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The Heartwood
Bordertown
Dawn
Ramaday the First of Wolf ... and days beyond ...

Daxia, Darian, Cesare, Bekkah, Mikal, Dean, Kadri and Romana and ...

Dawn came early, cold, with a light rain, with the far horizon a mottled study in gray.

And before the dawn, even earlier. Simply because, to leave at dawn, when the town gates first open, one must get up even earlier; and earlier still when one has last minute merchanting to do, a warm breakfast to fortify one against the wolfish days, to gather horses and gear from the stable, to pay last respects to the barkeep and his daughters.

And to say good bye.

"I'm staying here ..."

That was Camelia Koromov's quiet morning greeting. Of course something was up; for she was the only one to show up before dawn in just tunic and surcoat; no cloak, no boots - bare feet - no bedroll ... not even a plate of bread and cheese for her breakfast.

"Garrick says there could be a place on the Thing for me; especially if they call another before the Mark returns.

"Which would certainly happen if I chose to stay."

She took a deep deep breath.

"I am, at heart, townsfolk, I think.

"I think we have discovered I am useless on the trail. And understanding one's limitations is a good place to start, when rebuilding one's life."

She then offers a small smile.

"Besides, the night the avatar fell, we discovered the sheriff and we actually work well together. Gatekeepers of Jagnar do not fall off of roofs accidentally."

The other one, among the missing in the morning, was Romana. Missing, at least, until the middle of breakfast. Then she appeared at the door, a dark shadow wrapped in her cloak and hood. She leaned, quiet, looking in on the others, so tentative. For a long set of heartbeats she was just quiet, watching the others.

"Harrys saids, if Romanas would stay, Harrys would make sure no one would ever hurt her.

"Harry says, Heavy Horse owes Romanas.

"Harry says ... he even could come to likes Romanas."

There was a soft blush at that, hinted in the shadows of her hood. The slender Easterner looks back over her shoulder, for a moment. Silent. Remembering what having a home was like.

She didn't speak for another long while.

"Romanas tell Harrys ...

"Romanas never have friends before."

She walked quietly forward, to sit on the bench next to Bekkah. She then looked up and down the table curiously.

"Can someones pass Romanas a muffles?"



*******************************************



On the way out, a saddle picked was picked up. As well as a shield. And a unicorn.

The unicorn looked between Daxia, Romana, and her white mare. Morning Star just shook his head and whuffled.

At the gate, no toll was charged ... the town still under Marrennen's Gift.

Into the gray morning, in the gray rain, the small group headed west.

And not alone.

At the same time a rather homely looking man was also making his way south. While this group was a motley collection of horses of various types, a black unicorn and a snarkhound and some also on foot, her was all alone, except for a load of fire wood on his back. Which he carried as if it were an everyday thing.

It is just that also leaving Bordertown at dawn, and also heading west, it's very hard not to walk together.




*******************************************




The Highland Path is an interesting trail. This far out, it is little more than a twin stripe of hardened dirt that sometimes vanishes for a while; sometime a few hundred yards, sometimes a day or two. But it is easily found again, if one chooses the path of least resistance heading, in general, west.

To the north and south, here and there - and sometimes along the trail itself - are smaller clusters of woods, little copses, as if they were dashed across the farmfields like seeds broadcast in the spring. No big woods, but lots of little and tiny ones. Just like the streams. Criss crossing the land is a network of small cricks and streamlets and one cannot walk a day without crossing over two or three or four. Fresh, clean water is the least of one's problems here. Most are so small they can be stepped across, the next might need a hop, anything more has gotten a bridge of some sort, be it a set of heavy planks or a small arch of stone. Some days at one of the little bridges the small group stalls, for it is tradition of those traveling to keep the little crossings in good repair. Their other companion were the huge stones scattered hither and you. Some were so massive it took all day to ride about them, some small enough to use as chairs for lunch. But they were always there, within sight.

As one left Bordertown there were little stone markers, on the side of the trail, with a single carven number upon them. They seemed to be regularly placed, with the numbers descending as one moved west. After a few days they vanished - but not completely. Every now and then there would be one beside the path again. After a few weeks they became a hint of what was ahead. Where there were no markers there was nothing but farm fields. When they showed up regularly, one was closer to a small village.

