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Post by Brandwyn on May 9, 2010 16:39:20 GMT -5
*(OOC: WARNING: Some of the content on this thread is of a more mature nature.)
(OOC: This thread picks up where Rat Catcher and the Bear left off. The time is the very end of April in the year 655 in the fief of Caraway.)
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“Ahhh! Yes, Yer Excellency, tha' necklace brings out ze color of yer eyes.” Glorfindel held the necklace up to the neck of a noble woman patronizing her wagon shop. They were looking at the woman’s reflection in a small mirror Fin had hung on the side of her wagon for just such purposes. The necklace in question was designed and crafted by Fin with a small sapphire stone as the main setting with silver wire wrapped around the stone. Pearls and hand carved metal beads with small blue glass beads interspersed made up the rest of the necklace.
“I don’t know…” the Lady studied how the necklace looked against her skin. “It is very nice but I was thinking for something a bit more… extravagant, especially for that price.”
“It ze one-of-ze-kind item, made by me own 'and.” Fin said, but knew she was going to have to sweeten the pot to close the sale. “I can make ye a matching pair o' ear bands ta go wi' it. No extra charge.”
The woman thought for a moment and then nodded. “Very well, I shall return in a while to pick them up.” Fin inclined her head and sat back down behind her workbench and began to construct the matching ear rings. She figured it would only take a half an hour or so for the set. She hummed a nursery rhyme from her childhood as she worked, glancing up every so often to nod at those who stopped to watch her work.
She had pulled into Caraway earlier in the week and set her wagon up in the city’s merchant square. The wagon was both merchant shop and home. She had made an outer wall on each side of the wagon which opened up to form the “roof” on both sides. She had canvas walls that hung down from the “roof” to form a tent on both sides of the wagon. She had her merchant shop on one side and her living quarters on the other. She could enter the wagon from the back. Her bed was actually in the wagon, across the front nearest to the hitch. She used the tent on the right side of the wagon as a living space with rugs on the tarp on the ground and a low dining table with two chairs she made herself. In one corner was a pile of pillows and in another a portable wardrobe that held her fancier clothing for festivals and weddings.
On the shop side, once the false wall was opened up and the corner poles in place to hold it, the side of the wagon then sported a variety of shelves and some display cases. She had the ability to pull the canvas walls back so the shop was open in nice weather or close it up in bad weather or at night. She set her forge up just outside at the back of the wagon and had tables and racks displaying the variety of items she had made. There were a great many weapons and armor pieces, as well as bits, bridles, horseshoes, stirrups and other tack items; she had spits, grills, pots and various other cookware as well as metal shuttered lanterns and candelabras. But of all of her wares, she enjoyed making the jewelry the most. Her jewelry was a mixture of glass and metal beads that she crafted herself with a few precious gems when she had the means to trade for them. For the poorer folk she had jewelry made of polished or cut river stones or shells and hand-carved wooden beads.
Her jewelry was displayed on a long table just within the edge of the roof so her customers could step in out of the sun to view the items. Fin sat just behind the display table with her workbench to the side so she could keep an eye on everything.
Which was a good thing, because just as she was finishing up the second earring, she saw out of the corner of her eye a young boy flit by her shop and brush up against the table. Two necklaces worth several silver pieces were now missing and the boy was quickly blending into the crowd.
In a flash Fin was on her feet and her bull whip snaked out silently and wrapped around the boy’s ankle. He fell on his face with a screech and she reeled him in while he clawed at the ground to escape. She placed her foot in the middle of his back and he squirmed under it, screaming for help. People stopped to watch and the merchant of the leather booth next door applauded her. “Tha’s ze way of it girl. Cut off hee’s ‘and fer stealin’” He laughed with glee. Fin ignored him as she twisted the bull whip and it released the boy’s ankle. She grabbed hold of the boy’s worn out tunic between his shoulder blades as she removed her foot and hoisted him up into the air so his head was at her eye level. He twisted and kicked at her and she dug her thumb into his skin just below the shoulder blade.
“Stop kickin'.” Fin looked him over, taking note of the ragged clothes and the gaunt cheeks and haunted look in his eye behind the bravado. “Hand ze jewels back o'er.” She held out her hand palm up in front of the lad.
“What jewels?” The boy squirmed. “I don’ have no jewels.” He said sullenly.
Fin dug her thumb in deeper under his shoulder blade and pulled up on it and the boy whimpered in pain. “Come on now, cough ‘em up and I vill let ye go.”
The boy eyed her in disbelief but as the pain in his shoulder increased he realized that it was futile to resist and he reached into his waist band and pulled out the two necklaces and set them in her hand.
