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Marcon Trail -to- the front gates of Dawnhaven 5am-7am
Marcon,
Rose whinnied and snorted growing impatient for her rider to rise so she could eat. Lightly pawing at the wooden wheels with her front hoof. Only stopping when she heard the grumbling of Marcon from inside. She gave a hearty snort in reply. Hearing him stomp the floor while putting on his boots.
"I'm awake Rose." He stated loudly. Then added in a quiet whisper and smirk,
"...You nag." To which he heard her kick the cart causing the warrior to simply smile and shake his head. He stretched and rubbed his face with both hands before giving the gruff visage a good slap. Opening the canvas a little to peak outside the moon had everything brighter, both a blessing and a danger. With sword sheathed to his back he donned the leather dark brown cloak and stepped out. Patting Rose on her neck as she hit him with her head to his chest.
"I know breakfast first." She was a good horse better then he was a rider at times yet he felt she was getting a little too demanding as the years went by. Maybe because he doted on her so. He saw the other four were still about and set to giving her a bag of feed strapping it to her face as he went about the makeshift camp.
The traps were un touched and he collected them checking for any foot prints in the snow. He decided to leave the canvas up and had some more trail jerky with the water skin he kept in the cart by his side as to not freeze.
"We got a few hours ride until we reach this new land. I'm counting on all of you to follow Rose." Giving morning pep talks to comrades was practically in his blood.
"I want us sharp on the road." He wished he had brought a cross bow but he wasnt very good with them, and he never bothered to get one like he had planned to all those months ago. Hooking up the two new recruits to the wagon and the others to the rear he flicked the leather leads giving a light slap to the team. He clicked his tongue twice and they were off slowly cutting through the snow and back on the trail. The old man kept hunched over and hidden his eyes not as sharp as they were he relied more on his hearing.
The forest about them was alive with sounds of birds and insects chirping, always a good sign. When they stopped was to know danger was about. The bight moon light was reflected in the surrounding snow as they traveled, the old soldier could see the breath from his nose like some old gnarled dragon breathing sulfur in his cave daring any fool hearty enough to disturb his slumber. Marcon admitted he never fought one but would rather had just met one to talk to such an old spirit... just once. Monsters were nothing new to him.
In his experience he had always found the most fearsome monster to be nothing more then creative men wearing the skins of beasts, making rutting sounds to prey on the weak. Lot of superstitious nonsense. The reports of the blight and these motherless creatures that snatched infants from their crying mothers gave him half hope that there was still some mystery in the world, the other half was more practical picturing a drunken sort seeing a thief in some war paint. Either way, a fitting final adventure to a long and bloody life. Along the road he thought of his warm bed empty and the dark hearth. The cold air biting at his lungs. Like hell he would die in that box no matter how comfortable and warm it was. The road was his real home and if death wanted Marcon's company then the reaper would have to give the old champion a truly worthy reason to leave. The old man smirked his tell tale of excitement an flicked the reigns harder.
"Lets go see what death has in store for us!" The horses picked up the pace.
"What a shit hole." He glanced about the make shift gates and non existent perimeter. "Give me ten men and this place would be mine in an hours time." He thought quietly to himself. The cart slowly rolled to a stop at the 'gates' of Dawn haven. The old man didnt make any fast moves just a slight turn of his cloaked head at the two pups acting as guardsmen.
"I am a tradesman. I am looking for work." He stated loudly enough to be heard.
The left guard stepped closer, such a rookie move. The other brandishing a spear held his ground. The old man slowly removed his hood and much to his ...dissapointment neither knew of him by their reaction. Old legends fade faster then parchment in a fire it seemed. After the little kid was done rummaging about the cart and finding nothing of note. He spoke,
"Why do you have three extra horses to pull one cart?"With an eye roll Marcon sighed.
"To sell ...obviously." He wanted to ask for the guards chain of command and post orders but looking the kid over it was clear there was little in the way of military training or discipline in this place. The old man smiled thinking how perfect it was! Surely there would be an attack or something going on in a town this off guard. He couldnt wait!
"Name?" The little shit came back with a board and quill. Staring up at the battle tested warrior with the softest doe brown eyes.
"Marcon Brand." He stated clearly, sadden to see no response.
"Occupation?" He retorted to the traveler seemingly uninterested in the report part of the job.
"Butchering the lot of you slack jawed half wits for being so inattentive to your duties!" Is what he wanted to say. Feeling the old instructor part of him wanting to see the pup sweating blood by the days end from all the running and hazing he wanted to make him do.
"Carpenter..." He grumbled through grit teeth. The leather leads being kept taunt in his clenched fists.