The days were getting longer, as one got father west. The nights were tallied by taverns and farmer's houses - day's travel inns, a friendly farmer, sometimes a true tavern and smithy surrounded by a couple of homes; this was as large as villages got out here in the middle of nowhere. Time could be marked by the tavern's names. Five Day's Out, Greystone Market, No More Griffons, The White Cup, Mari's Place, MacMurphy's Tavern, No Merebeasts Allowed, Hanson's farm ... day by day, night by night.

Their only other constant companion, to the south, was an occasional glimpse of wildflowers, a small path of them paralleling the Highland Path.

It got closer to the trail, day by day, as one got nearer and nearer to the crossing of the Silk Creek Ravine.

Kadri:

She rides up to the unknown traveller.

"Ho, stranger, my name is Kadri, now that I am no longer a stranger to you, perhaps I can gain your name and you will no longer be a stranger to me."

((OOC: Greetings all, and Wolf after that remark I was sorely tempted to not speak a word to anyone for a long as possible, just always be there, silently - but that wouldn't be neighborly))

Jankin:

"Well met, Kadri. I am Jankin."

He doesn't quite smile, but his brown eyes warm before he sets them back on the path before his feet. It doesn't seem like he's being rude, so much as that he's not used to talking much. His words are slowly paced and he's got a slight accent. The 'W' has a soft buzz in it, The 'J' sounds more like a 'Y', and the 'A' in both names sounds like 'Ah'.

Homely is a kind way to describe his appearance. His sloped forehead is accentuated by a pronounced brow ridge, his nose is wide and flat, his eyes close together, and he's got very little chin. His posture is slightly stooped, though that might be because of his load of wood. Not heavily muscled, still his frame seems sturdy enough for a common man, and he walks like one well-used to the road.

(Kah dree)
She definitely has an exotic accent.

"What brings you along this road, if I might ask, as we appear to be traveling it together for a time."

(Accent is somewhat like this actress) http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=lziPoX3VBao&feature=plpp

At the moment, she does not seem to be even trying to disguise it.

Jankin:

He walks for a little, as if pondering her question. He then speaks in something of a sing-song, as if reciting a poem, maybe even translating it from another tongue.

"I am on this road because it is what is taking me from where I was to where I am going. It was time to leave where I was, and go in search of where I will some day be. I do not know what that place is, but have no doubt I will when I arrive."

Pausing to take a breath, reconciled to the fact that a conversation is going to occur, he asks...

"What is your tale?"

Daxia
earlier in the day, at the time of muffles

Daxia smiled at Camelia, when the time came for her to explain her staying.

“It does seem a good match for you, Camelia... all of it.” The Dayalan studied the youngest Koromov for a moment, then nodded. “It looks like you found yourself, your place, and a good partner. I rather like Garrick, as does your sister, so I am probably not out of line in thanking you on her behalf and as well as my own for your part in seeing to that particular individual’s tumble off a roof.

“Happiness is sometimes a rare commodity, but I hope you find it here, Camelia.”

A bit later, Daxia watched Romana as the Easterner stood hesitantly in the doorway. Watched... and listened. When Romana sat down across the table, she presented her friend with not one, but two muffles.

“Maybe Harry say he like Romana someday,” Dazi said with a smile and a merry twinkle in her blue eyes, “but DaziDaziDaziDazi already like Romana today. And yesterday. And for many days. DaziDaziDaziDazi very glad for friend called Romana.”

And later still, when a certain black unicorn made his feelings known about an Easterner friend and her pretty white mare, his partner just smiled and patted his neck. After mounting, she leaned down and whispered to him, “Your name is longer.”

Then, later still again, after passing through the Bordertown gate, the group came across a solitary traveler... as each of them had been at one or another point in their journeys.

The woman sitting astride the unicorn wore a fine Kierkegaard cloak with the hood pulled up, though tuffs of red hair could easily be seen framing her face. Even without speaking a word by which to place her accent, it would be a fair and reasonable deduction for anyone to make that she hailed from the Vale beyond Snowgate Pass known as Dawnview, high up in the Black Mountains.

Odd, though, that one so obviously a follower of Dayala — though a sword could not be seen beneath the cloak, the spurs on her boots were plain to see, and there was the whole matter of the unicorn — traveled in the company of both a Jvrillian and a Squire of Rames.

She merely observed the conversation between Kadri and Jankin, until the momentary lull.

“Jankin... Jankin... Jankin...” she said softly and slowly, almost as if tasting the word... though, in fact, she was attempting to match his pronunciation of name. The initial ‘Y’ sound came easily, and though the ‘A’ was not quite as broad as the man pronounced it, she was close.

