Completed [The Bronze Woods] Gathering on a Fine Fall Day

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love 33, Fall, 506 The woods at dawn were a gorgeous sight and Orin reveled in them. The leaves were just starting to change colors and there was a sharp scent of green in the air. Orin loved it. He had been ordered by his father the night before to go gather the nuts that had fallen. Orin knew to stay within sight of the fields and the protection they offered. He had heard too many stories about the monsters that would drag evil children into the forest, never to be seen again. After being told often how something must be wrong with him because he killed his mother in birth, Orin had a heightened fear and increased sensitivity towards those horror stories. So he’d take every precaution he knew, and if that meant that never venturing far from safety, well, Orin was fine with that. As always Orin had woken up when the first fingers of sunlight had started showing their way cautiously over the horizon. Orin had quietly put on his clothes and tiptoed past the slumbering form of his father, careful to listen for any change in the snores emitting from the bed his father slept on. He’d made it outside without incident. The moon was still high in the sky, and Syna and Leth were about to meet before they each went their respective ways. It was probably Orin’s favorite time of day. That was due in no short part to the fact that very few people were up and so his chances of encountering anyone were correspondingly smaller. But it was also because there was a quiet beauty that never failed to amaze him. As was his custom, he stopped for a moment, simply to bask in the solitude. He turned his face skyward and smiled, then uttered, ”Thank you Syna and Leth, for guiding us through another night and day.” It was a little morning ritual Orin had begun following every since he found out his mother had held a special reverence for the two deities. Since it was one of the few pieces of information he had been able to uncover about the woman who had died to give him life, he clung to it as if somehow it would bring her back. By the time he had arrived at the Bronze Woods, it was dawn proper. The walls of Syliras rose tall and proud in the distance. The farmers were just starting to trudge out to the fields to start the harvest and from here they looked like black specks creating furrows in the gently waving rows of grain. Orin grinned, glad that he had the day off from working the fields. He had no love for farming and any legitimate excuse he could find to avoid it he jumped at. He dreaded the days when he was considered old enough to help with the actual harvest instead of the various related tasks such as gathering and tying the fallen sheaves, threshing the grain to get the edible portion out of the chaff or winnowing what remained after all that. So, it was with a light heart that Orin turned and plunged into the woods, intent on his task.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love 33, Fall, 506 Orin picked his way carefully through the fallen branches. Small spots of light poked through the canopy created an intriguing speckled effect on the ground here and there. The barest hint of gold, red and brown peeked through the stronger greens of the still living leaves. Luckily seeing as it was still early in the fall, there wasn’t an inordinate amount of dead leaves on the ground. While Orin was far from an expert at moving through the woods, even he knew that it became disproportionately harder to stay silent when there were piles of crunchy leaves blanketing the forest floor. While it was rare to find predators this close to civilization a person could never be too careful. And besides, it was good practice for if he ever found himself alone in the woods, unlikely though it might be. The regular patrols through the area had done a good job of clearing the underbrush making movement relatively easy. Orin appreciated not having to beat off branches and remove himself from bramble patches every few feet. It was one of the many small comforts that the Syliran Knights provided for the citizens of Syliras, other than the obvious protection they offered. While there was probably some utility the knights gained from it, Orin was grateful. It also made the sightlines between the trees fairly clear, allowing Orin to spot potential trouble from farther away, which was much safer and surer than having to listen for it. The woods seemed relatively peaceful at this hour, filled with quiet birdsong that tended to pick up as Orin passed beneath them. The birds were probably scolding him for disturbing their territory. One of the advantages of getting up as early as he had was that he would beat any competition to the best spots. While generally the children were peaceful, fights had broken out over the choicest pickings before and Orin planned to be well away from any trouble spots before that happened. He was heading for a particular chestnut tree that had a reputation for having the sweetest and most abundant nuts. It also happened to be in a clearing that occasionally