Outracing the Flames RPG

[Nogrod]

Sythric recognized the soft voice. It was she. Well, that was a relief. Someone he knew. He had so many questions to ask her, but then kind of refrained on them. He truly was happy to see her here on guard at this moment!

"Good night my friend", he said in a low voice, "Well, it surely was me having terrible nightmares. I just had to get away from them". He looked at Meghan with a smile. "I don't know why Raedwald is here, but I do believe, that Leof was overhasty: you seem to be doing fine."

He was silent for a moment, looking at Meghan. She offered the pipe to him, and he took it.

"Then again, I 'm not sure whether I would have to say being happy to see you here or not. I just don't know, which one is the safer place: ours' here, or being with the refugees behind us. You may deduct, that my nightmares concerned those who were left behind. I really do fear for our people".

Sythric sighed, and leaned to the tree, watching Meghan intensively, pulling the pipe towards his mouth.

"But how has your ride been? Everythings' allright? I surely think, both of us "old timers" appearing from nowhere must have begged the question. But remember, that we are two more guys to wield the sword, if it comes to that. I know your father, and Raedwald is my friend. How should we go forwards? I don't have any idea, about how have you declared yourselves during the first day. So who is the leader, which are the tensions?"

He looked at Meghan, quite amiably this time. Took an easy inhaling from the pipe and puffed some semi-fine rings fron it.

[Arry]

Wulfham

Words tumbled out of Dorran like a spring freshet after a sudden thaw. Brand could not help but smile, and doing so, immediately regretted the action. ‘By the Burning Briar!’ he swore holding his hand to his face. ‘The tea, Dorran. Hand me the mug!’

When the sharp onset of pain had diminished, Brand took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘No need for “sorrys” and such,’ he told the young man. ‘You got the fiend away from Lady, and for that I’m very glad.’ He clapped the young man on the shoulder. ‘She was a beast of a cat, now, wasn’t she? We came away from it still breathing and her and her murdering get done for. There’s glad enough in that, isn’t there? And won’t it be a grand tale to tell family and friends when we get back!’ He was about to chuckle, when he thought better of it and simply nodded his head, eyes glinting mischievously. ‘Of course, we’ll have to agree on a few details, so as to back each other up. But a little fancy embroidery, as my gran used to say, always livens up a plain piece of cloth, don’t you think?’

‘Here . . . give me the hare, why don’t you. I’ll skin it out and disjoint it for us, if you’ll get the turnips and thyme you spied out.’ He took up his knife and pointed to the pot and the waterskins. ‘I can just get the meat going if you bring those to me. I’d get up myself, but things seems to swim if I move too fast.’

He settled himself in, humming a little as he worked over the hare. Dorran had gone off to gather the turnips and herbs. He’d left Brand one of his sister’s biscuits. Dipped in his tea, Brand savored the soggy snack.

It was a nice, fat hare and he could almost taste it as he put the pieces into the pot and covered it with a bit of water – cooked long enough, it would be tender enough for him to chew on. He pulled his pack over to him and fished about in one of the side pockets. There was a little leather pouch there his mother had sent along. Several large pieces of rock salt. Brand crushed a bit of it and sprinkled it over the pieces of meat.

By scooting himself carefully across the ground and pushing the pot ahead of him, Brand got up close to the fire without sending his head throbbing. He positioned the pot on some rocks right on the fire’s edge where it would soon grow hot enough to bubble and simmer.

Brand looked about the little camp, Vaenosa and Incana were nowhere to be seen. He wondered if they had gone off hunting. Picking up a long thick stick from the pile of wood they’d brought, he stirred the stewing meat a bit and readjusted the nearness of the stewpot to the fire. The effort of just that little work surprised him with how tiring it had been. He gave the meat one more stir and then leaned back against an old stump. Soon, the warmth of the afternoon and the tea he’d drunk had him drifting off to sleep.

[Naria]

Wulfham


It felt good as she opened her eyes; the sun was warm on her face. While she was having a stretch and a yawn she smelt something on the fire. Bending down she opened the lid of the pot that was positioned slightly off of the direct heat. Incana inhaled deeply, the water in the pot had just begun to boil and the rabbit inside made it smell irresistible. She wanted to take her mind off of food, just thinking about a nice hare stew was making her mouth water.

Incana wanted to see the damage her horse had left on her thigh. She unravelled the hemming and noticed a massive bruise that had already begun to change it's distinct colour and right in the middle was a perfect hoof print. It still hurt but Incana was no-worse-for-wear, so she decided to take a walk. She had not seen her horse since the onslot of the cats and wondered where Starlight was. She gave a sharp whistle and she slowly came plodding out of the bush. Incana once again greeted the mare with arms wrapped around her neck and Starlight returned the affection by nuzzling the woman's head.