“Well met, Jankin, who speaks words that sound familiar to my ears, though more lyrical.” The redhead turned to the woman walking beside the snarkhound. “Jankin, Darian look for place, not know where, know when find. Dazi think... good.” She turned back to the newcomer — now no longer a stranger — and smiled; even the gray morning did not manage to dampen her spirits, though everything else was damp enough. “I am Daxia,” she said. The ‘A’ sound that she had managed with Jankin’s name was precisely the sound in the first and last syllables of her name, and the middle syllable stressed with a strong ‘Z’, though the ‘EE’ was not pure, sounding almost like a diphthong... no doubt a result of the accent of those from so high in the Black Mountains.

“A tale such as ours requires, I think, a hot fire and mugs of ale or cider. For a stroll through a gray morning, perhaps introductions would be a good beginning, yah? It’s nice, I think, to know your fellow travelers.”

Without regard for rank, merely proximity it seemed, she gave to their fellow traveler the names of those in the party.

“You have already met Kadri. There we have Darian and Cesare, with Longtooth. Bekkah... Dean...” He was finely arrayed in the raiment of a Squire of Rames. “Mikal...” She had to twist to see the last member of their party. “Ah... Romana.” Turning back to Jankin, Daxia said, “Our Romana is a little shy.” She grinned broadly. “Not so for Daxia,” she said, chuckling.

“And this...” She ran her fingers through the unicorn’s mane, combing out a small tangle. “...this is Morning Star.” The last was said with a tone that might give the impression that meeting Morning Star was assuredly one of the most wonderful things to have happened in her life.


[OOC: Would you like Bing and Bob to sing us a traveling theme song? I’ve watched all those movies, though I’ll grant that it’s been decades. I think my favorite was Road to Morocco. I may not filk as prolifically as you do, O Wolf, but my filks are considerably more bizarre. Who else would write a song about a printer/copier in the early 80s to the tune of The First Noel? That’s exactly right... nobody.

P.S. Welcome, Owain!! ]

Bekkah

When they had a time and the man wasn't being questioned by the others, a blond haired woman descended from her horse to greet the man. No, not merely a woman, this was clearly a Lady. An Atteran.

She greeted him with a lovely smile. And while she had a similar accent to the redhead atop the unicorn, it was far less pronounced. While she wore the white of a Lady of Attera, she also had a nice pair of boots that looked reasonably new, but little else of value and certainly no weapons.

"Greetings. I am Bekkah, I see that you have already met my baby sister with her most impressive steed."

[OOC Welcome Owain! ]


Cesare {Pronounced Chez-are-ay]



Cesare is obviously Rhoni. The only thing odd about that is that Rhoni inevitably travel with other Rhoni, keeping themselves distant from non-Rhoni unless they need something. There is a possible explanation for the observant as, although he and Darian do not act as obvious lovers whilst travelling, there is something between the two that suggests a more intimate relationship.

He generally spends his time with Darian and Longtooth, checking out areas that fall ahead and to the side of their route, maybe checking for tracks, certainly foraging from time to time, sometimes engaging in games with Longtooth. Like Jankin, they too are on foot.

When introduced by Daxia, he nods politely but does not attempt to converse further.

[OOC Is Kadri's 'beloved' with us? ]

Mikal

Having picked up his shield he spent much of the predawn hours with Talia, getting her ready for the road as well as obtaining trail rations for the group. As such, he missed the conversation with Romana, only seeing her when the rest of the group shows up for their mounts and ready for the road. He greets everyone pleasantly and leads the way out of the city and onto the road west.

He eyes the man who joins them shortly after leaving town, but seeing no threat he simply nods to him and continues on their way west. He keeps an eye on their back-trail, looking for signs they are being followed, although he suspects that if the man Darian warned about is good, his picking up a sign is not likely.

As they travel they come closer and closer to his regular "working" area and the signs and villages become more and more familiar. At several villages he greets villagers by name, offering some of the sweets he purchased in Bordertown to some of the children who come, mostly to stare at Daxia's Unicorn.

At some point on the road he finds a few minutes to talk to the man who has now traveled with them for days.

"Jankin." He says simply. "My name is Mikal D'Allyne."