"Pfft. Welcome to Dawn haven. Cause any trouble and it'll be the stocks for you." He waved him through. With a sharp flick of the leads the horses stirred from searching the ground for grass under the mud and snow. The cart lurched forward and entered the town.
Marcon looked about seeing the few built ramshackle buildings. The cross streets were mud and no lighting. Easy pickings for even a skeletal crew of brigands. But what made his heart truly sink was the tavern. The mans eyes went wide at seeing the door was makeshift back into the frame with not support. Hell the front porch area didnt have a cross brace for the support structure! There were no stone footings for the posts! Not even the posts for the horses were done right! He covered his face in his callused hands, swearing a few choice curses to the sod that had tossed this heap of tinder together and walked away.
Marcon had his hopes it would be bad, but this was redefining the word bad to a new level he never dreamed of! It was so exciting!! Hitching the team to the post which he could make wiggle with just one arm he sighed and entered the tavern. By holding the door by the sides and leaning it into an inside wall he stepped through before replacing the ..pine, why in the gods name would they use this for a door? He shook the thought and more curses from his head. He continued to replace the 'door' to the hole blocking most of the cold from outside.
His eyes looked about. The main floor was so open with little supports for the above structure. The wood was more pine and not even the heart of pine! Pine was good for boats and bows but far too flexible for use in real construction worth a damn. The hearth was stone and mud but the stones were smaller then what should have been used, any fool knew that surely! The warmth from the bottom probably was heating a family of critters. There was no metal control lever for the heat so most of it was going strait up! He shook his head no. They were surrounded by woods and not saplings but hearty timber and this was what they made? The carpenter wanted to take an axe to the whole thing and just start over, but just then his stomach grumbled. It seemed he had gotten soft in that area. Travel rations didn't cut it anymore compared to a hearth and warm milk laden soup.
Taking a seat he waited until one of the locals came close. His cloak open and hood resting about his shoulders. When a server did come by,
"I need some food nothing fancy but warm, and some mid range ale. Where can I post for work? I am a ...tradesman and this town seems to be in short supply. I didnt see a market square or anything really of shops into town so could you tell me where they might be?" He smiled at the server trying to be pleasant while he talked.
"After the meal I'd be happy to fix your front door no charge. More of a way to show you my skill. I'm a carpenter you'll see."____________________________________________________________________
Becky Hill Tavern eye of the beholder 7am. -ish
Becky stirred rolling to her side and nearly off the makeshift bed. Hearing the foot steps of someone who thought they were a centaur, she moaned while stretching out from the warm blanket. First getting to a upright position sitting still and rubbing her eyes she felt grateful for no splinters. Although she would rather be a courtesan for the night then endure another moment on the rack of a bed. In the dark she rummaged for her boots and clothes grumbling as she played the game of hid and seek with the items. Finally finding the blouse she stood and put the finishing touches of her outfit tying the leather laces together like she had done since she was a kid. Feeling up the walls to find the stairs and into the light above.
"Right..." Looking about seeing the landscape and the busy morning shift she lurched towards the kitchen like a freshly risen corpse. Grabbing a basket she staged by the door which no one seemed to have noticed the robust cook moved to the pantry and gathered things for the morning rush, lard, eggs, meats...
"Shit. the bread!" she searched for flour, sugar, and the rest. Tongue in cheek as she noted they had no sugar, not a speck in the place! Shaking her head she rushed over to the counter and laid it all out. Her hands moving on auto pilot as she moved through the day first the bread stopping when it was mixed to make a side order and to help out the current cooks. She was glad it was cold outside so the kitchen could stay cool.
Catching Sya in between orders.
"I need to get to a store or what ever we have or a courier and a message out today. I cant work without sugar, at least ten.. five pounds a day. How often do trade caravans come through? Whatever I need to write a letter later after the morning rush and before lunch. This frontier cooking isnt going to keep them coming back." She was already sweating a little on her brow as she moved between pans and checked the bread in the oven below. The leather apron guarding her top heavy front from the heat and grease. She smiled sticking out her tongue out to the side watching the bacon sizzle.
"Yes! Order up!" She moved to plate the food. Using the bacon greases for the next dish. The raven haired woman's hands ignoring the hot handles and only grabbing a wet cloth for oven items. In the first hour she had orders flying out the kitchen all piping hot and three loaves of bread cooling on the counter.
"Sya... I need double the items for sweets and I can make us cakes they will be a big hit with the dinner crowd. They are like pies but better and cheaper. You can coat them in sugar and so moist!" Becky raised her own fingers to her lips and kissed them in some strange symbolic manner.
"So delicious! You'll see!" mentions:
@PrinceAlexus@The Muse