In Ashe Fork (This is the for-est primeval...): Free RP

[Inkling]

The town of Ashe Fork is full of life. Small cottages, homes to entire families, seem to have sprung up almost haphazardly, with a well holding pride of place in the very center of the community. The residents appear friendly enough, calling out greetings and waving as they pass one another going about their business. Each home has a tidy little garden behind it, providing the basic necessities of life. Ashe Fork has a dry goods store, a tailor, and even a blacksmith within convenient walking distance.

A forest, dark and brooding, stretches to the west, just beyond the town limits. On the other side of Ashe Fork, a path winds down to the quayside, where at nearly all hours ships arrive and depart, indicating a thriving merchant class. Another road leads to the beach and the dunes above, and the air, pungent with the scent of the salt spray, is punctuated with the calls of seabirds, ducking and wheeling above in their dance. Past the bluffs, the castle of Cair Paravel blocks the skyline.

[Petraverd]

Standing at the archery range of Ashe Fork is a young man, expression calm and serious as he takes an arrow from his quiver and sets it to the string. Face calculating as he draws it back, he aims towards a target, takes a breath, and lets it loose.

The arrow whizzes through the air, and pierces the target a little shy of the bullseye, settling in the ring outside it with a clean *thock* noise.

Torin's reaction to such a shot is unclear, as his face remains unchanged. His thoughts remain fully on his practice as he readies another arrow.

[Inkling]

OOC: For the sake of demonstrating a 'traveling' type post. Be aware that Ashe Forke is below Cair Paravel, so it's reasonable to reach there fairly quickly...

Caryss, feeling a air of restlessness take hold of her, determines that she will find some productive ways to spend her time before she is due to return to the infirmary. Something about the town below calls to her, and, donning a cloak, she gathers a small pouch together. Passing through the inner ward of the castle, she asks a servant to accompany her, since it would be unthinkable to wander on her own.

Outside the gates, she quickens her pace as she moves along the road leading into the village of Ashe Fork. The servant is huffing to keep up with her young mistress, and, noticing such, Caryss shortens her strides to accommodate her. "My apologies, Angharad..." she says, "I should have been more mindful." She turns toward the path leading to the marketplace, where she knows from experience that she'll find the muslin she needs to make up poultices from the store of dried herbs in the castle.

This road leads her by the archery range, where a solitary figure is practicing his skills. She dips into a low curtsy in greeting when she realizes just who the young man is.

"Well met, Sir Torin," she begins, her eyes modestly downcast toward the ground. "How are you faring, and how is your practicing progressing?" As ever, her manner is polite.

[Petraverd]

Caryss addresses Torin just before he lets an arrow loose, and furrows his brow somewhat as the arrow lands farther from his mark as he had hoped as a result. Regardless, he wipes the hint of expression off his face and turns to give a small bow. "Afternoon, milady. Well enough to both."

[Inkling]

Caryss looks up discretely, and, having apparently caught something in the knight's countenance, her cheeks color slightly before she looks away again. Years of practice in hiding her feelings allow her to rapidly school her own expression, though her tone conveys a hint of apology.

"I seem to have chosen my moment poorly," she responds, turning away slightly. "and apologize for disrupting your concentration. I am pleased to see that you are returned and to find you well. I confess I was not surprised to find you here, but I should leave you to your exercises."

Caryss reaches down, retrieving an arrow which has loosed itself from the knight's quiver to roll to the ground a short distance away. She touches the arrow's shaft with a delicate finger, then wordlessly offers it to him.

[Petraverd]

Torin shakes his head slightly, face still as blank and unreadable as if it were carved from stone - though not in an unfriendly manner. "Nothing to apologize for, milady. I should be less affected by a sudden disruption in concentration."

He glances to the arrow, and accepts it with a small nod of his head, both the nod and the replacement of the arrow to his quiver smooth and fluid. "Thought I was one short. Thank you."

[Inkling]

Caryss's lips curve into an approximation of a smile, though it is faint and does not reach her dark eyes.

"Sir Torin, it is noble of you to excuse me. I certainly have no claim on your time; it has been some weeks since I have seen you, and my desire to reassure myself about your continued welfare quite overcame my better judgment about disturbing you."

