|Hammer or Rug|
|Summary:||A bit of humor, some idle murder plotting and speculating about the ramifications of the Seven walking among us.|
|Related Logs:||Current events|
|The Green ~ Terrick's Roost|
|The Green is a large field of deep green grass, nearly flat, that runs along the base of the towers. The road into town runs along the far edge, hemming it in neatly to a confined area where beyond a line of trees serves as a subtle windbreak. This area is most often used for drilling or practice for the guards but also serves as home for festivals, tournements, and another other gathering that might require the space for a large number of the local residents. A well-trodden path winds around the side of the wall and moves towards the coastline. Another heads southwest, toward Kingsgrove.|
|Mon Jan 14, 290|
Late in the afternoon finds Nedra riding along the well-trodden path that winds around the side of the wall toward the coastline. Accompanied by one of her armsmen and her maid Shalla, Lady Nedra is taking a leisurely ride in the afternoon air instead of galloping at break-neck speed like normal when she's racing.
Lothar is well shooting targets like the good lil archer he is making sure that his back ground is clear before he launches an arrow or two or 10 at some haybales with paint on them.
Nedra slows to a walk as she reaches the open area around the archery shooting range, ad hoc though it may be, and sits silently for a moment observing Lothar's target practice. She waits until it appears (to her) that he's done firing and wonders aloud: "Good day to you, Lord Lothar, how's the practice going?"
Lothar glances back towards the sound of a voice in his focused shooting stuff… And smiles offering a wave, "It's going pretty well been practicing my sword work some as well but just love archery. How are you today?
"Well enough, my lord, thank you for asking," Nedra replies in turn, glancing around slowly after Lothar speaks, blue-grey eyes scanning the grassy open field, the distant figures moving along the wall or the ones heading to or from the coast line, a picnic being held near the tree line and some practice being held near the walls. "It's good to be here after being at Highfield for the funeral," she admits. a small shake of her head given with her words.
A bit later..
The hay bales that Lothar had been using as target practice are stacked neatly in a cleared area a bit away from the walls of the keep, brightly painted and riddled with spent arrows. Now that Lothar has completed his practice and returned to other duties, Nedra has usurped the stack of bales and has climbed the lower bales until reaching the top and seating herself on the top most square. The light breeze of the day tugs at her hair, plucks at her clothing, and her sketch board is balanced in her lap, a charcoal stick held in her left hand as she sketches the group of men sparring near the wall under the watchful eye of some sort of instructor.
The buttes, or makeshift buttes can be a good place to find solitude, specially when one is perched along the top of a said stack. Still-it might not be the most logical places to sit. Specially when men are out to train. Such as the three who have shown themselves soon after the youngest of the brothers Terrick has disappeared. Clad in leathers and armed with bows, the two familiar faces of Ser Ozric's squires do give a pause as they stop-the youngest pointing up to Nedra- or rather where she is perched. Soon enough, the taller and one eyed figures comes within range and pauses. A few hushed words are given, before the lord is making his way over to where the Mallister woman has sat herself down. A slight grin showing as he looks up.
"I do not think that is the choicest of places, Lady." His voice a bit louder so his squires can hear. Leaning gently on his bow- Ozric tilts his head carefully. "Is there reason you're there?"
Nedra shades her eyes as she turns away from the sight she's sketching, finding herself in the unique position of looking DOWN at Ozric instead of up at him. Interesting shift in view and she finds herself studying his face with a touch of surprise upon hers as she feels a smile tugging at her lips. "It seemed a safe place, as practice appeared to be complete for the moment, Lord Ozric." She sets the sketch board down, one hand holding flat the piece of paper with it's sketch in progress, "Plus it afforded a rather handy view of the Green. I've a mind to thank your brother for arranging this so neatly."
Isn't it. Perhaps that is what has the lord smiling. And there's a shift in his stance before he looks back towards the fields and back to her with a laugh ripe, right there. "Practice is ever going, lady. I can assure you, there are safer stacks of hay inside the Tower's walls. as opposed to outside." Ozric adds with a grin. "Well, you should thank him, for trying to shoot his arrows else than at our arming dummies. This is a better way of practice-and he looses less arrows this way."