Fin nodded and set them on the table next to her bullwhip. Then she reached down to her own belt and pulled loose a tiny pouch containing several copper pieces and a silver piece. She pushed it into the boy’s hand and set his feet on the ground. Leaning over she whispered in his ear, “fer ye and yer friends. Now vrun quickly ‘afore ze guard gets ‘ere.” She let him go, making sure nothing was missing again from her table. She stood with hands on hips as the boy disappeared in the crowd.
She heard shouting and turned to look. The city guard was fast marching up the square toward her booth and the crowd quickly dispersed before they arrived. Fin stood in front of her booth, her arms crossed and waited for them, her face impassive.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 14, 2010 13:03:45 GMT -5
"Tha' wuz eh kindleh thing yu did fer tha we bairn, Bu' Ah mus sey Ah liked the bullwhip part mooch be'er Lass."
The tall sandy haired Highlander said with a chuckle in his voice and a twinkle in his deep blue eyes as he leaned on one of the posts near the wagon.
"Now Ah think yew meh want tew cunsider meltin aweh yerself b'fore those gards start askin lawts o questions."
A kindly but also mischeivious smile played across his face making his beard wag and his mustache spread like the wings of an eagle, showing a string of strait white teeth.
"ah wuz wundrin if yew cou' show meh sum of yer wears as Ah am interesed in findin sum rare baubels?" "Dew yew think yew cou' healp meh out sum?"
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 14, 2010 14:35:22 GMT -5
"Tha' wuz eh kindleh thing yu did fer tha we bairn, Bu' Ah mus sey Ah liked the bullwhip part mooch be'er Lass."
Fin glanced over to the Highlander, having missed when he had actually arrived on the scene, a rather unusual thing for her. Normally she was aware of every minute detail in and around her shop at all times. She must still be feeling the effects of the rather heavy drink she’d partaken of at the rather remarkable tavern down the street called The Wallowing River Otter. For a run-down looking joint, the place had been amazingly clean and the food delicious. She had gotten in on a drinking game of dice and had been up until the wee hours of the morning playing. Since she had been playing for drinks, she had not really lost much money and the company had been good. The down side is that she was a little less alert this morning than normal.
She gave a nod and smiled at the handsome, muscular man, looking him over as she waited for the guard to arrive.
"Now Ah think yew meh want tew cunsider meltin aweh yerself b'fore those gards start askin lawts o questions."
“Bah! Ze are no threat te me.” Fin shrugged and picked up her bullwhip again. From her waist hung the sword she had made for herself which at first glance seemed rather plain and non-descript, but upon closer inspection was a finely forged weapon made from the best steel. The hilt was in the shape of a hawk, its head being the pommel, the grip its body and the cross guard the wings. The talons of the hawk stretched down onto the blade on each side. But the design was subtle and only upon close inspection was it noticeable. The dagger hanging on the other hip was a matching blade. “Ze guard here alvays zeem to be one step behind ze criminals, from wha’ I ‘ave zeen. In Bruinheim, zat boy and hiz friends vould be fed by ze clan and ‘ave no need ta be zteelin from ze merchants jest ta find food.”
She shook her head for a moment at the sad plight of the average street urchin in Araluen. She had seen many in her travels and honestly could not remember the same problem in her own country. She was sure there were orphans, but the problem didn’t seem so pronounced. Then again, she had been quite young when she’d left and it had been several years. She shrugged again, setting her muscles under her Skandian dress to rippling.
The guard approached and asked what was wrong. They’d heard reports of screaming.
“Notzing wrong ‘ere, Me Lairds.” Fin replied. “Ah ‘ad a minor discuzzion wi’ a local boy, but it is all zettled now.” She smiled at the Captain of the guard, flashing him one of her best. “Ze boy ran off zat way if ye’d like to take it up wi’ him.” She pointed 90 degrees to the way the lad had actually gone. “tall lad wi’ dark hair.” She made up a description, enjoying the thought of the guard running around on a wild goose chase.
The captain nodded and thanked her and the troop of town guardsman headed off in the direction she indicated. The merchant next door snorted and shook his head and Fin grinned at him.
She looked back to the Highlander as he said, "ah wuz wundrin if yew cou' show meh sum of yer wears as Ah am interesed in findin sum rare baubels?" "Dew yew think yew cou' healp meh out sum?"
Cocking her head so her long red braid slid out from behind her back, Fin studied him for a moment, trying to figure out his accent and then when she did, studying his eyes to see if he meant the innuendo he suggested. From the mischievous look on his face she guessed he did and she hoped she wasn’t so hung-over that she couldn’t come up with a witty response.
Crossing her arms under her ample breasts and standing up a bit straighter, suggestively, she said, “Baubles ye zay? Vell, now, I ‘ave a lot o’ baubles around ‘ere.” She winked at him. “’ave a zeat ‘ere n tell me if ye ‘ave anyzing zpecial in mind. Vould ye like a vee bit o’ col' ale?” She fished into a wooden trunk under the table which was ‘sweating’ and emitted frost when she opened it. Pulling out a corked bottle of cold, honey colored ale, she began to pour some into a clean mug.