Still, though she desires to turn and leave him, she makes no movement to depart as the servant silently bears witness to their exchange. It is almost as if Caryss stands rooted in her place, and between the knight and the lady rises the figure of the man they both knew and regarded highly: Torin's brother, the Lord Tor. In her mind, the image of their last meeting visits once more, clear and vivid:

Tor, ebullient as ever, was half carried into the infirmary by three strong knights after a spar when he called out a greeting. "Milady Caryss, are you ready to patch me together once more?"

She turned from rolling long strips of linen bandages, not even flinching at the deep lacerations and the dark purple bruises on his skin. Caryss dipped a low curtsy, and before she had even reached his side, his brother, Torin, quiet as was his wont, had already arrived, somehow informed of the mishap.

Tor, of course, made light of his injuries, and soon had all those present at their ease; some were even laughing as he told of his latest exploit. He didn't even wince as she treated his injuries with salve and wound his arm with bandages.

"You will not be able to compete in the tournament now, my lord," she informed him, and, for an instant, Caryss noticed something akin to relief in Tor's younger brother's eyes.

This same Torin stands before her now, and he is like his brother, though if anything he has withdrawn even further from the man she knew.

We both feel his loss, though your pain is far the greater, and I will help you if it is within my power. She thinks these words, but they are not spoken aloud. Clasping her hands together, Caryss looks back to the ground beneath her feet.

[Petraverd]

OOC: Let it be known that Inky and I did discuss whether such a relation between these two characters would be plausible beforehand. As it should be, in such a case. ;)

IC: Torin merely nods again. "As I have said, I do not believe there is really anything needing excusing. And reassurance is a luxury in your line of work, I would think. If I can provide such, then good and well for the both of us. And as I have said, I am well enough."

As he speaks this last sentence, Torin's hand drifts towards the hilt of the sword at his waist, the same sword his brother once wielded.

Well enough to press on, yes. Still dealing otherwise, though.

[Inkling]

Caryss nods meekly, and her expression does not alter. The breeze plays with a few loose tresses of hair, but she does not appear to feel it other than reaching up a slim hand to brush the long strands back behind her ears.

Angharad, however, purses her lips slightly at the words Torin speaks. She knows better, though, than to offer comment to those above her station, and remains silent.

After a pause Caryss speaks, her voice low, "Is it not my role to care for the well being of all those connected with the castle? And we both know that not all marks are physical..." For Tor's sake, she reminds herself, not entirely convinced by Torin's claims that he is fine.

Her glance is drawn by his motion to the sword, which she has seen borne by his elder brother a hundred times, and the breath catches in her throat. However, she remains completely still.

[Petraverd]

Torin's reply is simple, as they usually tend to be. "A remnant scar does not always mean the wound that caused it is still paining."

He is quiet a moment, still fingering his sword. "I should get some practice of a different sort in."

He glances towards the target, and in one swift motion, takes the one remaining arrow in his quiver, sets it to the string, and fires it off. Again it lands just outside the bullseye, and again the archer gives no indication as to whether he is satisfied by this or not.

Turning back towards Caryss, he bows slightly again. "I should see to things. A good day to you, milady. Take care."

And with that, he turns to retrieve his arrows.

[Inkling]

Caryss inclines her head into another small nod. "Indeed. It is good to hear you say so. You are right; they will heal given time..."

She does not trust herself to speak further, suddenly feeling very young and more than a bit foolish.

How often do you blunder in where even the wisest should not, Caryss? If he has managed to find some degree of normalcy again, why dredge through what can only bring fresh pain? 'Tis selfish and unbecoming of you, and no wonder he wishes to be free of your company and this conversation...

This inner chastisement passes through her mind as the knight strings another arrow and lets it fly. Her eyes widen a fraction at his steadiness and his skill.

She curtsies again. "And I also have matters which I should attend to. Good day to you, Sir Torin."

Caryss waits, ramrod straight, while he collects his arrows and watches while he turns to leave without calling him back.

[Petraverd]

Torin surveys his work as he approaches the target.

Perhaps no better than usual... but no worse, either. That's something.

He gives a small, satisfied nod, and sets to work easing his arrows out of the target. Despite his hardened appearance, he manages to do so delicately enough to prevent damaging the arrows in any way. He replaces them in his quiver, and begins to make his way back towards the castle, thinking to get a little practice with his sword in before calling it a day. He allows himself a faint grin for a brief moment as he unstrings his bow.