"Hmm, so perhaps I ought to come down from the stack of hay that is ready to be stuck full of more arrows?" Nedra wonders, closing the cover on the sketch board, tucking the charcoal stick behind her left ear before she rises to her feet and begins to dust the hay off of her skirt. "I'm all in favor, my lord, of arrows being shot at safe targets, bales of hay, targets tacked to trees, arming dummies, anything that doesn't have wayward arrows flying over the wall," she adds as she begins to climb her way down the stack of bales.
"You are fine..For now my lady." Ozric counters-before he is shifting in his stance once more. Turning his head-he whistles back to the young men and motions for them to aim further down the buttes and go after less inhabited Haystacks. Though when she starts to come down, he is moving to come and help her. "Well, that is why we have the stacks.." As if it needed to be explained in teasing jest further. "If you like, I can get you a chair for the Green."
Nedra steps down all the way to the very last bale of hay and stops there, lingering on that last bale to put herself at or slightly above eye level - still enjoying the odd vantage point of being at or even above eye level for a change. "For now?" she wonders, amusement lightly coloring her tone of voice. "Is there a chance that I might have to duck and dodge around arrows, then, if I didn't come down?" she wonders, a grin tugging at her lips again before she laughs, "A chair? Thank you, but no. I simply enjoyed the vantage point of being a trifle higher off of the ground than normal. Being built close to the ground has it's advantages, my lord, but seeing the lay of the land isn't one of them. Though, I dare say, I never - ever - have to duck under things to avoid hitting my head," this said as she rests one hand lightly in his as she steps down from that last bale to the ground, restoring the natural order of things, which is her looking up into his face as they speak.
Ozric shrugs. "Perhaps, perhaps my aim would be good-or poor." he adds with his own wry grin. "Perhaps you would not dodge or duck, and I'd pin you to the wall. Of course, I would have a moment of horror and shame, before resolving to hide your body somewhere." he adds before he offers his hand up to the lady. "And, yet I do. A giant amongst men." he offers with a faint chuckle. And now, he is decidedly looking down on Nedra-though not down her dress. Yet. "I find if I am fighting a smaller opponent, that I aim for their legs. It keeps them from using my reach against me."
Nedra is laughing as her hand rests in his, "Then, as the potential body that has to be hidden, I insist on a proper burning and that my remains be scattered on the out going tide," she says with a grin. "The notion of being tucked into a grave with worms and bugs really bothers me, for some idiotic reason," she confesses. Once safely upon the ground she is mindful to release his hand lest she hold it for longer than is proper, seeing the amused look on her maid's face as she dusts more of the flecks of hay off of her skirt. "You are, you'll have noticed, a bit tall," she says in as somber a voice as she can muster while fighting back the grin that tries to sneak out. "I, on the other hand, am not all that terribly tall. So, I'll have to remember to protect my legs and come up with ways to use your reach against you, as that seems to be the tactic to use."
Ozric shakes his heads as his chuckles remain there in the wind. "I do not know if I can agree to do such a thing. I mean, if I were to murder you accidentally from arrow. I would at least like to creatively hide your body before showing remorse." And there he rubs his chin once his hand comes back. Lest that he gives anyone, any ideas. "Perhaps I will hide you in a swineherd's pen." he allows before looking back to her. "No, you are not tall-but somehow I doubt I shall see you at the end of my hammer." he adds. "If so, I can only expect it would not be a pleasurable experience. And the world likely gone to hell."
"Now, one can argue that 'accidental murder' with arrow would qualify for much remorse," Nedra replies, laughing. "Though if you must get creative, why not a barrel of spirits and ship it off to some distant city. Mark it with the sort of spirits that NO ONE really likes to drink, so the cask won't be opened any time soon. That's clever, and clever is important - so all the stories say - when hiding a body. No shallow grave, no. And I simply have to draw the line at the swineherd's pen. Smelly thing, thank you - but no," she says with a firm shake of her head before she tilts her head in a nod, "I would rather not see myself at the end of your hammer, nor the world gone to hell in a handbasket either, so lets see about holding it off for a while longer. The world ending thing, I mean."