Jankin sees a man in his mid twenties with dark brown hair, edging towards black, worn long in a pony tail. His green eyes shiow intelligence, but also an underlying sadness. He is relatively tall, at 6', and muscularly lean at about 180lbs. His wide shoulders bear his leather armour, and his walk is extremely graceful. He bears a light crossbow on his back as well as a short sword with a finely ornamented grip and decorated scabbard on one hip, and a long Main Gauche on the other. He rides a Silver Bay, Crusader, 14 hands tall, Jankin has heard him call Talia. On the horse's flanks rest a sheathed broadsword and a medium sized shield, with a newly painted device.

"It is nice to meet you, and your company is welcome."

He gestures to the load of firewood the man carries and then at a nearby copse of trees. "Curious about your burden. Wood, in this direction of travel, is not that hard to find. Do you mind if I ask why you are carrying it?"

[OOC Ahhh! Thanks, memory reinstated ]

[[Good Gracious, that's a lot of introductions. Thanks so much for the warm greeting, both in and out of character. I suspect I'll be spending a few hours this weekend going back through the copious encyclopedia Wolf provided to figure out just who everyone is...]]

Jankin:

(presumably after the conversation with Kadri is finished)

As Daxia introduces each member, his eyes go to them, and he answers Cesare's nod with one of his own. He also nods gravely towards Morning Star, acknowledging the import of the steed to the woman who is speaking.

"It happens I have a bit of firewood on hand."

Again the almost-but-not-quite smile.

"For the cider, I've spices that may please."

Here he pats a well-packed pouch hanging across one shoulder.

***

(To Bekkah)

"She introduced the others. A strong band you have, able to protect yourselves. It is good not to be worried on the road."

***

(To Mikal)

"Yes. Well met. My thanks."

He walks for a moment in silence.

"I am in part a carver of wood. Always I watch for likely pieces as my day goes along. At the end, I choose what will be kept and made use of. The rest serves to build my fire."

***

Over the course of the day he does at times step off the road and examine fallen wood, picking some to add to his burden, leaving others behind. In addition, on and off, it seems as if he is humming, or sometimes muttering under his breath, in a tuneful and absent-minded way.

((Hope we can keep all the conversations straight!))

This reminds me of one of my favorite radio serials:

Captain Kremmen to Captain Kremmen, in the Bionic Double arc:

"Won't this confuse the listeners?"

"Anyone who listens to this is mad anyways!"

The Heartwood
Bordertown
Midday
Attaday the Eighth of Horse

Daxia, Darian, Cesare, Bekkah, Mikal, Dean, Kadri, Romana and Jankin

OOC Note: The date above is to simply to indicate how far down the trail you had gotten at the end of the previous travelogue post and the end of this one.

... previous lunchtime greetings ...

From atop her white mare, the slender lass in cloak and hood carefully adjusted her hood to shelter her face even more.

" ... shy shy shy ... yes yes yes ..."

Was her reply, seeming both truly reclusive and perhaps more than a little simple. for a long long while, as they traveled together, Jankin could feel her eyes on him; nothing threatening.

In fact, as if it was she who was worried; against a simple woodcarver, of all people.

The horses they traveled with, now from the white mare to the black unicorn, they were fine beasts. Even the Jvrillian's scruffy looking mount. The unicorn, he too would occasionally eye the newcomer and then simply toss his head with a shake of his long mane.

... down the trail ...

Slowly, day byday it is not just the grays of Bordertown that are left behind. Once past MacMurphy's Tavern something else changed. Browns were slowly replaced by soft greens and the harsh winter rains became a welcome warm morning shower. The bite was gone from the breeze, instead her light warmed the trail and by noon it actually became ... hot.

Hot enough for a hood do come down, and a cloak opened, to reveal ...

Nothing too out of the ordinary. The shy girl had very long black hair, blue eyes and if anything probably needed more time out in the sun for her skin was almost porcelain fair. She even sheltered herself against the spring, though, her winter hood replaced with a floppy hat.

A very proper country girl, except her hands looked as if she hadn't done a lick of work in her life.

And sometimes, sometimes after washing her hair - which she usually did at night - there was a sable stain in the water.

... and into Horse ...

"Romanas nevers ..."

Indeed, the last few days the travel may have been a bit slower than normal, as the broken-spoken lass had developed a tendency to pause, to look all around, to ride off the trail a bit in a sudden look and see.

" ... have never been anywheres where Romanas could not see ..."

And it was true ... this far west ...

" ... mountains."

... they had finally faded beyond the rolling fields of the western horizon.

(I was sorta waiting to see if ividia wanted to chime in)

"You are of mountains, Romanas. For me ... This is more like where I began. Where you can see all, and all can see you - unless you are very good at not being seen."

