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Post by The Blacksmith on Jun 14, 2004 7:18:48 GMT -5
*The constant clang of iron against metal could be heard through the village....to the Blacksmith of course, it was music to his ears. With every blow of his hammer the sphere was taking shape....a tap here a harder bash there. He was nodding to himself in agreement, whilst his two sons looked on...one using the bellows to keep the fire glowing..the other already beginning to shape another in the likeness his Father was working on. The idea in principal was a good one. These hollow balls would hold fabrics soaked in oil that would either be ignited before or after they had been sent on their way towards whatever target was in range. The lads hoped they would be able to be there when the Franks did finally arrive. Talk was that it would be a battle.....especially since that arrogant Captain had been kept within the Harbour. When he up anchored and went to his homeland....sure enough after that there was no doubt he would seek revenge of some kind. For now, they worked on.....giving their all towards protecting their homes and families. If it were not the Franks, then at least they would be ready for any invasion. Ranger Little was right to be alert, times were that nobody could be trusted. The Smith family spoke of times past and those yet to be...even agreeing between themselves that perhaps the arrogant Norseman might prove himself in this Battle. Clang....Clang.....thud.....the musical overture continued within the hot embers of the fire....sweat and tears would be spent over these spheres....but perhaps not the blood of Windstorm and her peoples if all went well.* ((ooc. Just to verify, the Ship is still in the Harbour and no real threat has been made......it is all speculation and heresay that a Battle will ensue. Of course nobody knows of the sailor that escaped and took word to his King and Countrymen.......yet ))
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Post by OOC on Jun 14, 2004 8:46:12 GMT -5
(That is correct, dear Blacksmith. The Frankish fleet still needs to get assembled and be granted permission for their little expedition. And no-one in WS yet knows about the escaped sailor and the news he brought to the Frank court )
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Post by Dream Loxley on Jun 14, 2004 15:32:36 GMT -5
*He had seemed distant for days now, something was amiss......something was weighing heavily upon his shoulders.....broad and strong as they were...it was a burden...she could see such was so and could do nothing to aid him.
Watching him speak with Sir Dorian....their hushed voices telling so much without the actual words being spoken aloud......she knew then that whatever had ailed him so was to do with the defence of the realm...of their home. No other reason would he have to seek council with the Hawk, no other reason for such a secretive liason.
Indeed he had greeted all within the Hall, with respect and polite charm......that normal grin he bestowed upon the Ladies....the sparkle within his eyes when he smiled at her alone....and yet.....it was not so bright.....there was something he was hiding, but she had left him to speak with his fellow Knight....she carried out her duties and enjoyed pleasantries with Lady Andrea and the guest Sir Matthias. This was Castle business and she respected his need to speak alone, without her beside him.
She tried her best to push all fears and worries from her mind from that moment on.....he left to go about his patrols.....those whispered words of love...that special smile.....she felt safe...secure....but she knew he was concerned and all would reveal itself soon enough....she was sure of such as she continued about her own duties. She could only hope it was nothing as bad as the last invasion and she shuddered suddenly to remember it so vividly*
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Post by Dorian Hawkmoon on Jun 15, 2004 13:29:04 GMT -5
The dawn greeted slowly....a cloudless day, it would be, and perfect for that which He wished to accomplish. While He stood upon the battlements with Sgt. Gerben, the contigent of Guards and soldiers awaited in the courtyard...most weilded axes, though a few bore the long, two person saws to eat through the boles of the larger trees. They awaited His command, and as the sun fully rose above the horizon, He nocked the specially fletched arrow to the string....special in that it was fletched with bright yellow, instead of the usual black....drawing back as He raised the bow and sighted...and as He felt the fletching touch His ear, He released the shaft towards the nearby forest. Lowering the bow, He turns to Gerben, who had accompanied Him this morn...
"Mark that shaft, Sergeant...and have the trees and brush cleared back accordingly..." He turns and makes His way to the steps leading back down into the Castle as Gerben barks out the order. His own sharp eyes having noted where the arrow had landed, He knew it would not take long to accomplish the task, for this was as a ritual to Him....done every Spring and Fall...clearing back the forest to a good bowshot from the castle. He descends the stairs and makes His way to the small room that serves as His office, for He has a multitude of tasks that He wishes accomplished this day.