Incana found Brand sleeping at camp in his bedroll and noticed Dorran picking something out of the ground; maybe for the stew she thought. She looked for Vaenosa next and remembered that she had gone to the river to wash herself and Nay after she had brought Brand to the safety of the camp the night before. Incana clicked her tongue for Starlight to follow and proceeded to find the other woman. She didn't have to look to long, Vaenosa was almost at the same spot that Incana had found the deer tracks. Incana approached the woman with caution, not sure of the mood in which Vaenosa was in that day.

Incana stood with Starlight beside her and cleared her throat to announce her presence. "Ermm, how are you today? Have you received any wounds from the events of last night?" Incana wanted to ask more, but thought better to wait and see how Vaenosa reacted to her query. The one thing that was on Incana's mind since very early in the morning was Vaenosa's terrible dream, she would need to wait and ask about it some other time.

She desperately wanted to talk with someone about the cats of last night or just nothing at all. Her family often did this, they would gather by the fireplace at night and converse about how that day had went and how the next day should go. Incana felt a sudden pang of loss and loneliness for her family and walked away from Vaenosa not wanting to wait there for a response. She had not gone too far from where the other woman was and found a big Elder tree and sat down. Incana felt tears come to her, partly an overwhelming response to the cat fight the night before but mostly to do with the isolation that she felt at that moment. She put her face in her hands and began to sob.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Meghan

Perhaps it was the easy way in which he spoke to her, or perhaps it was just that fact that she was tired. Meghan lifted the ban she’d put on her tongue and began to speak with Sythric as if his questions were meant to be answered and not just polite convention. She took a long draw on the pipe he’d handed back to her and let the sweet smoke out slowly, as if considering where she might begin.

‘Well, Fionn is companionable enough, save that he seems so young. Now I know he and I are of an equal age, but he seems such an innocent. Were he my younger brother I would feel quite protective of him. And to be truthful, I do. I’ve never met an Orc or an Eastern man, but I think they won’t be half won over by his sweet, ingenuous smile or his guileless shrug. He is a dear . . . boy . . .’ Her voice trailed off as she looked to where Fionn slept soundly beneath his blankets.

‘And Osmod . . . hmmmm. Well, he seems our reluctant leader. That is, until you two old badgers showed up.’ She winked at Sythric, a glint in her eye. She was enjoying having someone to talk to, even though she knew he would sift through them and use what grains of truth he thought might be useful. ‘He seemed fairly sure of himself when we started out . . . but really, he’s a little too accommodating, if you ask me. Which you did, didn’t you? If I were as accommodating as him with my little herd of goats, then they would all have run willy-nilly the very first summer out to the far pastures and been picked off by the wolves.’ She raised her brows at Sythric, half expecting a reaction at her harsh assessment. But the old soldier simply puffed on the pipe she’d given back to him, nodding for her to go on. ‘I think sometimes he doesn’t want to offend anyone. That he wants everyone to like him, or if not like him, then at least not to rely on him too much.’

Meghan stamped her feet a little and rocked back and forth on them, trying to warm them. She’d stood in one place too long and the cold had crept in. ‘Come walk a bit,’ she said. ‘I need to get my blood flowing.’

They took a turn about the little camp, their eyes flicking here and there into the shadows and beyond. There was nothing untoward they could see, nothing suspicious. ‘I suppose you want to hear about us women, too, eh? The gentler sex as those story-tellers who sometime come to the Lord’s hall call us.’ She snorted and bit back too loud a laugh, looking guiltily about lest she had waked one of the others.

‘Well, we are . . . awful! Yes, quite alarming and appalling, really. Me, because I really did not want to come. It was a mistake I was chosen. I rue every foot step that takes me away from my family and my herd. And yet, it is my family’s honor that binds me to this task . . . that and my sincere wish for their safety and the safety of the village.’ She spit on the ground as if clearing her mouth of the bad taste of those words that voiced her unwanted obligation. ‘Aye, I’ll see it through . . . and then be glad at the end when I’m quit of it.’

She looped her arm through his in a moment’s act of innocent familiarity and ease, much as a daughter would do with her father. ‘I’m very glad you and dear old Rædy have come. I will feel safer with you two among us. And, no I’m not ashamed to say so.’ She scuffed a pebble out of her path with the toe of her boot.’ ‘It’s one thing to shepherd a flock of goats, dog by my side, make decisions of life and death as need be for them and for me. But . . . they are little things, really, in the light of what we are supposed to be doing here. I’m out of my depth.’ She dropped her arm from his and turned to look at him. ‘I’m glad to have someone to place my trust in.’

She walked along beside him, quiet for a while, caught in her own thoughts. He had to repeat his question twice before his words got through to her.

‘. . . the other?’ Her cheeks crimsoned and she was glad he could not see them in the dark. ‘Ah, yes . . . Well, I admitted to being awful, didn’t I. And I’ll take my part of burden for that. But Eostre . . .’ She grimaced slightly wondering if she should go on.

‘Well, the woman’s a sharp tongued witch and prickly as a cornered porcupine. I can scarce stand to be around her; and she, I think would be just as happy to see the ground open up and swallow me whole. We’ve only been out a day now, and my whole plan for surviving this little expedition has narrowed down to keeping to myself, keeping out of her way and keeping my mouth shut.’ She laughed softly and shook her head. ‘Which I haven’t done so successfully, now, have I? The keeping my mouth shut, that is.’

