SikstaSlathalin
11-26-2009, 01:46 AM
Together we walked out into the moonlit little yard. Usually there were torches burning but with the night being so bright the Staff saw no need to light them. This made it all the better for us, her daytime beauty was no match to the glow of her silver skin in the soft light. I was at a loss for words but she broke the silence.
“You never told me your name. I like Mr. Recorder but I think a full name would be better.” I stammered a little then said.
“My name’s Laup Athom Ms. Etna.” I bow a little, the proper thing to do when with a fine maiden. She shakes her head letting out a wispy chuckle.
“Please call me Samantha; Ms. Etna is far too formal.” I smiled a little looking into her watery brown eyes.
“Very well Samantha tis then.” We walk hand in hand around the garden, other couples joined us in the romantic atmosphere but as far as I was concerned they were statues. I only saw Samantha glowing in the moonlight and her delicate lips moving with the words of conversation.
The night was as grand as ye could imagine it; after we wandered the garden I took her atop the battlements to show her the small now deserted village and the lake far off among the fields. We were just walking down one of the main streets when the most horrid creature scurried across our path. A rat the size a small cat and twice as rancid, surprisingly fair Samantha didn’t faint as most ladies of her disposition would’ve. She simply grabbed a nearby broom and swatted the little pest away. I smiled watching it scamper off.
“Well done m'dear I half expected you to swoon at the sight of the beastie.” She giggled squeezing my arm.
“My father raised me to be as brave as my brothers they would harass me to no end if I showed any sign of female weakness as they so pleasantly put it. It would take far more than just one foul rat to make me swoon sir so belay your sword.” I admittedly had my hand resting on the hilt of my broadsword. With that little venture over we made our way back to the main building to catch the last bit of dinner and the late night songs of Cragstake’s bards. The revelers slowly drifted off to the Inns and houses to sleep in peace even if for only a few hours. Milady and I were among the last to go she compelling me to stay to the end of the songs which I guess were pretty. Not being a big fan of the bards’ fanciful tales and legends all I can say is I guess. Samantha on the other hand greatly loved these tales relating to me their origin and meaning from time to time.
June 13th 1300
*I woke this morning feeling somewhat spry I ventured out of my normal routine of a smoke on the cheery pipe and I went for a walk along the battlements. At this time of day, early dawn when the sun’s just peaking over the mountains anyone looking on from the highest tower or on the mountainsides to the east and west would see our ancient fort for more then just a big stone box with a city and towers in the middle. They’d see it the way the inhabitants see it as a work of art. The 30 foot high walls are made of a smooth stormy sky gray type of granite, known for its strength and resilience to the elements. The four stone roofed watchtowers at every corner with the slots in the walls for archers to fire arrows down. Actually inside the wall there’s the parade ground and sometimes Common for social events and feasts you could see some of the young soldiers marching in formation practicing their maneuvers.
Once the sun was fully up you can usually see some of the young men playing some game like archery or staff fighting even sometimes wrestling and boxing. I used to be quite the boxer and wrestler in my weight range but then I broke my hand and had to take up Scribe for the Army, not complaining but not lauding either. The streets of Cragstake are beginning to bustle with the Merchants beginning to set up shop and Laborers either returning from the Pub and Taverns to a cold bed and an angry wife or leaving a warm bed and a happy wife to go to work. The buildings of the Fort are mostly brick or had packed clay with slatted roofs While I felt rejuvenated the weather seemed to be ready to keel over from some unknown illness.
There was no visible sun it was lost behind the curtain of swollen gray clouds they hung so low on the horizon that they seemed ready to fall onto our heads. Something told me this was going to be a troublesome day like all that nonsense about bard’s tales I’m not one to believe in Foreseers of the Future or Soothsayers but sometimes the world around me seems to lean toward these archaic arts. Feeling my lungs full and my stomach empty I made my back to the main building to get some food to my gullet. I was about to engage in my duties of recording the daily events when the guards came running into the main building telling about a frantic woman screaming for a Doctor for her infant son.
“You never told me your name. I like Mr. Recorder but I think a full name would be better.” I stammered a little then said.
“My name’s Laup Athom Ms. Etna.” I bow a little, the proper thing to do when with a fine maiden. She shakes her head letting out a wispy chuckle.
“Please call me Samantha; Ms. Etna is far too formal.” I smiled a little looking into her watery brown eyes.
“Very well Samantha tis then.” We walk hand in hand around the garden, other couples joined us in the romantic atmosphere but as far as I was concerned they were statues. I only saw Samantha glowing in the moonlight and her delicate lips moving with the words of conversation.
The night was as grand as ye could imagine it; after we wandered the garden I took her atop the battlements to show her the small now deserted village and the lake far off among the fields. We were just walking down one of the main streets when the most horrid creature scurried across our path. A rat the size a small cat and twice as rancid, surprisingly fair Samantha didn’t faint as most ladies of her disposition would’ve. She simply grabbed a nearby broom and swatted the little pest away. I smiled watching it scamper off.
“Well done m'dear I half expected you to swoon at the sight of the beastie.” She giggled squeezing my arm.
“My father raised me to be as brave as my brothers they would harass me to no end if I showed any sign of female weakness as they so pleasantly put it. It would take far more than just one foul rat to make me swoon sir so belay your sword.” I admittedly had my hand resting on the hilt of my broadsword. With that little venture over we made our way back to the main building to catch the last bit of dinner and the late night songs of Cragstake’s bards. The revelers slowly drifted off to the Inns and houses to sleep in peace even if for only a few hours. Milady and I were among the last to go she compelling me to stay to the end of the songs which I guess were pretty. Not being a big fan of the bards’ fanciful tales and legends all I can say is I guess. Samantha on the other hand greatly loved these tales relating to me their origin and meaning from time to time.
June 13th 1300
*I woke this morning feeling somewhat spry I ventured out of my normal routine of a smoke on the cheery pipe and I went for a walk along the battlements. At this time of day, early dawn when the sun’s just peaking over the mountains anyone looking on from the highest tower or on the mountainsides to the east and west would see our ancient fort for more then just a big stone box with a city and towers in the middle. They’d see it the way the inhabitants see it as a work of art. The 30 foot high walls are made of a smooth stormy sky gray type of granite, known for its strength and resilience to the elements. The four stone roofed watchtowers at every corner with the slots in the walls for archers to fire arrows down. Actually inside the wall there’s the parade ground and sometimes Common for social events and feasts you could see some of the young soldiers marching in formation practicing their maneuvers.
Once the sun was fully up you can usually see some of the young men playing some game like archery or staff fighting even sometimes wrestling and boxing. I used to be quite the boxer and wrestler in my weight range but then I broke my hand and had to take up Scribe for the Army, not complaining but not lauding either. The streets of Cragstake are beginning to bustle with the Merchants beginning to set up shop and Laborers either returning from the Pub and Taverns to a cold bed and an angry wife or leaving a warm bed and a happy wife to go to work. The buildings of the Fort are mostly brick or had packed clay with slatted roofs While I felt rejuvenated the weather seemed to be ready to keel over from some unknown illness.
There was no visible sun it was lost behind the curtain of swollen gray clouds they hung so low on the horizon that they seemed ready to fall onto our heads. Something told me this was going to be a troublesome day like all that nonsense about bard’s tales I’m not one to believe in Foreseers of the Future or Soothsayers but sometimes the world around me seems to lean toward these archaic arts. Feeling my lungs full and my stomach empty I made my back to the main building to get some food to my gullet. I was about to engage in my duties of recording the daily events when the guards came running into the main building telling about a frantic woman screaming for a Doctor for her infant son.