Tor wouldn't have wanted me brooding for too long anyway. Still... I suppose taking up his sword where he left off makes me feel better to some extent.

[Inkling]

When the knight has left the archery range, Caryss sinks down onto a flat stone at the edge of the field, staring out into the distance without appearing to actually see much of anything. Her countenance is stoic, and not a hint of her thoughts is refected in the deep pools of her eyes.

Her fingers hold tightly to the small pouch of coins she's brought to complete her transactions, so much so that her knuckles are white. Angharad watches for a few moments and then breaks in upon Caryss's reveries. "Are you quite well, my lady? We should be about our way..."

Caryss starts, and with a very small sigh, she rises to her feet. "I am, Angharad, and thank you. Just lost in thought."

Together, the two women make their way to the marketplace, and though Caryss gets a good price for the cloth she needs, her mind seems elsewhere. "Thank you," she says to the merchant. "As always, your wares are of good quality. If you could see that these are sent to the castle's infirmary later this afternoon, I would be most grateful."

She measures out the price and the merchant bows deferentially. "Of course, Lady Caryss. After what you have done for my daughter, I would not charge you anything. You know that."

Caryss smiles a bit. "Ah, but I insist, Master Arden. Your family needs food as well, and I am glad to pay. Pray give my best to your good wife." She nods her head politely, concludes the business and is again on her way, taking the long road back to the castle...it will lead her through the edges of the forested land. Angharad is by her mistress's side, grumbling with good humor about the extra steps.

[Korkoa]

Korkoa the leopard lived in the forest just outside of towm, and he generaly knew when someone was in his wood. However, he was surprised when he heard voices while chasing a cricket. Ah! Miss Caryss, the healer at Cair Paravel! Well, he had no business with her, so he kept chasing his cricket. Once again, he was surprised when the cricket jumped out onto the trail in from of Caryss, and he followed. "Um... Hello there." He said, thinking about what a foolish sight he must seem, chasing after a cricket in the woods. "I was just... playing."

[Petraverd]

Torin makes a bit of a detour at the fletcher's, purchasing a few more arrows, before making his way back towards the castle. His stride is even, his stance confident, and his face as emotionless as ever.

Hope I can find someone to do a little sparring with when I get back. I could use it.

[Inkling]

The woods beckon Caryss with the call of an old friend. She has walked these paths since she was first summoned to the castle, and she knows the heart of the forest. The near solitude, with only Angharad's companionship, appeals to her. She gathers fragrant herbs, understanding their uses well, and fills her hands with chamomile, yarrow, sagewort, and comfrey.

Only when Caryss has completed her task does Angharad break her silence. "My lady--I hope you can forgive an old woman for speaking plainly, for it is the only way I know. You hid your heart, as you had to; your father had plans for your future, and you were dutiful. Still, I have eyes to see, and I could tell what ways your affections settled. Perhaps not even the knight in question was aware of it. Now he is gone, and you will only make yourself ill with continuing to grieve for what could surely never have been. You must learn to see the past without the pain, as his brother is beginning to do, and begin to give thought to what is to come."

Caryss is stunned into silence by Angharad's frankness, but the servant is not finished yet. "I also remind you that, though he has certain similar mannerisms and bears a resemblance to the Lord Tor, as brothers do, Sir Torin is /not/ his brother. Your heart is compassionate, Lady Caryss, but you do him no kindness by seeking him out; it can only remind him of the past, when he is just now able to move forward."

Caryss's cheeks are two bright spots of color, and she physically starts as if Angharad has slapped her. "I...know, Angharad. You needn't concern yourself with a repetition. I will not do so again..."

She is about to say more when the leopard wanders across their path. She evidences visible relief at the interruption and nods politely in greeting. "Good afternoon," she says, her smile reasserting itself and her tone gentle. "That sounds like an enjoyable occupation, and you needn't explain yourself to me; after all, the forest is your home, is it not?"

[Korkoa]

Korkoa nodded in relief. "Yes it is, m'lady. If I may ask, why are you taking this route to the castle? I don't get many visitors out here."

