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
Abrielle nods and smiles sheepishly. “Of course. I am overwhelming you with questions.”
Freya frowns, still thinking. “T’was on ‘o those A-names. Not yer fault. I ought t’ know.”
Abrielle smiles. “Well…do not worry yourself over it.”
Continue reading a-names
Lanisen is on his way across the outer ward to the kennels, returning from the market in the early afternoon. He takes a bite of a hand-sized meat pie as he walks.
Freya strides into the castle market, looking up at the walls in some awe. “They sure build high fer not diggin’ holes.” She bumps into someone’s back, not paying attention. “Beggin’ yer pardon.”
Continue reading new healer in town
Carmichael Mine Settlement
The chamber in which you stand was apparently, at one time, a fairly well-
populated dwarven settlement. Neat little huts have been built into the
north wall, with ladders leading up to them. At this point, however, most of
the huts appear to be abandoned, and several are already falling into a state
of disrepair as a result. There is also a fair amount of detritus lying
around — old tools, broken lanterns, discarded household items — suggesting
that a once fairly bustling settlement has now dwindled considerably.
There are, however, a few huts that are still occupied, evidenced by the fact
that they remain in decent repair and have seen recent upkeep. A community
cookfire here continues to be tended, and voices can be heard echoing
A path leads south toward the entrance of the mine.
Lanisen knocks tentatively on Freya’s front door.
Inside, Freya hums a dwarvish marching tune until the knock. “Come in!”
Continue reading consultation
The Carmichael Lodge is not an ostentatious building. The focal point
appears to be a small woodburning stove, which lends light and warmth to the
room. The wooden walls are whitewashed and bare, but for several sconces.
The woodplank floor is swept clean and there is a fairly tidy desk sitting
beside a doorway that appears to open into a hallway. Sitting at the desk is
a young man with blonde hair.
Cassandra comes rushing out of the hallway, a package is in her hands.
Lanisen passes through the front room of the lodge, on his way back to the room. “Hey,” he says, startled. “What’s the rush?”
Continue reading preparations
Carmichael Village Square
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 leaves the lodge in the early evening and makes his way toward the tavern for supper.
Freya is leaving the tavern, having already eaten. Looking up, she sees Lanisen and hails him, “Good eve! I was jus’ looking for ye!”
Continue reading dinner invitation
Carmichael Village Square
Lanisen passes through the square, walking from the inn to the tavern.
A dwarf with precisely stitched clothing also happens to be heading for the tavern, although from the direction of the mines. She was smoking a pipe of vanilla smelling baccy, but puts the pipe away as she nears the tavern.
Lanisen, glancing back as he enters the tavern, holds the door open for the dwarf behind him.
Freya glances up at the Son of Adam, nods in curt thanks, and heads inside.
Continue reading perception