Hard Winters RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Folwren · 03-05-2016, 09:00 PM

"Right about what?" Javan asked, hopping up and down on one foot as he tried to tug on his wet boots - it was never easy putting on wet boots.

"You said earlier it might flood," Cerwyn said.

"I said Osmund said that!" Javan snapped. "I wish he was wrong!" He jerked the second boot on. "I'm going out to help Léof." He ran toward the door. "Come on, if you know anything about horses!" he called over his shoulder.

"Javan!" he heard from his left. Thornden came striding toward him. Javan swerved from his original course to meet him. "We're going to load the wagons and try to take the people and some food out with them. Go out and tell Léof and begin. I'll send men to help you."

Javan nodded and hastened outside. The cold, deep water brought him up short. He paused on the top of the steps leading down from the hall to the courtyard. He drew a shuddering breath and then plunged in. It swirled about his knees, and he shook his head. He doubted they could get the wagons out of this.

"Léof!" he shouted when he reached the stables.

"Here!" came the answer. Javan sloshed to him.

"We're to harness horses to the wagons. Best get the biggest ones, I don't know if we'll be able to get them out."

---

Saeryn

She stumbled out of bed. Her body ached with weariness. Why had this come now? She shook her children awake and bid them dress themselves. Eoghan began to cry.

"Mama, my stomach hurts!" he whimpered. Saeryn touched his forehead and ran it quickly over his cheek and behind his head to his neck. He felt cold and clammy. What more?

"Get dressed, son," she said quietly, her own stomach giving a terrible twist of fear. "You're going to be alright."

She dressed herself with haste, listening all the while as Eoghan's whimpering continued. Just before she left the room, she heard him begin to vomit. She turned back to him. He sat shivering violently on his mattress, leaning over, thankfully, so he had no soiled himself. She hastily wiped his face with her skirt and wrapped him in a blanket. "Are you feeling alright, Ruari?" she asked, looking over at her. Ruari stared at her, her eyes huge and dark, and nodded. "Come on, then."

She led the way out into the bustling hall. Eodwine stood near the fire, which thankfully was still alive, thought water was beginning to churn among the dry ashes beneath the grate.

"Eoghan is ill," she said. "Eodwine, if we are leaving, we must have food and shelter."

Firefoot · 03-05-2016, 09:50 PM

Cerwyn hesitated a moment, put off for a moment by Javan’s snappishness. Well – better to be useful somewhere. She’d only pulled a shawl around her shoulders over her shift when she’d been woken, so she hurried back to the women’s quarters to put on some more useful clothing. She pulled a dress over her head, and after brief consideration decided to pull on Léof’s old trousers that she’d arrived in as well.

All told, dressing only cost her a few minutes’ delay, though in that time several others had been recruited to the stables and she followed them out. Léof spotted her almost immediately. “Do you need something?” he asked.

“No, I’m here to help,” she said. Seeing his look, she added, “Javan said to come.”

If anything, his frown deepened, but he had better things to do than argue. “He’s in the tack room,” Léof said, gesturing. “You can help him bring the harnesses for the carts out. I was about to bring out the first horses…” his voice trailed off as he remembered she’d come out with several others who also needed instruction. He addressed the small group. “The horses in these first four stalls need to be harnessed.” He considered for a moment. The carts had been left alongside the stables; there had used to be an awning there but it had been used for firewood like so many other structures that winter. “A few of you go out and see how stuck the carts are and whether they can be brought around, or if we’ll need to hitch the horses directly out there to pull them out.” The men dispersed, and when Léof turned back to Cerwyn he found that she had disappeared as well, hopefully to find Javan as he'd said.

He’d barely gotten one of the horses out of its stall and clipped him into the aisle to be harnessed when one of the men who’d gone outside to check on the wagons returned. “The ground’s so wet the wheels have sunk straight into the mud,” he reported.

Léof sighed. “I guess we’ll see what happens when we get the horses hitched then,” he said.

Firefoot · 03-07-2016, 01:35 PM

"And if you are done listening in on my conversations, perhaps you could tell me how best I can help," Scyld answered in the same tone.

He glanced around: people were either milling around in confusion or dashing about chaotically, and he wasn't sure any of them really knew what was going on. He didn't.

Galadriel55 · 03-07-2016, 10:41 PM

It was not courteous to order a guest to do housework. The people of Scarburg were too courteous for these rough times, Balan decided. And he was a guest who intended to earn his living with more than words, if need be.