"Jankin, if I may, I am curious more about where you are from, as we now know to where you are going. My from, is always and ever the plains of Amber, may it never again be to."

Jankin seemed slightly hesitant, but only for a moment, and then spoke deliberately.

"I am of the forest, the deep woods. I live among the trees and live off of nature's bounty. Skins from the animals I trap I use to make gloves, belts and bags to sell in the towns, along with my wooden carvings. It is simple, my life, but it is mine."

He looked about.

"This is quite different from anything I have ever seen. It unnerves me some."

Kadri;

She nods.

"I can't say my life is simple, but it is also mine. But while it may sometimes seem unnerving out here, it is also marvelous. Something new over the next hill, a sunrise, a sunset, a thunderstorm - without the new there is stagnation, clouds cover the sun and the new dawn never comes."

Jankin nodded gravely.

"Change is inevitable. In time, it is also to be seen as a good thing, even when not in the moment."

Mikal

He seems to watch Jankin even more carefully when he mentions he is from the deep woods. He has now run into 2 people who claimed to be from the depths of the woods. One turned out to be a witch and the other, well she has something in common with him. So there's no telling which side of the aisle Jankin will fall. However his answers thus far tend to fall more into the dissembling of Celi than the straightforwardness of Darian.

He shakes his head at Jankin's last comment. "Not sure I agree. Oh, certainly change is inevitable, but in my life I have found that change is usually good only for a few, and those few usually benefit from it by the blood and tears of others. People who go to their graves cursing that very same change."

Jankin:

"It is agreed that not everyone will see the good in the change. Difficult it is to say whether people will have died in another way entirely if that change had not come, but my belief is we go when we go. Stagnation is less preferred to change, for me."

Daxia

Daxia had smiled at Romana’s wonder of the openness, the ability to see so far without a mountain in sight.

“DaziDaziDaziDazi never been where mountains not seen, either. More Dazi have in common with Romi, yah?” She looked at Romana, a half smile on her face. “Romana miss mountains like Dazi miss mountains?”

It would have become obvious within a few days that the Dayalan changed her speech pattern depending on who she was presently conversing with. With Romana and — sometimes — with Bekkah, she reverted to her native Dawnview cadence and accent, which included the dropping of unnecessary words. With Darian, even more words were dropped, leaving only the bare essentials to convey an idea. With everyone else, her speech pattern was quite ordinary, though it still echoed with the pronunciations found in the Vale. On rare occasions, however, when speaking with Dean or Bekkah, even the accent faded and she sounded almost... courtly.

And the intensity with which she observed the conversation between Mikal and Jankin would be something perhaps unnerving at first, though after more than a fullhand, it would become just another oddity about the woman who carried a sword and rode a unicorn... neither of which was particularly usual, either.

“I have seen change, though unlike you, Mikal, most has been for the better.” Daxia shrugged. “From where you began your travels, you would find more change for the worse. From where I began my travels...” She smiled. “Really, anything would have been possible. And whether change is for the better or not depends, I think, on perspective. In Cragside, I was most certainly not happy with being part of the element of change, but now I see it was a good thing.

“In Bordertown — or rather, outside Bordertown — there was nothing but good that could come from our deeds there.” She raised an eyebrow. “Though there are those who would find that change more unpleasant than any change you saw in your travels.” Again, the Dayalan shrugged. “Perspective.”

She patted Morning Star’s neck as she continued. “Being who we are, it would seem change — change that makes a difference in other’s lives as well as our own — is inevitable. The goal, then, is to make the change most beneficial to as many of those others as possible, da?”

Jankin:

"Is there a greater good than the good of the biggest group of others? The wishes of the Gods? Something beyond even them? I have wondered at times if the world around us, the heavens and the waters and the winds, have a good that is best for them that we cannot comprehend."

Mikal

He listens to Daxia, then Jankin, and grunts. "I don't worry about all that. To me the goodness of a long day working the field, bringing in a good crop, helping to birth a calf. The goodness of a full belly after a happy meal with your family, laughing together at silly jokes and falling exhausted into bed knowing you had a day that most others would turn their noses up at but was an honest day's work. That is goodness I would accept never changing."

He glances at Daxia, then Jankin. "Instead I find myself bathed in the blood of others. A taker of life instead of a giver of joy. When I bring change to a place it means people die. I am sorry if I'd be happier bringing that kind of change less often."