Hmmm...the thing is my post won't be done until later tonight. Like around 7 pm Atlanta, Georgia time lol. You know what? Go ahead and post. I'll adjust accordingly. As long as the clan isn't in total shambles then it shouldn't affect me too much.
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8 yrs ago
No more bailing out. Let's do this!
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9 yrs ago
I miss writing. Alot. Journaling is all well and good, but there's something about creative writing. I get excited about it! So, here's to a year of doing what excites me. It's time for a change.
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Nice. Alright, I'm going to try to get my next post up tomorrow, which will have Maire officially start her little expedition.
@Shorticus I'm thinking northeast, actually. No clans control that territory according to the map so there's little chance of running into folks that don't like Clan Aonghus. As far as the group's composition, I'm thinking Maire, her thrall, and maybe two or three kerns. It's really more of a scouting expedition to see where this grass might be found. As an alchemist who knows quite a bit about herbs, Maire knows where this grass WOULD grow back in Urland. Obviously, just because an area in the Hidden Valley has similar conditions doesn't mean sweetgrass will necessarily grow there. Also, Maire isn't the adventurous type so she's going to stick as close to her clan's territory as possible. No running off into the wilds like some people *Eyes Eliz*
@Shorticus So, a question, though I think I know the answer. If Maire wanted to put together an expedition of her own to find a particular kind of grass for the clan's cows, it would have to wait for the next turn, correct? Also, since this grass basically allows cows to put on more flesh at a faster rate, how would that be reflected? An increase in the cattle count? And do Council members need any sort of approval to do things like this? I'm guessing not, but I wanted to make sure :)
Oh no no, I meant I just wasn't sure if I'd be able to churn out a post between now and when the next turn comes. Thanks for the ideas, though, lol.
I'm thinking of some things for Maire to do. I might hold off until the next turn to post, but we shall see.
Maire Virtanen puts 1 point of magic into Diplomacy.
As Maire listened to the other Council members speak, her gaze meandered around the newly constructed clan hall and a frown spread across her face. She hated this place. Clan Aonghus' old hall, with its familiar sights and smells, had possessed something this well-built collection of wooden boards and straw never would. Character. Where was the threadbare tapestry that depicted Aire, Queen of the Gods, talking to the clan's founders after her marriage to Urak? Why weren't the last of the scentwood logs from Urland being burned in the great hearth to properly bless this awful building? What would become of the beautifully carved granite statue of Bodi, which had been left behind in the old hall due to its size and weight?
Sighing and brushing a wayward strand of black hair away from her face, Maire folded her hands atop her belly. These thoughts weren't productive, and she needed to at least look like she was paying attention to whatever these fools were babbling about. A domestic dispute? Truly? It had only been a few short seasons since the clan's exile, and the Council was already being asked to settle disagreements between husbands and wives? Unacceptable.
Still, a little diplomacy never hurt anyone.
Once Titania finished offering her suggestions to the group, Maire leaned back in her polished thornwood chair and smiled at Fintan and Aifric. While she was usually more than happy to follow Chief Serhiem's lead, the one-armed warrior woman sitting beside her had given Maire a better idea. Clearing her throat, she said, "Was it not Aran the Wise, noblest of all urlandi sages, that said, 'Attention paid to an elder is attention that will be paid back tenfold. For wisdom flows like a river from their mouths?' Perhaps I'm misremembering the sage's words..." She wasn't, and Maire knew it. Shrugging and turning her pale blue eyes towards Fintan Lariksen, she said, "Now, brave warrior, I believe I have treated you for rockjoint at least five times since we settled in this valley? Is that correct?"
The elderly gallocmen nodded slowly and Maire's grin widened. "This man, this battle-hardened champion, has served Clan Aonghus well for many years. He shouldn't be asked to patrol the borders of our territory alongside his brothers-in-arms anymore. Nor should he be expected to go on some...hastily thrown together expedition to the east. Instead, as penance for his misdeeds and to keep him occupied, let Fintan train our younger warriors in the art of war."
The raven-haired alchemist shot a caustic glare at Eliz and said, "He is no bastard and, while he has certainly made mistakes, one should not kill a cow because it produces a few buckets of sour milk. One should only kill the cow if there is no other option available. Or if you need the meat." Fintan's eyes widened at the thought of not being allowed to carouse with his fellow warriors and he opened his mouth, but Maire held up one pale hand to silence him as she turned her attention to his wife.
