The horses eyes rolled alarmingly when Caith took up her position but to be fair she'd been through a fair bit in the last twenty minutes or so and a weird pair of hands on her teats was the least of it.

The foal wobbled over and propped its head on Caiths shoulder as she went to work.

Gat padded up the slope and began making large circles between Caith and Leofwyn and Deise and Turren....

When the men are gone and everyone is nearer, Turren looks carefully around. Without letting his voice stray from the path:

'What may have happened had we been fewer, pilgrims or an innocent family on the road to serve the new king? Those men are robber knights at best.They plainly suggested what they'd do were we less formidable, and that only one was searching for a stolen weapon. The rest admitted they'd take what they wish. My conscience tells me they aught not to be left roaming these parts if there is to be real change. Deise's clever words have gained us the initiative. What say you all?'



GM Edit:

As the others are 50-ish metres away it'd be a hefty shout, so I'll rule that only Deise has heard this for now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:31, Sun 08 Dec 2019.

With the horses docile enough that Usopi did not feel worried to leave them unwatched, he turned away and moved toward Turren, Deise, and the stranger knights.

”Hail friends, glad to see the appearance of an attack earlier was simply a misunderstanding. It always makes me sorrowful to encounter lowly bandits. To have the strength of will to face danger and to use it for petty self interest.” the large knight shook his head, but then smiled broadly, ”It is good to know that there are men of solid moral fiber on the roads of Ereworn.”

In reply to Sir Turren Uvedale (msg # 88):

"Your motivation does you proud Sir Turren. It is heartening to know that some think only of the welfare of others. Those men are desparate men, but not evil. No I think they are not evil. I know what its like to be desperate, but I have also known evil. Our mission now is to search for evil and falsehood in Glissom. We might meet many misguided souls along the way, I ask your wisdom, do we Shepard them  all? I dont know, brother, I dont know."

Once the knights and their men had retreated into the woods and moved away the group came together back at the roadside and Sirs Turren and Usopi repeated their observations.

Caith finds herself humming along with Leofwyn as she gets to grips with the task at hand, and guides a squirt of milk to Dant's mouth over her shoulder, like a barn cat's breakfast.

She listens to the conversation regarding the troop down the road as she milks, keeping her rapidly rising temper in check lest she frighten the horses.

"Gladly would I chase them down, aye, and with great pleasure in the hunting, but we have a task to do and this is nay it..." she offers then smiles as she says to Deise "...But if ye wish to warn others who watch over Ereworn? That I can do."

Her expression is wry as she concludes "If nothing else, they should know my handwriting by now, and that's better than any signature or official seal."

OOC: All that humming has given me an idea, and bees are said to be the messengers of the gods in Glissom's lore.

In reply to Caith Cernach (msg # 92):

'A warning would put my mind well at ease,' Turren nods. 'And perhaps tonight we should consider a few extra precautions in case they double round. That Sir Romet, or Robin or whatever it was. Knaves all.'
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:21, Sun 08 Dec 2019.

After a few days travelling west they began to pass through some small flocks of sheep on the roadside being watched over by young boys, as they crested a rise they saw down to the coast a small collection of buildings around a coastal hill atop of which stood a square manorhouse surrounded by an earthwork ditch and mound.

Coming through the gates of the town they could see the buildings were all reinforced with boards over windows and sharpened poles about the eaves but the people...almost all under 20...had their doors open and were chatting freely and in a friendly manner in the streets.

A small market offered cheeses, preserved meats, leather goods and some vegetables as they moved past.  People greeted them and called out to some of the Gliss folk by name. As they approached the manor house, through the earthworks, two men in simple but clean tunics and hose under shining but older styled hauberks stepped out to block the way.

The men were older than most of the folk they had seen and they're faces bore traces of pox and other scars, one was missing fingers on his right hand.

" Oh! Its you lot. Up you go."

As they came to the manor, old scars marked the outside of the building and they saw marks where boards and cladding had recently been pulled away from the windows and doors and the exterior was limed and plastered.

