Carmichael Village Square
You stand in the center of a quaint little country village, nestled in the foothills of the Western Mountains. There are a few shops surrounding the square, including Isfar’s blacksmith shop to the east, which is ringing with the sound of iron-on-iron. To the southwest is a small tavern, which smells of good home-cooked food. There is a traveller’s shelter to the northwest with a sign over the door that reads “Carmichael Lodge”. There is also a shop to the northeast, and two others, to the southeast and to the west, respectively. In the midst of the square stands a a stone well.
The main road heads south toward the settlement, a collection of humble, neatly-kept homes to the southwest of the main town.
Romney steps from the inn, looking around at the square.
Lanisen leaves the tavern, resituating his satchel over his shoulder.
Harmonia comes along the road from the settlement, toy bow in hand.
Romney looks up. “Afternoon, Lanisen.”
Lanisen steps in a slushy puddle of snowmelt and makes a sour face. “Ugh,” he says. “Afternoon, R…oman?”
Romney says, “Romney.”
Lanisen says, “Oh. Sorry. Romney. Hello.”
Harmonia skips along, holding a toy bow, as she makes her way up the road. “Ello, mister. ‘Ello mister Lanisen.”
Romney glances to the side. “And little Miss Harmonia. How are you?”
Lanisen grins, making a small polite bow toward the girl. “Afternoon, miss.”
Harmonia says, “‘m, well, thank ye.””
Romney tries to work out a crick in his neck. “Think I slept wrong.” He claps his hands together to warm them. “Bit crisp out here, isn’t it? Maybe go into the tavern?”
Lanisen agrees, “It’s decently warm in there.” He makes a face and looks down at his boot. “There still a cobbler around here? Only I’m pretty sick of sloshy socks.”
Romney says, “Don’t rightly know. Was wondering if there was a place to sell these hides.”
Lanisen scratches his head. “Can’t help you there,” he admits. “Ain’t too familiar with this area anymore. Um. Williard won’t take ’em?” He pauses. “Is it still Williard, even?”
Romney looks to Harmonia for a response.
Harmonia says, “Can we go in where it’s warm? I’m huuungry. Paw said I could buy myself a snack.”
Romney says, “Oh right.”
Harmonia steps from one foot to the other impatiently.
Lanisen touches an invisible hat. “Just ate,” he says apologetically. “I’m gonna hunt for a cobbler. Good luck with your pelts, Romney.”
Romney says, “Yeah, thanks”
Harmonia waves to Lanisen. “Bye, Mr Lanisen. Good luck.”