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.
Continue reading life of the party
At the Fork
The path divides here, one fork curving west toward Anvard and the other continuing to the northeast toward Andale. The trees are very thick here, with dense patches of thorny briar filling in the gaps between trunks, and it is impossible to see very far down the road in any direction. Sweet raspberries can be found in the thickets on either side of the path in summertime, and the forest is noisy with wildlife.
(OOC note: the events of this RP follow chapter 11 of The Horse and His Boy, and a more complete log can be found here. This log contains crowd and battle scenes which have been edited and color-coded for clarity and readability.)
Lune, at the head of the hunting party, keeps his horse at a brisk canter. He draws up outside the gates and turns to face the company. “The town must be warned.” He surveys them briefly, grim-faced and calculating, and says, “Sir Colin.”
Colin guides his mount to King Lune’s side. “Sire?” He asks, his expression serious.
Dar follows close behind his sovereign, his own expression sober to the point of severity. He reins Celeres in and listens intently.
Lanisen draws up as well, handling his horse with far more ease than two months ago at this time, and glances from the king to Colin.
Continue reading anvard under siege