"Now, as Aran the Wise also said, 'To bind that which was born free is a crime against gods and men.' Still, if having Aifric work alongside the thralls puts an end to this discord then I am for it. However, I believe the Council should claim half the goods she produces during this time. We can distribute them to those who suffered most during the Moon Season," Maire said and she glanced over at Serhiem to gauge his reaction. "I only suggest this course, chief, because we need to convince other families not to bring issues like this before the Council. A fine will ensure similar squabbles are dealt with privately. We should use this season to focus on sending emissaries to neighboring clans and protecting our viable trade routes. Problems like this are beneath us. Of course, you must decide what is best for Clan Aonghus, mighty chief, and may the gods grant you clarity in this matter."
Maire idly pulled at a loose thread dangling from her blue-dyed satin robes and tried not to smirk at the flustered couple. No matter what Serhiem decided to do, she hoped they'd learned a valuable lesson this day. The Council had no time to waste on marital woes.
Decisions
As Maire listened to the other Council members speak, her gaze meandered around the newly constructed clan hall and a frown spread across her face. She hated this place. Clan Aonghus' old hall, with its familiar sights and smells, had possessed something this well-built collection of wooden boards and straw never would. Character. Where was the threadbare tapestry that depicted Aire, Queen of the Gods, talking to the clan's founders after her marriage to Urak? Why weren't the last of the scentwood logs from Urland being burned in the great hearth to properly bless this awful building? What would become of the beautifully carved granite statue of Bodi, which had been left behind in the old hall due to its size and weight?
Sighing and brushing a wayward strand of black hair away from her face, Maire folded her hands atop her belly. These thoughts weren't productive, and she needed to at least look like she was paying attention to whatever these fools were babbling about. A domestic dispute? Truly? It had only been a few short seasons since the clan's exile, and the Council was already being asked to settle disagreements between husbands and wives? Unacceptable.
Still, a little diplomacy never hurt anyone.
Once Titania finished offering her suggestions to the group, Maire leaned back in her polished thornwood chair and smiled at Fintan and Aifric. While she was usually more than happy to follow Chief Serhiem's lead, the one-armed warrior woman sitting beside her had given Maire a better idea. Clearing her throat, she said, "Was it not Aran the Wise, noblest of all urlandi sages, that said, 'Attention paid to an elder is attention that will be paid back tenfold. For wisdom flows like a river from their mouths?' Perhaps I'm misremembering the sage's words..." She wasn't, and Maire knew it. Shrugging and turning her pale blue eyes towards Fintan Lariksen, she said, "Now, brave warrior, I believe I have treated you for rockjoint at least five times since we settled in this valley? Is that correct?"
The elderly gallocmen nodded slowly and Maire's grin widened. "This man, this battle-hardened champion, has served Clan Aonghus well for many years. He shouldn't be asked to patrol the borders of our territory alongside his brothers-in-arms anymore. Nor should he be expected to go on some...hastily thrown together expedition to the east. Instead, as penance for his misdeeds and to keep him occupied, let Fintan train our younger warriors in the art of war."
The raven-haired alchemist shot a caustic glare at Eliz and said, "He is no bastard and, while he has certainly made mistakes, one should not kill a cow because it produces a few buckets of sour milk. One should only kill the cow if there is no other option available. Or if you need the meat." Fintan's eyes widened at the thought of not being allowed to carouse with his fellow warriors and he opened his mouth, but Maire held up one pale hand to silence him as she turned her attention to his wife.
"Now, as Aran the Wise also said, 'To bind that which was born free is a crime against gods and men.' Still, if having Aifric work alongside the thralls puts an end to this discord then I am for it. However, I believe the Council should claim half the goods she produces during this time. We can distribute them to those who suffered most during the Moon Season," Maire said and she glanced over at Serhiem to gauge his reaction. "I only suggest this course, chief, because we need to convince other families not to bring issues like this before the Council. A fine will ensure similar squabbles are dealt with privately. We should use this season to focus on sending emissaries to neighboring clans and protecting our viable trade routes. Problems like this are beneath us. Of course, you must decide what is best for Clan Aonghus, mighty chief, and may the gods grant you clarity in this matter."
Maire idly pulled at a loose thread dangling from her blue-dyed satin robes and tried not to smirk at the flustered couple. No matter what Serhiem decided to do, she hoped they'd learned a valuable lesson this day. The Council had no time to waste on marital woes.
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Amongst the Lonesome- A return to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]
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9 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
I shall post soon...ish.
Once a year works for me.
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