Along The Way [RhyDin]

Tales of S'jira and others from the barbaric lands of Llothgar and beyond.

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S'jira
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Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

Along The Way [RhyDin]

Post by S'jira » Thu Jan 23, 2020 8:11 pm

(These are various little stories about S'jira while in RhyDin. Watching others, interactions with others, etc. etc. This is an open topic. Feel free to write!)
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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S'jira
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Posts: 335
Joined: Sun Apr 28, 2019 2:26 am
Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

Sweet, Wonderful Routine

Post by S'jira » Thu Jan 23, 2020 8:21 pm

The small one had neglected new purchases of late. Heavy-salt that she used to store meats and fish in clay jugs was very low. She also needed flour, fruits, cloth, thread, beads, and so much more!

Too much of the fall and winter had been spent completely out of site of everyone within the realm. Not a mention to even those at the docks about how ill she had been, or the elder woodcutter that had brought her wood and found her that ill. Nor of how he and his elderly wife had seen her back to health.

But the small woman was making the effort to return to the Red Dragon's inn and seeing to the cleaning of some of its rooms, as well as washing clothing and linen, and definitely to the huge, neglected pile of mending. A soul felt terrible that she had been remiss in the duties and chores she had helped with for a long time since she had first made her way into RhyDin.

She had also kept the rooms that she and Panther were known to often occupy, as well as The Loft -- a more private dwelling for the pair of them; above the livery. The rooms at the Red Dragon's in were used when getting home to the old thatch-roof cottage in the northern woods was too far a trek late at night and for other reasons.

With all of that in her thoughts and the items from the market delivered home, to the old cottage, she had finally made her way back on foot into RhyDin Proper. All of the sights and sounds could be overwhelming for the small woman. But in its ways, she missed them. In ways, she needed them.
A return to the inn and mending to be done that evening, to be certain.
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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S'jira
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Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

Racing The Dragon

Post by S'jira » Fri Jan 24, 2020 11:52 pm

It has been snowing all morning.

Work at the docks had ground to a standstill and the only ones she had found there were folks rushing to get to their destination; into somewhere warm. Even the Red Dragon’s Inn was so quiet that she wondered if there was a grand event somewhere that everyone was attending, or if illness had kept them at home.

Thoughts were wondered, flitting from one possible notion to another, while she sat atop Trygg. The sleek, beautiful black horse was so tall in comparison to the little Llothgarian woman that she must have looked like a child.

Heels of her feet, within a pair of brown softleather boots, nudged inward against Trygg’s ribs as she drew the reins to the right to guide him from the more populated areas and into the large meadows. They had been there many times to enjoy walks and rides through the tall, golden grasses or to rest beneath the boughs of the ancient white oak that stood like grand, amaranthine noble beside the pure waters of the lake there.

That day, the golden grasses could not be seen with inches of heavy snow blanketing the area. And those large branches of the white oak with a few tiny houses of the four-winged, fairy-like creatures she had discovered years ago, was bare of its leaves and held snow on every limb.

Off in the distance behind them was the great city of RhyDin, and before them on the craggy horizon were the foothills and mountains where caves and some lived above the treeline. Snow was still falling in large white tufts to land on Trygg’s mane and the woman’s cloak and hood.

S’jira rode the black horse further into the expanse that, even in winter, held a beauty that she could not help smiling to witness. Then to hear the sounds on the air above them. She tipped her head back, bettering a look skyward, and caused the hood of the old cloak to fall away from her head and hair.

Above them was a large, feral dragon. Its scales varied head to tail from Dark crimson to a reddish gold. S’jira felt her breath hitch with a soft gasp, uncertain if it meant harm or it was searching for something…or someone. In a large, elliptical pattern, it came and went from one end of the large territory of the meadows. Here and there, it came in low and pulled back upwards to the sky.

After a few passes by the great and grand dragon, ‘jira leaned in to quietly speak with Trygg. “It is thought…perhaps the winged-one wishes to run with us? What is felt of that, Trygg?” The small woman smiled all the more and urged Trygg into motion.

