| January 2006 | << December 2005 | February 2006 >> |
| The Halved Barn |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
Few enough of villagefolk in the Lazing Mule ... beyond the kitchen and ale-cellar, leastways. Jalla keeps an inn for merchant folk, aye, and Two Springs spears paid with taxed merchant coin these past seasons.
No, farmfolk take their ale in the Halved Barn, stone and thatch away from the Stone Road and near the orchards. Like fishers and thieves on the dockside, they'll keep to their own casks, and slow to warm to traveling folk come to the door. The innkeep is friendly enough for Port folk as ourselves, aye, even seafarers come along the Road to Three Stones, but trade and sailing on it is. If I'm to be drinking, it's to be with song, a good crew and a warm fire, mark me, not ill stares and whispers.
Aye, afore the fair at One Stone, even Two Springs is bursting with folk. Players prancing on the grass, young folk showing off a winter of cloth and needlework, summer traders chasing fair coin and mules to overflow the stables yonder. Come from the Stone Road too late in the day and the boards of the Halved Barn might be all there is for sleep, aye, and that for too much coin!
But enough! Tis late and late for tale and song; early we'll be rising, the better to rest at One Stone and far from the Whisperwood when night next falls.
[ Posted by Reason on January 31, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Two Brothers Meet After First Snow |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
By the saltblocks! A fine day it is for seafarer and spear to be meeting with ale on the hilltop. Warm and bright, and so soon after first snow! I was afeared we see no better than two summers hence, rain and rain fit for a new sea, and us wet over poor ale and mud in the Lazing Mule. Wet I know, and wet should be with salt and song, not doused as merchants under wood and thatch.
You have the longer road to Two Springs, aye, hence it's my coin buys the ale - and you the eel to carry the cask. You'll raise your claws just the same with each new summer, and we'll do just the same ... leastways til you return to Port, or I lose my senses and leave the dockside for Three Stones. There would be a fine song to be sung!
Aye, mud there is aplenty, but mud there always will be. Look down and yonder, spears treading up the Stone Road to Port - all the more to stand about the Guild Bridge for thieves' coin, making trouble for honest folk this summer, mark me. Better for we eels to be on the other slope, rocks and thorns aside - I'd give more coin for a view of fields and the far Whisperwood this day.
Craws and spines! Same eyes as I you have, for all you put them to no use, carrying a spear in your City Within. Out and far, see the ruins there, a half-cast to the wood and beyond the farmfolk. Like as the fishers say stands in the Low Marsh where no folk hunt, or cursed Lorn - naught so sorry as a home without folk, aye.
[ Posted by Reason on January 27, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Lady of Field, Orchard and Farmfolk |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
Not to forget the Lady, now, afore we build up the orchard walls this day. Commonfolk we may be, but work enough and you and yours will be a Power of Creation, and there's a truth. You start with the tumble from where the tree fell in midwinter, and I'll take to finding hold-stones - and none of your idling, mark me!
Happened and truth that the Lady tended field, orchard and goat-pen under the Ammand moon - and the best of all farmfolk she came to be, for all her noble blood. No farm the like it in all Creation, I say! She passed the end of her Road, as for all folk, passed from the Ammand, but her ways were told - and farmfolk listened. So it is, well and well, the mark of Lady Moonlit upon the last rock we set here.
Tis good work, but mark me, work can always be better! Remember that when next casting an eye to the Lady.
[ Posted by Reason on January 26, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Visitor's Cottage, Stranger's Field |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
Lell, now, she has a heart to her, cried fit to die twixt midwinter and last snow - when the Lost half-folk came from the Farthest Fields two summers past and died of I know not what. Since and now she's kept the Visitor's cottage cleaned, cut the vines from the Beautiful Stranger in white stone, chased out the grime. More's the pity, I say, than when she gave eyes to us and ours. Harard's grandfather knows the old folks' song of a time the statue was brought from Port and the cottage given to red-eyed, strange-tongued folk, folk who lived here as we do afore the Traveler called them elsewhere in Creation. Ah, but who is to say?
I know this, and mark me, tis a stranger's cast-off green that grows in the field by the Visitor's cottage. Given over it is, like the Farthest come to the Enclave, and neither goat nor bird will take to it. Still and well - with Davet's brother Lost in the fields these seasons since the stranger's storm, best to speak of Lell and tell of a likewise cottage under the eye of the Beautiful Stranger, tell of a Farthest Village of kindly, honest folk.
[ Posted by Reason on January 23, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Spring Water and the Strangers' Pool |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
Well and well, you'll not be the first spear to ask, not since you and yours chased the young folk from their bathing where the spring streams meet, with your leers after daughters and rough ways. A man is a man, spear or not, but there's ways and ways about - best to learn those to win you friends amongst folk, I say. Elas and our Council may speak fine and well, but there'll be fewer spears come next summer lest broken ways are mended.