“Me name is Fin, by ze vay. Glorfindel Helga Theronsdottir actually, be me friends all call me Fin, unlessin ye be me ma, in vich case ye vould call me Glory.” She tossed her braid back over her shoulder with the flip of her head as she looked over the handsome stranger, offering him the mug of orange blossom ale.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 14, 2010 17:31:44 GMT -5
"Aye lass Ah will an thank yee fur it!"
The highlander said as he gratefully received the proffered mug.
"Tha' is a rare fine long name tha' is, Fin is lovely bu' Ah think Ah have to agree with yoor Mather on this one, You certainly are a Glory tew behold!"
And with that he lifted the mug of frosty ale to his lips and poured half the mug down his throat. As he brought it down his eyes where shut and the froth from the head of the drink clung to his mustaches. He tilted his head back and let a long sigh of refreshment and pleasure escape from beneath the foamy mustache.
"Ohh Lass", he said almost sensually, " Yoor nectar would rival the gods it would and I would be persuaded to sell ya me very soul fur another taste of your fine drought bu' Ah fear Ah meh haf tew keep me wits abou' me if Ah mus haf dealins with th' like o one as lovely as yerself! Ah dunna know if yew would take advantage o me if Ah were to be in me cupps!" he said with a mock innocence and a quick twinkle in his eye.
Then he gave her back the mug but held on to it for a moment before letting go completely.
"Mah name is Angus, Angus Mac Heath bu' most everyone calls meh Heathbruin sum even call meh Heath once theh get tew know meh. I sure wish yew would....ah call meh Heath that is."
He said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 25, 2010 14:18:33 GMT -5
Fin took the mug and rinsed it out with a bit of warm water from a bucket hanging off the side of her wagon and hung the mug back up on it’s hook. “Vell then I guess I shall be callin ye Heath, for I zurely cannae’ call ye ‘Mum’.” She laughed. “An’ I thank ye fer the compliments!”
She turned back to her wagon and brought out a small casket that was about a foot wide and a bit less deep. She sat it on her workbench and unlocked it. “Now, iz der a zertain type of rare bauble ye be lookin fer?” She asked Heath. “or vould ye jes’ like to zee vhat I have in ze box ‘ere?”
She opened the box and pulled out two trays and set them before the Highlander. These were her highest priced items which she normally only pulled out for the higher ranking nobility, unless asked. It was hard to say if Heath was nobility, given how the Scotti nobility looked much the same as their common folk to her untrained eye. However, since he had asked to see her rare items, she would show him. If he didn’t have the coin to purchase anything, he may possibly be able to pass along what he had seen to someone who would be interested. If he was just casing her shop, in the hopes of coming back later to steal something… well, he would be in for a nasty surprise and she for some good entertainment.
The trays held some precious gemstones as well as some semi precious stones. Some were loose, cut and polished and ready to be set into whatever form of jewelry the buyer preferred, but others were already set into pendants, earrings, rings and pins. There were a few small diamonds, several rubies and sapphires and a great deal of jade and amber. One large chunk of amber almost as big as Fin’s fist was in a teardrop shape and deep inside the amber was embedded a small lunar moth, its wings spread wide. It was set onto a filigree topper made of sterling silver that sported a moth design worked into the filigree pattern. This was attached at the narrow end of the teardrop shape and running through a loop at the top was a silver chain. Along the chain she had sewn in tiny pieces of amber alternating with cut and polished pieces of black obsidian.
It was one of her finest pieces of jewelry and she had spent hours laying the silver filigree and cutting the stones. She picked it up by the clasp and held it up to Heath’s chest, looking at it critically. “Hmm, yes, zis vould zuit ye very well, I am thinkin’.” The color of the amber enhanced the golden locks of his hair. “Although, one of zees zaphires ‘ere vould bring out ze beautiful color in yer eyes.” She smiled and held up a sapphire pendant which matched his eye color beautifully.
She then put them both on the table so he could look at them and let him peruse the other items in the box. “Do ye zee anyzing ye like, Heath?” she asked him, calling him by his name for the first time. She liked his name, and he seemed to be quite an amiable fellow. She suspected he was used to getting his way with women too. She found herself hoping that they would have a chance to get to know each other better. He was quite interesting.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 25, 2010 16:38:09 GMT -5
" Och Fin m'Lovely tha' amber peice is absolutleh stunnin it tis!" I almost feel sorreh fer the wee bug inside save fer th' fact that he may hang about yer neck!...Ah dew like th' saphire tho." he looked carefully at both of them. finally he said,
"Dew y' think you could make me somethin tha' had a bear on it with some amber and green stones? most likeleh in Bronze? Nothin tew dew with the pricin bu' it's the colors of m' clan, ya see?"
