ethical quandry


Outer Ward
Castle Anvard


Lanisen is sitting on the step outside the kennel in the early evening, leaning against the doorframe, watching the temporary market stalls being broken down and their remaining wares carted out. He’s working on a half-eaten sandwich, but seems to have run out of room for his supper.

Nasrin strolls along the line of market stalls (at least those few still open) for a few more minutes, taking a look at what wares remain. Disappointed at having arrived late, she makes to leaves the outer ward before noticing Lanisen and walking on over.

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asking leave


Outer Ward
Castle Anvard


Abrielle laughs quietly as Haft goes pink. She bobs her head a bit at Barret. “Hello Barret. Nice to meet you.”

A son of adam with grey-streaked hair says, “Pleasure to meet you”

Haft says, “Barret here is one of the few men like me in the barracks who’s past his first shave.”

Lanisen leaves the kennels, shutting the door securely behind himself, and heads across the ward toward the stables. He is purposeful in his movement and keeps his head down.

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comparing backstories


Outer Ward
Castle Anvard


Cassandra is sitting on a barrel, watching the inner gatehouse doors.

Lanisen leaves the kennels, washing his doggy hands off in a hogshead by the door, and glances around the ward. He dries his hands and heads toward Cassandra’s barrel, tilting his head at her a little.

Cassandra doesn’t seem to see her brother approaching. Her focus is still on the gatehouse.

Lanisen kicks her barrel.

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life of the party


Outer Ward
Castle Anvard


Abrielle continues sketching, the scene in the Ward, looking more frazzled as time passes.

Haft stands on duty next to Gearn at the base of the south gate tower. For the most part the two men stand in watchful silence.

Lanisen passes through on his way back from the market, carrying a tunic and inspecting a mended section on the sleeve.

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snap judgment


Outer Ward
Castle Anvard


Abrielle smiles at Avery. “I doubt that.”

A daughter of eve with fair hair continues walking through the ward, dodging a bit of mud that threatens to wreck her sensible shoes. She watches the man go into the kennels, then notices the other in the red tunic by the stables before she nearly trods into a puddle. She skirts around that, gaze going up to the Lady and her companion sitting nearby.

Avery rolls her eyes. “It’s true.” She holds a finger to her lips. “But shh, let it not be heard that the this Lady of Chesterton has /flaws/…” Her voice holds a bit of a mocking tone.

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good luck, old chum; good health


Inner Ward of Anvard
Castle Anvard


Peridan is walking through the Ward. He seems to be looking for someone.

Lanisen passes through the gatehouse, rumpled and covered in dog hair. He’s still got his stick, but though he still limps, he seems to be relying on it far less.

Continue reading good luck, old chum; good health

strange things you do hear passing through


Outer Ward
Castle Anvard


Haft is sitting on a barrel in a quiet corner, well out of sight of most of the yard. He’s got a good view of the gate.

Peridan is speaking to a couple of Guards. By his stance, he is simply chatting with them. Occasionally, one of the guards or Peridan laughs.

Lanisen makes his way through the gatehouse from the inner ward, nodding politely to the guard on duty as he passes. He glances around the outer ward, then heads toward the kennels.

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sweet rolls


Inner Ward of Anvard
Castle Anvard


Peridan is sitting on a bench, reading.

Lanisen makes his way out of the corridor to the servants’ quarters toward the well. He’s moving with relative ease, but he’s still relying on the stick quite a lot. Once he reaches the well, he leans his stick against it and draws up a bucket one-handed.

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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