Hrimfaxi: Formatting correction.

2014-09-28T07:48:19Z

Formatting correction.

Hrimfaxi: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2014/09/27 |Location=Dun Realtai |Synopsis=While catching up with the Wisewoman, Inga, Arturia and Bedivere receive an unexpected visit from Loros;..."

2014-09-28T07:47:23Z

Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2014/09/27 |Location=Dun Realtai |Synopsis=While catching up with the Wisewoman, Inga, Arturia and Bedivere receive an unexpected visit from Loros;..."

Show changes

@@ Line 12: / Line 12: @@
 |Poses=:'''{{#var:482|Sir Bedivere (482)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>  For the most part, things have been progressing normally around the keep after the céilidh. The celebration had been quickly and efficiently cleaned up by the villagers, and work had resumed afterward, though perhaps not quite at the same grueling pace. Now that the majority of the houses were made ready for the winter, and just enough food stores were in place to feed them until the next harvest, some of the urgency has been taken out of their work.<br /><br />  It's left time for less important tasks that had been neglected, such as the repair of curtain walls, roads, and other less urgent but still important infrastructure. Indeed, the stonemasons have turned much of their attention to the keep, too, patching up the places which were still sporting gaping holes, such as the second and third floors; storage rooms that had not had their walls repaired, though the guest rooms had been a priority.<br /><br />  It also leaves time for the keep's lord to indulge in things that are not poring over ledgers, helping with the construction efforts, or any other work-related tasks.<br /><br />  This afternoon, with the sun low in the sky, Bedivere can be found out in the middle of the keep's courtyard, where a barren patch of ground forms a nice open area, under the arching boughs of the monstrous oak. He has a broom in hand, and he's patiently sweeping the debris from it. Leaning against the oak itself are a few practise swords, wooden, sanded and polished to a gleam; most likely by his own hand.<br /><br />  The weather is cool, but not quite as miserably cold as it has been. Although largely clear, the sky does have a few ragged strips of high-altitude cloud cover, and as it filters through the oak's branches, the light is the rich gold of late afternoon.<br> <br>
-:'''{{#var:346|Saber (346)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The days since the céilidh found the King of Knights busying herself with a number of tasks not quite as vital. No longer wearing the same clothing as the labourers and carrying heavy planks of timber and other supplies to various construction sites, the petite blonde now donned the simple dress of one of the townsfolk; a plain woollen tunic over a skirt of the same, the only indication of possible status being that the tunic had been dyed a deep royal blue while the skirt bleached to a simple grey. It had been cause for some confusion, as the colour had royal connotations, though the villagers had merely assumed that it hadn't carried quite the same weight in the lands of their erstwhile lord and lady. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Now that the more urgent work had been completed, the Servant Saber was found making a number of rounds visiting the townsfolk and checking up on their welfare, making lists of necessities and even a few conveniences. Though as friendly as they had been, she had caught a number of whispers and glances her way. She kept her composure, masking her worry; it hadn't /seemed/ as if they had lost respect for the lord of the land, but the glances were oddly disturbing. And for some reason, Arturia felt as if she should be embarrassed, even as she hadn't understood what it was they were gossiping about. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She made an effort not to allow it to worry her; there remained a great deal of work to be done. Some potential improvements had been low priority in lieu of preparing the village for the coming brutal – if natural – winter, such as the introduction of electricity. It could possibly help to mitigate the cold through alternate heating sources as well as provide lighting, but the question of how to generate the necessary power had come up from those Union allies who had offered their aid. Already there had been talk of a greenhouse, an idea the jade-eyed knight fully supported. While perhaps it was too late into the season to begin construction, it was certainly a welcome project for the next year. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But for the moment, the diminutive knight made her way back up to the keep with the lists and various notes she had made. Busying herself with mulling over them in the makeshift office seemed like a suitable distraction from certain awkward issues. <br> <br>
+:'''{{#var:346|Saber (346)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The days since the céilidh found the King of Knights busying herself with a number of tasks not quite as vital. No longer wearing the same clothing as the labourers and carrying heavy planks of timber and other supplies to various construction sites, the petite blonde now donned the simple dress of one of the townsfolk; a plain woollen tunic over a skirt of the same, the only indication of possible status being that the tunic had been dyed a deep royal blue while the skirt bleached to a simple grey. It had been cause for some confusion, as the colour had royal connotations, though the villagers had merely assumed that it hadn't carried quite the same weight in the lands of their erstwhile lord and lady. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Now that the more urgent work had been completed, the Servant Saber was found making a number of rounds visiting the townsfolk and checking up on their welfare, making lists of necessities and even a few conveniences. Though as friendly as they had been, she had caught a number of whispers and glances her way. She kept her composure, masking her worry; it hadn't ''seemed'' as if they had lost respect for the lord of the land, but the glances were oddly disturbing. And for some reason, Arturia felt as if she should be embarrassed, even as she hadn't understood what it was they were gossiping about. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She made an effort not to allow it to worry her; there remained a great deal of work to be done. Some potential improvements had been low priority in lieu of preparing the village for the coming brutal – if natural – winter, such as the introduction of electricity. It could possibly help to mitigate the cold through alternate heating sources as well as provide lighting, but the question of how to generate the necessary power had come up from those Union allies who had offered their aid. Already there had been talk of a greenhouse, an idea the jade-eyed knight fully supported. While perhaps it was too late into the season to begin construction, it was certainly a welcome project for the next year. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But for the moment, the diminutive knight made her way back up to the keep with the lists and various notes she had made. Busying herself with mulling over them in the makeshift office seemed like a suitable distraction from certain awkward issues. <br> <br>
 :'''{{#var:482|Sir Bedivere (482)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>  Much as the king, the marshal had been busying himself with relatively minor tasks since the céilidh. Most of these were inventories of supplies, and taking note of what needed ordering, what needed to be imported, and what could be produced locally. Very little of the materials fell into the lattermost category, to his disappointment; either the resources didn't exist, or the only knowledgeable craftsmen were dead.<br /><br />  Notably, he had not been in the company of the King of Knights for much of this. Indeed, rare is it over the past few days that they had been seen in the presence of one another – and when they have been, the two have barely dared to make eye contact.<br /><br />  ''That'' probably set off the rumour mill.<br /><br />  Clouds of dust are set up as the knight carefully tends the courtyard. While there are castle servants who would jump at his request to do it, he takes a certain pride in doing such things himself. Many times he couldn't see to such tasks in Camelot, for fear that doing them himself would have eroded his credibility; the division of labour and social class had been much less forgiving, there, and his reputation had already been suspect.<br /><br />  Now, free to do such things to his heart's content, he seems pleased to listen to the harsh scrape of the bristles and the calming, almost dance-like pattern of stepping around the broom and guiding the dust and debris off to one side... at least, until a familiar face crests the hill.<br /><br />  "Ah–my lady." Bedivere blinks somewhat owlishly at the sight of Arturia, finally faltering in his sweeping. "I was not expecting you."<br /><br />  That much is obvious. His face flushes a little, and he abruptly drops his gaze, looking away. "All is well in the village, then...?"<br> <br>

689/A Raven in the Snow - Revision history

Hrimfaxi: Formatting correction.

Hrimfaxi: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2014/09/27 |Location=Dun Realtai |Synopsis=While catching up with the Wisewoman, Inga, Arturia and Bedivere receive an unexpected visit from Loros;..."