The Yule Log RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Huan · 01-31-2006, 03:37 PM

Birger sat on his little stool near the doorway to the kitchen. His chores were done, and Cook had everything in order for the midday meal. She would call him, she’d said, sending him out to sit for a while and drink a cup of steaming tea.

He was all eyes and ears as he strove to hear what the others were talking about. He shivered, despite the layers of clothing he had on. More from dread though than from the cold. Mistress Wenda looked very bad and scared, too. And she was someone he never thought to look so. She walked tall in his little world, like some untouchable being, brave and strong and fearless. He was hard put to reconcile how he saw her now with the image of her he’d always had.

White Paw sat next to him, leaning against his legs. Birger was glad of the warmth and of the friendly, secure feeling the dog gave him. ‘Can you hear them, boy?’ he asked, whispering in the dog’s ear. ‘Something about a terrible wight and such and coming after Mistress Wenda?’ He shivered again, thinking how just yesterday, he and Mara had gone far from the little village, to the north. No wonder White Paw had tried to hurry them home!

He glanced over at Old Goody who was herself watching one of the tall men as he stirred up the fire for her. There was an odd look on her face, he thought, as she glanced into the flames. But the fire had blazed up as he watched her, drawing his attention. And the light from it and the dancing flames brought a kernel of hope to him. He put his arms about White Paw’s neck. ‘It’ll be alright, won’t it, boy?’

littlemanpoet · 01-31-2006, 07:08 PM

The big man called Stamo came in from outside. He took his friend Mori aside and whispered, reckoning not quite aright that they were out of hearing, for Wenda's ears were uncommonly sharp; but not so sharp as to catch every word. 'strays ...' whispered Stamo. '... loosed ... north ... prisons ... kept ... Not ... wight either ...' Mori hissed back, 'strong body ... uses ...' Then Mori turned a little and nodded at Wenda meaningfully; Wenda was careful not to show that she more than caught his look out of the corner of her eye. ‘ ... she ... just ... prize ... seeking.’

Wenda's eyes widened. There was no mistaking his meaning. The thing was after her! She was not sure what the quiet thing was, wraith or worse. Whatever it was, it was the worst thing she'd ever come across in all her days, few as they were. Ravenous wolfpacks hungry for her two reindeer, Pada and Muna, she could outwit and outrace. This was beyond her. The being was beyond all the others here as well!

"I need to go from here," she murmured.

"Stay here," said Mara. "You are safe here."

Wenda turned on her, wide eyed with terror. "No one is safe here! I must leave! It seeks me! Not any of you, but if I stay, you are doomed too!"

"Hush! Hush! Do not say such things!" Mara soothed. "We will find a way."

Wenda subsided and stared into the fire. Stamo came over and exchanged pleasantries with Goody, then made to add his staff to the fire. He murmured some words, tapped the log thrice; the fire was hungry for it, or so it seemed. Then he withdrew his staff; Wenda expected the blaze to calm, but it did not. That staff. Wenda looked at Stamo again. Did her eyes see aright? Was that staff not charred, where he had put it in the fire?

Wenda thanked him for setting the blaze higher, and watched him a while.

Then she noticed the boy sitting by his dog, staring at her wide-eyed with fear. He put his arms about the dog's neck. ‘It’ll be alright, won’t it, boy?’

Wenda's heart went out to him. She thought a moment: Bergir was his name. It was not good that the boy should fear so. She wished it were otherwise, and that maybe she could allay his fear. She smiled.

"How is your dog called, Bergir lad?"

"White Paw, ma'am."

"A good name and a beautiful dog," she smiled. "Would you sit closer to the fire, you and white Paw? I would be glad of your company, and maybe you of the warmth?"

Rose · 02-01-2006, 02:51 AM

His master was a shy boots, especially about the females. White Paw nudged Birger’s thigh with his nose and giving a low growl, sat smartly on his haunches, one paw on Birger’s knee. His tail swish-swished back and forth on the wooden floor.

Tugging at Birger’s breeches with his teeth, White Paw pulled him toward a bench nearer the fire. One very near the chair on which the woman sat. There was something particularly intriguing about her his nose told him. And he felt an instant liking for her, a trust. White Paw sat leaning against the boy’s legs once again, but his eyes were fixed on the woman; his gaze following her every move.

