crash course


Library
Castle Anvard


You stand in the Library of Anvard, a room well-lit by a multitude of wall sconces. The air is heavy with the unique, but pleasing smell of books, old and new. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of volumes line the shelves from top to bottom, and a number of tables have been provided for reading and writing. The room appears to be well-dusted and well-kept, its contents carefully maintained and repaired throughout the years.


Lanisen prowls up and down the section of the shelves containing books on Archenland’s nearest neighbors, his head tilted oddly to one side as he reads the titles. His stick clacks loudly against the floor in the ubiquitous library silence no matter how quiet he tries to keep it.

Tyre enters the library and surveys the territory to see if it is safe.

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equine therapy


Stable
Castle Anvard


You stand in the Anvard Stable. All around you are stalls and equipment. There are horses of all colors, but all are high caliber. The far wall is hung with saddles, bridles, stirrups and other tack. There is fresh straw in every stall and buckets for water are hung on hooks. There are several special stalls for visiting talking horses. The floor is hardpacked dirt.


Dar’s tall, lanky frame can be seen through one of the open stall doors. He is grooming a grey stallion, tall enough to be a good height for him. Dar’s back is to the door and he is focused on his work, using the curry comb to rid the horse’s coat of any traces of dirt.

Lanisen makes his clumsy, thumping way down the stable’s alley and turns to one of the stalls close to the door. The latch gives him some trouble, but he at last lets himself inside without letting the big dappled-gray gelding out, and closes the half-door behind him.

Dar, alerted by Lanisen’s halting progress, peers over the divide between the stalls, his height making this rather easier than it might otherwise be. He sets the comb aside. “Ah-”

Lanisen has already sagged against the gelding’s warm bulk, obviously thinking himself alone. At Dar’s voice, he straightens immediately, turning toward the source of the sound. “My lord,” he says after a beat, and bows, steadying himself on the horse’s shoulder.

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