[Inkling]

Caryss places the plants into a satchel. "I came seeking these. I suppose there are those who believe that the woods are not exactly...tame, but Angharad and I have always felt at ease here."

The servant nods her agreement. "Indeed, milady. Otherwise, I would not dream of accompanying you." She smiles a bit, knowing that her young mistress would likely as not have gone on her own.

Caryss smiles fondly at the older woman, then turns back to the leopard and says lightly, "The benefit to the infirmary and the castle as a whole is worth a few extra steps, I believe."

[Korkoa]

"Well, the forest is fairly dangerous. If you don't mind, perhaps I could walk you back to the castle?" Korkoa asked hopefuly...

[Inkling]

Caryss's expression quickly shifts to one of gratitude, though her manner maintains a hint of formality. She nods in acquiescence.

"It is most kind of you to offer, and Angharad and I would be grateful for the escort. I believe we gathered the herbs we needed, and we should be on our way back. I'll be expected at the infirmary before long," she adds, with a glance at the position of the sun.

The forest is still in shadow as she allows him to lead the way back; he must know the forest much better than she herself does, after all. She will make sure that Angharad is able to keep pace easily.

Their own shadows lengthen, and their forms are dappled by the shade cast by the trees. It is time to return.

[Korkoa]

Korkoa nods gratefuly. "Thank you. The shortest way back is this way." He turned and followed the dirt trail that marked the shortest route back to the castle. "Uh... You wouldn't, by chance, know someone who I could talk to in order to get into the Narnian Guard, do you?" He asked after a few moments.

[Inkling]

OOC: I'll move us back to the castle, Kor.

[Korkoa]

OOC: Gotcha, we continuing there then?

[Korkoa]

Korkoa plodded slowly through the forest, unconcerned by the small game that crossed his path, even though his stomach was growling for attention. He was focused on how to find Sir Torin. Ashe Fork wasn't a huge place, but it could still be hard to find people. He was so preoccupied that he almost didn't hear the sounds of footsteps behind him. He whirled around, and came face to face with... Sir Torin? "Oh! Sir Torin, I apologize if I startled you."

[Petraverd]

Torin, having made his way to Ashe Fork from the castle, quirks a brow, not looking startled but perhaps slightly surprised... if one knows how to read his expression, that is.

"Quite all right. Afternoon to you."

[Korkoa]

"Good afternoon, sir." Korkoa said, bowing his head. "Uh... if I may ask... do you happen to know how one might get a position in the Narnian Guard?"

[Petraverd]

"I should certainly hope so, considering. Were you seeking a position for yourself?"

[Korkoa]

"Well... As a matter of fact, yes." Korkoa said. "Do you think you may be able to help me?"

[Petraverd]

Torin gives a small nod. "As I am primarily an archer, I doubt I would be the best one to go to, but I can certainly pass word along to those better suited for such decisions than I. I shall see what I can do."

He fingers the hilt of the sword at his side, as a corner of his mouth twitches slightly - what passes for a smile on Torin's generally blank features. "In the meantime, perhaps a little test of skill might be in order... so I might know precisely how to speak of you and your abilities."

[Korkoa]

Korkoa smiled, flexing his paws, and ready to unsheath his claws. "Agreed. How shall we do this?"

[Petraverd]

Torin gives a small nod. "Admittedly I may not be the best match, my swordwork can use a bit more... well, work, but I at least know what to look for when it comes to skill."

Saw enough of it when it came to my own brother, after all.

He jerks his head in a motion of beckoning. "There are better venues for such ventures than a road, however. Come."

With that, he starts towards the nearby practice field - a rather more open space, better designed for spars and such.

As he walks in silence, he finds his thoughts wandering.

I'm an /archer/, and I'm finding myself getting into a spar with a /leopard/... what in the world am I thinking.

Another slight twitch of a smile creeps onto his face as he answers himself.

Well, Tor certainly would have found it amusing, at any rate. He was always pushing me out of my little comfortable box... suppose I have to do that for myself now.

[Korkoa]

Korkoa grinned, unsheathing his claws. "I'll try to go easy on you." He joked, flexing his muscles, getting ready to pounce...

[Petraverd]

Torin turns and draws his sword, twirling it around a bit.

