anvard under siege

At the Fork
Eastern Archenland

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.

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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.

Lanisen heads for the well with one of the inn’s buckets at a businesslike pace, not keen on spending more time outside in the chilly wind than necessary.

A daughter of eve with auburn hair in a milkmaid’s plait (Aryna) walks through the square with her shopping basket on one arm and struggling to hold onto her son’s arm with her other. He makes it quite difficult as he hops along on one foot for quite aways, then starts trying to skip ahead. He’s nearly the mirror image of his mother with her auburn hair and brown eyes, as well as most of his features matching hers. Continue reading socializing


Winbrytt’s Cottage
Western Archenland

You stand in a pleasant room, lit by a fireplace on one wall and a window on the other. Near the fireplace there are two large and comfortable looking chairs, perhaps castoffs from the local manor. A rug covers the floor there, adding warmth to the wooden floor. Across the room, beneath the window is a sturdy table with four chairs. Shelves on the walls hold crockery and pots.

Through a doorway in the back wall, you can see a huge bed, covered in furs, dominating a small bedroom. Another door leads outside.

Lanisen sneaks into Winbrytt and Aryna’s cottage via the window to plant the pickaxe, but nearly gets caught.

A daughter of eve with long auburn hair and soft brown eyes (Aryna) catches something out of the corner of her eye. “Hello?”

Lanisen freezes, hidden behind a chair, and bites his lower lip hard.

Aryna turns back to the old woman at the door. “I’m sorry, but no thank you. Perhaps you might try next door?”

The woman holds up a cloth. “Won’t ye even look at them?”

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