Sam had made his way here after the time spent in the village. He had hoped he had made it clear to the others but of course had to stick around until the discussion had finished.

He frowned when he saw his brother here, and not Hugh the supervisor.

"Nathan, what are you doing here? You weren't scheduled for today, were you?"


[[GM edit: took out an 'or'; sense.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:44, Sat 17 Sept 2022.

"Why, no, no horses lame that I know of, and I'd not work Sundays if I could help, for the proper reason...but where have you been? We thought you'd drop in with us after church and let Dad set eyes on you." Nate took off his three-cornered Sunday hat and gently pushed Sam in the chest with a flat side. This experiment seemed to satisfy him somewhat, the annoyance in his features easing to simple concern.

"Well there I've proved you're not a ghost, after Eli said ye was in the Wood yesterday, then not at the inn come the night and acting right queer and ghostie when Mary saw you hanging about on the green. Why didn't you talk to her?"

Sam felt a sudden drop, his look growing to one of great concern when he heard that his sister had seen him on the green. "I was never on the green. I would have been here sooner, but I had to stay after the service - Master Fox and Mister Bees had found that there had been doppelgangers of themselves after that, so we stayed after the service to get tokens to know that we were real. Whatever it is that Mary saw, it was NOT me." He fumbled around in his pockets, showing the token to his brother. "I need to get to Mary, but I need you to explain to Hugh what's going on."

Nate naturally looked pretty perplexed at this information. "I...well...you what, though?" he started, making little enough sense himself, and looked at the token stamped with the seal of the parish. The official nature of the thing seemed to convince him, though his brows remained deeply furrowed, out of his depth.

"Where's he at, then, and what should I tell him? He'll think I'm gone mad and you're off skiving, I tell him not even one of you is here but maybe there's two of you," he protested, looking to his older brother for help. "I mean...can it copy me, or just folks was in the Wood? Wait...wait."

Nate had suddenly gone very pale. "Does Thea know, about Master Fox?"

Sam nodded. "I... don't know how to explain it to you to tell him." He pulled out his token, breaking off a piece of it and handing it to his brother. "This part of the token I handed you means that you were speaking to the real me - not the doppelganger. I'll actually go talk to Hugh. I need you to get to Mary, because she is in danger. I... "

He paused as his brother grew pale.

"... I don't know if she does. I need you to get to Thea and tell her that she's in danger too. I'll meet with you as quickly as I can."


OOC: I'm assuming that part of the token can be broken off. If I'm wrong, I'll fix it.

Nate put his hat fairly far back on his head and wiggled it into place, taking the torn chunk of lead. He stared at it, abruptly thrown into things beyond his understanding, then up at Sam as his elder brother started off across the yard. "Wait, Sam, meet where? Mary'll be at- well, with Dad, but Thea will be back at the Hall by now. Shouldn't we take one each?"

Sam nodded at his brother, breaking off another piece of lead from the trinket.

"We'll meet at the Hall. I'll talk to Thea first, and then to Hugh. Let's just go, and quickly. Both are in danger."

Nat looked slightly puzzled at Sam's announcement that he'd cross the village and up to the estate to tell Thea before explaining to someone surely no more than fifty paces away, but just nodded, backed a pace, and took off like a rabbit for home.

[[Right. I shall get you a thread with the Doctor tonight, since you're in the same area.]]

---

~3:30pm Sunday May 5th, 1771

Sam had cut through the trees leaving the estate, reaching the main road and walking along it with his head all full of distraction. Somehow he was wary of going to his father's house now, wondering if he would be greeted with welcome or fear; he kept to the road instead, trusting the hard-packed surface and his fairly lengthy stride to bring him back to his workplace faster than any shortcutting.

The farm is quiet when he arrives there, much as he had left it, though the shadows have changed and the geese are foraging in the yard. His lack of a full meal today tugs the mess of his thoughts towards the good smells of the kitchen, though his conscience tugs him to try and find Hugh and whoever had been pulled in to take up his slack and explain himself.


[[If trying to work out where Hugh and/or other Sunday hands will be by reasoning it out, give me an INT roll.

No roll required if heading to get some grub/make enquiries with the house servants.]]

Sam knows he is wrong to skip work today, even though the situation had been out of his control - first receiving the token after the service, then the doppelganger situation and his worry for his family. As much as food would be nice right now, he knows that he needs to go speak with Hugh - to explain his absence, and to make up for his decisions today.

20:04, Today: Samuel Hartman rolled 10 using 1d100.  vs Int 75.

Sam stands for a while in the farmyard, thinking of what tasks were current and which of those were permissable on Sunday, the Lord's appointed day of rest. Not weeding or ditching, though their youngest workhorse might benefit from the training with horse hoe or scoop, and likely the inspecting of the sheep at pasture had been completed whilst he was away.