Feels almost as natural in my hand as my bow does, though it'll never equal it, I'm sure... maybe that's because it was Tor's.

"Don't worry too terribly about 'going easy,' just give me a good sampling of what you're capable of. We'll see how I'm able to deal with it. Whenever you're ready."

OOC: As per the stated rules of combat, three strikes each, and you may pounce first. As this is a friendly spar rather than a all-out fight, however, I don't think either one of us should worry too terribly about the results. :)

[Korkoa]

OOC: Agreed. Best of luck, and may the best cat win! :P

IC: Korkoa nodded, and leapt past Torin, swiping his claws at the mans exposed side...

[Petraverd]

Torin's expression remains unchanged as the great cat pounces towards him, save the fact his eyes widen a slight degree - apparently he's suddenly remembered just how much power a large feline can pack. Nevertheless, he doesn't lose his head, and attempts to make use of his own agility to avoid the swipe of the claws.

Tor always did tell me to act on my strengths, after all, and I always /was/ the more swift of the two of us...

Regardless, the feline acts according to his nature, and Torin is unable to avoid taking a fairly good-sized scratch - though not terribly deep. He winces, but loses no time in thrusting his blade, glinting in the sunlight, towards Korkoa's leg as it passes by.

[Korkoa]

Korkoa yelped as the blade sliced into his calf. "Not too deep" He thought, "but I should have it seen to." He landed on his feet, favoring his back leg, and pounced at Torin's chest, hoping to catch him off guard with the bold move, and knock him to the ground...

[Petraverd]

Torin barely has time to think before the leopard springs toward him directly. Acting on instinct, he attempts to move to the side, which isn't quite enough to avoid the pounce. It is enough, however, to at least take it more as a glancing blow rather than a full-on collision.

Still, a glancing blow from a rather heavy feline is enough to knock him to the ground.

Torin has the wind knocked out of him for a moment, and he reflects on how often he forgets to tailor his fighting style to his opponent, especially a... non-human opponent. He gets to his feet as swiftly as he can muster, and lunges at Korkoa's back leg.

[Korkoa]

Korkoa let out a primal scream as Torin slashed at his leg again, at the same spoy he had just cut him. Korkoa whirled and charged Torin's legs, dashing between them to trip him up...

[Petraverd]

Torin is more prepared this time around, but regardless loses his balance anyway as the leopard rushes him. He keeps his head on the way down, however, and thrusts as he goes over, hoping to prick /something/ belonging to the leopard, before he hits the ground with an unceremonious 'oomph.'

[Korkoa]

Korkoa saw the sword coming, and twisted his body so it did the least amount of damage. He got it in between his shoulder blades instead. He jumped away from Torin, favoring his back left leg.

OOC: That was 3 turns, right?

[Petraverd]

OOC: Yup, three turns it was. :D

IC: Torin gets to his feet again, giving a small nod. "I think that should give me enough of an idea to go on." He dusts himself off a little, wipes his sword, and sheathes it again. "Quite a lot of power you've got there. I shall be sure to mention such. Didn't cause too much damage myself, I hope?"

[Korkoa]

"Nothing that can't be mended." Korkoa said, a grin on his face. "That was incredible, we should do it again sometime!"

[Petraverd]

Torin's face flickers in another brief hint of a smile, enough to demonstrate his agreement. "Depending on how things go, we might get the chance to fairly often. As I said, I'm primarily an archer, my sword technique is nowhere near what my brother's was... and admittedly, one must know how others fight, both to properly counter them, and to be better able to fight alongside them."

He gives a small, cordial nod. "For which I thank you. I have found much to learn from in this little spar of ours."

[Korkoa]

"And I from you. Mainly, watch your opponensts sword carefuly." Ken laughed. "Well, I suppose I should get my leg looked at, do you know a good healer?"

[Petraverd]

"Well, Cair Paravel's healers do a fine job, they're there for a reason, after all. They'll most likely see you through the gates, so long as you're with me. Though considering it may be slightly hard to walk with an injured leg, there's one in the town as well that's a little closer. I have no personal experience with Ashe Fork's healer, though I've heard nothing but good reports. Up to you, I would suppose."

Torin gestures towards the gash in his side caused by Korkoa's claws. "In any case, I should have this looked at myself back at the castle. Small, and I've seen worse, but can't be too careful, after all."

