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The X Phial · 09-28-2003, 07:54 AM

A chill entered the air as the sun slipped below the line of hills. Though it was Spring in Arnor, the evenings could get quite cool. The stone held the heat for a few hours, but by the time the moon rose it would be too cold to sit for long without a fire or a warm bed of blankets.

Most of the settlers would be asleep by then, anyway. The hard labor of felling and hauling trees and caring for children and animals in a wild atmosphere was draining on everyone. Often, by the time the chill settled in the entire camp was quiet, with the exception of the Dwarf quarter, where singing and laughter could sometimes be heard.

Borgand was heading in that direction again. He found the bulk of the dwarves around a merry fire, arguing in a good natured way about the best place to put a mill.

"Good sirs, I am sorry to interrupt your discourse, but we finally have enough timber to begin working on a short wall and a community hall. Would it be possible for me to see the plans as they stand? I would like to build the temporary hall in the city center."

The dwarves looked up at him with an expression bordering bewilderment and shock. Apparently he had overstepped his bounds. The grizzled dwarf who had spoken to him earlier, Barzun was it, spoke up again.

"We are not accustomed to sharing our plans before they are finished, man."

It was clear the "man" part was filled with a sort of contempt, but Borgand brushed it off.

"I would not ask, but I feel our camp needs a center. A place for people to call home, if you know what I mean. We are without a home at the moment, and the sooner we can make this place ours, give it a feeling of familiarity, the better. Perhaps it makes us weak, but if we do not have a center soon, this camp may not make it. I trust that, as our allies, you want to see this venture succeed."

The dwarf and his companions looked at one another. Clearly they understood the feeling of being away from home and in unusual surroundings. Though Borgand doubted any of them would ever admit it, he could see a sense of pity in some of their eyes. Barzun's eyes held no pity, but did reflect a shrewd intelligence, as if he were re-evaluating this crippled man in front of him.

Finally, he spoke again. "While the plans are not yet ready to be viewed, I can tell you that the city center will be on that small hill there." He indicated a small uprise about 500 feet from their current position. "I hope this will be enough for you."

Borgand bowed. "Indeed. I appreciate your candor."

As he left he felt their eyes following him. He did his best not to limp too much. In truth, the reticence of the dwarves annoyed him. They were working for him, not his masters. If a human contractor had spoken to him thus, Borgand would have had him immediately fired. These were not humans, though, but master craftsmen, and he knew that without their help the people would not have sufficient housing before the winter came. He would have to play their game, but the secrecy galled him. They won't even be living here. If anyone deserves to see the plans, it is my people.

From the nearby forest a line of weary men was returning to camp. They brought their tools with them, and several carried large branches for use in fire building. All around the camp the smell of cooking and fires was beginning to get pungent. Small children laughed to know that supper was on its way and older chidren prepared heated water for their fathers and brothers to bathe in. Borgand was proud of his people. They were survivors.

Approaching his own tent he saw that Illith had a group of children around the camp as usual. She often tended to the children of other women so they could look after the animals or take turns gathering roots from the woods. Some of the tough, edible roots and acorns had been found already, but Borgand knew that without game the settlement would be in trouble soon.

Men all over the camp were greeting their wives and children, happy to be done with a day of hard labor. Borgand still had many hours of work ahead of him, though. He had a watch to set and a meeting to call for the morning. Not wanting to trouble any of the tired workers further, he would carry the news of the meeting to each family himself. He sighed into the chilly air and smiled at his wife and son. It was worth it, for them.

[ September 29, 2003: Message edited by: The X Phial ]

09-28-2003, 07:54 AM	#32
The X Phial Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Mar 2001 Location: Out there with the truth. Come find me. Posts: 320	A chill entered the air as the sun slipped below the line of hills. Though it was Spring in Arnor, the evenings could get quite cool. The stone held the heat for a few hours, but by the time the moon rose it would be too cold to sit for long without a fire or a warm bed of blankets. Most of the settlers would be asleep by then, anyway. The hard labor of felling and hauling trees and caring for children and animals in a wild atmosphere was draining on everyone. Often, by the time the chill settled in the entire camp was quiet, with the exception of the Dwarf quarter, where singing and laughter could sometimes be heard. Borgand was heading in that direction again. He found the bulk of the dwarves around a merry fire, arguing in a good natured way about the best place to put a mill. "Good sirs, I am sorry to interrupt your discourse, but we finally have enough timber to begin working on a short wall and a community hall. Would it be possible for me to see the plans as they stand? I would like to build the temporary hall in the city center." The dwarves looked up at him with an expression bordering bewilderment and shock. Apparently he had overstepped his bounds. The grizzled dwarf who had spoken to him earlier, Barzun was it, spoke up again. "We are not accustomed to sharing our plans before they are finished, man." It was clear the "man" part was filled with a sort of contempt, but Borgand brushed it off. "I would not ask, but I feel our camp needs a center. A place for people to call home, if you know what I mean. We are without a home at the moment, and the sooner we can make this place ours, give it a feeling of familiarity, the better. Perhaps it makes us weak, but if we do not have a center soon, this camp may not make it. I trust that, as our allies, you want to see this venture succeed." The dwarf and his companions looked at one another. Clearly they understood the feeling of being away from home and in unusual surroundings. Though Borgand doubted any of them would ever admit it, he could see a sense of pity in some of their eyes. Barzun's eyes held no pity, but did reflect a shrewd intelligence, as if he were re-evaluating this crippled man in front of him. Finally, he spoke again. "While the plans are not yet ready to be viewed, I can tell you that the city center will be on that small hill there." He indicated a small uprise about 500 feet from their current position. "I hope this will be enough for you." Borgand bowed. "Indeed. I appreciate your candor." As he left he felt their eyes following him. He did his best not to limp too much. In truth, the reticence of the dwarves annoyed him. They were working for him, not his masters. If a human contractor had spoken to him thus, Borgand would have had him immediately fired. These were not humans, though, but master craftsmen, and he knew that without their help the people would not have sufficient housing before the winter came. He would have to play their game, but the secrecy galled him. They won't even be living here. If anyone deserves to see the plans, it is my people. From the nearby forest a line of weary men was returning to camp. They brought their tools with them, and several carried large branches for use in fire building. All around the camp the smell of cooking and fires was beginning to get pungent. Small children laughed to know that supper was on its way and older chidren prepared heated water for their fathers and brothers to bathe in. Borgand was proud of his people. They were survivors. Approaching his own tent he saw that Illith had a group of children around the camp as usual. She often tended to the children of other women so they could look after the animals or take turns gathering roots from the woods. Some of the tough, edible roots and acorns had been found already, but Borgand knew that without game the settlement would be in trouble soon. Men all over the camp were greeting their wives and children, happy to be done with a day of hard labor. Borgand still had many hours of work ahead of him, though. He had a watch to set and a meeting to call for the morning. Not wanting to trouble any of the tired workers further, he would carry the news of the meeting to each family himself. He sighed into the chilly air and smiled at his wife and son. It was worth it, for them. [ September 29, 2003: Message edited by: The X Phial ] __________________ But then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.