Bjorn, Acacius draws for breath then speaks. I think that the clan has the same needs as us. Food, heat, water and so on. But perhaps you can help them in some other way. I will speak with Tessa later to learn of their needs and then I will come speak with you about them. Acacius turs to all of his soldaes and clears his throat. As we have agreed on the name then if there is nothing more then I declare that the first council meeting is at an end. Next time we meet we will discuss the arrangement of the fair and what ever we need to speak of.
"About bloody time." snaps Aggie as he gets up and starts heading for the stairs, leaving his sigil behind.
Rhodri gets up as well. "I thank you again for taking my suggestion for the name. I'll be getting right to work making the heating spell as well as putting a roof over Aggie's head." he bows to all and starts heading down the stairs as his lab is in the basement.
OK, I'll update the Covenant and Charter info now that we have a name. We'll use the the Spring OOC thread to post tasks and lab activities. PM me if you need to.
Tessa stays in the meeting room after most of the magi have gone.
"If ye're ready I do have a list of things we could use." she says to Acacius and Bjorn.
"We need flour, nails, shears, barrels, pots, shoe leather, we could really use a loom but na' until we've shorn the sheep, we can always use more tools, coal, bricks (we're trying to set up a smithy), some hemp rope, some iron. and we're still buyin' a lot of food from nearby." she pauses to breathe a moment.
"There's likely more but that should do fer now. I was already coming up with the list...Dermot asked me the same thing, but he's too proud to ask ye."
Acacius: Tessa, could you tell me what natural resources that are available around here. Stone for construction? Clay for brics? Lumber? Iron ore? Wheat? It’s a different thing to transform what is already here and another to conjure things from the air.
A woman slowly limps through the wilderness. She has been lucky to get this far but now she is on her own and she hopes these strange people that moved in are sympathetic or she could be in trouble. She has a small cart that a single person can move and it is mostly empty at that. The bottom hem of her skirt shows stains of travel but her clothing is of good quality. She is wary as she walks, pulling the cart. The clan's scouts or guards will spot her approaching towards them.
"Aye, there's a bit around here. Aine said there's some decent stone to quarry not so far from here. Probably the same place that the standing stones were taken from...assuming they weren't conjured from thin air. We can pay for the privelege o' cuttin' down the king's trees. That's actually cheaper than trying to get the lumber elsewhere. Not sure about clay, I'll tell Aine to take a look for it. There's mines in these areas, but I think it's for tin. For crops, the land is pretty good but nothin's been put to the plow yet. Just a few places where we're makin' small garden plots."
Out on the outskirts of the Covenant a pair of young scottsman see the disheveled woman pulling the cart.
"Oy!" one of them calls out.
I need two players other than Ladyphoenix to run Oisian and Boisal. Mad Max, Kerry?
Acacius looks at Tessa. I am not sure what I can help with but if anyone needs a medicus come to me. Bjorn here will assist you with your most urgent needs.
Oisian looks at the woman that did not react to his shout. Thinking “beggars… already…” and begin to walk towards the woman as she approaches. (In a attempt not to sound like a warhammer ork I write in plain English, you have to imagine what it sound like). Hey you woman. What is you business here?
"Greetings. I come asking refuge. I see you are foreign and perhaps someone that knows about this country might find shelter among you to assist you even as you keep me from my family that would marry me against my will." She speaks an educated toned English wtih hint of french to it and her features are Norman. Though there is dirt along her hem, her clothing is in perfect condition, no rips or tears that aren't expertly mended and of high quality and colors as would be found among the wealthier of merchants.
Oisian thinks “This must mean trouble…”. Come with me. I will take you to someone in charge. They will decide if you get to stay. Oisian tries to remember where Dermot or someone else who call the shots are and takes the woman there. If possible he avoids the magi.
So far so Good, Kerry, will you play Dermot?
And sounding like an Orc seems so appropriate for these two!
The woman smiles as she is not turned away right away. She knows that perhaps she has a chance to escape her family here. She quietly follows the man that leads her away.
The two brutish young men lead the woman through land undergoing a lot of work to improve upon it. Logging, homes being built, sod rolled up, peat pulled from the bogs nearby, a few small flocks of sheep allowed to wander and graze. A young man dressed in a finer kilt that's seen plenty of hard worked days seems to be directing some of the folk that are working. He stands overlooking a table which has a large sheet of vellum unrolled on it and pinned down with rocks. Not so far from him sits an old man with a scraggly beard and long hooked nose, sleeping in a chair, a spilled mug of what was probably ale, and a small Scottish terrier dog chewing happily on one of his boots.