[Korkoa]

"Well, considering that neither of us are in top condition, and these woods can be dangerous, I propose we travel together at least untill we reach the edge of the woods. And I wouldn't mind going to Cair Paravel." Korkoa said, grinning.

[Petraverd]

Torin simply nods a bit. "Very well then. We shall take it slow."

He tilts his head in the direction they're heading before starting off with the leopard in tow.

OOC: I'll let you respond to that before moving us to Cair Paravel.

[Korkoa]

Korkoa bowed gratefully and followed Torin towards the castle.

[Petraverd]

Torin meanders through Ashe Fork at a brisk pace, clearly having a destination in mind. Said destination happens to be the archery range, and as he approaches, he pulls his bow from his quiver and strings it.

He glances around to see another archer or two at practice, but for the most part, the range is quiet, something that Torin is glad for. He feels the need to sort through a few things, and would prefer a degree of solitude for such.

He chooses a position a little ways away from the others, and fits and arrow to the string of his bow. Taking a deep breath, he takes careful aim, and lets loose.

Slowly but surely, the archer works through his quiver, mind working all the while. In fact, it is difficult to tell which is the greater - the speed of Torin's thoughts, or the speed of his arrows as they leave his bowstring.

Whatever it was that occurred today, I will need to be alert. If it /was/ somebody's idea of a prank of some sort, it is not one we will want repeated. And if it wasn't... all the more reason for me to be on my guard. And yet... I cannot think of anything I might have done to bring about such a plot upon my person. So many questions... and then there are the circumstances that bring Lord Raoulin into question as well. What am I to make of it?

As Torin's thoughts race, his aim is perhaps not as true as usual, but as he sets his last arrow and fires, there is a satisfying *thock* as it embeds itself within the bulls-eye of the target.

(EDIT TO AVOID A DOUBLE POST)

After Torin retrieves his arrows, and a bit more time on the range with his thoughts, he turns and heads back for the castle.

[Mozart the Meerkitten]

Kikay wandered through the forest, her paws making no noise on the soft ground. The small white cheetah cub peered out of a bush to examine the world beyond her forest home for the umptenth time.

While she watched the human villagers walking about she wondered,

'Whats out there? Beyond where I live? In the village and Cair Paravel? I wonder....' stepping out of the bush she darted behind a tree trunk.

'I did it!' she thinks, 'I left the forest.... Now what?' stepping out she weaved between human's feet quickly, using her speed and newfound freedom.

[Radiant Susan]

Tami walks through the forest, trying to find someone to talk to. She had come from a small town to the north and had forgot the name of it by now. She didn't have that good of a memory anymore but knew that she was trying to get to Cair Paravel. There must be someone that I can interact with here. If only I had a companion that knew these parts so that they could show me how to get to my destination. She knew from a local that she had passed some time ago that it was a few days walk if she kept going straight. She had been going this way for awhile and decided to stop since it was starting to get dark. She collected a few sticks and made herself a small fire.

[Mozart the Meerkitten]

Kikay had wandered out of the village and back into the forest. She was not lost, for even at her age she knew almost every inch of the woodlands she lived in.
'Mama will be gone for awhile so she won't worry 'bout me iffin I'm late.' she thinks.
Then something catches her eye; a little campfire in the distance.
'Now who'd that be? None of us animals can light fires so it must be a human.' she goes to investigate.

[Radiant Susan]

Tami turns when she hears someone coming. She pulls out one of her daggers just in case she needs it and continues to look around for whatever she had heard. The fire helped warm her up since it was a bit cold and maybe someone else wanted to be warmed the same way. I'm still going to be cautious, though.

[Inkling]

OOC: Just wondering...did you request Tami? I don't recall it. If not, please go ahead and do so now. I'll let you know ASAP if there are any problems.

Thanks!

[Radiant Susan]

((I sent you a pm requesting her on the 23rd of November; did you get it?))

From Inkling: I believe I replied...if not, I'm sorry :(. Anyhow, we'll get this settled ;). Most characters are active elsewhere, but there's a cat still here, I believe. Leave me a profile message if you have any other questions and I'll try to be prompt.

[Mozart the Meerkitten]

Kikay waited for the mod and the maker of the fire to work things out.