He gave her a dazzling smile and looked deeply into her eyes. then in almost a whisper, spoken very close to her face, in an almost confidential tone,
"Ah would very much love to have somethin o' yours 'round my neck lass...will this dew to help yew get started?"
He reached up slowly to her ear and and with a look of mock wonderment he pulled a gold crown out of her ear with the old children's trick.
"Well it works on the wee bairns in m'village cause theh dunna know the trick of gettin it behind your ear is harder than the makin of the coin!" heh heh! Well what say ye? Ah can check back once in a while tew see how yeur commin, tha' ll give us a chance tew talk some."
Again that big smile and the deep eyes flashed across at Finn.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 5, 2010 15:18:39 GMT -5
"Dew y' think you could make me somethin tha' had a bear on it with some amber and green stones? most likeleh in Bronze? Nothin tew dew with the pricin bu' it's the colors of m' clan, ya see?"
Fin chuckled slightly at the old coin trick. This one was sure a character, she thought. “Aye bear, hmmm?” She rummaged around in some baskets for a moment, “An some amber n green?” She pulled out three small baskets full of raw stones. “Ah ‘ave some raw copper ‘ere tha’ is green, but vill get shiny copper color if’n Ah ‘eat it up a bit. Then der is de malachite. Pretty green dose be, vith a bit-o-blue to match yer eyes. Or, if’n ye want de more expensive stuff, Ah got a vee bit o’ jade ‘ere.” She pointed out about 20 light green stones that were nearly see-through.
“Vich von do ye like?” She asked him. “An ze price depends on ze stones ye select.” She smiled back at him. “An ye can come by an chat any time. It vill take me a vile ta make ze bear out o' bronze."
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Post by Ringulf on Aug 5, 2010 15:35:48 GMT -5
"Well all 'o them are luvleh am sure bu' ah was kinda thinkin more along th' lines o' th' amber with somethin a wee bi' deeper green, now I know fur a fact tha' a Scandian Knarr came into port this mornin an if I dunna miss my guess yew can most likleh get sum amber from them they are always tradin in that stuff. Perhaps just some of the pretty dark green beads would work with those, dya think?" Heath seemed to amble on about the project.
"Well Ah have th' next watch at the castle so Ah 'ave tew be runnin off to get ready, bu' Ah will be back tomorrow tew see 'ow yew made out! Till then Milady..." and he gave a deep courtly bow and gave a chuckle and sauntered off.
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Post by Brandwyn on Sept 23, 2010 12:04:43 GMT -5
Fin looked up from her jewels at him when he mentioned the Skandian Knarr and a glint of excitement showed on her face. “I vill hav te go talk wid de Captain den and I thank ye for ze info. I am zure I can come up wid someding ta satisfy ye, Heath!” She winked at him and grinned.
She watched him saunter off and admired the way he moved. ‘He is one handsome Devil.’ She thought as he strode out of sight. ‘Quite the character too, but I think I like him.’ She smiled to herself and sat down in her chair, her eyes automatically scanning her booth to make sure everything was intact. She had learned over the years to be ever vigilant against theft. Thieves always took advantage of any distraction and Fin had certainly been distracted by the attractive Scotti.
She pulled out her wax tablet and stick and began making sketches in the wax, drawing bears in different poses and studying them. For nearly an hour she puzzled over the tablet, interrupted occasionally by a customer as she tried to work out a couple of bear designs to cast. She wanted to be sure of the design before she cast it in bronze because she had very little of the raw material and it was a trickier metal to work with. It was much softer than steel and it took less heat, so the flames had to be regulated constantly to get the bronze at the right temperature so it would pour into the clay mold correctly without being so hot that it completely destroyed the mold.
She pondered this for a bit and decided that perhaps making the mold out of soapstone would be better. She could get many castings from it, unlike a clay or resin mold. Then she changed her mind again, realizing that she wanted to make him a one-of-a-kind item. If she used the “lost wax” method, she could get a very intricate casting, but the mold would only be good for two or at most three castings. After that it broke down too much from the heat of the molten metal.
Her mind made up, she studied her sketches for a moment more and then pulled out a block of beeswax and cut off a 3 inch square piece of the wax. She lay out an array of small, blunt and sharp carving tools that she had crafted herself and set about sculpting the piece of wax into a bear.
As she worked, she wondered about the Skandian ship Heath had mentioned. She had not heard that one was scheduled to arrive and Skandian ships making port in Araluen were quite uncommon, even with the treaty between the two countries. Normally the Skandians were met with fear, though not as strong as it once was, it was still there, both fear and suspicion.
