ridiculous


Kennels
Castle Anvard


The kennel of Anvard is a fairly spacious room, well-lit by the windows in the south wall looking toward the Outer Ward. It is immediately obvious that the hounds housed here are quite well-treated: the floor is kept clean-swept; the blankets padding the dogs’ wooden beds are thick and warm; and the hounds themselves have a certain sleek, well-fed look. Several pens can be seen toward the back of the room, likely used to isolate dogs that are sick, injured, or in need of further training, but the majority of the castle hounds are allowed to roam freely about the room.

A fireplace, lit on cold days, is set into the east wall, opposite the door to the quarters of Danall, the Master of Hounds. A set of wooden stairs leads up to a second level.


Lanisen sits on the floor against the east wall late in the evening, buried in hounds. There’s one flopped across his lap, another two curled up and snoozing next to him, and a fourth sitting and getting her ears rubbed. Lanisen doesn’t look too bothered by his predicament.

Arael peeks her head in the door and looks around. When she catches sight of Lanisen, she grins and steps all the way in, shutting the door behind her.

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apples and oranges


Stable
Castle Anvard


You stand in the Anvard Stable. All around you are stalls and equipment. There are horses of all colors, but all are high caliber. The far wall is hung with saddles, bridles, stirrups and other tack. There is fresh straw in every stall and buckets for water are hung on hooks. There are several special stalls for visiting talking horses. The floor is hardpacked dirt.


Lanisen makes his way up the stable’s alley with the aid of a stout stick, heading for a stall containing a tall gray gelding. He’s limping and leaning heavily on the cane, but seems to be getting along quite well. Once he reaches the stall, he transfers his weight to the stall door and sets his cane aside, murmuring quietly to the horse inside, which is really more interested in whether or not he’s got any apples.

Tyren slips into the stable with a hand behind his back – it could be presumed that whether Lanisen does or not, /Tyren/ certainly has apples – and moves to greet his horse with a pat, which is returned by a pleasant whicker. “Well hello, old friend.”

Lanisen starts slightly at the voice and turns to look for the source. He settles his weight carefully and dips a bow, holding to the stall door with his left hand.

Continue reading apples and oranges

tectonic shift


Lanisen’s Quarters
Castle Anvard


You stand in a cozy room. A small arched window adorns the curving outer wall. One corner of the space holds a narrow bed with warm woolen blankets. Nearby are a basin and pitcher for cleaning up. A rug covers part of the floor, adding warmth. It looks like a comfortable place for Lanisen to live.


Someone starts pounding on Lanisen’s door.

There’s a bit of a scuffle from inside, then wary silence. After a moment there’s a tapping noise crossing the room, then the door opens a crack and Lanisen looks out.

Colin stands outside, tapping his thighs nervously. He takes one look at Lanisen. “You coulda just called out…”

Lanisen lets out a breath, standing aside to let Colin in. “Landsakes,” he says, exasperated and shaken despite himself. “Where’s the fire.”

Continue reading tectonic shift

proper introduction


Stable
Castle Anvard


The stables of Anvard are not large, but they are well-ordered and tidy. The wide alley runs parallel to the outside wall, with generously sized box stalls on either side. Many hold permanent residents, with the horse’s name on a wooden sign above the stall door, but several stand empty to receive visitors. The hard-packed dirt floor is kept well swept, and the stalls are clean, but there is a pervading smell of horse and hay that is not entirely unpleasant.

There is a small paddock in the east corner of the stable, and the far west end is devoted to tack storage and maintenance. A door in the west wall, kept closed most of the time, leads to the smithy.


Lanisen sits outside Maestro’s stall with his back to the door and his stick at his side. His sling is off, and he has the book about Narnia open in his lap, braced against his updrawn right knee. On one page, if one is close enough to see, is a beautifully illumined painting of Aslan.

Colin slips inside the stables, looking over his shoulder for a brief moment before relaxing and striding down the aisle between the stalls. Coalblack whinnies a greeting to him as he approaches.

Lanisen glances up quickly as the horses start making happy greeting noises. He relaxes on seeing that it’s only Colin. “Hey.”

