatelaine looked at him expectantly, “Well, would you like me to stamp those documents for you after you sign them?”
“What?” Timothy looked up, having forgotten the man was there. “Not quite yet. I need to think about this for a bit.” Timothy stood and rolled up the papers and shoved them back into the tube. “I will return in a few hours with a decision.”
The Chatelaine looked at him in disbelief, “What’s to decide? You won’t be an outlaw anymore, isn’t that what you want?”
“There is the matter of indentured servitude in the Norgate army to consider.” Tim answered. “I am afraid I have grown rather fond of my freedom, such that it is.”
With that he did a military turn and salute and strode out of the man’s office and Greenfield Keep to go purchase supplies for his foray into Celtica. Either way he would still be making that trip. He was going to have to discuss this with his young companion, however, before he could commit one way or the other.
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 30, 2011 22:30:29 GMT -5
(OOC: Ringulf Wrote on the "Correspondance" board:)
"Whas ta tinka?" Roath asked incredulously after Timothy had read him the important parts and they had discussed it's impications.
"I dunno 'bout you, but if someone put dat in frunna me I would jump onit like a rat ona candy covered turd!" he said.
"just think...no more sculkin around and hidin' an such, we can have a place ta live and three squares in our bell....oh I mean ifs ya still want me along....I uh..done have ta go witcha. I can make due down here, guess it's kinda nice an warm down here at least." Roath looked at his feet a bit degectedly.
"Just do me a favor, don't tell no one about the little thing with the sheep money kay?" He looked up at Sir Timothy.
"Got anuff peaple wantin a piece o my hide, done need dem guys on my butt too."
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Post by Brandwyn on Dec 13, 2011 16:06:14 GMT -5
Timothy chuckled, “I wouldn’t dream of it and no one else knows a thing about your involvement.” He looked fondly at his travelling companion. It had been nice to have someone to share the road with and talk to for the past year. He had grown very used to the routine they had established and was glad that Roath could put up with his darker side when he was in one of his moods. He was probably happier now than he had ever been since before…
He cleared his throat and grew serious, “Of course I want you with me, but I didn’t want to speak for you. This is not a decision to be made lightly. The Baron is talking about 20 more years of serving as a knight – in Norgate. That’s 20 years of cold, although I am quite used to it, but if I make you my squire, which is what I would like to do if I accept this offer, then it means you are likely to spend the greater part of your life up there where it gets bitter cold in the winter.” Timothy tossed another log onto their campfire and watched the sparks soar up into the twilit sky.
“It also means we do what the Baron or senior knights tell us and those knights are going to be younger than I, which is going to be hard to stomach, especially if they lack experience and sense.” Timothy scowled at the flames. “We won’t be able to just pick up and leave and go where we want to go. It will be asking for permission, always checking in and giving reports. Of course there are some distinct advantages, as you pointed out; regular meals, nice warm clothes, a roof over our heads most of the time with a warm fire in the hearth – when not out walking the walls at 2 am or patrolling the mountains for weeks on end – and then there is the possibility of companionship.” He said with a wistful look in his eye. “I never figured to be with a woman since my Lady…” his voice trailed off for a moment and then he cleared his throat again. “Well, at least you should have some little lasses that ought to be fawning all over you.” He grinned at Roath. “The court ladies are ever on the lookout for handsome young squires on their way to becoming knights. They seem to feel those make good husbands!” He chuckled again.
“I just want you to be sure and to really think about what this means.” Timothy studied the pardon document again. “It would be nice to be able to settle in the castle, have a home to come back to after a mission…maybe even Katrina…no, she is in love with that Dougal fellow though I still can’t understand why…but maybe some other woman would find me acceptable.” He studied Raoth for a couple of minutes.
“If you like the idea… I believe I will take the Baron up on his offer. You will still have time to make up your mind about being my squire since we won’t be able to squire you until we return to Norgate anyway. They make a big ceremony of it and all the knights have to be given a chance to air any objections they may have. Not that I think there will be any given the situation. Looks like the Baron isn’t being too picky about bloodlines right now in his effort to rebuild.” Then Tim thought about why he got this offer.
“There is one more thing to consider,” he said thoughtfully, “There is no guarantee we won’t be exposed to this plague when we go back up there. Hopefully it will be over long before we get back there, but you never know. I for one would much rather die by the sword than flat on my back wracked with fever and disease.” He scanned through the documents again and found a letter he had missed.
“What’s this? It is from Katrina.” He said excitedly. “I wonder how I missed this before, tucked into that document like that!” He quickly scanned it, several emotions played through on his face before he finished it and then he grinned at Roath. “I believe I have made up my mind. Unless you have some second thoughts, I am about to join the Norgate Army – again!” Then he turned back to the letter to read it all over again, much more slowly this time and he shared most of its contents with Roath.
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Post by Brandwyn on Dec 14, 2011 22:59:47 GMT -5
(OOC: Letter from Sir Katrina to Sir Timothy)
My Dearest Timothy,
I hope this missive and the accompanying documents reach you before you reach Celtica. I suppose if you are reading this, then they have.