Noticing some people leaving the Hall, Balan quietly went back to the room to get his canvas. He slept in the room with all the other men, and it took him a while to find his bed among all the mattresses. By the time he returned to the Hall, people who stayed inside swirled around the Hall like dust on a light wind, picking up here, landing there, clumping together and then falling apart again. He slipped around them, draped the canvas over himself - he usually used it as a tent, and it hung awkwardly on him, but it would keep off the worst of the water - and stepped outside the doors.

At first he could not see anything. There was a wall made of water and darkness in front of his eyes. For a moment, he was lost; he did not know where to head. Then he chuckled at himself. For someone who can invent such clever characters, you are a mighty fool, Balan. He cocked his ear this way and that, straining to hear voices. Almost nothing could be heard over the rain, but Balan thought he heard a snippet of conversation. He followed it, making sure that the water did not come up too high; he did not want to end up in the trench he helped dig just a few hours ago.

He knew he found the right place when he nearly collided with another man.

"Watch your way! Don't walk here like a wraith in the dark!"

"Wraiths in the dark we must be now if we are not to be wraiths in the light when morning comes," Balan retorted cheerily. He could not see the man's face to tell if he was angered or amused. "Tell me," he said, possibly interrupting the man's thoughts, "what task is to be done?"

"Nothing you and I can do until the horses come. The wagons are stuck too deep!" the man shouted back. Another man's voice sounded, asking what was happening. Balan carefully guided himself to a wagon, where a lantern sat shielded from the rain. Its flame barely lit the edges of the wagon, but it was clear that the wheels were buried deep.

"Do you have a strong, flat piece of wood?" he shouted to the man. He did not hear, so Balan repeated again.

"Unless you make a raft of it, how will wood help you drag the wagons out of the mud?" the man asked.

"As long as the wheels are on the ground, they will keep sinking, and the horses would be exhausted pulling them even a single arm length. But if we place the wood beneath the wheels, we will make a road for the wagons to drive on. Not a very good one, but better than this mud!"

Folwren · 03-12-2016, 03:13 PM

It was hard working in the dark and streaming rain. Javan didn’t have an extra hand to push away the streaming locks of hair out of his eyes as he and several others scrambled in the rising water to get long, stout pieces of wood underneath the wheels of the wagons. Before they were done, other men were leading the horses out with the traces and collars already on them. The water surged around the horses’ knees as they plowed through.

“This your idea?” Javan asked as he and the new minstrel fellow worked side by side at the last wheel.

“Aye,” Balan replied.

“Hope it works,” Javan muttered. He sloshed through the mud and water toward the tongue of the wagon. The horses were backed into places, looking about them nervously, but holding their alarm in check admirably. Javan and the others worked quickly in fastening the traces to the wagon tongue.

“All ready?” Javan asked as he buckled the last clasp.

“All ready,” came the reply. Javan gathered the reins and stood by the near horse’s flank while the other men hurried around to the back of the wagon and to the wheels. They set their hands and backs against it. Javan slapped the reins along the horse’s back, and shouted to the horses. The horses leaned into the collars and heaved. The men gasped as they put all of their effort into the pushing. For one long, horrible moment, nothing happened. The horses strained, their hooves sinking deep into the wet, oozing ground. Then, with a sucking sound and a surge of water, the wagon moved. It rose out of its watery bed, rolled over the wood Javan and the others had put in place. There was a halfhearted cheer as it sloshed out to the main courtyard in front of the hall.

littlemanpoet · 03-12-2016, 07:36 PM

So Scyld was in a bad temper; at least toward her. Fair enough, she thought. They all deserved to be in a bad temper, considering the nuisance of the flood and rains.

"Let's go have a word with Eodwine, see how he thinks we can both be useful."

She turned toward the eorl who stood in the midst of the Hall. She was not sure Scyld would follow, but that was really his choice.

This rain and flooding was too much. It was uncanny. There was no Dark Lord anymore, but it this much rain and flood must have wizardry behind it; or at least, something altogether out of their reckoning.

piosenniel · 05-11-2020, 01:18 PM

This Game thread will be moved to Elvenhome.