He was at a walk, at first, but gaining speed into a trot then a gallop. They made their own circling over the meadow where the tall grasses were often known to grow when it was not winter’s season. And when the huge, winged beast came in from behind them, s’jira sought a look over her shoulder and suddenly met her leather-clad heels with Trygg’s ribs.

They bolted forward into as fast a run as the horse could. S’jira gave him full rein since she knew he loved to run without being held back. His black mane whipped back against her but she did not mind it atall. Laughter left her, free and warm as they raced the area. As if they could win against such a creature.

Strong leather wings hit the winds and crosswinds with the sound of sails flapping against the touch of a tempest at sea. ‘jira was cold with her cloak, skirts of her dress, and hair flowing back with the pace she rode at.

Soon enough, the dragon had enough of playing with the small ones that were s’jira and Trygg and veered off in the direction of the jagged horizon where the mountains stood. The pair slowed until Trygg was prancing in the snow, as if he were showing off for others of his kind.

The small one laughed and leaned in to hug against his neck. “That was a bit of fun, was it not?” She knew he was happy in that. Both needing warmth by then, she moved them in the direction of the great city. It was time for the livery where Trygg could get hay and feed, and she could visit the Red Dragon’s Inn. Her heart was light and her smile was something unveiled despite the bite and tug of the cold wind and snow.
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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S'jira
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Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

Some Things For Market

Post by S'jira » Sat Feb 01, 2020 11:30 am

Near the home, that old woodcutter's cottage of stone and a roof of thatch, S'jira made her way to the creek.

The ground was still frozen and, in some areas that were fully shaded from the sun, patches of snow were here and there along her path. Softleather boots kept her feet warm and dry. She wore a thick, warm double-layer dress and the old cloak. No gloves were on her hands when she picked up a short, thick and sturdy stick from the ground and walked over to one of the large trees.

The stick was used like a crude trowel to pull back a blanket of leaves to expose some winter's mushrooms that could just bee seen peeking out from a few of those fallen leaves. Another tree was visited and dug about until she found green "balls". The black walnuts were not exposed yet, but she could remove it to bring the husks of it to the market's apothecary for use in medicines. Chokeberries were found as well. None of them were needed for self, but for selling or trade at the marketplace.

Humming a Llothgarian song beneath her breath, she put the rest of the items in the clothsack she often carried with her. Then she retraced her way back along the path she often travelled from the creek to her home. It was time to get Trygg and go into the huge and bustling city of RhyDin.
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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S'jira
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Joined: Sun Apr 28, 2019 2:26 am
Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

Nesipas Seen

Post by S'jira » Sun Feb 02, 2020 11:09 am

Thanks was given to the gods beneath the setting of RhyDin's moons.

Dawn was just starting to break when the small woman headed down the stops of the porch belonging to the Red Dragon's Inn. She had been too tired and the hour too late to dare the venture home to the old stone and thatch home of hers that stood beyond the northern wall of the great city. Brown softleather sleeveless dress was worn over a long sleeved, heavy cotton dress. About her waist was a black belt of leather where a single cinched pouch for coin was tied tightly there. An unbleached clothsack was worn shouldered and kept in closed to her left side as she moved.

It was not long before she soon retrieved Trygg from the local livery stable.

The ride was cold, but far warmer than the air had been for days. Perhaps it had been longer. She guided the tall, black horse for the meadows. They did not run the meadows and it was still far too cold for swimming in the waters there. When close enough to giant, ancient white oak that stood noble and stoic beside the waters, s'jira drew Trygg to a stop still come hundred paces back from the tree. She did not want to alarm the tiny ones she had come to visit: the Nesipas.

She had found them when she had first made her way into the realm of RhyDin with Master Kiroth. The little creatures were incredibly fast and territorial, frightened and fierce to defend a few of the currently bare boughs of the ancient tree. Eyes of hers had seen them as being without cloth or else to cover their forms. Inches tall, at the most. And having four wings. 'jira called them Nesipas since in Llothgarian it meant four petals.