I wanted to let you know that it was my idea to the Baron to reinstate those convicted of crimes with certain conditions although the Baron decided upon the conditions for each individual case. Many of the knights were against the idea. They had a valid point in that the Order of Chivalry should not accept those who were unchivalrous, but these are truly desperate times.
So many have died and there are only a handful of knights left. We seem to have been the hardest hit. Most who were injured in the wargal attack at the Revel have died. Pretty much all of us that were wounded caught the disease, myself not excluded. Fortunately I survived with only a bit of diminished strength which seems to slowly be coming back. Dougal did not catch it but I hear tell he nearly succumbed to madness when I was at my worst. They say there were several days when I was hovering between life and death and he never left my side. I am certain it was our love that kept me tethered here with him. Now that I am better, he has been sent on a secret mission and I worry for him.
I worry for Norgate as well. My gut tells me that our enemies are massing at the borders and infiltrating into the Kingdom unseen, waiting and biding their time until they can strike a vicious blow to Araluen. I have no evidence of this, but my instincts have never led me wrong before. The bands of Scotti outlaws that you and I tracked last year have grown larger and bolder despite all efforts to eradicate them.
I hope that you and your young friend got out in time and have not succumbed to the plague and if so, you are very lucky you left when you did. Norgate is nearly empty. Either the people are dead, or they have fled to Marshwood and other points south. If the Scotti were to launch an attack on Macindaw today, they could practically walk in and take it without any work at all. The rest of Norgate, except the castle itself is similarly vulnerable. I only hope the snows come early this year and stay deep keeping the mountains impassable.
I hope that this letter alleviates any concerns you may have that this is some sort of elaborate trap to get into Norgate’s dungeon. I assure you the offer is genuine even though there were some who opposed it. I am sure you can guess at who was your biggest adversary. Sir Thomas Conroy was livid and threatened to break is oath to the Baron should you be pardoned. That is to be expected since it was his cousin whom you… well, you know what happened better than anyone. Most of the knights are reserving judgment until they see how you conduct yourself. I have every confidence you will win them over.
Tim, I am very excited at this opportunity for you. Although we have not spent a great deal of time together, I have grown very fond of you as a friend and I welcome the day when we can walk through Norgate’s halls and speak openly without worrying that someone may try to stick a knife in your guts for some bounty.
I suspect you are trying to decide what you want to do and thinking that staying on the run and sticking to what you are familiar with would be easier. You are probably right, but you have never been one to take the easy path. All II ask is that you follow your heart. I know you do not trust it after what you did, but I believe that you have a good heart. It may have led you astray that one time, but you were very young and jealousy can be a very powerful emotion. As one who has gone berserk because of love on more than one occasion, I can certainly understand why you snapped like you did. You have been paying for it, however, for 40 years and the two of them were not blameless. I for one think you have done your time and now you should be pardoned.
Anyway, I will be sorely disappointed if you refuse the offer, although I can understand you not wanting to agree to all of those terms. Please consider the Baron’s offer seriously and come on home to Norgate as soon as you track those Wargals to their destination and glean what information you can about them. I am personally looking forward to seeing you walk through the front gate, with your head held high and a gleam in those sparkling eyes of yours!
I remain your friend always,
Kat
P.S. please say hello to that fine young fellow you are traveling with and tell him that he is most welcome here in Norgate as well, even if he doesn’t care for the wonderfully cold and snowy winters up here. We won’t hold that against him. Grin! I hope to see you both soon.
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Post by Ringulf on Jan 10, 2012 17:05:05 GMT -5
"Dang! I dunno 'bout you but she sounds like she wants to be more than friends! I don't know about dis Dougal guy dat she is all sappy about but hey, maybe you will catch a break and he will get killed or something!" Roath said light heartedly.
"I wanna go with you still, but the thought of goin back to the "Ice Palace" is not getting me all warm and fuzzy. Don't really care about girls, I really don't think none of dem would give me a second look anyway. even with real clothes I am not what you would call "Prince Charmin!" Heh, heh, heh!....Still it would be nice to belong someplace, even if it meant working, bleh! not sure if I am gonna get used to that! Whats a squire do anyway? if he takes care of your horse and weapons and armor and cooks your food and washes your damn smelly socks, den I been a squire now for almost a year or so! heh heh! I don't know if usin manners and reading and such is gonna happen, just don't have the knack, if you know what I mean....still three hots and a cot...OK what da hell less do it!"
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Post by Ringulf on May 15, 2012 21:07:44 GMT -5
Roath started packing up his horse. They had been getting very close and Roath hated to admit it but he was much more fond of the animal than he ever thought he would be. He looked over his things. He had been with Sir Timothy for a while now and in that time Timothy had been very kind to him.