He reaches His destination, and after closing the door behind Him, He eases His frame into the chair and begins. First, there is the matter of the new recruits...He looks over the report and nods a bit....Good... this crop will bring the numbers to 300...and well over half have prior experience of varying sorts. His last inspection of the armoury had please Him much more than the one prior....the weaponry was now up to the par He required. Also, the catapults and ballistae had been repaired, or replaced as needed...and good large iron kettles had been acquired. Later this day, He would inspect the storehouses...to make certain there was enough dry stores laid in for an emergency.
He turned His attention to other reports now.....those from His eyes and ears....His secret watchers...nothing much of note....that is, until He reads the last one....and as He does, His brow furrows. Some time ago, after the incident concerning Lady Beren, He had decided that it would be prudent to keep tabs on the goings on within the Frankish court...Oh, He knew them well, these Franks.....knew their roots were as barbaric as the English....however much they pretended at civility....and He had found one that would serve His purpose. It was a message from that one that now so furrowed His brow...for it spoke of some type of unrest ....and of a nobles visit to Charles for an as yet undisclosed purpose, though Windstorm had been mentioned. He sits back, staring ahead in thought....Now Sir Robin's words made sense....too MUCH sense...."Who left that ship, ere We started counting them..." He steepled His fingers before Him....Aye, who indeed...and if one did indeed slip away before the ship was in effect impounded...what was said?...He rose from His chair then, His mind set....He would seek out His Liege...speak with Him....tell Him of Sir Robin's concerns...and now, His own...and as He looked to the closet where He kept His arms, He grimly prayed that He was wrong....Lords, how He longed to be wrong.....
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Post by Dream Loxley on Jun 15, 2004 13:52:20 GMT -5
((ooc....... Woooo hooooo ....just loves when these guys get going! . Splendid....splendid ))
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Post by Halethala on Jun 16, 2004 9:43:44 GMT -5
((*Links arms with Dream to watch along, wishing she had her mother's blade back to help defend the Ladies* Aye . . . awesome!))
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Post by Dream Loxley on Jun 17, 2004 3:19:56 GMT -5
(( ooc. *Hands Halethala a kitchen knife and winks*.... Don't you sit and watch.... jump on in and have fun ))
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Post by Ranger Nicholas on Jun 17, 2004 7:38:58 GMT -5
The time in Windstorm had done him good but now it was time for him to ride again. Nicholas had made ready his weapons and tool, had new shoes be put onto Kilian's hooves, and had asked Mollie to mend a few of his cloths for him. A shirt, two pants, a cloak.
Most of the time Nicholas had spend healing from a shoulder would he had sustained when he had helped Lady Halethala and her Norse suitor. Now his shoulder was feeling like new, he had almost his old range of motion back and was again wielding his sword and the bow with skill and power.
Many new people he had met here, a luxury rangers seldom had when serving in the wilderness. Two men who looked identical, who had defied the teachings of mother church, but consequently helped Nicholas to open his mid a bit more to those things condemned by the church. Maybe it was a dangerous path these men had led him onto, Nicholas was grateful for the opportunity to have met Lords Sighehelm and Righarde nonetheless.
And not the least he was grateful for another Kent visitor who had graced windstorm these days. Lady Sadhbh had been a delight to talk to... too much so even... his heart had been in turmoil for a brief moment until he remembered his station in life. Until he remembered that his and the lady's station were different and that their paths would likely never cross again. And so a small flame, kindled within a few short afternoons, was extinguished again. out of necessity, out of duty.
How he wished he could have spoken with lady Halethala more often these past few days. Alas, she was ill, and besides, she was spoken for. it would have been unseemly for Nicholas to be with her more than he had, he argued, yet deeply regretted the missed opportunities for him and that strong woman to speak.
Maybe the next time, when the looming danger lying over the realm was past, and Nicholas would return home once again.
He now waited for his final order to move out, to be of use, to defend his home and the people within, to die if his Lord called for such a sacrifice. To serve The Lord until his final breath.