01-31-2006, 03:37 PM	#1
Huan Haunting Spirit Join Date: Feb 2005 Location: Halls of Oromë Posts: 54	Birger sat on his little stool near the doorway to the kitchen. His chores were done, and Cook had everything in order for the midday meal. She would call him, she’d said, sending him out to sit for a while and drink a cup of steaming tea. He was all eyes and ears as he strove to hear what the others were talking about. He shivered, despite the layers of clothing he had on. More from dread though than from the cold. Mistress Wenda looked very bad and scared, too. And she was someone he never thought to look so. She walked tall in his little world, like some untouchable being, brave and strong and fearless. He was hard put to reconcile how he saw her now with the image of her he’d always had. White Paw sat next to him, leaning against his legs. Birger was glad of the warmth and of the friendly, secure feeling the dog gave him. ‘Can you hear them, boy?’ he asked, whispering in the dog’s ear. ‘Something about a terrible wight and such and coming after Mistress Wenda?’ He shivered again, thinking how just yesterday, he and Mara had gone far from the little village, to the north. No wonder White Paw had tried to hurry them home! He glanced over at Old Goody who was herself watching one of the tall men as he stirred up the fire for her. There was an odd look on her face, he thought, as she glanced into the flames. But the fire had blazed up as he watched her, drawing his attention. And the light from it and the dancing flames brought a kernel of hope to him. He put his arms about White Paw’s neck. ‘It’ll be alright, won’t it, boy?’ Last edited by Huan; 01-31-2006 at 03:50 PM.

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01-31-2006, 07:08 PM	#2
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	The big man called Stamo came in from outside. He took his friend Mori aside and whispered, reckoning not quite aright that they were out of hearing, for Wenda's ears were uncommonly sharp; but not so sharp as to catch every word. 'strays ...' whispered Stamo. '... loosed ... north ... prisons ... kept ... Not ... wight either ...' Mori hissed back, 'strong body ... uses ...' Then Mori turned a little and nodded at Wenda meaningfully; Wenda was careful not to show that she more than caught his look out of the corner of her eye. ‘ ... she ... just ... prize ... seeking.’ Wenda's eyes widened. There was no mistaking his meaning. The thing was after her! She was not sure what the quiet thing was, wraith or worse. Whatever it was, it was the worst thing she'd ever come across in all her days, few as they were. Ravenous wolfpacks hungry for her two reindeer, Pada and Muna, she could outwit and outrace. This was beyond her. The being was beyond all the others here as well! "I need to go from here," she murmured. "Stay here," said Mara. "You are safe here." Wenda turned on her, wide eyed with terror. "No one is safe here! I must leave! It seeks me! Not any of you, but if I stay, you are doomed too!" "Hush! Hush! Do not say such things!" Mara soothed. "We will find a way." Wenda subsided and stared into the fire. Stamo came over and exchanged pleasantries with Goody, then made to add his staff to the fire. He murmured some words, tapped the log thrice; the fire was hungry for it, or so it seemed. Then he withdrew his staff; Wenda expected the blaze to calm, but it did not. That staff. Wenda looked at Stamo again. Did her eyes see aright? Was that staff not charred, where he had put it in the fire? Wenda thanked him for setting the blaze higher, and watched him a while. Then she noticed the boy sitting by his dog, staring at her wide-eyed with fear. He put his arms about the dog's neck. ‘It’ll be alright, won’t it, boy?’ Wenda's heart went out to him. She thought a moment: Bergir was his name. It was not good that the boy should fear so. She wished it were otherwise, and that maybe she could allay his fear. She smiled. "How is your dog called, Bergir lad?" "White Paw, ma'am." "A good name and a beautiful dog," she smiled. "Would you sit closer to the fire, you and white Paw? I would be glad of your company, and maybe you of the warmth?"

02-01-2006, 02:51 AM	#3
Rose Haunting Spirit Join Date: Nov 2005 Location: Playing to the tide with Uncle John Posts: 49	His master was a shy boots, especially about the females. White Paw nudged Birger’s thigh with his nose and giving a low growl, sat smartly on his haunches, one paw on Birger’s knee. His tail swish-swished back and forth on the wooden floor. Tugging at Birger’s breeches with his teeth, White Paw pulled him toward a bench nearer the fire. One very near the chair on which the woman sat. There was something particularly intriguing about her his nose told him. And he felt an instant liking for her, a trust. White Paw sat leaning against the boy’s legs once again, but his eyes were fixed on the woman; his gaze following her every move.