Out of there collective till Tim had made sure the boy was well fed, dressed and shod. He had made sure they both had ample opportunities to bathe and take care of their hair and nails. All these things were new to Roath.
The hardest thing that youngster had to deal with was his hoarding nature. He collected all sorts of things that others saw as useless and re-purposed them into useful items. But when Sir Timothy saw what he made he went at the next opportunity and bought the real item and Roath then felt like there was no need to keep the homemade item.
This made him sad at first and a bit frustrated but then when he realized that he had everything he needed, he began to see the myriads of destitute and poor people who, like himself before his partnership with Timothy, had nothing.
So every town he came to on the road he looked for the urchins and beggars and homeless and he gave them everything he made or helped them out of his own pocket. He tried not to let Sir Timothy see what he was doing but he was no fool and Roath knew there were times Tim saw things but said nothing.
He looked at his leather weapons belt. It was sturdy and plain with no ornamentation but it was finely made compared to anything he ever owned. He looked at the short sword sheath and the cross guard and hilt of his weapon. Cleaned polished but very familiar to him. He pulled it free to reveal the broken sword that he had found on a battlefield with its blade snapped almost in half. he had ground it down on a flat rock till it had almost resembled a crude seax. Now it was finely ground and polished with a keen edge and a very serviceable point, though it was still in it's seax shape. Timothy had done that too and had taught him how to use it to defend himself. Timothy had tried to have Roath give up the old piece in lieu of a real short sword that he was prepared to get him but it was one of the last reminders of what he used to be in his former life and would not let it go.
He had a belt pouch and haversack and a sueded fleece vest over his plain natural tan tunic. brown, almost maroon breeches and tanned leather turnshoe boots that came up to his mid calf. He even had a warm grey cloak made of a loose woven linsey woolsy called Wadmal by the Skandians. He rolled up his woolen bedrole and slipped it into the leather wrapping and mounted it up by his saddlebags.
"Well I am ready to blow dis place are we goin north to Princess Snowflake? Or are we gonna catch a couple more of da stinkin monkeys we been shodowin?"
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Post by Brandwyn on May 16, 2012 22:18:48 GMT -5
"Dang! I dunno 'bout you but she sounds like she wants to be more than friends! I don't know about dis Dougal guy dat she is all sappy about but hey, maybe you will catch a break and he will get killed or something!" Roath said light heartedly.
Tim looked askance at Roath and just raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “I seriously doubt she wants anything more than to be friends. Doesn’t matter anyway…” his voice trailed off and he tried not to think about his lost love. That train of thought would only sink him into a depression.
"I wanna go with you still, but the thought of goin back to the "Ice Palace" is not getting me all warm and fuzzy. Don't really care about girls, I really don't think none of dem would give me a second look anyway. even with real clothes I am not what you would call "Prince Charmin!" Heh, heh, heh!....
Tim laughed, shaking off the melancholy thoughts of his past. “Oh I don’t know about that, my handsome young friend.” Timothy warned. “There is more than one girl in Castle Norgate that would like to use you to ‘get back at Daddy’ or whomever just because you are a commoner. There are also some that like to take risks and will seek you out, especially if they know it is forbidden for them to be with you.” Tim went back to polishing his grieve to match the sheen on the grieve on his other shin. “Besides, I think you may be surprised at how much battleschool apprenticeship is going to change you – if you accept.”
“…Still it would be nice to belong someplace, even if it meant working, bleh! not sure if I am gonna get used to that! Whats a squire do anyway? if he takes care of your horse and weapons and armor and cooks your food and washes your damn smelly socks, den I been a squire now for almost a year or so! heh heh!”
“Yep, that’s what it means! All that and any other nasty little chore I decide you need to perform.” Tim laughed again. “But it also is what I can teach you. I have only showed you a few basic things to defend yourself so far. As an apprentice I can begin training you in earnest to use a weapon. First thing is to figure out which weapon suits you best. Before you become a knight you will have to know how to use many weapons, but most knights have a weapon of choice and only two or three they are really proficient with.”
“I don't know if usin manners and reading and such is gonna happen, just don't have the knack, if you know what I mean....still three hots and a cot...OK what da hell less do it!"
Chuckling, Tim said, “Well we will just take one thing at a time. Welcome to the Norgate Battle School!” He patted Roath on the back, “may God have mercy on your soul… not to mention your body. Heh heh.” He chuckled mischievously.
Some time later they were settling their gear to get back on the road again. Timothy had made some purchases to outfit them with plenty of food and other supplies for a trip up the Southern Cliffs and onto Morgaroth’s Plateau since that is where he suspected the Wargals had come from originally and where this band he was following were likely heading.
On the pack horse was climbing gear as well as a 10x12 tent with the other supplies. Normally Timothy didn’t travel with all the gear, but they were going to be away from civilization for quite a long time and he wanted to be as prepared as they could be. Besides, if he ran into any Celts, he needed to look like an Araluen knight rather than a vagabond, thus the large tent.
Timothy glanced over to Roath and saw he was pretty much ready to go.
