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Old 10-12-2006, 10:38 AM   #224
Hilde Bracegirdle
Relic of Wandering Days
 
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Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: You'll See Perpetual Change.
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Carl

As the talks around the fire progressed, Carl listened attentively to the discussion as he sat with his quiver, methodically straightening the fletching between thumb and forefinger. And while he knew that there was very little chance of confusing one of the people now surrounding his companions, for one of the villains that would be bearing down on them, he still would look up intermittently, as he tried to learn each man’s face. It would be bad to suddenly find that he could mistake them during the skirmish. And as he studied those faces, he witnessed here and there, a blossoming resolve displace the grim resignation that had seemed etched on so many of them. Backs that had seemed bent with the burden of living grew a bit straighter before his eyes.

And then too, as he looked up furtively from beneath his brow, he noticed quite a few sets of narrowed eyes beyond their circle, peering at him as well Vrór, making him feel self conscious as he sat there. He knew of Vrór’s great skill, what had he, a simple hobbit, to offer them? Indeed, he did not know himself. It was that he was a farmer, but then many of them had worked the ground, and understood better then he, the climate here. But he was included for some reason, and deciding that there was no point now in second guessing his betters, especially now when the whole plan was being threatened by slavers, he laid his quiver down in the dust beside him.

Clearing his throat, and avoiding the curious eyes of those passing by, he glanced at Lindir then at Dorran as he waited for a gap in the conversation. “If I might make a suggestion or two?” he asked at length. All eyes turned toward the small figure as Carl stood up to address the them. “I just wanted to say that my people once had to contend with a rough group too, maybe not just like these slavers but close enough to be cousins. Anyway, we found out that while each one of us could do little to get rid of so many of them, when we all came together there was no stopping us. Those ruffians could not stand against us.

“My point is this, even if you’re handy with sword or knife, it’s no good taking care of a hundred slavers if the there is only a handful of us left after the fighting. You need one another, both to help you now, and later on when you start to make your own way in this land. We’ve got keep an eye out for each other, you know? And fight as a group. Otherwise it will go much harder for all of us.”

Carl looked at the ground behind him as he moved to sit down. There was a rock there that he hadn’t noticed before. Picking it up, another thought came to mind, and so he addressed the group again, jostling the stone in his hand. “Oh, and we might try to spare the slavers’ horses as much as we can. I can’t help but think that they will come in handy, if we can catch some of them.”

Settling down again, Carl looked at the rock in his hand, remembering the one Athwen had found near the stream. Somewhere in this group was the person who had drawn on it, and he knew that with the raid imminent, there was a good chance that he might never find out who it was. Taking out his knife, he looked around to see if Athwen was nearby before beginning to carefully scratch the stone with his knife’s handle. Drawing from memory the tree, the moon and the bird’s footprint as he listened to the others' sober remarks.

Last edited by Hilde Bracegirdle; 10-14-2006 at 10:26 AM.
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