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Post by sadhbh on Jun 17, 2004 8:11:20 GMT -5
*Sadhbhs horse brought her through the courtyard where she heard slipped words of the prospect of war. She looked back to Edwin with a furrowed brow then watched as the man cautioned her to silence* Your brother will tell you later m'Lady Sadhbh, do not worry your young head of it. *Sadhbh lowered her eyes a moment and frowned. She looked to a woman pass her by, the worry on her face. T'was enough to make her heart break. They dismounted and Sadhbh spoke again*...but I shall worry, tis nae a mans sole plight should these rumours be true *she whispered afore falling into contemplative silence. Edwin grumbled to himself, the woman thought too much he thought*
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Post by Dream Loxley on Jun 17, 2004 9:25:35 GMT -5
*The storeroom door was slightly ajar.....not unusual...but as she slipped quietly into the room...she shivered...feeling his presence more so than seeing him. Often she would see a kindness within his eyes...but when confronted by the large dark frame within the shadows of a dimly lit room...she could not help but gasp softly until she recognised him fully. He seemed to have been counting.....taking stock of the amounts of dried goods.....we had a good harvest....the Castle should eat well enough she knew....it was her duty to know. The question begged to be answered....and yet she hesitated as her stomach churned.
He would know she was there.... always he knew, they did not call him Hawk for no reason. Indeed, he probably knew she was there before the door even opened fully.....but why. She swallowed hard... her mouth was dry...there was nothing to swallow....were her fears justified.... was this why her beloved Robin was distant. So many questions rushed to her mind leaving her heart shadowed with fear of the unknown. Many a time she had felt such and the images now made her tremble. She wanted to speak....needed to ask him but the nausea now that consumed her made her voice but a strangled whisper. Gone was the confident Chatelaine...in her place stood a frightened woman.... a Mother....a Wife...a simple being who would never stand a chance if her fears were to come to fruition.*
"M'Lord...... Dorian....ye startled me......please.....may I be of aid to ye"...*she finally asked him.*
She moved closer to him... his features illuminated now by the torch burning safely within its wall sconce. HIs face never gave anything away....sometimes he smiled...when he was truly touched by jollities....sometimes he showed his anger..she had witnessed that many a time. Now as he stood there....he was void of emotions.....but when he looked at her...she saw for a fleeting moment what she had feared herself.
As her eyes drifted to the sacks and baskets filled to their brims, she found herself nodding.....as if suddenly she had made sense of everything. What other reason could there be for him to be here.....it was but her gut feeling....an instinct as so often she had felt.....a heavy burden to carry at times, but now she knew.....she was right to be afraid.*
"We can be frugle....nae a one would notice iffn cook did nae prepare so much for a while, none shall starve with a little less......would such help Sire....iffn....iffn the need 'twas so?"
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Post by Dorian Hawkmoon on Jun 17, 2004 23:10:06 GMT -5
He had left the door ajar, not having planned it taking long to finish the tally. He counted swiftly and efficiently, making a note here and there..and was satisfied at wht He'd found. Windstorm had had a bounteous crop, and the storerooms were filled to capacity...and as a result of last year's scare with the rats and vermin, they were clean as could be. He found no trace of droppings, and that pleased Him more than anything else. His mind worked on a separate level as He worked, however....thoughts bent upon the words of Sir Robin....and the missive from His contact in France...And He thought of de Sennis, cooling His heels aboard His ship...could one of the crew have slipped away with a missive to some unknown ally unbeknownst to them?...'Twas what He would have done, had it been Him in a similiar situation...but how to know for sure...
Suddenly, He heard a soft noise just outside the door....whirling as His hand reaches for the dagger at His hip...then stops short of drawing it as he recognises a woman's form. It takes but an instant for His eyes to recognise the face of Lady Dream...and He sees teh fright in Her eyes....the soft gasp of indrawn breath as She raises a hand to Her lips. Immediately He moves His hand away and greets Her in a soft (for Him), yet reassuring tone...
"Good day, M'Lady....I'm sorry if I startled Ye....'tis just that Ye caught Me in thought as I worked..." He turns slightly, sweeping a gesture at the neatly filled storeroom..."I were just...confirming that We had ample stores in case of an emergency, M'Lady....good steel and strong men are adequate, but worthless with an empty belly..."
He can see now the worry etched upon Her face....but nae worry for Herself.....rather for Her Home....Her husband....Her Family...and He wishes there was something He could do to assuage Her fears....but how can he reassure Her, when He has those same fears? He knew that some thought Her frail, at times...burdened by the fears of a truly warm and loving heart...a heart that oft times cared more for others, that it did for itself. This Woman was strong....She had always been strong, though most simply couldn't see it. But He had....and She would be strong once more....for that was simply the Lady Dream Loxley He knew..and loved as Family...