"Dermot!" Boisial calls to him. "Lord Dermot!" he quickly ammends as the young man looks up in some annoyance. "We found someone walkin' about in the woods!" he continues as he leads the way to him. As you approach he lifts up two of the rocks on one side and the sheet of vellum rolls up on its own, concealing whatever he was working on.
He looks on the woman with a critical eye, no doubt noticing that while the clothes have seen some wear, much like his, they are of a higher quality than someone who toils in the field. "Who are you? What are you doin' on my land?"
Oisian looks at the woman and tries to discern if she is up to something. Then he speaks. Woman, answer the lord of this land.
The woman draws herself up, she had merely been catching her breath after all she is pulling her small cart. "I am Rosaland Hendry, daughter of a well established cloth merchant and third cousin to Lord Rhys Hendry and I am seeking refuge. My family seeks to marry me to a man three times my age because of his connections. I had heard of a community of Foreigners so I gathered my belongings and fled. I am hoping that you will show mercy and give me sanctury for I fear I do not have a vocation that fleeing to the church was not an option." Her clothing and stance shows she has the sort of Norman breeding that she is speaking about.
Dermot raises an eyebrow and scratches his head after listening to her story. "So ye want to join us...have ye heard anything else about us? And if we should take ye in, what will happen when yer family comes lookin' for you And ye ain't got a vocation? So...what exactly do ye bring to us that should convince me to let ye stay?"
"I am the daughter of a cloth merchant, I know cities, I know bargaining and the langauge here very well. I can hear accents among those that met me coming in. I know clothes worn around here and expert with making cloth and clothing. This will help you in markets as well as with your neighbors since you will know their culture and customs which must differ from your own." She is not a genius but she does understand people. There is something about her that is persuasive.
"And what about when yer family comes lookin' fer ye here? We're a pretty close knit family here." He strokes the stubble on his chin as he thinks about it a few moments. "I'm not sure, seems like trouble to me..." Oisian and Boisial nod their agreement.
"Ach, don't tell me you're listenin' to those two tree stumps!" comes a woman's voice. She walks up to the table carrying a load of vegetables. "I'm Tessa, who're ye?" She asks pleasantly. Oisian and Boisial both step back from the table a bit nervously while Dermot rolls his eyes.
"She's the wayward daughter of a cloth merchant, tryin' to hide from her family that was marryin' her to an old codger. She says she knows a lot about makin' and sellin' cloth. Rosalind."
Tessa's eyes light up. "Aye? Truly? We're raisin' sheep and hope to have some wool come the fall."
Oisian thinks “Sure, sounds good now but wait until her relatives come asking for her… “ His face reveals some of his thoughts on the impending doom.
"when family come, we just don't tell I am here. I am sure I can be an asset." Of course she is not mentioning that if she is already married by then, that solves it some too but yeah, her family could cause some problems.
A particularly loud snore rips from the old man causing the dog to back off a step or two and flatten his ears and growl. The old man sits up slightly and looks around smacking his lips before leaning back and starting to snore again.
Dermot chuckles. "Old Aggie could always marry her." Oisian and Boisial laugh out loud and punch each other in the shoulders. Tessa punches them in the shoulder as well, only without the laughter and a lot harder. They stop laughing and wince, rubbing their sore arms.
"Alright Tessa, find a place for her to stay and put her to work, have her go with ye the next time ye go into town, maybe we can finally get them to stop gouging us over the prices."
"Sounds lovely!" agrees Tessa. "Come Rosalind, ye can stay with me tonight until we find a proper home." As Tessa is about to lead Rosalind away there is a bit of a commotion by what looked to be a lumber yard. Raw cut wood was stored there and covered with a tarp. A young man dressed as a succesful craftsman walks up to it and examines the pile briefly with a critical eye as some of the Scottish folk stop what they're doing to watch. He then directs a few strong lads to pull specific pieces of wood out from the pile and into a separate pile and helps them to it as well. Once a decent new pile is created he shoos them off with waves of his hand (it's odd that he doesn't speak to them) and begins to start speaking in a loud and firm voice, his hands making queer gestures as he does so. As all around him watch in amazement and fear the assembled pile of wood begins to rise into the air and the bark, knots and branches shear off of them, as if they're being planed by invisible hands!
Soon the wood is transformed from logs into neat planks and beams and assembled into a far more organized pile.
Rhodri is casting the Spell Mystical Carpenter, he has mastered it, and the casting is calm.
Die roll for Rhodri
Rolled on: 2010-04-02 06:47:18.933571
10 → 10
No botch dice need to be rolled, but the spell costs him a fatigue.
Welcome to the family Rosalind!