At the wide open door of the manor stood an incredibly tall lanky man covered head to toe in a voluminous roughspun brown robe over a suit of black stained plate and an old fashioned bucket helm revealing only his eyes. The figure regarded them as they approached...

Two young lads ran up to the group and offered to take the two horses to stable....where the groups ox was contentedly chewing its cud along side Chlainns horse.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:49, Wed 11 Dec 2019.

"It is wise to be wary, and wise to deal with a threat before it grows bolder, but we can nay be everywhere at once now, can we?" Caith says gently to the ferocious knight "Let others know where there be trouble in the woods, and they will ken sure enough what's to be done with those horse stabbing vermin."

That said, Caith makes sure to feed the horses, carefully slipping a loose rope halter over Dant's head as they finally feed from their mother, with no harm done to either horse in the process. "Thank ye." she says softly to both equines.

The hedgewitch looks to Leofwyn as she adds in grateful tone "There is a great power in first milk, to help both mother and foal after birthing. Ye have a similar kind of power in your hands, if that apple is anything to go by. I thank ye for using well the gift the gods have given ye."

She also takes the time in travel to closely question all of the party on their observations of the bandit knights and their archers, Deise most of all, for his sharp eyes and quick wit. During a break in travel to eat, she writes a short but carefully detailed report on a piece of paper folded small and wrapped in a scrap of thin leather sewn shut.

-------

Caith explains politely that evening when the party stops to camp "I need summon a small winged messenger to take word to the castle. Please nay harm them, as 'tis King Corbin's business I will be asking them to attend to."

From her belt pouches she produces a fine black feather, it's glossy darkness gleaming in the firelight, and spends a little while staring into the sky as she chants softly under her breath, holding the crow feather aloft in her left hand, a tiny package tied to it with strong woolen thread.

A large pair of wings can be head beating the air above the camp, then a dark shape against the stars can be seen, coming closer and closer. A particularly large crow, sleek of plumage and sharp of eye and beak drops down to Caith's outstretched hand and deftly plucks the feather from it with their claws before landing on her shoulder.

"Ye all right there, love?" the crow inquires in surprisingly human sounding speech, in a soft lilting Cornumbrian accent.

"Aye, and I hope ye are too, sir." Caith replies politely.

She offer a generous piece of ewe's milk cheese to the crow to peck at as she explains in a whisper to them who they need to take the message to, and where they may be found in simple but unmistakable terms...

--------

Over the next few days of travel, Caith offers a little lore regarding Hallowhall and it's inhabitants, frequently asking Brannon, Alphail, Usopi for any details she's forgotten.

"Not a big place, maybe two hundred folk within it's bounds, but recovering well from the old Duke's reign. Fine sheep, and they grow good barley, greens and any number of turnips."

"Piers the tanner there make an excellent bit of leather, the many sheep provide a wool that spins well and holds shape as thread with little work, and I found the ewe's cheese from the local market to be most tasty in flavor. Fair price for mutton, and fish too, when in season."

"Blacksmith Elen is said to have a bit of temper on her, but does a fine bit a work too, be it ploughshare or sword blade. Certainly knows her trade if ye ask me, though I be nay a metal smith myself."

"New lord in Hallowhall under King Corbin is a brave young woodcutter originally by trade, now Sir Garth, and his rapidly quickening with their first child wife and childhood sweetheart is the lovely Lady Clothilda. They are nay of noble birth, as I has said, but have a true tale of adventure as comrades in arms of Corbin afore he was King, and in being rescued from the clutches of evil behind their rise to nobility."

"Sir Garth's man at arms from the castle from the days afore Darian met his doom is a wee bit odd, tall and lanky, always in a suit of dark armour complete with helm, and a homespun brown robe over it. Nay says much, does Marn, but they are said to be a tenacious warrior, loyal even in the direst circumstance, and I would readily believe that to be so."

_{EDITED by Player for a couple of tour guide details I'd forgotten and Tucking Fypos.}
This message was last edited by the player at 00:55, Thu 12 Dec 2019.