It can be retrieved for play at the request of the owner and players

~*~ Pio

03-05-2016, 09:00 PM	#1
Folwren Messenger of Hope Join Date: Jun 2005 Location: In a tiny, insignificant little town in one of the many States. Posts: 5,076	Javan "Right about what?" Javan asked, hopping up and down on one foot as he tried to tug on his wet boots - it was never easy putting on wet boots. "You said earlier it might flood," Cerwyn said. "I said Osmund said that!" Javan snapped. "I wish he was wrong!" He jerked the second boot on. "I'm going out to help Léof." He ran toward the door. "Come on, if you know anything about horses!" he called over his shoulder. "Javan!" he heard from his left. Thornden came striding toward him. Javan swerved from his original course to meet him. "We're going to load the wagons and try to take the people and some food out with them. Go out and tell Léof and begin. I'll send men to help you." Javan nodded and hastened outside. The cold, deep water brought him up short. He paused on the top of the steps leading down from the hall to the courtyard. He drew a shuddering breath and then plunged in. It swirled about his knees, and he shook his head. He doubted they could get the wagons out of this. "Léof!" he shouted when he reached the stables. "Here!" came the answer. Javan sloshed to him. "We're to harness horses to the wagons. Best get the biggest ones, I don't know if we'll be able to get them out." --- Saeryn She stumbled out of bed. Her body ached with weariness. Why had this come now? She shook her children awake and bid them dress themselves. Eoghan began to cry. "Mama, my stomach hurts!" he whimpered. Saeryn touched his forehead and ran it quickly over his cheek and behind his head to his neck. He felt cold and clammy. What more? "Get dressed, son," she said quietly, her own stomach giving a terrible twist of fear. "You're going to be alright." She dressed herself with haste, listening all the while as Eoghan's whimpering continued. Just before she left the room, she heard him begin to vomit. She turned back to him. He sat shivering violently on his mattress, leaning over, thankfully, so he had no soiled himself. She hastily wiped his face with her skirt and wrapped him in a blanket. "Are you feeling alright, Ruari?" she asked, looking over at her. Ruari stared at her, her eyes huge and dark, and nodded. "Come on, then." She led the way out into the bustling hall. Eodwine stood near the fire, which thankfully was still alive, thought water was beginning to churn among the dry ashes beneath the grate. "Eoghan is ill," she said. "Eodwine, if we are leaving, we must have food and shelter." Last edited by Folwren; 03-07-2016 at 06:45 AM.

03-07-2016, 10:41 PM	#4
Galadriel55 Blossom of Dwimordene Join Date: Oct 2010 Location: The realm of forgotten words Posts: 10,314	Balan It was not courteous to order a guest to do housework. The people of Scarburg were too courteous for these rough times, Balan decided. And he was a guest who intended to earn his living with more than words, if need be. Noticing some people leaving the Hall, Balan quietly went back to the room to get his canvas. He slept in the room with all the other men, and it took him a while to find his bed among all the mattresses. By the time he returned to the Hall, people who stayed inside swirled around the Hall like dust on a light wind, picking up here, landing there, clumping together and then falling apart again. He slipped around them, draped the canvas over himself - he usually used it as a tent, and it hung awkwardly on him, but it would keep off the worst of the water - and stepped outside the doors. At first he could not see anything. There was a wall made of water and darkness in front of his eyes. For a moment, he was lost; he did not know where to head. Then he chuckled at himself. For someone who can invent such clever characters, you are a mighty fool, Balan. He cocked his ear this way and that, straining to hear voices. Almost nothing could be heard over the rain, but Balan thought he heard a snippet of conversation. He followed it, making sure that the water did not come up too high; he did not want to end up in the trench he helped dig just a few hours ago. He knew he found the right place when he nearly collided with another man. "Watch your way! Don't walk here like a wraith in the dark!" "Wraiths in the dark we must be now if we are not to be wraiths in the light when morning comes," Balan retorted cheerily. He could not see the man's face to tell if he was angered or amused. "Tell me," he said, possibly interrupting the man's thoughts, "what task is to be done?" "Nothing you and I can do until the horses come. The wagons are stuck too deep!" the man shouted back. Another man's voice sounded, asking what was happening. Balan carefully guided himself to a wagon, where a lantern sat shielded from the rain. Its flame barely lit the edges of the wagon, but it was clear that the wheels were buried deep. "Do you have a strong, flat piece of wood?" he shouted to the man. He did not hear, so Balan repeated again. "Unless you make a raft of it, how will wood help you drag the wagons out of the mud?" the man asked. "As long as the wheels are on the ground, they will keep sinking, and the horses would be exhausted pulling them even a single arm length. But if we place the wood beneath the wheels, we will make a road for the wagons to drive on. Not a very good one, but better than this mud!"