Two hours later she had three wax carvings completed, with intricate details on each. One was of a bear’s head, his mouth open, showing his teeth. Not very original she thought to herself, not exactly pleased with the outcome. The other was a bear in attack mode, reaching out in front of it with one paw as if to strike someone. She had carved in its claws, nose and eyes and even details of the hair. She really liked this carving, but was thinking that when cast in bronze it was going to be very heavy around the neck. The third carving was more two dimensional than three and was of a front view of a bear with its head down between its front legs. It was very stylized, looking more like a drawing of bear, than a real bear. At first glance it appeared to be a circle, but upon closer inspection, one could make out the bear features. She had carved it on a roundel decorated with knotwork in the background so the smooth features of the bear would stand out against the busier background. It was more of a medallion than a sculpture and of the three, she liked this one the best. It had more of her style of carving in it than the other two that looked more realistic. She wondered if Heath would favor it as well.
Looking up she noticed it was getting to be very late afternoon and she wanted to do some other business, having made a significant profit in the market square this day she could afford to close early. So she closed up her shop to go down to the wharf to locate the Skandian ship. It was easy to spot among all the Araluen ships, even if not for the fact most people gave the Skandians a wide berth.
As she approached she wondered if there could possibly be a letter on board from her family. She carried one in her satchel for her mother and father, in the hopes the ship could get the letter back to Skandia. Her father could not read, though he knew his numbers well, but her mother had taught Fin how to read at an early age. Since the Skandians had no mail system and very little use for the written word, it would be questionable as to whether her mother even received the letter from Fin. It was worth a try, though, if Fin could get word to her parents that she was fine and doing well. It had been at least two years since she’d had any word of them.
She studied the ship for a moment, making note of its occupants, before she approached it and hailed it, “Ahoy der, I vish ta speak wid ze Captain!” She called out to one of the deck hands, a young lad she estimated to be around 16 or so. She could smell horses and wondered if they had been transporting horses in the knarr, and if so, why. Skandians were not known for their riding abilities. She raised her hand over her eyes to block out the glare of the lowering sun as it dipped down toward the horizon and waited for a response.
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Post by Brandwyn on Sept 27, 2010 11:15:36 GMT -5
Bunt sat unmoving in the shadow of a dormer window on the roof of his favorite ale house and bed and breakfast overlooking the market square of Caraway. Yesterday he had seen a large Skandian woman pull up into the space the leather merchant had vacated the week before. Distrusting both Skandians and women, Bunt had made it a point to keep an eye on her. So here he was, up before dawn as was his usual way and already ensconced on the roof before anyone had even seen him climb up there.
He shivered as a strong breeze blew off the ocean, carrying a damp, cool air under the folds of his heavy ranger cloak. He pulled the mottled brown and green cloak tighter around him and hunkered his small frame into an even tighter ball, not worrying much that someone would happen to see the slight movement.
As he waited for the woman to wake and set up her wagon, he watched everything around him, making note of everyone who stirred in the square. The regular locals he was beginning to recognize and learn their names after only being in the fief for two weeks. The merchants here were much the same as in any fief seat he had seen in his 40 some years as a ranger. The only oddity was a Skandian merchant – made all the more strange that she was a female and there did not appear to be any male Skandians with her. Bunt wasn’t sure what to make of that. Perhaps she was a spy and there was a large raiding party headed this way. Oh yes, he knew all about the treaty, but he also knew from years of experience that treaties could be broken by one side or the other without any warning. As a ranger, it was his job to be prepared and to be on the lookout so he could give a warning should it happen.
He watched the woman with interest, but with no movement other than his eyes, as the morning wore on. There was nothing out of the ordinary she was doing so far as he could tell. She ‘appeared’ to genuinely be a merchant. Appearances were often superficial. Bunt perked up a bit when he saw the street kid enter the square and the focus of his attention stayed with the kid, though he did not loose track of anything else anyone was doing in the square.
Ever since he was kicked in the head as a child by the family plow horse, Bunt had this uncanny ability to notice and remember details. Even the tiniest of details did not escape his notice and he was able to recall them years afterward. He remembered the smell of his father’s work gloves and could draw them complete with stains and holes in their final state before his father threw that pair out when he was 12. He remembered every place he had ever been to, where each rock was located, the shape of every bush, the type of flora and fauna lurking nearby from his first fief all the way to this current one. At age 55 his memory was sharper now than it ever had been.
He noted now that the Skandian woman had also made note of the boy but was pretending she had not seen him. Interesting. Bunt watched as the boy made note of the ‘new arrival’ and targeted her shop. He could intervene, but being new to the fief, he wanted to see how things operated before he stepped in and involved himself. Right now no one much knew who he was, if they had even seen him, other than the Baron and a few select individuals in the castle. He had told them to keep it quiet that the fief had a new ranger until he made his presence known. Anyway, he knew he could deal with the minor disturbances street urchins caused but he preferred to let the local authorities or the merchants themselves work out such issues. He only stepped in if the punishment was not befitting the crime or for extenuating circumstances. Generally he felt sorry for the street kids and often ‘absentmindedly’ dropped copper pieces or food around in places for them to find.