Continue reading proper introduction

because we are alive


Before the Gates of Anvard
Eastern Archenland


A flat green space at the foot of the mountains opens here, sheltered by the slopes of the northern mountains. Stormness Head looms high to the northeast, its peak nearly always in clouds, and the double-headed peak of Mount Pire rises over the trees to the northwest. A steep ridge like the side of a bowl curves around from the northwest to the east, and the ground descends into dense forest to the south.

At the center of the clear area is a small turreted castle, facing east. Its weathered walls are built of large blocks of red granite that glitter faintly in the sunlight, and elegantly functional ironwork graces the front gates and portcullis. A stone cobbled road wide enough to easily facilitate the passage of carts and carriages crosses over the broad green lawns from the castle gates, disappearing into the trees to the east.


(OOC note: This log contains a busy crowd scene and has been edited and color-coded for readability.)

Lune wanders around the space of the lawn being set up for the feast, chatting with nobles and commoners alike. He’s clearly in high spirits, and every now and then his loud, booming laugh bells out at something said.

Astera beams with energy and happiness as she holds her daughter, telling the story of Mount Pire. She is hanging around the edges, not yet mingling with the crowd but clearly her heart is light.

Aliyah pads towards the castle grounds, nose twitching at all of the different but delightful scents.

Tempest trots through the crowd of Narnians and Archenlanders, taking everything in.

Arael comes out onto the lawn through the castle gates. She is hovering at Lanisen’s elbow, watching him and the ground closely to be sure that he doesn’t stumble or snag his cane on anything. Progress is slow, but eventually they make it.

Continue reading because we are alive

world upside-down


Lanisen’s Quarters
Castle Anvard


This chamber is a little wedge-shaped room, completely unremarkable but very clean. It’s small, with room for a bed and a little table and a wardrobe, but not much else. There is a narrow window of thick, slightly warped glass in the curving outer wall with a pleasant view of the castle pastures: rolling green, with a glimpse of the lake and waterfall beyond.


Colin holds open the door for Lanisen, helping him hobble in. There’s a grin on his face but quite unlike any grin he’s ever had before, one of wonderment and awe.

Lanisen isn’t the steadiest on his feet at the moment. There’s a dazed, incomprehending look to his face, and he’s still trembling faintly. His leg gives out about three steps into the room and he slides down to sit on the floor.

Arael stays close at Lanisen’s side as they enter the room, with her arm lightly wrapped behind his back to support him. Her eyes are wide and shining, and her face is serene, with just the littlest smile. She tightens her hold when Lanisen’s leg gives out, and while she isn’t able to keep him on his feet, she slows him enough to keep him from falling outright.

Continue reading world upside-down

the sun comes out again


Army Barracks
Castle Anvard


A wolf with thick black fur and tired blue eyes (Tempest) follows two soldiers closely as they help her wounded packmate into the area. A healer sees to the wound in his side and gives him a sleeping draft. She lays down beside him, still panting a little from the battle. She lays her head between her paws and huffs out a huge breath. Her fur is dirty and matted, sticky in spots.

Lanisen sleeps fitfully on one of the cots about halfway down the room, heavily bandaged around the leg and shoulder, and heavily drugged. He seems to be trying to wake up, low noises of pain escaping him.

Tempest lifts her head when one of the wounded sons of adam starts fussing. She drags herself to her paws once more and pads over to him, peering at him anxiously. She sniffs him carefully. Not smelling death, she places her cold nose in his hand, trying to help him.

Continue reading the sun comes out again

welts


Carmichael Village Square
Western Archenland


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.


Colin strides through the square, wearing a pensive expression on his face.

Lanisen heads up the path from the south, eying an angry red welt on his wrist ruefully.

Continue reading welts

[spy music playing in the distance]


Fischer’s Tavern
Carmichael
Western Archenland


You are in Fischer’s Tavern. A tall lanky man is standing behind the bar with a towel in one hand and a grin on his face. In front of him there is a nice hardwood bar about four feet high. Quite a few glasses and bottles stand on it waiting for a order. The barkeep motions towards a stool, “Name’s Fischer. Have a seat, what can I get ya to drink?”


Colin sits in the tavern absently sipping a mug of cider, looking around at the few patrons. He scans their faces and dismisses them when he does not recognize who he’s apparently looking for.

Lanisen opens the door and gives the room a quick glance without coming in. Once he finds Colin, he enters and closes the door behind him before crossing to join him. “Wondered where you got to,” he remarks, taking a seat. Continue reading [spy music playing in the distance]