"I nae believe the time for frugality is upon us, M'Lady....We have stores aplenty....", He answers a bit evasively....'but I trust completely in Thy judgement should it come to pass that We must, indeed, be frugal..."
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Post by Dream Loxley on Jun 18, 2004 9:09:53 GMT -5
*She took in every word he spoke.....tasting it....devouring it.......then swallowing it as if to feed a hunger.....but still she was hungry. Hungry for the truth she saw but briefly within his dark forboding eyes...for one even slighter moment within his features.
Her head nodded politely.....she found her smile.....the one that showed confidence and strength when needed.....far too oft of late, when all she wished to do was cry or curl up within her beloveds arms...protected and safe. The smile was in place......she understood and nodded again, as if to reassure herself more than he.*
"Aye.....ye did startle me a moment M'Lord......as I nae expected to see ye here"
*It was then that her smile became genuine...the truth within her voice and her eyes......she did trust him...with her life and that of her family...she had never doubted his abilities to protect them all...and never would doubt. Without thinking, she lifted her right hand and gently touched his arm...a gesture not often made, she resisted always the urge to hold him to her...to try with any means possible to still his own fears.......he has them...she knows he does....but he keeps them hidden or else he would simply become a normal man. Such would never be so......and she laid her land upon him tenderly and with an understanding.
Her words were gentle and lost within the large room as she spoke.*
"And I shall keep my trust in ye.......as I always have done Dorian"
*Her hand dropped to her side.....she bowed her head to him in respect and moved towards the door.......whatever he had planned within his mind....she would not be privvy to this day....or mayhaps any day...but for now....she knew what she must do and what may come to pass. She left the door slightly ajar as she had found it and went about her duties.*
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Master Sergeant Gerben
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Post by Master Sergeant Gerben on Jun 21, 2004 4:53:31 GMT -5
*The words of his Captain had been clear: don't allow for pannick, but be prepared. May God damn those Franks to hell if they threathened the peace of Windstorm. Gerben didn't look forward to another battle but by God any man that set foot on their shores without peaceful intentions would meet Gerbens blade on his way. He had served under the old Stormblade, he served now under the new King. He had trained under many, and each had left their mark upon him.
No ennemy would find Windstorm Castle unprepared. His first concern was the recruits. Would they be ready if push came to shove? Training was intensified, inspections happened daily, and discipline was instilled. It would save their lives should it come to it!*
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Post by Sinold Bragasson on Jun 23, 2004 4:37:10 GMT -5
After returning home, Sinold threw himself at his other important task set to him by Ranger Little – the building of those ship platforms for the catapults that would break any approaching enemy ship's mast. With verve Sinold set to organizing the work – directing men in the selection of wood for the bow and for the sides of the platforms. Since Lord Hawkmoon had just recently have the forest around Windstorm Castle cleared, there was plenty of wood available for building, and men from all walks of life joined in the effort of building, strangely having no qualms about a Norse directing them. it seemed that Sinold was growing with the task. He usually didn't like to command, but here he was in his element and knew what he was talking about. Lots of food and ale was provided by the Castle so that no man went hungry or thirsty after his work was done, and soon there was even some kind of comradery forming between Rangers and commoners, guards and craftsmen. all understood the purpose and the danger that needed to be warded off and this gave their work even more purpose.
Often now, Sinold stayed on the beach the whole day, hewing planks and drilling holes for the dowels, fashioning the dowels themselves. He also regularly went over to the Blacksmith to oversee the fashioning of the hollowed metal spheres which came along nicely.
All in all, it was good to be back home and to work for one's safety, and nowadays Sinold had so many more he wished to ensure the safety for.
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Master Sergeant Gerben
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Post by Master Sergeant Gerben on Jun 24, 2004 6:05:09 GMT -5
*Master Sergeant Gerben didn't see much rest, save for sleeping and eating. He oversaw trainings, spotchecked the watches, talked with his captain, and could be seen at ten places at once, managing always to look stoically calm and measuring. IF the words were true, and IF the Franks followed through, they would need every man. They needed to repell them and make it quick and clean. Windstorm could not afford a war that dragged on, with the Franks having an endless suply of troups.
Riding along the cliffs he looked down at the beach and grinned. Sinold seemed to come into his own. A short blast on his horn drew the attention from the workers down. The signal of the guards. His hand rose up in greeting, silhouetted by the morning sun behind him.*
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