"Well I am ready to blow dis place are we goin north to Princess Snowflake? Or are we gonna catch a couple more of da stinkin monkeys we been shodowin?" Roath asked as if he had read Timothy’s mind.
“We are going south and east, up the Southern Cliffs and onto the plateau if I read the tracks right.” Timothy answered. “We lost some time the last couple days and their trail is growing faint. We are going to have to keep pushing on to catch up with them.” He only hoped they would find a route up the cliffs they could bring their horses up. He wasn’t going to give up Tonnerre. He would give up on the quest first or bring Tonnerre back and have him stabled until his return. He mounted his warhorse and settled the lead line of the pack horse through the ring on the back of his saddle. “Let’s move out.” He said to Roath.
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They spent the next few days following the faint trail along the north edge of the Southern Cliffs. They were moving far out away from civilization and into territory that the nomadic people called their home. The land was arid, but there were isolated pockets of water and it seemed the Wargals could sense them or knew beforehand where they were for they made straight lines from one water hole to the next. Timothy nearly lost the trail a couple of times and it seemed to him that it was getting older. After two days he figured they were heading to the old pass where Morgarath had built a bridge many years before to bring the Wargals down into Araluen. That made sense since there were not a lot of places to cross the chasm and scale the cliffs. Timothy wondered if the bridge had been rebuilt and if so, why hadn’t anyone in Araluen noticed it and informed the King?
In the evenings after they had made camp and eaten dinner, Tim worked on weapons training with Roath. He was working him with a sword and shield to start out, having learned that first himself and so far had pretty much only shown him how to block blows from various types of weapons. Now he began to show Roath the follow through attacks to counter his opponent’s attacks.
He was sparring with Roath, although at a much slower speed than would actually happen in battle so that he could correct Roath’s stance, grip and posture as they went, ensuring his muscles did not develop any bad muscle memory. A lot of the work was repetitive and he increased the speed as Roath began to get comfortable with it. Every so often he would deviate, to throw Roath off guard and look out for the unexpected. Usually this lesson was punctuated by Timothy slapping a sensitive body part of one type or another with the side of his sword, usually resulting in a good bruise.
He was perhaps pushing Roath a bit faster than he would be getting if he were at the battleschool, but he needed the lad to be able to defend himself at the very least should they end up confronting the Wargals. That wasn’t his plan, but he had to prepare for it none-the-less.
On the fourth night out he called a halt to their practice as the last dying rays of the sun settled on the trail behind them. They were vulnerable out in the open and so had put out the cooking fire as soon as they had finished supper. The wind was picking up, blowing sand at them and stinging his eyes. It was going to be a rather chilly night tonight, if Timothy was any judge of the weather.
“So, Roath, what do you think of being a squire so far? Everything living up to your expectations?” Timothy asked with a mischievous light in his eyes. He had just delivered a rather strong blow to the back of Roath’s right leg with the flat of his sword. He would likely have a bruise on that for a couple of weeks. Timothy remembered the first one of those blows he himself had earned and grinned even broader. “Don’t worry, it only gets worse from here!” he laughed, and then grew sober, “Seriously though, I am trying to get you ready so you will survive in case we do end up facing any of these Wargals. They are not easy creatures to kill.” Tim said as he settled down in his bedroll, using his saddle as a pillow.
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Post by Ringulf on Jun 19, 2012 22:14:03 GMT -5
“So, Roath, what do you think of being a squire so far? Everything living up to your expectations?” Timothy asked with a mischievous light in his eyes. He had just delivered a rather strong blow to the back of Roath’s right leg with the flat of his sword. He would likely have a bruise on that for a couple of weeks.
"Oh yeah! Squiring...lotsa fun! now I don't only get to do all the crap I done before, but I gotta get beaten every night by that big steel paddle you call a sword! I don't think I got a place on my whole ass that ain't turnin' some unnatural color! I think you enjoy dis trainin a little to much! I got less beatin's runnin from the gangs! Hey!...are you sure there is really squires and knights an all that?...'cause I heard of guys who would make stuff up like that an make ya go through all kinds a crap to get into clubs and stuff!"
Timothy remembered the first one of those blows he himself had earned and grinned even broader. “Don’t worry, it only gets worse from here!” he laughed, and then grew sober, “Seriously though, I am trying to get you ready so you will survive in case we do end up facing any of these Wargals. They are not easy creatures to kill.” Tim said as he settled down in his bedroll, using his saddle as a pillow.
"I hit one wdda rock the other day an he mighta died if you had not cut his head off..well I mean from the rock."
He picked up another rock and threw it at a scrubby little tree a ways away. The rock hit the tree dead center. he threw another at the same tree hitting it just an inch to the left of the first mark. The last one in his hand was a bit bigger and he threw it hard and it was jus above his first throw.
Yeah I know your tryin to keep me from gettin killed out here and I don't think you are really a "sayist" or whatever but I ain't kiddin my arms almost hurt as much as my butt! I don't think I am cut out for this "Sword and Board" stuff that gives all you knights the warm fuzzies!