He thinks of where Carl had left off work last night - trying to keep his mind from drifting to subsequent events - and calculates the distance and how soon the worker might run out of the makings of a quickset hedge. If all the extentions had been out that far, then likely they'd be at the end of loading a cart with supplies to visit everywhere work was liable to be resumed at present or on the morrow, or just barely set off: close enough to be in view if he hurried. Sam starts into motion with determination.

---

The men prove to be still loading the last few bunches of hawthorn saplings under the dapples of the horse chestnut beyond the farm proper. Carl, shoe- and stockingless in the soak ditch, nods to Sam as though he hadn't been missing for hours, passing up some support withies to Harry, who grinned at the latecomer. Hugh, at the end of the chain, settles glistening haw-shoots destined for hedgedom in the cart and gives Sam a look that says he's more annoyed about missed work than play, but irritated nonetheless. He doesn't say anything as yet, however, waiting for an explanation. It strikes Sam of a sudden that he might have a hard time furnishing one that doesn't make him sound quite mad.

Sam frowns as he thinks on the best tasks to assist with the farm, wanting to help as much as he could given the events of earlier, as well as the fact that it is a day of rest - or so Scripture says - not that he was much more pious beyond most people.

His mind eventually drifts to where he thinks Carl or Hugh might be near the cart - as well as any other activities that might happen later, if he got a chance with either of them - and he makes his way to where he suspects they might be.

---

As he arrives, he nods a welcome to the group, helping to load up what supplies he can, before wondering just how he would explain this to Hugh.

"Master Hugh, could I speak with you privately for a moment?" he asks softly as he helps to load more supplies for the next day. He still wondered just what the others would think of him, whether mad or drunk or both - but at least he had some other witnesses from earlier whom Hugh could speak to, if he really doubted Sam.

Hugh looks at Sam narrowly for some moments, not entirely sure what this is about, then shoos him gently but inorexably backwards and away from the cart with a hand to the chest. Harry looks amused, giving Sam a nervous rather you than me grin at apparent trouble. Carl just sits on the back of the cart to put his shoes and stockings back on.

Hugh glances back at them. "You two start off when you're ready, we'll catch you up," he says, herding Sam back nearer the farm yard. "How private is this matter, then?" he asks, glancing to the buidings once they're out of easy earshot of those working.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:28, Fri 06 Jan 2023.

Sam nodded to the other two men, following Hugh to the barnyard. He saw the cheeky look Harry had given him before he had left, making nothing of it for now.

"I... I wanted to apologize for missing today. I truly hadn't intended to miss today, but... there was a situation that involved my family." He began to explain the day's events in earnest, starting from just after the church service with the token, producing it to show proof he wasn't lying.

"I understand that today's events don't excuse my actions, but I was worried about my family and didn't want them to be hurt. If I can make it up to you, I'm glad to do so."

Since Sam had started talking to him when they were hardly out of earshot of the others rather than making any answer on the question of privacy, Hugh had assumed it was nothing so dire that anyone walking past would be unwelcome and leant against the sunwarmed wall of the barn to listen. He hears Sam's tale out with crossed arms and a puzzled expression, eventually reaching out a sturdy, calloused hand for a closer look at the token.

"Well they would excuse 'em, if they're true," he says, any flattery that work or personal attentions should be put above kin brushed off without further comment, "-though if what you've told me is true I'm glad the thing didn't come back here in your stead, given I knew naught of it." His face twitches, not knowing which of them would be worse off had he drawn the Wood-thing into a shed with a lock and commenced to kissing it.

"You show me that token every time you've been out of my sight from now 'til they think to catch that thing," he instructs at length. "Close to an' all. If ye need time off...well, I doubt it'll try for your family again, at least not looking like yourself, but if y'feel it's there you're more needed then blame it on your father being ill. He's doing better than he was, ay? But yes, if y'need it, warn me, an' I'll deal with the Master around that."

"I'll think of something to make up for the rest of the day's work," he finishes. The look he gives Sam is one in which irritation is replaced with some other nagging itch, highly aware that they have limited time before questions might be asked, and that they're known to be off alone together. "As for the other matter...hm."

Sam nodded as he followed Hugh, listening intently to the other man. He saw the man shudder at the thought of what might have been, had he not alerted the older man to what had happened.

"I will, master Hugh. Thank you for understanding. And aye, my father is doing better, though most anything is better than being asleep with a fever."

He saw the other look Hugh gave him, and thought he felt a similar itch.

"I'd be glad to help with that later as well - meet me back here after the work's done?"

"Lucky's the man that can sleep through the worst, but good, good to hear that." Hugh pushes away from the barn wall and scans the yard, thinking.

"Hm? No, no time - the wife expects me back promptly of a Sunday. Midmorning tomorrow maybe - we're due to check inventory on the stores; I could start you off with some supervision." The desire to at least touch what couldn't be got at brought Hugh's heavy hand up to Sam's shoulder.

"That said, I didn't hear of you eating in any of that story - have you had anything today?"