Sir Turren thanks Caith for the information. When the boys offer to take the horses, he lets the women give the 'yay or nay', but he's sure to give the lads a florin each regardless.

'Do some good with those,' he tells them.

Leofwyn is happy to let the boys take the horses to a stable. Hopefully, with four walls around them, they may calm down enough to actually rest. "Please be gentle and slow with these two. They have had a worse few days than most."

Leofwyn then lets the 'speakers' of the group respond to the figure, keeping an eye out for where the boys are leading the horses.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:06, Tue 10 Dec 2019.

Marn scanned the group for a full minute before nodding and silently pointing the way inside.

Gat whined, his nose already picking up the scent of former playmates..

"Well, met, Marn." Brannon nods to the tall figure. "It is good to be here again."

He accepts the invitation, and steps through the doorway.

Usopi was pleased at the outcome with the other traveling warriors they had met, heartened to learn that other good minded folk traveled the roads. The horses he left to Caith and Leofwyn. Though he made himself available should the animals need anything urgently, he kept himself away from the care of the creatures. He trusted that the duo of women gifted in the arcane knew better than he how to care for the strange foal.

-------

At Caith's summoning of the crows, Usopi worried little, observing keenly but not much perturbed by it. He had witnessed her summoning of bees, and gnomes, and digger dwarfs, and now it surprised him little that a crow capable of human speech might arrive at her beck and call.

-------

Upon being greeted by the two older guardsmen Usopi extended a hand, "Greeting friends, Toby, I hope your employment has been dull and soft since last we met." he said with a warm smile as he grasped the men's arms in greeting.

When they reached Marn, Usopi waited patiently for the fellow to look them over, and as he passed he extended a hand also to the lanky knight, "I have not heard from your people since last we met, but I assure you that I will keep you updated as swiftly as I am."

At Gat's whining Usopi chuckled and reached down to rub Gat's side, "You may go and play." he told his hound as he laughed and patted the hound on the rump, ushering him toward the doors to Lord Garth's hall.

Sir Turren nods politely as he steps across the threshold.

As Gat ran ahead into the hall there was a sudden clattering of many claws on wood and a cacophany of barking rang out, a young man in his nightshirt stepped out from a side door holding a baby in one arm, those returning recognised him as Garth, " Oy! Quiet, You Mob!"

He looked confused for a second as he stared at the roiling tumble of wolfish canines in the somewhat ramshackle hall.

" Your not mine....you look like...", then he turned to the left and saw Usopi and the others entering.

" Oh! Hello there! Been a bit."

" Um....take a seat. I'll just get wee one down."

He called up the stairs, " Honey! We have guests."

He looked at Usopi again, " I'll go put some trousers on.", he said as he exited, closing the side door behind him.

A few seconds later Clothilda entered the hall walking slowly but in good cheer.


OOC:

Descriptions-

Sir Garth- solidly built early twenties, red faced, brown hair, callused hands.
Lady Clothilda- late teens, long blond hair, slightly pale and tired, but smiling.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:09, Thu 12 Dec 2019.

Caith gathers scraps of fleece caugh in the keeps a wary eye on Dant Hir, but as the foal is happily occupied with the contents of their nosebag, she greets one of the young shepherds with "Well met again, young sir! How fare ye and the ladies today?"

She draws closer and cheerfully adds "I regret that I can nay stop to chat long, but I've a few oatcakes left from breakfast if ye'd like a couple?" as she holds out a unknotted scrap of clean cloth in her hands, a fragrant aroma of baked oats, honey, dried apple and currants, and even a faint hint of rare spices issuing from it's folds.

True to her word, the hedgewitch does not linger to gossip.



Caith simply returns the friendly greetings with "Well met..." a name and a smile, passing out a few more oatcakes out on the way to the manor, heartened by the good mood of the common folk, and favorably inclined to think that all is well in Hallowhall.



"Thank ye." Caith says politely in passing.







Caith silently waves in greeting to Marn, untroubled by their imposing appearance now.