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 1, 2012 17:03:48 GMT -5
"Oh yeah! Squiring...lotsa fun! Now I don't only get to do all the crap I done before, but I gotta get beaten every night by that big steel paddle you call a sword! I don't think I got a place on my whole ass that ain't turnin' some unnatural color! I think you enjoy dis trainin a little too much! I got less beatin's runnin from the gangs! Hey!...are you sure there is really squires and knights an all that?...'cause I heard of guys who would make stuff up like that an make ya go through all kinds a crap to get into clubs and stuff!"
Timothy laughed, rolling onto his back and stared up at the stars in the sky. “I do believe that is what the knights are – just another club,” he chuckled for several minutes, “heh, I like that analogy.”
"I hit one widda rock the other day an he mighta died if you had not cut his head off...well I mean from the rock."
He picked up another rock and threw it at a scrubby little tree a ways away. The rock hit the tree dead center. He threw another at the same tree hitting it just an inch to the left of the first mark. The last one in his hand was a bit bigger and he threw it hard and it was just above his first throw.
Timothy watched Roath’s accuracy with the stone with interest. “You know, that little trick of yours there tossing rocks might just come in handy sometime. Keep practicing it so you don’t lose your edge because it appears you’re deadly accurate as it is, assuming that is the tree you were aiming for?” Timothy asked with a raised eyebrow, knowing full well that Roath really was deadly accurate with a rock. “I bet you might do well throwing darts.” He mused, thinking Roath could probably have a career gambling at darts.
”Yeah I know your tryin to keep me from gettin killed out here and I don't think you are really a "sayist" or whatever but I ain't kiddin my arms almost hurt as much as my butt! I don't think I am cut out for this "Sword and Board" stuff that gives all you knights the warm fuzzies!”
“I believe the word you are looking for is ‘sadist’” Timothy smiled, hooking his arms behind his head. “Well, you grow into the exercise, it just hurts at first. We have to get those muscles built up you know?” He looked at Roath’s build and decided the boy probably would not grow up to be a huge hulk of a man, but likely would be one of those wiry, strong, agile types. “Unfortunately you have to learn the basics of the shield when you are in battle school, but I don’t plan to keep you working with it even though it is favored among most of the knights. You are more suited to two-handed weapons or a weapon in each hand I think. I can see you doing very well with a longsword in your good hand and a long knife in your off hand to use both to block and to attack with.” He considered their road ahead and Roath’s training and came to a decision, “Tell you what, since nothing about the two of us is your typical battle school master and apprentice, why should your training be the standard formula? Starting tomorrow we are going to ditch the shield and I will start teaching you how fighting really goes on when you are on the road and facing a bunch of bandits. Now get to sleep, we are going to be up before dawn and back on the trail.”
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During the night the temperature dropped down very low as is normal in very arid climates when there aren’t any clouds in the skies. When the sun came up, the winds picked up and the sand peppered them, covering everything in a fine gritty dust. Timothy did some stretches and walked around in a circle for a bit, trying to get his leg loosened up. He wondered if that old wound was ever going to heal up completely and leave him pain free.
They broke camp and Timothy set a fast pace. He was still following their trail, but now he was going along the edge of the chasm and looking for signs of a way to cross, only occasionally double checking the trail.
His suspicions were confirmed late that afternoon as they approached the old burned out bridge. At first glance, it looked like the bridge was just as un-crossable as the day Will Treaty had caught it on fire, at least so it appeared from a distance. As it loomed on the horizon, Timothy’s feeling of being exposed increased. He called a halt and scanned the cliffs with his eyes, looking for any sign that they could be under observation.
“Do you see anything Roath?” he asked, certain the younger man had better eyesight than his. “Smoke over the horizon at the top of the cliffs, movement, a wargal-shaped shadow in the rocks, anything?” Timothy asked his friend as he scanned the bridge and the wall of rock beyond it. “Maybe we should dismount here and go check things out on foot. I feel like a sitting duck up here on the horses silhouetted by the sunset.”
He found a patch of low scrub brush and loosely tied Tonnerre to it. Flechette swooped down to land on his shoulder whistling excitedly. Timothy looked at her, wondering what she was going on about. Then he motioned Roath to follow him and they carefully wended their way closer to the burned up bridge.
What they found made Tim groan softly to himself and his young companion, “look there,” he whispered, “those are fresh planks on the left side of the bridge, aren’t they?”
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 2, 2012 12:12:19 GMT -5
“Do you see anything Roath?” he asked, certain the younger man had better eyesight than his. “Smoke over the horizon at the top of the cliffs, movement, a wargal-shaped shadow in the rocks, anything?” Timothy asked his friend as he scanned the bridge and the wall of rock beyond it. “Maybe we should dismount here and go check things out on foot. I feel like a sitting duck up here on the horses silhouetted by the sunset.”
