RP:Final Stable Touches
The soft rumble of wooden wheels upon a beaten forest path echoed softly to the outskirts of the Eternal Forest. Through the early morning haze emerged twin wagons, a large wolfen male at the front of the small convoy. One by one the crews within the covered wagons exited, each bearing the crest of the Fold on their tunics. Each man was lightly armed, a spear at their side or short sword. All of them sported an additional tool in their hand, be it ax, shovel, or hoe. None of the soldiers expected any trouble, but the Eternal Forest was known for anything. Better to be ready, than having to retreat shamefully back to Larket for protection, the Lycan commander had mused to his men. Silent and moving in accordance to predetermined plans, the men fanned out into the clearing assigned for the construction of the stables. Trees were methodically felled where ever they obstructed. Weeds were torn from the earth as hand held hoes and shovels burrowed to make holes in preparation of foundations for both fencing and walls. There was something to be said for the respect the Fold militiamen had for their commander. He worked as hard, if not harder than the others. Hauling pounds after pounds of upturned earth from the site, Rhocielle was as silent and uncomplaining as the rest of his men. They had a job to do, and knew in the bottom of their hearts that if they required more compensation, their commander would provide, even from his own coffers. For such a promise of reward guaranteed to them, their toiling was relentless.
As the patch of forest grounds slowly gave way to the might of civilization, a third, fourth, and even fifth wagon arrived. With only a pair of drivers at the front, the rest of the cargo space within the wagon was set aside for actual supplies. The group of assigned lumberjacks halted in their tasks to unload the goods. Short barrels of nails were soon placed on the ground alongside carpentry tools from one wagon while the others were unloaded of its already cut lumber. Those were to be left for the actual walls and support beams of the stable itself. The previously cut trees were already being pruned and prepped for their eventual use as components for the fence. Makeshift bolts were made from the thickest branches, to be slotted into holes made from hand drills and hammers with chisels. Using their own horses, an appropriate height was estimated for stable’s future fences. With so much still to be done in the limited daylight hours that remained, the fence itself was to be the group’s priority. Those previously working to prepare the land for the stable’s foundations set aside their tools in favor helping construct the posts and wooden railings.
One section at a time, the perimeter of the site was sealed off from the rest of the Eternal Forest as the sun came up towards its apex. A break was taken for rations and morsels as only the main gate was left to be set up. The wagons, save for one, had returned to the city for a second retrieval of supplies. Should something had happened during the construction, the men still had a wagon to transport their wounded while the rest would provide cover and defense. Rhocielle sat atop the pile of finished lumber, using a blank slab and piece of charcoal to lay out further plans to his sergeants. The remainder of the chopped trees were to be allocated to use for both what left to be built of the fences and the posts for tying up horses near the front. The rest of the men-at-arms rested along the finished portions of the fence, taking a smoke of rich tobacco from Xalious, or chewing on dried venison jerky from Sage. It was a different sight from the unyielding labor in the early morning hours. A soft tune broke out from one of the men, a mandolin unsheathed from an intricately crafted leathern bag. Despite the initial jeers and taunts of camaraderie from their squad mates, the tune grew in sound, followed by the tuneless braying of those soldiers that somehow knew the bardic song by heart. The forest was soon filled with the raucous singing of men forgetting the world and simply enjoying the deceptive peace and tranquility forest that housed dangerous beasts in its interior.
The respite of the wolfen commander’s men was short lived. A low bark, if only to get their attention, was given in an hour’s time by the Lycan, shortly before taking a soft leap from the lumber pile to resume work. Steadily, the men fell back into line and continued on in their labors. By the time first orange hues of the late afternoon began marring the otherwise clear blue skies above, the second shipment of finished lumber. A fully functioning gate welcomed them, as well as the beginnings of a sturdy foundation. The corner posts and support beams stood proudly in one corner of the fenced in area. The finished pieces of lumber that arrived from the city were soon being erected against the posts to make the walls that would shield the Larket herds of horses from the elements. The thickest planks were promptly nailed, one by one, to assemble the exterior of the stables while the thinner planks laid idly by until the interior would be built. Despite the growing hour of the afternoon, the Fold soldiers worked as swiftly, if not more so, as in the morning. The faster they could have the stables built, the faster the group could return to the more comfortable confines of the barracks. If they could not finish by nightfall, then the best the men could hope for would be at least sleeping beneath the soon to be erected roof of the stable over their heads. The former was a far more pleasant notion, by far.