Sam moved away from the barn wall, nodding to Hugh. "Aye, it's better, even if just a small bit." He smiled at Hugh when the older man put his heavy hand on his shoulder, but felt his stomach growl. "I am glad to help tomorrow - but if you have anything else tonight, I'm glad to make it up."

His stomach growled again.

"I suppose I could use something to eat."

"Come along with you, then," Hugh says, steering Sam towards the kitchen. "We'll get food in you at least."

---

The maids manage to get Sam a plate of greens, turnip and such scraps of roast beef as are to be got after everyone else has been at them, with as much gravy as he likes. Hugh stays around but doesn't loom over the young man while he eats, rather making enquiries for the next day's provisioning and whether the young mistress has got over the morning's sudden impulse to eat as much dandelion salad as possible (the maids account Janet to be sated on that front, though they'd bulked the dish with as much sweet cabbage and such as could be got, given the effects of excessive dandelion-eating). The kitchen feels warm and safe, a different world to the strangeness in the village of late.

Sam lets Hugh lead him to the kitchen, enjoying the warmth, comfort, and safety he felt inside the building compared to the rest of the day. He listens intently to the plans and provisioning for the next day, and he wonders what would lead Janet to want so much dandelion salad.

"Thank you for the understanding, Master Hugh," he says. He keeps his voice low as he continues, "I can meet you first thing in the morning, if you'd prefer."

"No, you just keep to what needs done first thing, the stores will surely wait 'til midmorning," is Hugh's easy reply. He leans on the table to continue talking about local concerns with the other servants whilst Sam finishes eating.

---

Afterwards, they wend up into the Criddle outfields, shortcutting along the Saxon path whose route still scores the landscape despite the comings and goings of eras and kings. Tiny chickweed stars and the delicate blues of speedwell bloom along the way and a skylark shouts of his virility with the sound of summer somewhere high up in the cloud-dashed sky. It's easy walking, even if there's a little longing tension when watching the swing of Hugh's hands or the shift of muscle under his stockings. Rabbits flee them in their crossing and a hare lower down stands up to watch.

They catch up with the men at a point where Carl's part of the saplings are almost unloaded; Sam gets assigned to passing down stob rods and withies and instructed to help distribute them to where work will be taken up tomorrow whilst Harry and Hugh head to the furthest point the gear is needed, two fields along, and work back.

Carl's characteristically silent as he shoulders stakes and gathers withies, leaving Sam to pick up a matching number of sprouted twigs with wet globs of earth and roots below, just barely recognisable as the start of trees. Carl looks back and pauses when they reach the lowest part of next day's work site, however, then indicates Sam should set his burden down and paces back to where he'd been clearing dead brush and ditch growth the night before (Sam remembers what had happened after that day's work was laid by, and the moments Carl's calloused hand had caressed his throat).

Following him down that way, Sam sees both how well the ditch work hides any incidental flattening of the vegetation in there, and that what's being indicated to him is an oddly fecund patch of wildflowers. Odd enough, that red clover, hedge woundwort, corn spurrey, yellow rattle and poppies should appear so early and in bloom, never mind on a ditch-side otherwise trodden down, but Sam knows for certain they were not there last night. He would have been right on top of them. Carl gives him a questioning look, as though Sam might know more about the impossible blooms.

"...?"


[[let's have a Spot Hidden here, too.]]

Sam nods to Hugh, listening in to the local concerns as he eats.

---

After he made his way out to the outfields, listening to the skylarks and the other birds sing their songs, he nods to Carl with a smile and a particular look. He crouches down, investigating the wildflowers at the ditch at the lowest point.

14:18, Today: Samuel Hartman rolled 24 using 1d100 with rolls of 24.  Spot Hidden 60.

The flowers seem to be flowers, in all their particulars: perhaps a little brighter and more pungent than most, but not unnaturally so. Their stems and leaves feel as they should and seem like mature plants, only their sudden appearance and random grouping remains inexplicable.

"That your power, then?" Carl actually asks aloud, and as Sam looks up and further at his colleague he spots a strangely dark fox in the background, unusual for this time of day.

Sam took note of how the flowers were almost brighter and pungent than average, but then he glanced up as he heard Carl, and saw the fox - had anyone else seen this fox? Did it relate to anything he had seen in the Wood?

"No, something just seemed off about it. But that fox over there... seems odd for it to be out now, don't you think?"

OOC: Would Sam be feeling the same sort of intensity he did with the stag?

Carl raises an eyebrow at the 'just', the unnatural flowering doing more than seeming in its bright wrongness, but turns to look at Sam's gesturing. He watches the fox run into the nearby trees, slowly plucking a cow parsley stalk to chew on as he shrugs.

"Strange things abroad of late," he observes, looking to where it had gone.


[[Nope. The flowers do, a tiny amount, but that might just be the associations of the very animal thing that occured there. Sam might remember the Doctor and Tom saying that the double took to looking like a fox when they managed to rescue his niece from it, however.]]