Roathe got off his pony and sidled up to the fissure. He peered down into it to the bottom and scanned the walls of the far side he also picked out a path among the rocks that led down to the bottom from this side.
"Well...don't see none of them waggles runnin around down there but I can sure smell um! Nope, nothin down there but rocks and skulls and bones, and that rusty ole seax knife stickin up!"
"This hidden path over here is an easy way down if you want to get a closer look. I guess they throw lotsa people over the edge over here, That or they are really bad cliff divers heh heh heh!"
He found a patch of low scrub brush and loosely tied Tonnerre to it. Flechette swooped down to land on his shoulder whistling excitedly. Timothy looked at her, wondering what she was going on about. Then he motioned Roath to follow him and they carefully wended their way closer to the burned up bridge.
"That brige looks like smokey bones too! you say that that Will kid burned it all up? What a yutz! why ya gotta burn de only bridge in the whole nasty place? How's a guy supposed to cross dis stink hole?"
What they found made groan softly to himself and his young companion, “look there,” he whispered, “those are fresh planks on the left side of the bridge, aren’t they?”
"Yup those are new for sure, couldn't get an army over them but it won't stop you and me, or the horses for that matter as long as we walk them. but gettin back to dis Ranger Will guy, I guess he wasn't such a yutz after all, he made a mess of dis bridge but he ket them waggles and such from attacking outa here huh? Maybe I will go down there and grab that pig sticker of his I could most likely clean it up an use it an if I ever see this guy I can say "Hey Mighty Ranger Will! Here you dropped your knife be more carefull will yah!" He chuckled and with the agility of some little rock lizard he popped down to the bottom like it was a sunday stroll in the park.
He walked over to were the seax stuck out and picked it up. There was a bit of a dent in the pummel were it must have hit when it landed and in Roath's mind's eye he could see the thick blade spinning in the air after the bounce and coming to rest in that spot.
He looked up at Timothy and waved the put his foot up on an old peice of barrel and struck an intrepid heroic pose with the blade thrust over his head. Hr laughed and waved again calling up.
Hey look I am Will treaty I eat skandian for lunch and kill waggles wit my trusty waggle womper!"
He looked at the blade and sat down on the barrel, hey you know it is kinda crappy on the outside but I have cleaned up worse before, dose araluen ranger smithy guys knew what dey was doin huh?" And just as he said that his but broke through the rotton wood of the barrel like object he was sitting on.
"Ah! Crap! dis aint no barrel issa chest an it's got stuff in it!....Whoa...uh Master Timothy Sir, oh knightly paddler of my bottom and all around stand up guy, can I keep dis if I finded it?"
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 2, 2012 22:16:10 GMT -5
"Well...don't see none of them waggles runnin around down there but I can sure smell um! Nope, nothin down there but rocks and skulls and bones, and that rusty ole seax knife stickin up!" "This hidden path over here is an easy way down if you want to get a closer look. I guess they throw lotsa people over the edge over here, That or they are really bad cliff divers heh heh heh!"
“I am more concerned as to if there are “Waggles” over there or up on that plateau above.” Timothy said softly, “and you might want to keep it down a little, huh? I think they have pretty good hearing.” Timothy moved closer to inspect the bridge while Roath nosed around the Fissure’s edge.
Roath came up behind him, "That bridge looks like Smokey bones too! you say that that Will kid burned it all up? What a yutz! why ya gotta burn de only bridge in the whole nasty place? How's a guy supposed to cross dis stink hole?"
“Yeah, it was mighty inconsiderate of him alright. He should have just let that ‘Waggle’ army march right over it and straight up to Araluen to take the throne away from King Duncan.” Timothy said with a straight face, sizing up the newly rebuilt bridge. The support beam running across the chasm from north to south had been replaced with two fresh, hand-hewn beams to form the base of the bridge. Planks were nailed across the two support beams that were placed side-by-side between the north pillar and the broken southern pillar. All of the wooden structure that had been rebuilt was slightly below the ground level of the plains so it was not visible until you got right up on it. The rope hand rails really blended in nicely against the backdrop of the cliffs. The construction looked fairly recent, like within the past year.
"Yup those are new for sure, couldn't get an army over them but it won't stop you and me, or the horses for that matter as long as we walk them. but gettin back to dis Ranger Will guy, I guess he wasn't such a yutz after all, he made a mess of dis bridge but he ket them waggles and such from attacking outa here huh? Maybe I will go down there and grab that pig sticker of his I could most likely clean it up an' use it an if I ever see this guy I can say "Hey Mighty Ranger Will! Here you dropped your knife be more careful will yah!" He chuckled and with the agility of some little rock lizard he popped down to the bottom like it was a Sunday stroll in the park.
Timothy scanned the plateau above and the cave opening on the other end of the bridge, wondering if there were any wargals nearby and thinking that if there were, they surely would have been spotted by now.