"And being at the end of my?" He lets that hang, before he is chuckling and shaking his head. "No. I suspect the world won't end for some time still. The seven do not walk amongst us visibly. And the summer is still long and prosperous." he adds before looking back to the young woman. "And I think the swineherd is a perfect place for you. No one would think to look for you there." Ozric concludes.
Nedra turns a fine shade of pink even as she laughs, "Hammer," she helpfully supplies, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I don't imagine that the world will end any time soon," she adds, pushing forward the topic of conversation. "Though, if the Seven do start to walk among us visibly I would imagine that we would all go blind. To look into the face of the seven is to go blind. So, naturally, the end result of the seven walking amongst us is that the whole population is struck blind instantly, leaving us all to bumble and wander around, bumping into everything and each other." She crosses her arms over her chest, grinning, "So, the swineherd hut is the ideal place to hide my body. We keep circling back around to that. I suppose, then, if the tables were turned I'd have to see if I could fit yours in there instead."
Ozric only grins and dares not speak further there. Instead he offers a light cough, as a means to clear his throat before nodding. "Hammer." and there his grin shows and drops back down before looking to the young woman. "Or die. I have heard death can come if you see the face of the Stranger." As to her own assessment of where to hide his body, the Lord laughs again, loudly. "If you could carry me that far, I would be impressed."
"Indeed," Nedra agrees, "hammer," said with a firm nod. "Seeing as how you aren't a fan of bashing at people with swords and lances and such," she recalls with a wry grin. "So, to recap, if the Seven begin to walk amongst us we go blind then we die. I do hope we don't have to go blind, then stumble about and then die. It seems to be a needlessly complicated and time consuming process," said in a dry tone of voice even as his laughter had drawn hers again. "Who said anything about carry? Nonsense. I'll have to wrap you in a rug and drag you off, somehow. It wouldn't be easy, mind, but anything worth doing is worth the challenge required," sage nod accompanies her last words.
"I think you would find me quite heavy, Neddie. And when I am asleep I am dead weight-which would mean I am likely deader weight when I am dead." A grin there before he is looking back to her. His own arm offered, as he nods in the direction of the Green, and likely safety-where his bow armed squires are concerned. "I see. I will admit-that you have me slightly amused." And his wry grin shows once more. "I am sure you have this plan for blind dragging all thought out."
Nedra accepts Ozric's offered arm, handing her sketch board over to Shalla and her maid and Ser Allain move forward to pace along behind Nedra and Ozric as the start to walk in the direction of the green, abandoning the brightly painted bales of hay for more target practice. "So, when you're dead, you will indeed be dead weight, is what you're saying?" she wonders with another sidelong glance, grinning up at Ozric.
"Well now, that makes it a multi-step challenge, doesn't it? First, the Seven have to be walking amongst us to have cast us all blind. Then something will have had to happen to you - by accident, of course - that I am directly responsible for, thus fitting the bill for having accidentally killed you. THEN, blind, accidentally a murderer, I must hide your body and - in the process - avoid dying because I've seen the faces of the gods and, of course, am blind as a result. Somewhere along the way I'll need to wrap you in a rug and drag you off, but then everyone else will be blind to .. this does pose a problem," she decides. "What if I can't find a rug big enough to wrap you in?" she wonders, trying her level best for a somber tone of voice at the end and failing as her voice wavers a bit with amusement.
Ozric chuckles as he continues to lead her on to the green. And for once a witty report is not quick on the Lord's lips. Instead he offers a grin and a nod. "Well, my lady.." Ozric finally answers. "If you cannot find a rug big enough for me." he turns his head as his voice drops to keep the profanity between them. "Then you are shit out of luck." And with that he goes to lead her to a better vantage point for her sketchings.
Nedra's burst of laughter comes a bare moment after his words, quietly spoken though they are, her head tilted back as she laughs, part startled - all amused - as he leads her to a better vantage point to sketch from. One that won't be riddled with practice arrows, one presumes.