held herbs that could be used as a cooking spice. While Orin would be punished for not returning with enough nuts, if he came back with a little something extra it would probably slide. As he broke in to the bright sunlight that bathed the open space, Orin saw he was in luck. Not only was he the first person there, the scattered chestnuts not even looking like animals had got to them yet, there was a patch of batonal thriving in the center of the glade, it’s rounded leaves distinctive. Setting his sack down next to the tree, Orin took a second to breathe in the deeply aromatic scent the batonal gave off. If he could harvest even a little, it would improve any meal it garnished immeasurably. Sporting a happy grin, Orin dove into his work, going at an almost feverish pace as he worked to fill his sack with any nuts he could reach. He slipped on the gloves his father had grudgingly lent Orin. Orin was careful as he handled the spiky nut, their green almost porcupine like shells having pricked Orin’s hands many times in the past. They were well worth the trouble of gathering and preparing them though. Soon, Orin’s sack was bulging and the ground was scoured clear. Rocking on his heels, Orin glanced at the sky, trying to judge how much time had passed. He noted happily that the sun had not completed much more of its daily trajectory. Orin moved to the batonal secure in the knowledge that he was moving quickly even to please even the harshest taskmaster. So he felt confident that he could take the time to gather some for his own personal use.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Orin knelt on the ground next to the batonal, heedless of the dirt and grass stains that would appear on his clothes. The rich, earthy smell of the leaves was a heady aroma and Orin couldn’t wait until he got the chance to experiment with them. While the spice made when the leaves were dried then ground was excellent, creating a dark smoky taste, its best quality was that it enhanced the flavor of almost every other spice that it was combined with. Orin had only been able to use a little of it in the past since he didn’t usually have the time to harvest it personally and his father would never spend money on something so ‘frivolous.’ So Orin was understandably excited at this opportunity. The plant grew anywhere from six to eight inches. Orin removed his gloves, since he wanted finer control than he would get if he tried to move anything through the leather. While batonal was fairly hardy, Orin was hoping to come back to this patch in the future. And he couldn’t do that if he killed it with his bungling attempts at picking it. He’d handle it as carefully as he knew how. Taking a stalk in his hands, he pinched off the half-formed bud from the tip. When it opened, it would be pale lavender but the outside was a rather vivid yellow. Regardless, he wanted the plant to keep producing leaves and if it flowered it would start growing thicker and the leaves would lose their potency. The stalk was surprisingly stringy and flexible. It would spring back into place easily after being handled and could stretch without snapping for quite some distance. Flower pruned, Orin began pinching the leaves as close to the stalk as he could manage. He left behind small holes that leaked a clear sap that hardened almost immediately upon contacting the air. This was natural, and the new leaf that would grow would be stronger and larger because of it. The leaves were rounded and oval, and covered in a slight fuzzy substance that thankfully dissipated soon after it was removed from the main stalk. The older the plant the more potent the spice it made. Orin wasn’t anywhere near skilled enough to judge how old these happened to be though. They usually lived only for three to four years. Orin never had gotten the chance to confirm this though; it was simply what he had been told. Releasing his current stalk when he had stripped the top third of leaves, it settled back into place. He shuffled sideways on his hands and knees to move into place for the next batch. The sunlight shone down, bathing the entire clearing in a warm glow. Orin smiled slightly as it warmed the back of his neck. It never failed to cheer him up, and on days where he was already happy it lifted his spirits until he felt as if he was soaring. He dipped his head in a quick thank you to Syna. Humming happily, his belt pouch slowing filling with batonal, he was feeling supremely satisfied as he continued with his task.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Orin was so intent on his task that when he was shoved roughly from behind it took him completely by surprise. He went sprawling and only with a quick twist of his body was he able to avoid crushing the batonal. He still managed to tear up a few as he crashed to the ground but the main patch managed to escape unscathed. He heard giggles behind him and groaned, knowing what he would find behind him even before he looked. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, and angled his head in the direction of the shuffling footsteps behind him. As he expected, he found a group of three children, two boys and a girl. The boys were rather blocky, and brown all around: brown skin, brown hair, and brown eyes. The girl was a different matter entirely. She had wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, milky white skin, and an almost cherubic face. She also happened to be the bane of Orin’s existence. Her and her brothers, whom she led, went out of their way to torment Orin at every possible opportunity. Orin weighed his options. He knew from experience that sticking around would just result in an endless round of teasing culminating in a fight when they ran out of patience or Orin’s temper finally snapped. Since it was always three on one Orin would always lose badly and would usually take the blame. They came from a much more respected family and their word was seen as more trustworthy than his. However, they hadn’t managed to ring him yet, and his sack was sitting on the opposite side of the clearing, almost directly in front of him. If he dashed to it, he could potentially escape with no one the wiser. The siblings would likely be so startled that he could get a head start on them and hopefully he could lose them in the woods. The only downside was the potential to get lost. But even if he had to wait until dark and the lights from the fortress to guide his way, he could probably find his way back. While a chill of fear touched him at the thought of being in the forest after dark, that was the worst-case scenario. With luck, the bullies wouldn’t find chasing him worth their time and he would still be able to return home well before sunset. With certain pain, both emotional and physical on one hand, and the small chance at losing his way on the other, it was an easy choice really. Orin shifted his weight rocking back slightly until his weight was held mostly on the balls of his feet. Then, he rocketed forward, pumping his arms and legs hard as he broke into a sprint. His cloak flared out behind him and a chill wind cut into him as its protection was lost. As he passed his sack, he bent over and grabbed at its neck in his left hand. He swung it over his shoulder where it banged painfully once, before settling in to thump slightly with each pace he took. A few nuts fell out but he managed to rescue most of them without incident. He ignored the angry exclamations behind him, not sparing a glance backwards since it would cut down on his speed. Either he would get away or he wouldn’t. Soon, as he crashed through the undergrowth, making sure to dodge between trees and change directions often to confuse any of pursuers, their shouts and yells faded before disappearing entirely. Once Orin judged it was safe, he slowed to a walk, sides heaving as he gulped in air. He had a stitch and one leg threatened to cramp. He was also covered in small scratches from the tree branches and thorns he had brushed passed or crashed into. And he was completely, hopelessly lost.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Orin did his best to fight against the panic rising in his chest. He knew he couldn’t have gone that far since he wasn’t an expert sprinter or anything, but it didn’t really matter. He’d lost sight of the walls and he hadn’t been paying attention to the direction when he left his clearing or his path after that. He’d been much too focused on evading and throwing off any pursuit and simply getting out of there to pay attention to where he was going. Which is how he’d ended up in this dilemma. His normal calming technique of taking deep breaths wouldn’t work because he was gasping for air. He was bent double with his palms on his thighs, his left side and his leg muscles were cramping horribly, and his heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He wouldn’t be able to get his bearings until he overcame the side effects of his headlong dash. So he keep his eyes down, basically oblivious to his surrounding, and just focused on taking one breath after another. Eventually his heart started to slow down and his breathing steadied. Straightening up, Orin finally looked around him. As he feared, there were no recognizable landmarks. Groaning, partially from the lingering pain and partially from his rising stress. Orin tried to think of a way out of his predicament. Sadly, there wasn’t much he could do. Stumbling blindly in a random direction didn’t seem smart. And even if he knew enough about tracking to retrace his steps from the broken stems and whatnot of his passing, that would simply bring him right back into the situation he had just escaped from. So even if he could, it wouldn’t help him. That left him with climbing the tallest tree he could find and hoping he could spot something he knew in the distance. So, adjusting his pack full of nuts so it settled comfortably on his back, Orin set off to do just that. However, since Orin wasn’t the most physically adapt person, or that skilled at climbing, this took him longer than he would have liked. First of all, finding a tree that would bear his weight, was tall enough to see over the rest of the canopy, and had branches close enough to the ground and close enough