She smiles at both her comrades and the pair of stablelads, but looks to Brannon and says softly to him "I will be back in but a moment, Hearthwarden Darrow. I nay doubt young Alby's wisdom in horses, but Dant Tir is a most unusual horse. Only fair to let the lads know, lest they get off on the wrong foot with the young 'un, aye?"

The hedgewitch calmly offers both stablelads an oatcake, then quietly explains the flighty nature of the young filly as she accompanies them and the horses to the stable. She adds that she seeks the true owner of the mare found abandoned and left for dead by the roadside that is the dam of the filly, and believes them to be a local farmer some days to the south, but does not know which one.



Caith smiles to see them well cared for, even as a look of sorrow crosses her face at the reminder of a dead comrade left buried back at the moors.

She approaches Sir Chlainn's horse and offers an oatcake in her hand, flat palmed as she says quietly "Ye are nay a bee, my friend, and I nay be a knight, but someone should tell ye the news..."

Her voice drops to a sad whisper as she says "...Though it sorrows me to speak of it, ye should know that your comrade in battle, Sir Chlainn is nay more. He died bravely, fighting to the last, even though outnumbered, and defending a lad with more magic than mindfulness in him."

Caith reassure the bereaved equine "We'll look after ye for now though, nay fear, in his memory, and out of common decency."

She hurries back to the door that Marn guards after seeing to all the small herd of animals now in the party's care, and seeks admittance as she asks him "Might I join the rest of the pack inside, sir?"

Caith enters the hall just as Clothilda does, and greets her appearance with a warm smile, and a concerned query of "Well met, Lady Clothilda. How fare ye now?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:21, Thu 12 Dec 2019.

Sir Turren bows, but remains quiet, content to let the ladies reacquaint without immediate distraction.

He stands by the entrance for now, formal, having a care not to lean on anything except his own firm posture.

Clothilda grinned in return, " Oh, very good indeed....quite relieved."

She winked at Caith.

" Garth'll be out soon, he's good with her...I mean...treats her much the same he treats a pup..but that cannae do any harm."

" Some new faces here I see, and a couple missing....", she says carefully.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:07, Fri 13 Dec 2019.

Usopi smiled broadly as Garth recognized Gat and the rest of the party. He was gladdened to see the child, and then Clothilda still healthy after the birth. The people of Hallowhall deserved every ounce of goodness that came to them.

His smile waned a little at Lady Clothilda's observation, "We lost Chlainn to creatures in the moor, and Lann separated from us to take up another quest for King Corbin." he brightened again, "Though now we have been joined by Ser Turren Uedale and Lady Leofwyn, Deise, and Ser Uthen of Sadley."

He chuckled at a thought, "And what is the name of your new traveling companion? The existence of which deserves congratulations."

As Usopi was speaking, Sir Garth came back into the room now more suitably attired, " Ah! Yes, sorry about that."

He nodded to Sir Uthen and Turren, and waved to Deise, then bowed slightly to Leofwyn.

" Alysa, Sir Usopi.  She is named to honour a brave soul.", Garth said with a smile.

Sir Turren bowed.

Caith smiles wolfishly in relief, and replies "Glad to hear that, and I see nay harm in it either." genuinely pleased to see Lady Clothilda has survived with her good humor still intact.



Caith nods, and wisely falls silent and steps back to allow others to speak of them...





When Sir Garth speaks his daughters name, the expression of weary but proud parental joy in it makes any lingering doubt of Caith's swiftly leave, silently apologizing for the disturbance before shutting the door of her mind behind it.

Instead she smiles and produces a tiny sprig of pale but early blooming violet herb from the bitten ear of her wolfskin robe's hood, and offers it to Clothilda as she  pragmatically murmurs "Ye may find her green namesake useful as part of a salve for soothing the annoyance of skin rashes."

Garth looked saddened at the news of Chlainns death, but brightened again as he looked about at the new faces.

Clothilda thanked Caith.

" How long are ye staying?", ventured Garth.

" Also, Hungry?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:15, Sun 15 Dec 2019.