He turned around in time to see Roath disappear down the path he’d found. “Roath, wait!” Timothy ran over to the edge and peered down and his stomach gave a lurch. Roath was well on his way to the bottom and Timothy couldn’t even see this ‘path’ he spoke of. “Damn!” he swore softly and ran back to the horses, He didn’t like leaving them there on the plains alone, but knew he was going to have to go down into the Fissure after his squire. He untied the horses and looped their reins over the bushes, hoping the horses would stay put, but leaving it so they could get away should they need to.
Grabbing the climbing gear and the backpack full of food, Timothy hurried back to the fissure’s edge. He secured one end of the rope around a large rock and looped it around his legs to form a makeshift harness within which he could slide up and down the rope. He glanced down again and then closed his eyes for a moment, offering up a prayer for safekeeping and then tried to follow Roath to the bottom, but at a much slower pace, letting out the line as he went.
Roath walked over to were the seax stuck out and picked it up. There was a bit of a dent in the pummel were it must have hit when it landed and in Roath's mind's eye he could see the thick blade spinning in the air after the bounce and coming to rest in that spot.
He looked up at Timothy and waved the put his foot up on an old piece of barrel and struck an intrepid heroic pose with the blade thrust over his head. Hr laughed and waved again calling up.
Hey look I am Will treaty I eat Skandian for lunch and kill waggles wit my trusty waggle womper!"
Tim shook his head, but grinned at Roath’s remarks. “Mighty warrior indeed! Better womp that snake sneaking up on you behind those rocks.” Timothy increased his speed down the cliff as much as he could without actually repelling down on the rope. He noticed that the river at the bottom was very dry, and flowing well below its normal waterline. “Oh, I must have been mistaken, it’s not a snake, just a water reed that is half dried up.” Timothy smirked.
Roath looked at the blade and sat down on the barrel, “Hey you know it is kinda crappy on the outside but I have cleaned up worse before, dose Araluen ranger smithy guys knew what dey was doin huh?" And just as he said that his but broke through the rotten wood of the barrel like object he was sitting on.
"Ah! Crap! dis aint no barrel. Issa chest an it's got stuff in it!....Whoa...uh Master Timothy Sir, oh knightly paddler of my bottom and all around stand up guy, can I keep dis if I finded it?"
Timothy skidded down the last few feet, nearly falling but somehow managed to keep his balance. He disengaged the rope from his legs and waist and walked over to Roath, not entirely happy they were in the bottom of the Fissure. The light was dimmer down here.
“What’d ya find?” he asked, sidestepping the question for a moment. He peered into the trunk’s contents and made a nearly silent low whistle of the surprise. The front of the chest had an emblem on it. It was a Gallican seal and inside the chest that looked like a payroll strongbox was a pile of old Gallican coins. Timothy picked one up and looked it over closely. “So it’s been down here long enough to rot the wood, but it’s not ancient.” Tim mused as he inspected the area and then looked straight up at where the plateau jutted out slightly high above them. “good place for executions, but why would someone drop a trunk full of gold off the cliff?”
He made note of the skulls around them and noticed that most of them were wargal skulls, not human as he had first thought. “Maybe the gold belonged to that fellow,” Tim pointed at a human skeleton lying broken upon a rock a few feet away. “Suppose he could have fallen trying to cross the bridge.” Timothy thought for a moment and then unslung the food bags from his back and redistributed them.
He tossed the bag to Roath, “Fill your pockets and then put the rest in this sack and tie it to the end of that rope I left hanging down the side of the canyon. We can pull it up when we go back up to get the horses.” Timothy took a handful of gold and placed it in his pouch. “If we don’t find the rightful owners, then it’s yours, but don’t blame me if those noble girls won’t let you alone cuz now you’ll not only be a handsome fellow in your finery, but you’ll be rich to boot.” Tim chuckled and then moved on up until he was almost under the bridge.
“Say now, what do we have here?” He gave another low whistle of surprise. Before him was a cave that was hidden from view by the way the rocks were formed around the fissure. It looked as if the rock had split in two and made a crack wide enough for a horse to pass through. Tim grabbed two of the Wargal leg bones and some ragged fur and tattered clothing and wrapped it around one end of each bone, fashioning two torches. He poured some lamp oil from his pack onto them and lit one of them. “You done playing with that gold, Roath? I got something to show you.”
He walked into the cave a little way and noticed that it opened up fairly quickly. Normally the bottom of the cave would be filled with water, if the river had been at its normal height, but the drought in this area obviously had the water levels at an all time low. There was a water line about two feet above the floor of the cave and as Tim made his way back deeper, he noticed that the walls seemed to be hand hewn on one side, rather than naturally made. “Someone’s been carving this out for some reason.” As he rounded a stone that jutted out into the cave floor, he then saw why. There was a small wooden pier, completely exposed now for there was no water in the cave, and a canoe moored to the pier, its one end resting on the cave floor and the other tied up by a rope to the pier. Stone stairs were carved from the pier up into the cave wall and disappeared around a bend, as if they were a spiral stairway.