together that Orin could actually make it to the top. None of this was an easy task. Also, since Orin was alone, he was moving extremely slowly and cautiously. He didn’t want to fall and break something. He could all too easily imagine lying there, alone and forgotten. He knew that no one in the outpost would come looking for him. So if he fell it would be a disaster. The bark scraped into his palms and crumbled under his fingers. It probably was underneath all his fingernails. But, eventually, he made it, and had a clear view. He could see the Outpost in the distance, and he glanced at the ground, trying to gauge which direction he would have to follow. He didn’t particularly want to climb another tree. He fixed his path in his memory, hoping he would be able to figure it out once he was back on the ground. Taking a look around him while he was up here, Orin noticed something. He felt the color drain out of his face and fear peaked. There were blacks clouds gathering in the sky. Orin was terrified that he would get caught out in a storm. The rains came fast, hard and sudden, with accompanying lightning. While it was fine when you were safely ensconced indoors, getting caught outside could be a death sentence. Orin scampered out of the tree like wild animals were at his heels. He stayed safe, but went significantly faster than when he ascended. Since his path was so unsure and his legs felt shaky from before, he couldn’t bolt, but he could walk quickly. And pray.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Orin didn’t beat the rain. In fact, the rain was essentially beating him. It was blowing nearly horizontally in a strong wind, blasting him in the face. He had managed to get out of the woods and not get lost just as the first droplets had started falling. He could see the walls of the Outpost in front of him. Farmers were still in the fields. Apparently the storm had come upon them just as unexpectedly as it had come upon Orin. He could hear shouting in the distance as people scrambled to get to cover. It was partially drowned out by the rumbling thunder. Most, people however, recognized the danger to the crops. Instead of scattering in a mad dash to the safety of the Outpost, they were rushing to grab large cloths. If Orin was working there, he might have been roped down with them. These oiled cloths were be used to tie down the already gathered bales of hay or fallen sheathes of grain and prevent them from blowing away in the event of a harsh wind or getting soaked, which would end up causing mold. A few shepherds, goatherds and cowherds could be seen driving their flocks frantically to the shelter of the barns just inside the walls. Orin was watching the nearest herd of sheep when there was a flash of lightning followed almost immediately by suddenly one of the younger rams broke. Orin gasped as he realized the ram was charging right towards him. There was already a sheepdog running full tilt towards the runaway ram and the child watching the sheep was shouting something unintelligible, but Orin could tell they wouldn’t arrive in time. That left him with two options. He could try to dodge out of the way. Or, he could try to catch it by the horns and wrestle it to the ground. Since his legs were still shaky from his earlier ordeal, the footing was uncertain since the rain was quickly turning to mud, and the ram seemed quite small from here, probably less than a year old. Orin felt more confident in his ability to grab the horns than in his ability to get out of the way in time, especially since it wasn’t unknown for rams to change direction mid-charge. Besides, if he dove to the ground and couldn’t get up in time, nothing was stopping the ram from making another pass. So, Orin narrowed his eyes against the rain and let the cloak he was holding to his body tightly with both hands go. It billowed outwards in the wind, but Orin didn’t notice, too focused on the oncoming danger. He bent his knees to brace himself and held both hands in front of him at the height he judged the horns would be. Sooner than he would have liked, the animal was directly in front of him. Orin grabbed for the horns, almost losing his grip because they were slick from the water coating them. However, his hands tightened as he pivoted on his right foot. His plan worked, as the rams own momentum threw it to the ground at the sudden change of direction. The sheepdog was arrived, yapping at the fallen beast as it struggled to its feet. The ram tossed its head, but nervous at the sheepdog snapping at its heels, obediently started trotting back to the flock. Of course, Orin almost missed seeing this, as his foot slipped out from under him. Falling backwards, arms windmilling wildly, Orin toppled. He managed to twist enough that he fell on his left side. He didn’t want to crush the sack of chestnuts. Otherwise, this day would’ve been a total loss. Now it was only Orin who was bruised. He was also covered in mud all up and down the left side of his body. The ground had turned into what felt like a mire in a short amount of time. This was clearly one of the more ferocious storms, almost