Bunt watched as the kid slid in slick as butter and snatched a piece of jewelry off the woman’s display table and nonchalantly started to saunter off. Lightening quick, the Skandian had grabbed a bullwhip and flicked her wrist and Bunt tensed his muscles to move to the kid’s aide. He had not expected that and he frowned at the woman. Instead of the whip cracking the kid on the back however, it was expertly deployed to wrap around his ankle and she reeled him in like a large fish on a line, planting her foot firmly, but not too hard on the kid’s back.
Bunt relaxed his tensed muscles as he realized she was not going to hurt the kid. She retrieved her merchandise from him, slipped him a coin and sent him on his way with a warning. Bunt had to admit he was impressed. That was probably just about what he would have done, though he would have put the fear of God in the lad first, or perhaps the fear of the Ranger Corps, to be more accurate. Still, the kid appeared to be rather shaken by the experience and ran off to be consoled by his comrades lurking just out of sight behind the dressmaker’s shop. They all ran off and Bunt made a mental note on the direction, figuring he would keep an eye on them in the future, but the Skandian interested him far more at this time. She seemed to be a contradiction and he didn’t like little mysteries like that.
He was prepared to settle in for a dull day, when the woman was approached by a Scotti warrior, another one he had been keeping an eye on for the last couple of days. The young man seemed to be in the employ of the Baron, but Bunt, ever vigilant, did not let that deter him from speculating as to why the Scotti might really be in Caraway. Now here he was showing up to speak with a Skandian that had just arrived. Bunt’s suspicions reached new heights as he strained to hear their conversation. He was forced to settle on reading their lips.
Bunt was able to get the gist of their conversation and there was no hint of anything other than a normal business transaction mingled with a lot of flirting between the two. It was obvious to him there was a physical attraction, and it could very well be that it was that attraction alone that led the Scotti to her booth. Bunt muttered under his breath as he often did, “Young whippersnappers, always a-courting and it always ends in disappointment.” He shook his head, wishing he could talk some sense into them, but he knew better than to even try. They were young. They would find out all about the pain of love.
The next couple of hours were quite dull, as far as watching the Skandian merchant. She seemed to be working on a commission and he watched her do several sketches and then pick up a chunk of wax and in a surprisingly short time she had fashioned a very nice looking bear from the wax. “Hummppfffhh. The girl is talented it seems.” He muttered, with a grudging respect. He had always admired craftsmen and their ability to create wonderful items, wishing he had some of that talent himself.
Finally she closed up her shop, an hour or so earlier than most merchants closed, and headed out of the square. Bunt followed on the rooftops for a short distance until he determined that she really was making for the waterfront where all the ships were docked. He squinted at the ships in the harbor and thought he saw a Skandian Knarr sidled up to one of the piers. The ship had not been in port earlier that day. Bunt’s eyes narrowed in suspicion again, as he made his way down to the streets and continued his surveillance of the Skandian merchant.
She led him straight down to the wharf and right up to the Skandian ship where she studied it for a moment, taking in the name and watching the crew for just a bit before she hailed the ship. Bunt was hiding in a shadow, watching her and hoping that she would have that conversation with the Knarr’s captain out on the pier where he could be privy to it. Otherwise he would have to sneak on board the Skandian ship and he remembered the last time he had attempted that. It had not gone so well and he had spent a good three weeks as a slave before he had an opportunity to escape. He still harbored some resentment on that score.
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Post by Ringulf on Sept 28, 2010 22:10:37 GMT -5
Finn studied the ship for a moment, making note of its occupants, before she approached it and hailed it, “Ahoy der, I vish ta speak wid ze Captain!” She called out to one of the deck hands, a young lad she estimated to be around 16 or so. She could smell horses and wondered if they had been transporting horses in the knarr, and if so, why. Skandians were not known for their riding abilities. She raised her hand over her eyes to block out the glare of the lowering sun as it dipped down toward the horizon and waited for a response.
"The young man looked over at the tall powerful looking woman, he immediately felt a quick flush in his face when he looked at her she was very striking but beyond that...She was Skandian! he herd the accent and recognized it immediately as being from a bit farther south in his homeland.
"Skoal! You are from Skandia to I tink vere do you hail from? sounts like de sout no?"
Ari put down the bale of hay he was throwing up on to the quay and moved to the side of the boat that Finn was standing on.
