DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games HWD: The Heartwood HWD: Talesan's Village Morning - Cesare

The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
Fields beyond the Amber Inn
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Scholar

Cesare
Rory and Twls

By the time Cesare had found the brewer both he and his daughter were frantically searching the grassy fields northwest of the tavern. The land here was slightly hilly, the fields separated by carefully stacked stones and a waist high hedgerow. A fullhand of feet to the south the grass gave way to the pavement blocks, the border not at all even, swooping in and out in gentle, natural curves.

“Dydd!” “Dyddplentyn!”

Both father and daughter called for the lost girl.

The border between the stone and soil was the most traveled; a footway lead westerly, towards the dock and one of the town’s wells. Rory and Twls were looking near the hedgerow, probably because a wooden bucked rested in their shadow and the ground about looked damp.

Rory looked up to the Rhoni, the first help he seems to have gotten.

“We can’t find her. And the bushes seem roughed up here. Thank goodness. For help, that is.”

The brewer bit his lip and stood straighter.

“Twls, run to the Cathedral and get Sir Kevin. Maybe he can help.”

He waited for Twls to get out of earshot before he turned to Cesare.

“I’m going to look this-a-way.”

He pointed east.

“If a Forest critter got her, that’s where it would take her. Back to the Forest.

“Can you look that-a-way?”

He indicated the area further towards the town, in the direction of the well.

Rhoni eye are sharp. They are used to finding signs – although normally they are the sigils left by his kin to say they had been by, to warn of trouble, to confirm that a farmer is friendly or not, or to suggest a safer route.

And there, in the hedges, heading down towards the seaside cliffs, there may be the flutter of a scrap of cloth... perhaps a little girl’s ribbon.

Cesare

"Deep breath.."

He advises in a kindly fashion his eyes scanning around.

"If she was taken by a forest creature, there would be more signs, blood maybe? Good news is there isn't."

He needs to get the father thinking, moving away from the natural panic he is obviously feeling.

"I see something there.."

He points to the fluttering scrap.

"Need you to say if it is hers. If it is we have a direction."

He starts to push his way through to the ribbon.

The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
Fields beyond the Amber Inn
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Scholar

Cesare and Rori

“Aye, aye... unless a tree got her. But we keep this area pretty well clear, burning out the little saplings every Spring to make sure the forest stays where it’s supposed to.”

Rory stood, looking off to the north and the line of green that was the horizon.

He then crouched, looking through the grass for any disturbance or sign. He continued his quest until Cesare called for him. Then he came running, as quick as he could. From the hedge he took the scrap of cloth, ran it through his fingers.

“This is Dyddplentyn’s. She likes ribbons.”

He looked back the way they came, towards the Inn and then towards the town.

“This is nae good.”

The innkeeper pointed behind them.

“Home is back there. And the well...”

He simply turned a little bit, but still pointing in the way they had come.

“Is back there. For the ribbon to be lost here.”

He paused, looking at the hedge very closely and then turned completely around.

“It means she was heading away from home; away from the well, and that she’d loose a ribbon, like this. I donnae like to even think.

“Cor – come on, laddie.”

Rory took off, heading in general to the west, along the line of hedges; taking a path that made a straight line between the well and the ribbon and the coast. He didn’t stop; he didn’t stop until he came to the very edge of the cliffs. The cliffs were broken stone, grey and rugged, huge scales of rocks that plunged down from the overlook to the churning sea below. Frantically Rory walked the edge of the cliffs, first in one direction than the other.

If Dydd had fallen, it was straight down to the sea, how could here be a sign.

But still Rory looked.

And then he stopped. He had paused in a small break in the storm worn boulders. He motioned Cesare over.

There, between the stones, a narrow path was cut. It was no more than three feet wide, at most, and it rippled down the face of the cliffs. It was a descending trail, tight to the face of the rock that moved towards the sea in a southerly direction...

Back towards the village or, more specifically, back towards the docks.

From here, Cesare could see the silhouette of the docks. They cut straight out towards the sea and with the tide out their sheer sides could be seen.

Except they were not sheer.

They were definitely carved, definitely constructed, as if he were looking at the side of a massive manor or building, perhaps as tall as the Bordertown ruins, a façade crafted of columns and recesses. Indeed, the pier seemed to rise from a terrace of sort, which was only just above the low tide mark.

At the top of the trail, where they stood, Cesare noticed that the dirt and some pebble had been scuffed aside, as if a small person had not wanted to be taken down that rough trail.

Cesare

He follows the innkeeper, his eyes scanning sharply, looking for any sign of deviation.. but he sees none. Reaching the cliffs, he looks over his eyes diverted by Rory pointing out a path and there he saw further signs.

"Aye she was taken this way."