Strangers' Pool it is, for a generation now, since young folk came running and screaming from Trespassers. The Pool is far enough from orchard and cottage that we found nothing but the smell of them and a strangeness to the water, but linger it did, in the waters and in the heart. Young folk now forget these tales, or don't believe the telling of them - but they're the only folk in Two Springs who'll brave the Pool.
All young folk look to the moon a little - and who's to say there is wrong in that? Mayhaps spears have naught to fear from strangers come from far, mayhaps not. My hair is whitened, but I am no sage to know such; mark me, mind, I'd not be one to use water where the spring streams meet.
[ Posted by Reason on January 22, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Spears Against Guildfolk |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
By the King's Spear! You'll not be walking Port streets this summer or next, not while coin and pretty farmfolk girls are to be found a strong arm's cast from this very doorway. You Coast Road folk, the salt sits in your hearts - but you still came for coin dug from village councillors by Elas of the Company. Blood! Just as I or Merrine, and there's the truth, long and sharp as this spear.
Coin for thieves? Hah! May as well be coin thrown into the Lothar and washed to sea - the only thief worth the name in Two Springs is the one to have taken Merrine's heart, and him moonfaced after her this past season. A real thief from the City Without to knock spear to head good and hard, now that I'd give coin for.
No, a purse to catch a thief, naught but pretty words to keep spears Elas brought from Guard and militia from their ale - and the more for him thereby, blood! We'll earn our coin when greed for a full coinbox and cries of merchant folk bring the Trade Guild from warm beds and salt air - bring spears from Port alongside, mark me.
Two seasons more, I say, but the King's Way will be calling me after first snow - cold and Neth, mayhaps, but there'll be honest coin for it and honest spearpriests to lead past the River Road.
[ Posted by Reason on January 21, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| False Coin From the Farthest City |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Three Stones > Local Color |
False lead this is, hidden amidst good Temple coin - see here the way it slides too much or too little into the coinbox, see here the weight of it and the shape of it. No, this is no coin from the priests of the Vessel ... but it hasn't the look of thieves to it, mind. That, now, that is something in the heart for merchant folk, to know the touch of thievery from afar - but who is to say whether the Farthest City touches on pouches and coffers just as on roads and cityfolk.
No now, another mayhaps, but you I know well; we have traded for seasons, and seasons before I have packed casks for Ganneth who counted the same coin to Talmur ends. The Watch will hear nothing of it - but take the wisdom of trading folk to heart and send this lead back to the Farthest whence it came.
[ Posted by Reason on January 21, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| A Golden Vale and the Farthest Fields |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Gold Vale |
Close the shutters, Nera! Tis a dull view to be eating to, awaiting first snow, sheltered or not. Would that the vale were gold with flower in all seasons, but even grass is gone to thoughts of winter now - and I'd not be having the sight from your windows reminding me of Krineth's hills and what's to be found there. Let us talk of better and brighter afore the heart is darkened.
I recall a day, many summers ago, not long past first snow when the flowers open; I climbed the vale to fetch gray rock and brown for walls and paths, as there's those with coin to pay for such. So much gold in the grass, scarce could folk look across the fields, and there's the truth. But saw that and more, did I, for I watched my feet and not the way around and about the nearest crags - out and far I saw across the Farthest Fields, saw a hundred colors and strangers' flowers as nothing I've seen in all my seasons. The Beautiful Stranger granted me that, and well and grateful I remain.
[ Posted by Reason on January 21, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Spears Against Whispers |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
Blood! This is good ale! I won't be asking whence it came, mark me, but coin will be found, come spears or blades, afore the next cask rolls to my feet.
Coin the Council has aplenty, and coin beyond that, I say. Watching young Rannal count gold on gold for the spears I've called, now there's a call for ale! Tax the merchants for the Stone Road and give coin to the spears say the Council, and trader purses grow fatter than the coffers of the spearpriests under the summer sun, that I know. Let the Trade Guild wail and shed tears - a fine vengeance for every coin charmed from honest folk by thieves dressed in merchant finery, and there's the truth of it!
By the Emerald, were there ever a finer purse to be taking than that of Two Springs! Tallun, now, he has it in his fattened heart that the Whisperwood will up and walk on roots to claim the old beams and posts of manse and hall. Blood! It's a dire place, and there's that and true, but not one tree of it can be seen least you climb the hills - and then good and far. Fear in fine clothes means a loose purse, and spears well kept, mark my words. You'll not see a spear's courage given to where it has no place, no, for coin is coin.