legendary in its proportions. Orin staggered to his feet, slipping slightly as he misjudged the amount of mud once again. Finally he was upright. Tossing his wet hair out of his eyes, he pressed forward, bent over until his body was almost horizontal. It seemed to cut down on the resistance from the wind, at least slightly. Orin was already soaked through, so he didn’t bother to wrap himself in the cloak. His progress was slow but steady, and the walls drew closer with each step he took. Finally, he reached the gate, flung open by the guards to allow the stragglers in. Orin joined in with a stream of people coming in out of the rain. The walls cut down on the downpour, as did the overhanging roofs that one could dodge under, but they couldn’t stop it completely. The streets were already filling up a bit with water and Orin grimaced as some of it sloshed over the top of his boots. It would probably take days before the water evaporated completely from them, and he only had the one pair. Orin’s day just kept getting better and better.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Orin finally arrived at his home. He groaned at the state of its disrepair. The roof badly needed to be re-thatched. But since Orin’s father blew most of their extra money on booze, Orin had given up hope on actually seeing any money spent on his dilapidated home. At least the woodpile was stocked, showing that Orin’s father was relatively clearheaded, or at least he was when he had come in out of the rain. His father had also had the foresight to cover the woodpile in a smaller oiled cloth than was being used out on the fields. The concept was the same. So it was with a hopeful gait to his steps that Orin skipped up to his front door. Getting it open and shut proved to be more of a challenge than Orin had expected. He had to wrestle against the wind the entire time. It tried to blow the handle out of his weak grip, which would’ve caused the door to slam against the outer wall of the cottage. As he tried to close it, the wind fought him until Orin finally thumped it close. He latched it shut for good measure, vowing not go outside for anything. Orin removed his cloak and his boots by the door, since both were dripping water and muddy. It also let him delay his turning around and facing his father for as long as possible. However, the moment was inevitable, and Orin steeled himself. Stepping into the dimly lit cottage, Orin peered around as his eyes adjusted. Finally, he spotted his father slumped in his favorite chair by the fire, mug in hand. Sniffing the air, Orin grimaced. It smelled of cheap, spiced wine. Even if Alexander had been sober before, he most certainly wasn’t now. Hunching his shoulder, Orin tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. Alexander acknowledged him with a grunt and a wave of his hand, but didn’t get up to greet his son. That was better than a cuff to his head or a spanking from his belt, so Orin was happy enough. He would’ve hung his wet clothes by the fire to dry, but he didn’t particularly want to disturb his father’s quiet contemplations. Most of the time, Orin didn’t know what would spark his father’s temper. Going to the small pantry, Orin began unloading his sack on the proper shelf. The chestnuts were wet, but it wouldn’t harm them any. Orin risked a glance behind him. His father was staring into the fire, completely unaware of Orin. Orin carefully took the batonal out of his pouch, and hid it at the back of the shelf. He shifted the chestnuts until every hint of the herb was hidden. He really didn’t want Alexander to find them. He continued with the chestnuts until they were all out then hung the sack on a peg by the pantry door. Grabbing two buckets, Orin moved to the places where leaks had sprung in the last two storms. If another leak was going to start, there was nothing Orin could do, but at least he could act preemptively against these ones. That done, Orin stripped out of his cold, wet trousers and shirt and laid them flat against his chest of drawers. Hopefully they would dry out overnight. Throwing on a nightshirt and a clean set of underwear, Orin climbed under the covers for warmth. Though he hadn’t eaten anything, it was far from the first time he’d gone to sleep hungry. At least tonight he wasn’t in too much pain, and as warmth began returning to his limbs, Orin smiled.

[Balian Martell]

Orin Fenix

Skills:

• Observation: +4
• Foraging: +2
• Herbalism: +2
• Acrobatics: +2
• Running: +2
• Tactics: +2
• Land Navigation: +1
• Climbing: +1
• Animal Handling: +1

Lores:

• Between Leths Soft Glow and Syna's Light: Favorite time of day
• Crunchy leaves are bad for moving silently
• Batonal: Spice
• Batonal: A welcome addition to any Meal
• Location: The Clearing in the woods
• Batonal: The older the plant, the stronger the spice
• The Triplets: Orin's Bane
• When it rains it pours

Notes :

I very much like this thread and its progression, from a calm peaceful morning, to the chaos of the storm at the end. Not sure if it was intentional, but the foreshadowing was a nice touch.

If you've got concerns, just shoot me a pm.