The two had come round to the place from which they’d started. Meghan sat down, drawing her cloak close around her. ‘I’ve talked your ear off, haven’t I? I wouldn’t be surprised you and Rædy hauled us all back to the village and told the March-warden he’d best pick out another group . . .’

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald

‘I knew it! Close my eyes for a few moments of well deserved rest and you two are talking about me!’ Rædwald came walking up to where Sythric and Meghan were sitting. He reached into the pocket of his breeches and pulled out a well broke-in pipe. ‘I smelled your smoke in my dreams, little missy. Reminded me of summers out in the eastern pastures.’

He grinned and reached out a hand. ‘Come now, hand it over to your old friend. Just a bowlful will do for me now.’ He tamped in the pipeweed and lit it with a strike from his little flint box. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said between puffs on the pipe, ‘I’ll break out my pouch and we’ll share it around.’

‘So Sythric, what’s got you up from your bedroll? Anything of interest?’ He grinned toward Meghan and then back to his old friend. ‘Or have you been letting the little lady talk your ear off.’ He stepped out of reach of her swing. ‘She chatters like a magpie if you’ll let her . . . her brother and I will attest to that.’

[Nogrod]

"Well, just bad dreams and fear. I wouldn't like to go back to them right now. But this young lady has been just as charming as I remembered her being. And most informative too." He glanced at Meghan and winked his eye to her conspirationally, smiling heartily. Then he patted her shoulder lightly. "We sure would do with some more sparrows like you during these gloomy days".

Then Sythric got to a more serious mood, addressing Raedwald. "So, what's your view of the situation? I do trust our sparrow here, as I count on Osmod. He's a good lad. His father is a friend of my brother and we've met a couple of times. Honest and hard-working boy he is. His father has taken good care not to spoil him. But how about the others? Fionn's father is a stern man I quite appreciate, so I'll have all the confidence on his offspring. But this Eostre-girl? I don't have a very clear picture of her family. I kind of think knowing her father, if he is the man I think he is. And isn't this Eostre living with her uncle or something? Meghan here told me nasty things about their relations. The one thing we can't afford, is us jumping on each other."

Sythric took the pipe that Meghan offered her again, nodded to her and puffed a fragile ring that ascended to the darkness surrounding the three of them.

[Undómë]

Bregoware

Rædwald

‘Hmmm . . .’ Rædwald chewed on the mouthpiece of his pipe. There was a soft clacking sound as he moved it from one side of his mouth to the other and then back again; the stem of it sliding over the tips of his teeth as it slipped along. ‘Other than Meghan, here, whom I’ve known since she was a wee little chicklet, the only one I’ve more or less spoken with has been Fionn. Good boy, I think. Heart’s in the right place.’ He looked over at Sythric and grinned. ‘Wants to be a Rider, you know.’ He nodded his head as if considering Fionn for a moment. ‘Thought maybe once we get to Edoras I’d recommend him to one of the outer march-wardens . . . to be trained up to ride in their company.’

‘The other two, I just don’t know well enough to make comment,’ he went on, flicking his gaze for a moment toward Meghan. ‘Tis hard to be thrown together, to accomplish some task or order, with people with whom you have no natural or long term bonds. Save of course the fact that we are all from the same threatened village.’ His glance swept round to take in the group by the fire. ‘War makes strange bedfellows,’ he murmured, half to himself. Then reconsidering who was included in his statement, he added, ‘In the least offensive sense of the word, that is. And meaning no discourtesy to the ladies, of course.’

- * -

Meghan

They sat companionably, in silence, for a while; the smoke from their pipes rising in thin streamers in the cold night air. Soon, the moon set and that curious hour just before the sun’s rising was heralded in by the few birds left who had not yet flown south to warmer climes.

Meghan rose and stretched, throwing off what weariness she could. It would be a long ride yet to the river. And then there would be the crossing of it. Meghan shivered at the thought of doing that. The Great River had been the western boundary of all her short life, and the biggest piece of water she had ever seen. She’d heard many stories of its deep currents and fierce moods. ‘I’ll just stay in the middle of the raft,’ she thought to herself, not trusting her slight skills at lake swimming to be enough for an accidental dunk in the river’s water.

Rædwald had gone back to the fire and was coaxing the flames up with his offerings of wood. Sythric, too, had ambled back to where his pack lay and had begun to roll up his bedroll. There were stirrings among the sleepers as the morning noises began to intrude on their dreams.

Taking her little reed pipe from an inside pocket of her cape, Meghan played a lively little melody to welcome the new day. Her belly growled, adding its own chorus of hunger to her song. She walked back toward the fire, where Rædwald handed her a crispy piece of snake meat that had been smoking over the banked fire. ‘Eat up and see to your things and your horse,’ he directed her. He looked to the east where the first pale rays of dawn were now creeping across the land.