03-12-2016, 07:36 PM	#6
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Rowenna So Scyld was in a bad temper; at least toward her. Fair enough, she thought. They all deserved to be in a bad temper, considering the nuisance of the flood and rains. "Let's go have a word with Eodwine, see how he thinks we can both be useful." She turned toward the eorl who stood in the midst of the Hall. She was not sure Scyld would follow, but that was really his choice. This rain and flooding was too much. It was uncanny. There was no Dark Lord anymore, but it this much rain and flood must have wizardry behind it; or at least, something altogether out of their reckoning.

05-11-2020, 01:18 PM	#7
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	This Game thread will be moved to Elvenhome. It can be retrieved for play at the request of the owner and players ~*~ Pio __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

03-05-2016, 09:50 PM	#2
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,547	Cerwyn hesitated a moment, put off for a moment by Javan’s snappishness. Well – better to be useful somewhere. She’d only pulled a shawl around her shoulders over her shift when she’d been woken, so she hurried back to the women’s quarters to put on some more useful clothing. She pulled a dress over her head, and after brief consideration decided to pull on Léof’s old trousers that she’d arrived in as well. All told, dressing only cost her a few minutes’ delay, though in that time several others had been recruited to the stables and she followed them out. Léof spotted her almost immediately. “Do you need something?” he asked. “No, I’m here to help,” she said. Seeing his look, she added, “Javan said to come.” If anything, his frown deepened, but he had better things to do than argue. “He’s in the tack room,” Léof said, gesturing. “You can help him bring the harnesses for the carts out. I was about to bring out the first horses…” his voice trailed off as he remembered she’d come out with several others who also needed instruction. He addressed the small group. “The horses in these first four stalls need to be harnessed.” He considered for a moment. The carts had been left alongside the stables; there had used to be an awning there but it had been used for firewood like so many other structures that winter. “A few of you go out and see how stuck the carts are and whether they can be brought around, or if we’ll need to hitch the horses directly out there to pull them out.” The men dispersed, and when Léof turned back to Cerwyn he found that she had disappeared as well, hopefully to find Javan as he'd said. He’d barely gotten one of the horses out of its stall and clipped him into the aisle to be harnessed when one of the men who’d gone outside to check on the wagons returned. “The ground’s so wet the wheels have sunk straight into the mud,” he reported. Léof sighed. “I guess we’ll see what happens when we get the horses hitched then,” he said.

03-07-2016, 01:35 PM	#3
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,547	"And if you are done listening in on my conversations, perhaps you could tell me how best I can help," Scyld answered in the same tone. He glanced around: people were either milling around in confusion or dashing about chaotically, and he wasn't sure any of them really knew what was going on. He didn't.

03-12-2016, 03:13 PM	#5
Folwren Messenger of Hope Join Date: Jun 2005 Location: In a tiny, insignificant little town in one of the many States. Posts: 5,076	It was hard working in the dark and streaming rain. Javan didn’t have an extra hand to push away the streaming locks of hair out of his eyes as he and several others scrambled in the rising water to get long, stout pieces of wood underneath the wheels of the wagons. Before they were done, other men were leading the horses out with the traces and collars already on them. The water surged around the horses’ knees as they plowed through. “This your idea?” Javan asked as he and the new minstrel fellow worked side by side at the last wheel. “Aye,” Balan replied. “Hope it works,” Javan muttered. He sloshed through the mud and water toward the tongue of the wagon. The horses were backed into places, looking about them nervously, but holding their alarm in check admirably. Javan and the others worked quickly in fastening the traces to the wagon tongue. “All ready?” Javan asked as he buckled the last clasp. “All ready,” came the reply. Javan gathered the reins and stood by the near horse’s flank while the other men hurried around to the back of the wagon and to the wheels. They set their hands and backs against it. Javan slapped the reins along the horse’s back, and shouted to the horses. The horses leaned into the collars and heaved. The men gasped as they put all of their effort into the pushing. For one long, horrible moment, nothing happened. The horses strained, their hooves sinking deep into the wet, oozing ground. Then, with a sucking sound and a surge of water, the wagon moved. It rose out of its watery bed, rolled over the wood Javan and the others had put in place. There was a halfhearted cheer as it sloshed out to the main courtyard in front of the hall.