"You just missed de captain he vent up to de inn to see if he could fint de fife's ranger, ve need also to fint a doctor for some of our passengers, do you know of any? Oh I am sorry I did not introduce myself I am Aribjorn, vat do dey call you?"
He stretched out his hand and shook her hand firmly. He was not surprised at her iron grip from the looks of her physique but it was pleasant to exchange greetings with such a strong, attractive female. For a moment he almost grinned as in his minds eye he pictured her in a winged helmet like one of the Valkyries come to earth.
"I have to get dis hay up to de byre that de dockmaster had us set up in dat little feild just over dere. De horses don't vant to be on dat boat anoder minute I tink dey have been on it for weeks and want to feel grass under der hoofs for sure!"
Ari had his shirt off and just his boots and breeches with a pair of gloves and a leather headband, the hay was sticking to his torso in places stuck to the perspiration of his labors.
"After dees last few I tink I am going to jump in de vater to get all dis off me it is starting to itch terrible!" He chuckled gleefully.
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Post by Brandwyn on Sept 28, 2010 23:23:23 GMT -5
"Skoal! You are from Skandia to I tink vere do you hail from? sounts like de sout no?"
Finn smiled at the young man as he tossed out a hay bale – more evidence of horses and she watched it land with interest. Finn had always liked horses and treated her own like royalty. “Yah. I am from Bruinheim, a small village ta de Souteast near de Teutdlandt border. It is good ta see some fellow Skandians. I ha’e been in Araluen fer aye years now an/ I miss me homelandt.”
"You just missed de captain he vent up to de inn to see if he could fint de fife's ranger, ve need also to fint a doctor for some of our passengers, do you know of any? Oh I am sorry I did not introduce myself I am Aribjorn, vat do dey call you?" Finn’s smile dimmed at his first words because she had really wanted to see if they had any stones or beads for sale, particularly amber and malachite. Then her look turned to one of genuine concern as he mentioned needing to find the local ranger and a doctor. She had been in Araluen long enough to know that it was likely they had run into some kind of trouble.
“Vell dey call me Finn most of de time, but me mah calls me Glory because me full name is Glorfindel Theronsdottir. Ye can call me Finn if’n ye like” Finn made a note of the strength of his handshake and wasn’t surprised. Even at his young age, he was likely an accomplished fighter. Skandian boys grew up with an axe in their hand. “It sounts as dough ye ran intah some trouble. I tink der is a doctor in a shop in de market Square, dough I ha’e not seen him all day.” Finn had no idea who or how many needed a doctor or what their particular maladies were, so she hesitated to consider the possible ramifications before she made up her mind and offered to help.
“I ha’e some small skill wid de herbs an’ patchin’ fighters up. Perhaps I can be of some help. Wha’ is wrong wid de injured?”
"I have to get dis hay up to de byre that de dockmaster had us set up in dat little feild just over dere. De horses don't vant to be on dat boat anoder minute I tink dey have been on it for weeks and want to feel grass under der hoofs for sure!"
“I knew I smelt de horses!” Finn exclaimed with a laugh. “I bet dey don’t. Are dey from our homelandt? Vhy, by de Shieldmaidens, did ya bring horses all de vay here?” Finn had done some research to locate a nice farm just outside the city where she was keeping her draft horses that pulled her wagon. They seemed to be getting excellent care and it was far cheaper than the local stable. “I can show ye some good pastures fer da horses dat is reasonable priced ant close by if ya are lookin’ fer a place ta keep dem.”
She was admiring the youth’s physique as they talked and wishing she was just a few years younger. He was quite a handsome young man and just the sight of a Skandian male after so many months was starting to affect her, but he was much too young for her.
Finn laughed when he told her he was considering jumping in the water to rinse off. “Ah vell, don’ let me stop ye.” She didn’t add that she was finding him quite entertaining as it was. “As ta de ranger here, vell he lives on de edge of town at de tree line. I tink he is just fillin’ in until de new ranger gets here. I ha’e not been here dat long, but I have seen de ranger strollin down here near de docks on two occasions. If ye get lucky he may jes turn up.” Finn winked.
“I am ah Smitty an’ I can take a look at dose horses feet. Perhaps ve can do an exchange fer my Smitty skill for some amber. I am also lookin’ fer some dark green stone.” She suggested, figuring he would not be able to negotiate and she would have to wait for the Captain to return. She might as well use the time to see if she could help out those that needed a doctor.
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Post by Tandar on Sept 29, 2010 14:08:27 GMT -5
A lone Ranger sat atop his horse, riding slowly through the streets of Caraway. He wore tall, black riding boots with matching gloves and clothing made of fine material that typically marked one as nobility. The cowl of his Ranger cloak was pulled over his head, but his bright green eyes--almost catlike in nature--could be seen through the shadow cast by the hood. Though the city was busy with people going about their business, none came within ten feet of the Ranger. The clusters of shoppers in the market square parted to allow the rider passage. It was almost as if the fear and mistrust of Rangers had created an invisible barrier around him, preventing anyone from getting close.