The sounds of hammers pounding filled the air as one by one the walls were built from the ground up. The sections made for the storage of feed and other supplies were the first to be constructed. In the meantime, they would serve to store the remaining building supplies and the foodstuffs of the builders themselves. Always a careful and meticulous group, the Fold soldiers were. A slower and more lumbering wagon could be heard well before it was actually seen along the path that led back into Larket. Horses that were large enough to be mistaken for shaven mammoths. Larket Clydesdales, meant to carry their most heavily armored knights into battle, were the first to be given lodgings in the soon to be finished stables. For the moment, however, they were used as beasts of burden in order to bring more raw materials that would be used for later expanding the structure and its fencing. The heavy beasts were unhitched and gently led into the first stalls that were completed. A pat on their hulking flanks and a bag filled with feed were their welcome. They were home.
Slowly but surely, orange and violet hues began creeping into the previously pristine blue sky. Half of the stable was fully functioning. The portions that were not were haphazardly covered with fallen branches with leaves in order to make shelters for the increasingly weary workers. The black Lycan commander himself had begun to make preparations for his men. The drumming sounds of hammers soon gave way to the soft crackle of a communal fire pit just outside the fencing. Smoke rose to play with the mingling hues of the evening sky as the sun set in the west. The scent of fresh stew and meat wafted in the air, tools exchanged for weapons. Food always tempted the most desperate of animals to wander too close for comfort towards the camps of men. Guards alternated as their comrades ate and rested. Again the lighthearted strumming of the mandolin teased at the slowly howling winds of the forest. The twin moons of Hollow seemed to peer through the lazily passing clouds as if to keep watchful gaze upon the camp. Talks of plans and building were cast aside to the flames, replaced with the idle chatter of past life and future dreams. One more than one occasion the conversation turned towards the Lycan’s relationship with the General. It was more than obvious to any man worth his armor that the High Elf and her warder had taken to become lovers. Such discussion was quickly quelled by the wolfen commander, in a jovial manner of bawdy threats of tongue removal or skinning. In the end, it turned to solemn and respectful wishes of happiness. They all knew of the solitary life Arien had endured before her wolf had arrived.
As the twins moons of Hollow lazily rose over a hilly horizon, silence fell over the camp. The hard labors of the day had taken their tolls upon the Fold soldiers. Only the wolfen commander remained upright, atop the pile of lumber that had yet to be used. His canine ears flicked lightly atop his furry scalp as they picked out scant sounds in the distance, as well as around him. Quiet chatter of the men proceeding chuckles from a joke told, or two. The rustling of surrounding underbrush beyond the fences followed the growls of predators and prey playing in the darkness. The Lycan snorted softly, a billowing jet of warm air contrasting against the colder night wind. He eventually slept, as best he could. Canine muzzle dipped low towards his chest. He slept a dreamless sleep. Dreams were made of what others longed and wished for. He had his High Elf. He wished for nothing more.
The first tweets and callings of song birds roused the Lycan from his light slumber. Rays of light slipped through the canopy in an ethereal fashion, reflected off the misty air from morning dew. Faints groans and protests were heard from awakening men. There was still a job to finish. The following hour was spent in eating a cold meal of preserved meat and bread. Idle chatter filled the small camp, regarding what was left to build. Comparatively less needed to be done. The last of the stalls needed to be roofed properly. As half continued in their meager breakfast, the others trudged in more or less a purposeful gait towards the stables. A passing pat on the head was given to the horses already housed there. Carefully, the men formed up to make human stepping stools, hoisting their brothers onto the half assembled rafters. The lightest of the remaining beams of lumber were lifted with care. A basket of hammers and nails followed. As the remaining soldiers finished, they charged themselves with bringing the planks and straws that would soon become the hopefully waterproof roof over the heads of the horses. The light around them slowly grew brighter as the morning carried along, casting away the low haze that clung to grass of the cleared land. Dull thuds echoed lightly as crude iron nails bound the roof to the structure once the proper materials were delivered. Slowly but surely, the interior of the stables was fully shaded from the light above.
The sun blazed in its apex as the last of the straw was laid up on the erected roof. Sighs of relief escaped the men, accompanied by a few lazy flops upon the ground, tools dropped beside. It was finished. The stable was large enough to house quite a number of horses, with enough materials in the far corner of the building to eventually expands as needs were required. The few weapons they had brought with them were secured just as a wagon arrived. Feed and water were unloaded, weapons and men loaded in kind. The wolfen commander did not join, instead he would walk steadily behind and eventually continue on towards Larket to inform the queen while his men returned home. There was still much to do. There always was.
Related Pages:
- Larket
- Part of the Larket's Renovation Arc