[ Posted by Reason on January 19, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Coin for the Wizardry of True Islemarks |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
Every fisher touched by Magi blood can carve lines in driftwood taken from the same Unending Sea once sailed by wizardry and tradeships. Seafarers carve and daub and speak of marks handed down from Magi of the Isles; yet there is no more wizardry in that driftwood, nor on prow, door, nor red iron from the Guild, than was before. No, it is to me you have come for true marks of the Isles, for remnants of old wizardry.
Afore the Vanishing, when tradeships brought your folk from afar, there was much of wizardry in Creation. The Magi made rivers of the Unending Sea, servants of the wind and rain, the better to carry great vessels to a hundred ports. Marks and signs were but the very least of the wonders of the Isle, garnered from the corners of Creation, but that least is all that remains - few of darker blood have but even that. You pale folk of spears and the land, you have no sense of sea, of salt and wizardry. You are blind to what is lost.
And what would be my living in Port? Who of the cityfolk to tell of old wizardry amidst pretty islemarks cast as eelscales upon the fishers? I hear the Unending Sea and passage of tradeships in the bubbling of streams from the springs, and the echo of vanished Magi in the trade of worthy folk who know well enough to find me. Well and well, it is a kind enough road for an old fisher, too old to pull on lines and sails.
[ Posted by Reason on January 19, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| The Lazing Mule |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Two Springs |
Aye, and there's the Lazing Mule, and none too soon with the sun low and feet worn from the Stone Road. Lanterns lit and hung already, mark me, and that would be right and proper were she a vessel afloat.
Tis easy enough to see the name, I say, but a sight harder to say whether a mule means four legs and hide or two legs and a coin pouch. Plenty enough of the latter you'll be seeing inside, aye. Certain merchant folk take to arriving twixt the hills all too early in the day, the better to drink themselves to a sodden head by the next morning. You and I - and these two spears, by Salin's long left hand! - will be the better for a night of rest such as honest folk take.
Aye, and there's that. More coin than I'd like goes to Two Springs for the passage, for what little is given in return. Roofing the Council manse in chains, we trader folk may as well be. Craw and spine! But coin not poured away to ale is coin for toll and tax at Three Stones, mark me, and there will be need for both - honest rest it is!
Remember, lad, nothing of trade and coin inside the Lazing Mule; Jalla can't abide the talk of merchant folk, for all she was striding the Stone Road just as we are for ten summers, and ten winters likewise. Aye, and she and her folk are big and broad, just like her inn. Find yourself out and upside-down, you will, and a plate broken on your head for measure - aye, and there'll be no shortage of laughing and pointing for more seasons than you'd like, I'll wager.
It's not all spears and blades; the spined eel is stuffed, spiced and still good this far from honest salt and the Unending Sea - and Salin's crew wouldn't run from the ale casks. Aye, none of the commonfolk fare from land, tree and field as we'll be suffering in Three Stones, and there's a thing worth the coin.
[ Posted by Reason on January 17, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Forbidden Gems |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Three Stones > Local Color |
By the fires! That is a true gem, by the yellow and glint of it, not of Enclave soil, no. There are those who would ask sharp questions of commonfolk from the City Without upon seeing such in their possession, sharp questions and at the point of spear and blade, mark me. You hold worth without measure in your palm, and a struggle it is to turn the immeasurable into coin for the counting. How would Arith have found better from the Emerald, green from the old Ammand, than to shatter it to thirty slivers with one deft blow? No gold could match the first thirty of the Company she drew about her, thirty green-gemmed broaches still kept with a memory of greatness in the heart.
It has a look to it, a Burning, as do you, who came to our Library and paid the red gate toll from coin best used for hunger. You Seek, or I would give you the words of the wisest of sages, hidden in their Black Tower; to put fresh soil atop the gem in a far place and forget of it, lest it bring greater misery that you might imagine. But let me tell a tale instead, and leave you to Truth and the choosing of roads.
There was a time, when the Council of Traders was young and the Lady Verden spoke with true noble blood, that there were three gemcutters who plied their trade on the Great Way - but their coin came from noble manses, and yet more from the weight their words bore on the Council. Just as now, not a gem was hefted from left hand to right without coins to the Council - and few gems these seasons with there but one aged gemcutter in all Three Stones ... under Council eyes, mark me, and I need not say more to one from the City Without. Radelan has three long generations of what noble folk call wisdom; the holding of his own, and the path of hired spear and blade from his eyes to yours were your true gem to come into the light of day, by the Temple Fires!