When he arrived at the quay, he dismounted and walked the length of the pier to the Skandian ship. His Ranger horse, Ruldor, faithfully waited on land. Once he was on foot, it was clear to any observer that he was actually kind of short despite the fact that he appeared quite imposing while mounted. An observer might have also noticed that the Ranger was covered up well. The only part of his skin that could be seen was his face.
Nodding almost imperceptibly to Glorfindel, he came to a halt beside the Knarr Hamarr. “I’m here to see Tory Waterton,” he called up to the deck. “My name is Tandar Polaris; I’m the Ranger of Meric.”
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Post by Ringulf on Sept 29, 2010 19:34:32 GMT -5
Nodding almost imperceptibly to Glorfindel, he came to a halt beside the Knarr Hamarr. “I’m here to see Tory Waterton,” he called up to the deck. “My name is Tandar Polaris; I’m the Ranger of Meric.”
"Vell dis is a Skandian ship ant ve haff more rangers den Skandians I tink!" chuckled Aribjorn as he looked up at the ranger standing next to Finn, She made him look a bit less impressive than if he had been standing alone, but he was a very dashing figure none the less and Ari though good natured tried not to be overly informal.
"Ranger Polaris, velcome to de Harr Marr I tink Tory is sleeping at de moment as she is recovering from wounds she recieved on de vay here. I know Mylia is also a ranger's apprentice to Ranger Ringulf who is also badly injured, Mylia is for de most part ok would you like me to get her for you?" Ari was trying to be respectful but he also felt a bit protective of the girls and was not about to just turn them over to this mysterious ranger with out so much as a question or two. "Merrick? is dat close to here?" he asked casually trying to get the man to talk a bit.
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Post by Brandwyn on Sept 29, 2010 21:30:41 GMT -5
Tory woke suddenly from some noise. It took her a moment to realize where she was. The events earlier that day came back in a rush and she looked around the makeshift hospital room on the Knarr Harrmar. The door was open and she could see Aribjorn on the deck. Mylia was dozing on the stool next to her.
Ari had taken off his shirt and Tory could see his muscles rippling in the setting sun. She watched him with interest as she stroked the kitten curled up on her chest. She hadn’t had much chance to take stock of her current situation or really study the Skandian youth before, so she was glad Mylia was still asleep. She found him incredibly handsome and was very embarrassed when she remembered how she had been chattering on like an idiot around him. She wondered what he thought of her. ‘Probably thinks I am a little girl and pretty ugly with all these scars.’ She sighed sadly. It was her experience that people didn’t like her, especially the closer in age they were to her. Aribjorn would probably not be an exception. ‘Still, he did give me a kitten.’ She looked at the cute bundle of fluff and smiled. Then her smile faded as she saw Mylia’s kitten asleep in her lap. ‘Of course he gave her one too, so he was probably just being nice.’
Her reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice and she nearly jumped up and ran to the rail of the ship to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“My name is Tandar Polaris; I’m the Ranger of Meric.”
The voice, though it belonged to a ranger she liked well enough and respected, sent a stab of anxiety into her stomach. It wasn’t the ranger, or the fact he was looking for her. It was the last word he said that sent the stab of fear into her.
Meric. Her home before she coerced Patrick into taking her on as an apprentice. Well, more like he masterfully engineered a test of her skills that made her think she was forcing him to take her. Tory took a deep breath and tried to dispel the image of Korrin, her mistress’s chatelaine, out of her head. His face always invaded her consciousness whenever anyone mentioned Meric or asked her about her home. The things he did to her were very hard to forget, especially when she was faced with all the whip scars he inflicted every day at her Ladyship’s instruction.
For a brief moment, Tory considered running and jumping over to another docked boat or something, but then she remembered her wound and knew she would never make it. She wondered what he wanted from her and why he was still in Caraway if he was assigned to Meric. Try as she might, she couldn’t find any reason he might be looking for her by name. Unless….
The thought turned her stomach in knots. What if he was her new mentor? If so, that meant she was going to have to go back to Meric. Back to the castle where she would run into the Lady Coltrane and her Chatelaine Korrin. What if he tried to take liberties with her again? She was suddenly plunged back in time to a bit over a year ago to the last time Korrin had entered her room in the middle of the night. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to dispel the image and the remembrance of smells of him as he had his way with her. “No! No! No!” She exclaimed rather loudly. “He won’t be doing that to me again. Not ever.” She said with conviction, a look of determination mingled with fear on her face.
Maybe he was passing through with orders for her and she would be going to Caraway’s new ranger. She held onto that hope as she strained to hear what was being said outside.
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