Road to Cair Paravel
This is a dirt road leading east and west along the narrow peninsula that extends from the Narnian mainland to the castle of Cair Paravel. The ground below is earth mixed with sand from the beaches that stretch both north and south from here. The road climbs gradually up a hill as it moves east, and at the top stands Cair Paravel in all its turreted splendor against the open sky. To the west is the center of Sted Cair, the small town which has grown up next to the heart of Narnia.
Deonyc glances at the faun passing, before looking back to Megren to see if she has more to say.
Megren seems finished, because she waves the Faun down. “Eimear, hello! Do you happen to know what the status is on Calya’s honeycakes?”
Lanisen follows the road from the market on the mainland back toward the castle, walking on the side of the road to be out of the way of anybody driving a cart or just walking faster than him. His eyes rest on the people ahead, curious and alert.
Continue reading rumors & holiday plans
Lanisen sits in a chair by the empty hearth, poring over a book bound in dark red cloth. There’s a map of Terebinthia on one of the pages.
Deonyc comes walking into the library, he glances at lanisen but isn’t about to go and bug him he looks around for any library staff but can’t seem to find any
Lanisen glances up from his book as the door opens. He doesn’t call out, and he bows his head over the page again, but he doesn’t seem to be reading. He watches Deonyc from the corner of his eye.
Deonyc looks at the row of bookshelves with musing interest, not that he can read any of them but nonetheless he scans the covers for anything he can make sense of.
Continue reading 15 firedance 1017
The Satyr’s Hoof Tavern
You stand inside the Satyr’s Hoof Tavern, a lively and warm social gathering place that is always patonized by many of Sted Cair’s good citizens. The room is brightly lit with dwarven-wrought lanterns, and the walls are adorned with maps, ropes and other adventurer’s gear. Tables are scattered around in no particular fashion, and serving wenches casually stroll among them, taking orders. A large menu on the wall behind the bar lists the current fare.
There is also a long bar along the southwest wall, with crude wooden stools set in front of it. Behind, a tall, handsome-looking Satyr is serving beverages to the patrons seated there. The northeast door leads out onto the square.
A cat with long, grey tabby fur (Trim) is sat on the bar. Not on a stool, on the bar. Any and all cups have been moved far away from him and he is currently engrossed in a small, cat-sized plate of roast chicken.
Haft and Lanisen enter, pausing for a moment to let their eyes adjust to the light before settling on a table a bit to the side of the main area.
Trim looks up from the chicken and towards the humans, “Hullo there, you lot with the duke or the lady?”
Haft looks up. “News travels fast. We’re with the lady.”
Trim says, “Met another chap that was with her not so long ago!” He peers at Haft. “I say, have we met?”
Continue reading diplomatic babysitting
In the Valley
The slope here is easily traversed, slanting gently down into the valley to the west. There are a few trees here, tall and widely spaced, giving intermittent shade to the area. These are mostly the tall cone-bearing type, stately pines and friendly larches, but the foliage grows decidedly more deciduous lower in the valley. The ground is covered with sweet-smelling grass and the occasional bank of heather, and a rough track leads further down into the trees. A chattering mountain stream disappears into the wooded valley to the west.
To the south, the mountains rise massive and insurmountable, white peaks often obscured by clouds. North is the range of rocky hills that separates the valley from the great woods, their slopes too steep and treacherous to scale easily.
Megren finishes filling a pot at the stream and sets it over the fire.
Darrin tends to the horses, which are hobbled near the stream’s edge.
Avery wanders around the area, picking up some dry sticks. “Do you need any help, Dame Megren?”
Lanisen helps sort out the general jumble of belongings near where they have built the fire. He carries his bedroll a little distance away from the pile and begins to lay it out.
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Lanisen makes his way through the market in the early afternoon. Despite the sunny day, he’s wearing a scarf and a jacket. He’s got bags under his eyes and looks a little pale.
Deonyc walks along the marketplace aside a fellow guardsman, they are both in uniform but greeting people as they meet.
Dalia slips out from the stables, dusting off her dress and brushing a hair behind her ear.
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Lanisen is busy cleaning, shaking out the rugs and sweeping heaps of shed dog fur and straw and dried herbs out into the ward. The windows are all open and the kennel smells pleasantly of soap and fresh herbs.
Deonyc comes walking in from the outer ward in his hunting gear which he carefully hangs on a peg, making sure a small leather bag is well out of reach of the hounds. He looks around, and, spotting Lanisen, gives a quick, “Hello!”
Lanisen pauses his work as the guard enters. He leans his broom up against the wall and wipes his hands on his shirt, crossing toward Deonyc. “Hi,” he answers uncertainly, questioning. Continue reading an unexpected party
Lanisen is just leaving the kitchen with a glass jar held carefully in one hand. The jar holds a little water at the bottom and a little bouquet of about every kind of flower one can find in early spring and a few you can’t: crocus, snowdrop, daffodil, cherry blossom, and several long sprigs of flowering herbs from the solarium.
Dalia makes her way into the kitchen, with her shawl around her, she looks quite a little bit better than the night before.
Continue reading dame megren
Freya chats with a guardsman in a friendly fashion, owing to her growing comfort in her surroundings.
Freya mumbles “… how’s … brother … … … can’t … … … … … cut … … win … match. … … … … quite … sport in … eh?”, to Freya.
Lanisen makes his way through the market around lunchtime, cobbling together a meal out of random delicious-looking things sold by various vendors around the ward.
Continue reading fixing fisticuffers
This quiet area is known as North Andale. To one side of the gravel road is a glade of trees, mostly hardwoods, dominated by a huge White Oak. To the other side of the road is a small meadow, full of wild-flowers and there in the middle someone has placed a table and two benches, much weathered, but still sturdy. This is a favorite place for young sweethearts to pass time together.
To the south is the village of Andale and off to the east is the Range Road.
Megren sits in the circle of flower-crown-makers, good leg tucked under her and her cane across her lap, back to the bonfire.
Lanisen sits close by, crosslegged and quiet, people-watching.
Darrin wanders into the area from the direction of the castle, clearly a little more clean than he usually is at the end of the day.
Continue reading dancing day
Deonyc is sitting on a barrel standing next to the curtain wall, a small cloth sack on his lap. He drops his satchel next to the barrel and gets out what seems to be lunch.
Lanisen leaves the kennels. He pauses to rinse his hands with a dipper of water from the barrel outside the door, then makes his way toward the market, disappearing from view between other market-goers, carts, and stalls. He reappears after a few moments with a paper-wrapped baked potato and a generous hunk of cheese, and begins back toward the kennel.
Continue reading luncheon