In the back of his mind he files away that comment about trees. Not the right time to be asking that.

"Follow or head straight for the dock?"

Local knowledge might help here.

The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
Cliffside and the Terrace
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Scholar

Cesare and Rory

“Towards the docks... the first homes between here and there are good folks; they’d know to send Dydd home if she got lost.”

Rory stood at the top of the stairs, expression set and stern.

“And if she was taken this way, laddie, like ye said... well, that’s the way we need to be going.”

The path descended down across the cliff face. The fact that there was no railing or wall on the seawards side was unnerving, but it did seem both sturdy enough and wide enough for relatively safe passage.

The tricky part was that the damp air left the treads and risers slick, making one’s footing unreliable. Perhaps not a matter for a person used to wave soaked docks or the deck of a ship, but for a farmer?

Rory hugged the inside of the stairs very, very closely.

Slowly they made their way down to that flat terrace. And once they stood there, the familiarity struck Cesare hard. It was not as if he had ever been here before, but where he stood as very recognizable. It was almost, no, exactly like Cesare was standing on the street of a very large town... like Talantal, perhaps, if one side of the street were the ocean and on the other the houses were ranked tight about each other. And three stories up, there was a solid stone roof – supported by the regular rows of columns half buried in the building fronts – over everything.

Talesan’s Village was built on the top of that roof... even the Cathedral.

Looking into the water, which was clear and still, Cesare could see that the terrace fell away into the depths in two, maybe three, deep and wide steps.

It reminded him of Bordertown.

There were rectangular openings in the side of the carved city wall... door openings perhaps, windows too. Anything of wood or glass had been worn away by the violent tide generations ago; only stone was left.

Except in one location.

Set between two wide pilasters was a true and actual door. It was made of metal, or at the least it appeared to be. It had a massive latch, almost the size of an oar, in a vertical position, centered beneath an equally large metal pull bar that ran horizontally across the width of the door.

The door did not seem to match the age of the water soaked ruins; it seemed more recent.

Upon close inspection, it looked to fit within its carved frame very, very tightly. Rory placed a hand on its metal surface.

“Beneath our inn we have a very old bath.

“The Cathedral has its Catacombs.

“What are the fisher folk hiding beneath their docks?”

Cesare

He had seen nothing to suggest that the girl had left this path and frankly the path is hard enough to follow even when willing. He takes a moment to look around to see if there is further evidence of her presence, if not then this door might offer the best opportunity.

"Think we should try inside?"

He is not sure if there is likely to be danger. The innkeeper seems to think this belongs to fishermen but he can't see why they would take the girl. He wishes he had his crossbow but he is armed of course, never goes anywhere with his daggers even though there is no sign of them.

The Heartwood
Talesan’s Village
Under the Docks
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Scholar

Cesare and Rory

Cesare’s weapons felt both comfortable and necessary down here, before these strange metal doors. That the innkeeper suspected the fishermen, well, it made a little bit of sense. The trail of ribbons had lead to here and this was below their docks, as much as the baths belonged to the Amber Inn.

And the father was not to be stopped. If there was a chance his daughter was on the other side, there would be no stopping him. He took the big horizontal bar and pulled – and nothing happened. He pounded on the bronze panels, hard and harsh. Leaning on the vertical latch it started to rotate, and pushing it until it too was horizontal rewarded the pair with a solid metallic thunk.

Then the door pulled open.

The morning light was above the cliffs, so the opening beyond was cast in shadow. The walls were black and grey; if they were some color, the dim illumination hid that fact. It was apparent, however, that the big door opened to a small room, perhaps a tall person long and ending at a door.

Interestingly, it was the exact same kind of door they had just opened. It was a strange vestibule set into the tall stone wall.

Rory shook his head and strode forward.

This time, it took both of them to pull the door open.

Beyond was a rectangle of black.

After a while – the time it took for one’s eyes to adjust, to look down the hall – they could see that it was a tall rectangle, bordered on both sides by tight-fitting, mortarless blocks. The floor was damp, but just damp. The pattern of moist and dry on the polished tile floor was similar to footsteps and the occasional streak of someone being dragged. The ceiling was no more than ten feet high.

Looking over his shoulder, Cesare noted that they were being pursued. But since one was tall and one was short, it was probably Kadri and Mikal.

Ahead, the corridor went forward for about ten feet, with an opening on the left. Beyond, another ten feet of passageway could be seen.

Cesare

He is glad that his friends are almost here. He has no idea what they are facing and whatever it or they are, he and the father could easily be overwhelmed. He tries for caution, knowing that time could also be vital.

Keeping his voice to a whisper to speaks to the distraught father.

"Two of the group I travel with are almost here. I suggest I check the floor ahead and we let them catch up?"