“Come take a look Roath!” Timothy called softly, lighting the other torch so he could hand it to his apprentice. “I bet this goes up to the bridge or the plateau above,” he muttered as he peered up the stairwell.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 4, 2013 16:58:27 GMT -5
He(Timothy)walked into the cave a little way and noticed that it opened up fairly quickly. Normally the bottom of the cave would be filled with water, if the river had been at its normal height, but the drought in this area obviously had the water levels at an all time low. There was a water line about two feet above the floor of the cave and as Tim made his way back deeper, he noticed that the walls seemed to be hand hewn on one side, rather than naturally made. “Someone’s been carving this out for some reason.” As he rounded a stone that jutted out into the cave floor, he then saw why. There was a small wooden pier, completely exposed now for there was no water in the cave, and a canoe moored to the pier, its one end resting on the cave floor and the other tied up by a rope to the pier. Stone stairs were carved from the pier up into the cave wall and disappeared around a bend, as if they were a spiral stairway.
“Come take a look Roath!” Timothy called softly, lighting the other torch so he could hand it to his apprentice. “I bet this goes up to the bridge or the plateau above,” he muttered as he peered up the stairwell. Roath having stuffed his pouch an pockets with the gualic coins and tied the sack to the rope of the rest stuck the rusty seaxe in his belt on the small of his back so he could draw it from the left.
"I'm cummin don't get too far ahead I wanna see dis!" he said as he came puffing right up next to Timothy.
"Whoa now dis is a right nice little set up! I wonder if this is the way da bridge guards recover the bodies or how they might use de river for a quick getaway! Not much river now. Da thing that's got me puzzled is were dese stairs go and why you need a boat down here, were does dis river go and whats up above? by the way you knew about da bridge did you happen to hear about what is beyond it?"
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Post by Ringulf on Dec 7, 2013 19:35:54 GMT -5
They climbed the spiral stairs leading up, up, up. They were roughly hewn but fairly even which seemed to them both that the Wargals had not been the ones to have constructed them. When they reached the top they found they were on the same elevation as the bridge but quite a ways down the path. They could hear faint noises and the far off sounds of many voices, but to Roathe it seemed as though these were not the grunts and crude speech patterns of wargals but the sounds of humans, like he had remembered on the market days in the city as it seemed now, so long ago.
"Hey dat aint no waggles I'm hearin, dems humans or I aint no urchin!" He said in a harsh wisper to Timothy.
"What da hell is people doin here? dere aint no cities down here in da south are dere? I tought you said dis was waggle territory?"
They were almost to the end of the tunnel that had led through the rise and falls of the rough rocky path winding up the face of the plataue.
"Well the path seems to be comin to an end just up round dis corner, da sounds of dem people is gettin louder, I can even pick up a few words now and den."
Just before they came to the last turn they heard voices much closer and they were also human but they seemed to be barking orders and the growls and grunts of Wargals seemed to be the reply.
"Oh Crap dem sounds guard-like ta me. We better take a peep for we walk up on em huh?" Roath said back to Timothy as he drew his short sword slowly and quietly.
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Post by Brandwyn on Dec 16, 2013 21:52:45 GMT -5
"Hey dat aint no waggles I'm hearin, dems humans or I aint no urchin!" He said in a harsh wisper to Timothy.
"Well there is no doubt you are an urchin!" whispered Sir Timothy while giving Roath a pointed look.
"What da hell is people doin here? dere aint no cities down here in da south are dere? I tought you said dis was waggle territory?"
"A good question," answered Timothy. "That's something I would like to know as well."
They were almost to the end of the tunnel that had led through the rise and falls of the rough rocky path winding up the face of the plataue.
"Well the path seems to be comin to an end just up round dis corner, da sounds of dem people is gettin louder, I can even pick up a few words now and den."
Just before they came to the last turn they heard voices much closer and they were also human but they seemed to be barking orders and the growls and grunts of Wargals seemed to be the reply.
"Oh Crap dem sounds guard-like ta me. We better take a peep for we walk up on em huh?" Roath said back to Timothy as he drew his short sword slowly and quietly.
"Good idea," agreed Tim. "You are the stealthy one, why don't you take point and check it out," Timothy suggested. "Just try not to get caught!... and keep quiet!" He very carefully drew his sword without making any noise whatsoever. "Let's put out the torches here so they can't see our lights." He extinguished their torch and placed a hand on Roath's arm to hold him in place until their eyes adjusted to the sudden near darkness.
"If you should happen to be caught act like you are crazy," he suggested. "I can't guarantee it will help, but most primitive cultures respect madness and leave the poor unfortunate one alone. He couldn't guarantee it would help Roath, but he figured it wouldn't hurt.
Timothy would keep an eye on him and try to stay quiet so the Wargals, or whomever was out there, couldn't hear him unless Roath hollared for help. He only hoped Roath wouldn't venture out in the midst of what Timothy suspected might be an army.
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