Trygg's reins were left wrapped around the saddle horn of leather and wood. He roamed off a little but did not go far.

S'jira's booted feet carried her towards the tree. Beneath the lowest of the branches, just without stretching reach to do so, she removed a few things from the clothsack bag she had beneath the weight of the old cloak. She placed on the bare branch a polished length of brown, thin wood that was better meant and used for the burning of incense by some. It was used as something else entirely for the tiny, four-winged creatures. Only about a foot long and a shallow grove the length of its middle, she placed bits of food, spice, and a handful of bits and pieces of twine, thread, and cloth for them to use in nesting in the miniature home they had in the highest of that tree's branches.

As soon as that was done, the small woman started backing up. Unafraid, but she respected the creatures' wish for that distance from their realm of boughs. One, then two dove down so quickly that it might have reminded others of an angry pair of wasps. But they never went more than a handful of inches beyond the limb where the gifts were left for the Nesipas.

A smile touched her gaze with another stride backwards on her part, before giving into a turn to head back towards Trygg. She took the long, thinly braided reins in hand, took a little measure of effort in hauling self atop his back and booted heels softly nudged against his ribs. It was one of a few things to do that day before the evening could be for rest and warmth at the Red Dragon's Inn.
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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S'jira
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Joined: Sun Apr 28, 2019 2:26 am
Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

Bows and Bruises

Post by S'jira » Tue Feb 04, 2020 10:50 pm

The little one had spent the day at the old woodcutter's cottage, her home for a while now, in the woods north of tall walls belonging to the great city of RhyDin.

A bale of hay she brought with others for the horses, she used the extra one to practice her archery. It might have surprised some that she even had a bow and arrows in her possession. The smaller, lighter version of the tall, beautiful Elven bows had been given to her by a friend. And it had taken her a very long time to learn to hit a target atall!

Practice and more practice was needed. She had not learned to play the flute pipes for a very long time and still, she feared, she might make ears bleed to play in public.

Two of the arrows had missed the bale of hay and one was off-center but had found a place deep in the right side of it. S'jira in her dull, but sturdy dress layers of brown and the added warmth of the old, large woven cloak, brought the bow up again. She pulled that next arrow back until the line was taut and near the gentle swell of her naturally tinted right cheek.

Suddenly, something caused some birds in the trees to burst from the branches they were perched on. Wild, sharp and screeching noises startled her and she loosed the arrow. "Aeii!!" 'jira let out a cry of pain. The line from the bow had snapped harshly against her cheek, nearest the hinge of her jaw, as well as smarting the side of her right hand.

Lips frowned with the pain endured. The bow was half tucked between her elbow and her side so she could sooth her cheek and hand. But, even as she did, darkly colored eyes were searching the woods that surrounded the clearing where her home, the two-stall barn, and more where she lived. It was mutely wondered what had suddenly frightened the birds.

No further noises followed the raucous, no hint atall. She blinked away unshed tears that had resulted from the welt on her hand. She was sure she would feel it for days. Unknown in that moment, the reddish line on her cheek would leave a bruise.

Not to give up, she sent one more arrow loose towards the bale of hay, but missed it with the distraction of her aching hand. She did not sigh, but a breath was released quietly. 'jira smiled a little at self and what had happened. The arrows were gathered up and put into the quiver and took them inside.

It was time to see to making something for dinner...and if there was a bit of salve in one of the many little jars she had.
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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S'jira
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Joined: Sun Apr 28, 2019 2:26 am
Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

Up Before the Roosters

Post by S'jira » Fri Feb 07, 2020 6:52 pm

Marty Graw time!

The street lamps were still lit and workers had not been there yet to clean the cobblestone streets of papers, bodies, or evidence that the horses and untrained dragons had been there.

S'jira's hair was still a little damp when she was hurrying down the stairs from the second of the inn's levels to the common room below. She had not gone home the night before but had spent it in the rooms at the Red Dragon's inn. She had enjoyed the bath too long with oils and salts that hydrated her against the harsh, dry winter air she had been in a lot lately.

