The Beach near Sted Cair
Oren’s camp is stirring about the fringes, with a couple of tables laid out with the remains of a great feast: soup, fish, cheeses, mead, pheasant and some sort of excellent roast as well as a mound of roasted potatoes in some sort of sauce overflow. A runner was sent into town scarce a quarter of an hour before, and any who could be found about at the hour were told they were welcome to partake of the sunset meal. The smell of fat, frying over a fire, wafts into the area, a bit at odds with the style of the elegant meal laid out on the table, but no less mouth-watering.”
Leon had been partaking in an evening stroll, when the messenger found him, and thus now he found himself on the beach, approaching the camp and all that inviting food.
Eimear quickly follows after Leon and comes to the beach with a large smile. She calls out, “I heard there was a feast and it sure smells like it!”
Continue reading impromptu feast
Lanisen has found an alcove in which to tuck himself away under one of the windows on the north wall. The early afternoon sunlight slants down onto the pages of his book and reflects onto his face from underneath.
Avery enters the library, holding a leather-bound book and a small, thin wooden box. Her steps are quiet, but there are little clacking sounds coming from the box.
Lanisen looks up at the soft weighty sound of the door closing again. He straightens slightly where he sits, alert, and gets up to bow.
Continue reading portraits and shaky ground
Great Hall Well Chamber
A small chamber stands just south of the great hall. The room is mostly square and dominated by a large, round well built of smooth-hewn greystone and surrounded by a tile pavement. A wooden pail sits beside it for drawing out the cool, clear water inside.
An open doorway leads north into the great hall. Another leads west into what appears to be a kitchen. Finally, a third archway leads east into the southeast tower of the castle.
Lanisen is filling his waterskin from the well. When he has finished, he screws the lid back on, pours some cold water from the bucket directly onto his head, shudders for a minute, then lets out a breath of satisfaction.
Wethil flies out of the kitchen, pouch mostly empty (the way it hangs suggests maybe a couple small objects inside). She’s blinking rapidly and not paying the best of attention to her surroundings as she lands on the well again, just like before.
Lanisen says, glancing toward her with a pleased smile, “Mornin’, you.”
Continue reading the view from the top
The infirmary is empty except for the healer on duty, a tall centaur with dusty gray spotted hindquarters, and for Lanisen, who has curled up on a bench by the west door to read a book on remedies and their preparations.
Wethil flaps into the infirmary and over to the Centaur. “Hullo, mm, Brickle sent me ask if you could prepare another sachet of her tea, she’s, mm, running a little low?”
Lanisen looks up from his book as Wethil enters. As the healer acknowledges the request and leaves off his writing to put together the herbs, Lanisen looks up at the sunlit window, then back to Wethil with one eye narrowed.
Continue reading uncertainty
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
Lanisen has, as is becoming his habit, found a space in the late morning at one of the back tables with a book. He is reading silently and seems absorbed, except that he is rubbing his right shoulder absently with his thumb as he does so.
Chlamash enters quietly, a cup of tea in his hands and an book or two under his arm. He doesn’t look to be particularly well rested this morning however, of his attire however nothing seems to be out of place.
Continue reading overstepping & morning insomnia
A bat with an orange ruff’s wings make a soft whooshing sound as she flies through the garden. Her modified satchel is bulging, a red-and-white-checkered cloth peeking out of the top.
Lanisen makes his way down the path, aiming for the quieter part of the garden. He keeps to the side of the path, and he has a watchful uncertain look that suggests he isn’t sure he’s meant to be here. He ducks in surprise away from the Bat.
Continue reading bats before breakfast