William
Journeyman
Posts: 15
Profession: Refugee
Affinity: Fire
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Post by William on Sept 22, 2014 15:46:13 GMT -6
As the kid told me his name I reached up and rubbed the back of my head as I gave an embarrassed smile. "Well I'm William a refugee of sorts that's been lost for the last few weeks" Dropping my hand from behind my head I wonder if the refugee part was a little to much information. I turn once again to the woman and say.
"I'd be happy to fix the door. Honestly didn't even realize I'd broken it when I came through. Although if I could talk to you and see a map later to get my orientation that would be to kind."
Not waiting for an answer I get up and move over to the door to inspect the damage. After the kid mentions also owing her labor I wonder about them. Seems that the kid doesn't live here, which makes me wonder what he's doing out here alone in the isles of all places. Judging by his lack of shoes he's been alone for a while. Making it all the more impressive that he hasn't been captured or killed by bandits or pirates. I make a note to ask later if we get a chance to share stories.
Turns out the hinges were getting old and probably would have broken on their own if given another few weeks. The solution is to find the local forge and see if there aren't spares already made up. Otherwise I could smith up a pair done it enough in dad's shop. Heck my horseshoes and hinges were almost as good as his. "Looks to me like the hinges need replaced."
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Sept 30, 2014 16:52:49 GMT -6
Lore didn't immediately respond to little Solomon's comment. She was still too busy watching and waiting on the brown haired wanderer to turn her gaze completely from him. Suspicion was healthy out here, but her family had also warned her that too much suspicion could ruin a life. Was this one of those occasions?
"...We'll let it dry, and scrape it up later, Solomon...." It was a bit heartwarming to hear his tiny little voice offering up his work too. Even amidst the ruins of Wake.
She watched as he moved to and inspected the door, feeling a little less worried as time went by. He didn't take long to make his prognosis. It was easy to see once he tried to move the door. She noted that he seemed to know just where and how to look. As though he were already familiar with its make and construction.
"Well you kinda kicked the door in with a yell. Scared me witless too. But if you can fix the door, maybe I'll keep you around for awhile."
She thought about the forge and how all of her people had had to pack up and leave about a year ago, taking their livelihood with them to the city. She wasn't sure whether there was anything left there that would be of use, but if there wasn't, she could always make something new. Or hopefully the stranger could. There was still an iron mine out from the village, though the lack of quality tools would be felt. The old smith would have taken anything worth using with him when he left.
"You're probably hungry too then, aren't you." Loreley commented, thinking of how he said he'd been on the run for weeks. Wandering through the isles was an easy way to get yourself killed. Whether by wild beasts, or brigands, or worse things told in hushed whispers by town gossips and crazy old folks.... Only, Loreley happened to know that not all of those tales should be discounted as wild imaginings of the delusional.
She lowered her bow, and slipped the arrow back into her quiver at her hip. Still feeling a little wary, she turned and headed into her bedroom where they'd had their first meeting, and moved to a bag she'd left against the wall. As she opened it up and reached inside, she could already smell the smoked meats inside. It had a rather strong taste, but preserved well. There were a few other things tucked away in the bag's pockets, such as the oranges she'd traded away far too much gold for at her last stop, but the meat would do for now. Grabbing a few healthy helpings of the stuff, she closed the bag back up and turned back towards the front room, holding out her hands to parcel some out to the others.
"Here. It's not much, but it's probably the best for right now. Before we do any more, I want some stories. How does a little boy get all the way out here by himself? And what are you running from William? Is it still following you?" Oh, stars forbid that she'd have to pick up and leave right away. She'd just gotten here!
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William
Journeyman
Posts: 15
Profession: Refugee
Affinity: Fire
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Post by William on Oct 5, 2014 19:50:06 GMT -6
Hearing Loreley's worried question I look up from the hinge and turn to face her.
"They probably think I'm dead, or they just don't care, more than likely it's both." I say before I take a deep breath to calm myself and prepare my self for the bulk of the next speech. "It started almost a month ago in the village I called home. It was a small village with a small mine that made most of it's money from being a frequent stop over for mercenary troops moving through the area. They would take care of enough bandits that we were usually safe, but traffic had been slow for a while because there was a commotion up north of the village. Some of the smarter bandits saw this as I chance to attack." I pause again as I sniff and take another deep breath that comes out shaky, it's getting harder to talk as my eyesight blurs. "When they attacked they destroyed everything, my home, my friends, my dad," another pause as I wipe my eyes trying not to break down. "My dad told me to run, he taught me everything I know about smithing, but he never taught me anything about combat. I... I couldn't even do that they knocked me out and captured me so they could shove an axe in my arms and gang press me." No point in wiping my eyes now, I flop down on the floor to take a seat against the wall as I begin to sob. "When th-the mercenaries came all I-I-I did was run again, I d-didn't have have anywhere to go or any family but D-D-Dad so I've just been w-wandering lost for w-w-w-weeks. Your the first people I've seen in a-almost a-a month." I finally finish as I sit on the floor and continue sobbing.
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Oct 12, 2014 19:04:16 GMT -6
Loreley listened, hearing the story told by the lone young man. Just a boy really, she was realizing, despite his large size. There was a moment where she mentally reassured herself that they most likely weren't going to be beset upon by angry raiders following an escapee from one of their targets. It was quickly pushed to the back of her mind as William started to break down during his story. There was something uncomfortable about seeing a man sobbing uncontrollably, and she was starting to feel it now, even if he was still just a young man.
Oh, for goodness sake. What am I supposed to do now? She didn't say that outloud though, merely watching from where she stood with her hands on her hips as he kept going. It was a sad story. It was horrible in fact. Just like so many of the legends of fighters around the isles who grew up to take vengeance on their wrongdoers. So many in the stories across the isles also became monsters though. Taking a moment, she gathered herself.... She would help. She'd just act like he was another of her village's people. She'd always been one of the ones that the parents had tried to get to talk to their kids when they were being difficult. They thought it took a kid to talk to another kid. That had never been the case for her: It took someone with compassion and consideration, and respect to talk to someone about problems. That was what she'd thought, anyway.
"Shhh... Shh..." She crouched down next to William and started trying to console him.
"Solomon, why don't you go into the bedroom and open my bag. Inside, I have a few big red apples. You can take one and go count the waves from the cliff out the back door as they come into shore.... And, we'll be out in a little bit."
Turning her attention back to William, she wasn't quite sure what to say immediately, but she just waited a little bit, and the words started coming to her.
"You're father sounds like he was a very good and kind man, Will. He wanted you to live, and I know he'd be proud of you, and happy you escaped...." She felt herself tearing up a little too at the tragedy. What would she do if she lost her home and family. Truly lost. She had lost her home, but the people were still alive, having fled before the danger could overtake their settlement.
"Go on and cry and mourn, but don't forget what he wanted for you." She spoke quietly, but her words carried a weight of surety behind them. She wished she could feel that surety for herself, but it was more a talent she'd developed over the years. Speaking quiet confident words and assurances for those who needed them. Who else would you count on for such things but the first daughter of your town's shaman and fortune teller?
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William
Journeyman
Posts: 15
Profession: Refugee
Affinity: Fire
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Post by William on Nov 5, 2014 16:59:43 GMT -6
She's right, I shouldn't be sitting here crying when I could be helping. I'm not the only one to have lost everything it looks like. Especially looking at the kid outside.
Getting off the floor I take a deep breath and swallow my sobs "I-I'm okay, let's see if we can't help the kid, then I'll go down to the smithy and see if he left any hinges, if not he probably at least left the lower grade iron I'd need to make more."
At this I turn and start walking outside.
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