A sleeveless dark brown dress was worn over a sleeved unbleached white dress. She had a belt tied about her waist with a coin pouch hanging from it. Boots were tugged on as soon as she arrived at the door and then hauled the old, large cloak about those shoulders of hers. With a little bit of effort, she hauled the main door of wood and metal open to leave the inn behind.

Hems of her dress fluttered about her shins and ankles and her long, dark brown hair flowed back on the cold, winter morning air as she was almost at a run. There was still a little bit of distance between the inn and where Delvoena's bakery was. She would have go faster if she was to get there to help as much as possible with all of the orders of King Cakes!
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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S'jira
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Joined: Sun Apr 28, 2019 2:26 am
Location: RhyDin or Llothgar

By The Moons' Light

Post by S'jira » Mon Feb 17, 2020 6:28 pm

The way home was as it usually was, quiet and uneventful, until Trygg and s'jira were turning the corner for that last little stretch of forest path known to lead to her home of stone and thatch.

Somewhere beneath the sound of Trygg's hooves, she heard the faint sound. Her hand peeked out from beneath the old, heavy cloak to draw the reins back and bring them both to a stop. Trygg's right hoof dug at the hard ground. "Shh... Trygg." Again the sound came but she wasn't quiet sure what it was. The length of reins were wrapped about the saddle horn of wood and leather, the same she held to as she slid down from the tall horse's back.

Again, she stopped. S'jira didn't even breath so that she could listen as best she could for the sound that seemed to very distant.

When she heard it, she turned. Stopping after a few feet to listen again. There it was, in a bit of snow that had collected about the bottom of one of the ancient trees of the northern forest. The little thing found was frozen solid with the snow, leaves, and some water that had pooled sometime when the temperatures were just warm enough to do so...before it froze again.

By the light of the moons, S'jira pulled a little knife, one of two that Kitty had given her so very long ago, from inside of her right boot. With great care, she work it against the ice and know around the little kitten that she knew might not make it through the night. As soon as she was free, 'jira ran for the house that she could just see in the distance.

She could hear Trygg following along behind her and didn't bother with hollering for him. As soon as she untethered the door and pushed it open, she headed inside. A rabbit pelt and a fox pelt were grabbed from atop one of the chests at the far end of the room. She wrapped the half-frozen tiny feline up in them with a gap to allow air to breathe.

A fire was started in the small but well-used hearth. She checked on the little beast again, then hurried off through the door to see to Trygg. Everything she did was hurried that night in order to get back to the kitten. Tack was removed from the back of the horse that had been as much a friend and companion to her than anyone else, having spent most of her years alone in the lands. "Please forgive, Trygg. There is understanding, yes?" Gentled smile and a pat to the side of his neck, she was soon bringing in more hay for him and feed. Water was good and protected by more of the hay about it to keep it from freezing; insulated. The colt was eager for attention as well, in his stall. He was seen to as best she could in those few moments. Then she saw the door soundly closed to protect them against cold and beasts alike before she bolted back to the old woodcutter's cottage across the yard in that little clearing in the middle of the woods.

As soon as the door of her home was closed, she drew a shaky breath into her lungs. She shivered with cold and kept her boots and cloak on. A quick check of both animal and fireplace was done before she grabbed a couple of clean cloths, a little wooden bowl and pour some milk into it.

After the bowl was set close to the fire to warm it, she small woman eased down upon the animal pelts that littered and layered the flagstone flooring of her home. Never was she more at ease or rest than when she was settled on such warmth and layers. The half-dead creature was gently taken up and put on her lap. One of the cloths was used to dab lightly at the kitten's face. It stirred but eyes were not opened yet. Mottle fur of black, brown, white and orange.

"You breathe yet, little one. Be at ease...care and warmth are here for you." Merely whispers in gentled tone. It would be a long night. She did not even dare to think it might live to see the break of down, but 'jira did hope for it.

***

The moons' light did not reveal the one that had watched the rescue. Merely a shadow amongst plentiful shadows.
ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ ڿڰۣ-ڰۣ

~S'jira~
Much can be said without saying a word.
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