In that past generation, Radelan's predecessors - the whole city, by the words of The Raft of the Black Tower - were set upon their heads by a Reddened Visitor. He who brought a bottomless sack of true gems, yellow and perfect from the Farthest Market, just as that which you hold in your hand. Fifty he traded hither and thither for the works of commonfolk, come through the red gate to the Grand Market and gifted with untold wealth. Gifted too with the wrath of gemcutters and the Council of Traders, and soon enough by Guard spears at the calling of nobles. The Reddened Visitor was chased from the City Within to the Farthest, so The Raft tells, or locked away to waste to bones - though this was long before Watch and Temple turned bitter to Visitors and dared the worst from the Beautiful Stranger.
So it was that true gems from the Reddened Visitor came by trade and left at the points of spears; some to nobles, some lost, some to those of the City Without - to those who take with greatest skill and forcefulness. Thief's Favors, they are, to mark those tasks and debts that must be marked most deeply - what better use for wealth beyond measure, wealth beyond coin, wealth forbidden by the Council of Traders?
[ Posted by Reason on January 12, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Tall Markers on Wide, Paved Streets |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Three Stones > Local Color |
The streets of the City Within are wide and solidly paved in grey stone. At each crossing of ways stands a marker; a tall iron rod set into a square stone base, each topped by a different design. Here a comical merchant figure or iron beckoning hand, there ten wooden balls in a ring or a pennent in green and brown. These markers serve the same purpose as route markers on the Known Roads; they can be clearly seen over the heads of a crowd and help to keep cityfolk from the Unmarked Ways that lead to the Farthest City - or from what passes for unfriendly Watch blades in those closest parts of Creation not of the Enclave.
Scrolls from generations past, lost amidst many others in the Library of the City Within, tell that marker stones once bore representations of the Traveler, the King of All the Ammand and noble families of Three Stones. All of these engravings are now of the flame of Burning Truth, however, as befits markers maintained by lesser priests of the Temple of Powers.
[ Posted by Reason on January 7, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| The Road of Spears |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Three Stones > People and Places > Taverns |
The Road of Spears is a little more than piled ale-casks, wooden slats for shade, open walls and bundled spears for posts. It stands, such as it is, atop the lowest grey stone blocks at the unfinished end of the City Wall closest to the Guard Keep. Those within overlook the coming and going of Guard spears from the Keep and Great Way - and, often as not, spearpriests and their followers from the King's Keep, come from the New Road and through the red iron gate of Three Stones.
Spearmen, Guard and their friends crowd the Road of Spears from the middle of the day until dusk, for the ale is cheap and plentiful. Casks are rolled along the Great Way from the Grand Market across the City Within by tens, morning and night - commonfolk say it's Lord Dren's coin that pays the traders. There are no steps up to the makeshift Guard tavern, however, and few commonfolk are helped up span-high blocks by the spears above.
The Road of Spears is named for an ancient, half-forgotten song, and a tale older still - a tale of spearmen of the old Ammand, betrayed and beset. A standing spear stood above each of the fallen on the long road between two cities; in the end, only one of the company remained to ensure the tale was told. The song is known to spearpriests, the tale to sages, but commonfolk and honest spears of the Enclave know little of such distant times and places.
[ Posted by Reason on January 6, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
| Lost Lord Parnur |
| The Enclave > Known Roads > Three Stones > Local Color |
Here and here is the reason I don't begrudge the Watch their time atop the city walls on the blackest of nights. Tis those times when the moon is far and small behind thick cloud from the Farthest Sky, and honest folk are abed, when Lord Parnur lights his lamp to find his way amidst the stones of the Gravefields.
Parnur was an old noble family, blood from the old Ammand and across the Unending Sea by Magi tradeship, straight as a hung chain. Why, if you were fool enough to brave Neth in the hills, you'd see grand Parnur tombs beyond those of Verden, Dren and Talmur. But the Lord Parnur who puts fear into Watch hearts was never sent to the last family tomb, no, for all he was the last of his name. Those were the generations of cruel Neth come from Krineth's Hills, come down to spoil the tombs and slay priests. Yes and yes, and even Lords and Ladies graced the Gravefields in those generations, leaving grand tombs in the hills to filth and decay. Noble folk built white stone monuments beside the markers of commonfolk like us, and the Gravefields swelled.
The Traveler holds out the same hand to all of us at the end of our Road, be we Lords, thieves or honest folk, mark my words - but not to the last Lord Parnur. He searches the Farthest Graves for the mausoleum of his wife, searches still and Lost so utterly that he wanders even from the Road of his life - ever older but never passing from the world. Lord Parnur is spurned even by the Beautiful Stranger in his endless search, and who may cast the blame for that?
By all the Powers, that is the truth of it, and why folk look not to the Gravefields on the darkest nights.
[ Posted by Reason on January 2, 2006 | Permanent Link ]
