This site will be shortly moving. It hasn't yet, but hopefully sometime this week, this site will be at alan.hilltopia.ca You can see this page as it was before I posted just now, and the link for Marchan on that page is correct. Some of the other links are broken right now :(, but I'll be correcting that hopefully this week before my wedding.
I'm in the midst of setting the new site up so that it's easy to administer. On the new site I only get one database, and I'm using that for hilltop. I'm working on making this site easy to administer as well. I can now easily post to it. This is the final test.
So our honeymoon went well. Except for getting sick while in the Dominican, and the fever on the day I went back to work. Ewww. Anyway, we're back into the swing of things, well, almost. In a week or so when my wife returns to work we should be.
In the morning they left early. Trevor leading Marchan and the pack horse out of the village. Charook wished them well as they left and told Trevor he looked forward to seeing him on his way back. The land around them was well cultivated and they travelled for some time before coming to a spot they could stop and let the horses eat grass without being too close to someone's crops. The fields were ripe and ready to be harvested. Marchan missed the days with his father as they brought in the grain together. It had been a few years since he had helped his father harvest the grain, but seeing the fields all around him brought it back with fresh potency.
Days passed as they travelled. Marchan's saddle sores started to get saddle sores. The sun was before them as they started out and cast long shadows behind them as they looked for somewhere to settle for the night. As weeks went on, they started to meet more soldiers on the roads. At first they were single messengers who did not look twice at Trevor and Marchan, but as they got closer and closer to the limits of the kingdom they met bands and whole companies. Some of the bands stopped them and asked questions. Some of the questioners were just curious about the goings on in the capital. Others, however, asked piercing questions asking their business. Trevor's rank as a ensign usually quieted these questions, until they met a captain who outranked him.
'What do you do here?' asked the captain. His squad took up defensive positions around the two travellers, as though they expected a fight. 'Are you abetting this spy?'
'I am following the directions of my captain to accompany this son of a hero to the limits of the kingdom, as you can see in these my orders,' said Trevor pulling out the orders Richard had drawn up the night before they left.
'Yes, all in order,' said the captain. 'Unfortunately, I can have someone about to leave the kingdom see our holdings. Your companion will have to be blindfolded as he passes through.'
'That's ridiculous!' exclaimed Trevor before Marchan even thought about it. 'You can't blindfold an ambassador!'
'Your orders said nothing of an ambassador,' said the captain warily.
'Of course not,' said Trevor. 'He has been travelling incognito. But he is travelling from the Capital of His Majesty's Realm to the Capital of the Dwarven Hold across the Bay of Chitay. You can hardly expect he's anything less than an ambassador.'
'Or a spy for that same Dwarven Hold,' said the captain. His men the whole time had kept their defensive positions. 'I have not yet heard him talk. Tell me,' he turned to Marchan at this point. 'Who are you?'
'I am as you see me,' Marchan replied. 'I am looking to join my own kind. I am no spy, for I have never been with them that I might work of them.'
'Very well,' said the captian. 'I will let you pass,' he paused, ' this time. There's something very strange about the whole thing, but orders are orders.'
They continued their journey. The road became better maintained and straighter, like military roads are wont to be. They met very few civilians in this area.
Finally one day came when Trevor pulled up and announced, 'As clear as I can make out, we've now reached the limits of the kingdom. This road, while build by our people into the reaches beyond, will lead us out of the kingdom. Except for incursions into the petty kingdoms beyond and in force, military men of our kingdom do not venture beyond this point. An ensign such as myself would most likely die at the hands of any of the random people out here.'
Marchan was surprised. 'So does that mean we must part ways?' he asked.
And I'm going to leave it right there. (Which I think is where I left the story the last time I tried telling it.)
Moving sites
by alan on Tue 1st Aug 2006 4:22PM
This site will be shortly moving. It hasn't yet, but hopefully sometime this week, this site will be at alan.hilltopia.ca You can see this page as it was before I posted just now, and the link for Marchan on that page is correct. Some of the other links are broken right now :(, but I'll be correcting that hopefully this week before my wedding.
updating
by alan on Mon 28th Aug 2006 3:11PM
I'm in the midst of setting the new site up so that it's easy to administer. On the new site I only get one database, and I'm using that for hilltop. I'm working on making this site easy to administer as well. I can now easily post to it. This is the final test.
Crept
by alan on Wed 30th Aug 2006 2:52AM
So our honeymoon went well. Except for getting sick while in the Dominican, and the fever on the day I went back to work. Ewww. Anyway, we're back into the swing of things, well, almost. In a week or so when my wife returns to work we should be.
In the morning they left early. Trevor leading Marchan and the pack horse out of the village. Charook wished them well as they left and told Trevor he looked forward to seeing him on his way back. The land around them was well cultivated and they travelled for some time before coming to a spot they could stop and let the horses eat grass without being too close to someone's crops. The fields were ripe and ready to be harvested. Marchan missed the days with his father as they brought in the grain together. It had been a few years since he had helped his father harvest the grain, but seeing the fields all around him brought it back with fresh potency.
Days passed as they travelled. Marchan's saddle sores started to get saddle sores. The sun was before them as they started out and cast long shadows behind them as they looked for somewhere to settle for the night. As weeks went on, they started to meet more soldiers on the roads. At first they were single messengers who did not look twice at Trevor and Marchan, but as they got closer and closer to the limits of the kingdom they met bands and whole companies. Some of the bands stopped them and asked questions. Some of the questioners were just curious about the goings on in the capital. Others, however, asked piercing questions asking their business. Trevor's rank as a ensign usually quieted these questions, until they met a captain who outranked him.
'What do you do here?' asked the captain. His squad took up defensive positions around the two travellers, as though they expected a fight. 'Are you abetting this spy?'
'I am following the directions of my captain to accompany this son of a hero to the limits of the kingdom, as you can see in these my orders,' said Trevor pulling out the orders Richard had drawn up the night before they left.
'Yes, all in order,' said the captain. 'Unfortunately, I can have someone about to leave the kingdom see our holdings. Your companion will have to be blindfolded as he passes through.'
'That's ridiculous!' exclaimed Trevor before Marchan even thought about it. 'You can't blindfold an ambassador!'
'Your orders said nothing of an ambassador,' said the captain warily.
'Of course not,' said Trevor. 'He has been travelling incognito. But he is travelling from the Capital of His Majesty's Realm to the Capital of the Dwarven Hold across the Bay of Chitay. You can hardly expect he's anything less than an ambassador.'
'Or a spy for that same Dwarven Hold,' said the captain. His men the whole time had kept their defensive positions. 'I have not yet heard him talk. Tell me,' he turned to Marchan at this point. 'Who are you?'
'I am as you see me,' Marchan replied. 'I am looking to join my own kind. I am no spy, for I have never been with them that I might work of them.'
'Very well,' said the captian. 'I will let you pass,' he paused, ' this time. There's something very strange about the whole thing, but orders are orders.'
They continued their journey. The road became better maintained and straighter, like military roads are wont to be. They met very few civilians in this area.
Finally one day came when Trevor pulled up and announced, 'As clear as I can make out, we've now reached the limits of the kingdom. This road, while build by our people into the reaches beyond, will lead us out of the kingdom. Except for incursions into the petty kingdoms beyond and in force, military men of our kingdom do not venture beyond this point. An ensign such as myself would most likely die at the hands of any of the random people out here.'
Marchan was surprised. 'So does that mean we must part ways?' he asked.
And I'm going to leave it right there. (Which I think is where I left the story the last time I tried telling it.)