Open Chronicles A Song to Return Home To - Shire of Oak Valley

[Wren]

Somewhere off in the distant valleys, quiet and peaceful and secluded from the rest of Arethil, the smallfolk of Oak Valley went about their day. Farmers tended to harvest of green-leafed vegetables, children played through the flowering meadow, a herder watched over his flock. The sun beamed warm, the breeze blew soft. The smells of home drifted out over the road leading to the west - a road that Gilabree Gandy had traveled many times before.

And would travel many times more again.

Though devastation was the cause for her return, it was with a hopeful heart that she made the long journey back to the place of hearth and home. With a gentle click she encouraged the cart pony's slow amble, pulling what little she had left to call her own, cresting a hillside that overlooked the valley. Misty eyes took in a sight that made her heart sing and a smile pull at her face.

"There it is Basil," her gentle voice sounded over the creaks of the small wagon and the hoofsteps of the cartpony, "just as green and splendid as ever. What a sight, what a sight indeed."

Homecoming was always so bitter sweet.

Baleworth Gandy

 

[Baleworth Gandy]

Baleworth Gandy had just raided the storeroom of the Butterford's estate, making out with sackfuls of different vegetables in either hand, a keg of beer under one arm. His gangly body gave him the advantage over the fatter kinder running far behind, yelling curses and obscenities at the chuckling thief as his feet prodded through thickets near a dwindling creek that ran through the valley. Large, thick oaken trees gave relief from the blaring sun that filled the land with warmth, a bit of sweat protruding from his brow as he continued on. Eventually noticing his assailant had long since given up, Baleworth did a small jig before slowing to a walking pace, whistling to himself as he made his way to his secret hidey-hole near the winding body of water. Eventually coming upon an oak larger than the rest, whose roots grew somewhat into the stream itself, the little halfling pushed through brambles that rested just between the snaking roots. Beneath the earth was dug out to encompass a small, dirt rung cave nestled just beneath the tree, filled with sacks of food, and a few barrels of different alcoholic variety. A small table sat near the entrance, with a single, low sitting chair. Atop the old, warping planks of wood that the table was comprised of, a few small bags of gold and a pipe lay undisturbed. Baleworth nodded, affirming no one had found the place yet. The keen, brown eyed reveler left a few valuables out to entice any would be robbers, thereby notifying him of compromised positions. As he set down his newfound goods in their categorical areas, he dug around in his coat pocket a moment before revealing to himself a engraved locket of gold, the chain slinking over his fingers as he held the main body in his palm. The locket was in the shape of a heart, and when he opened it a picture of an overweight kinder woman graced his view, a wart springing off a bulbous nose. He pursed his lips in mock disgust before giving himself a little slap on the knee for such a find.

"I think I'll bribe old man Butterford with you, sweet treasure! Mama Butterford, bless her little soul," Baleworth kissed the locket before closing it shut, looking up at the twisting roots above. "Sorry, I still gotta eat though!" he said as if the woman were scolding him from the Astral Valley. Putting his find in an auspicious sack of potatoes which nestled far beneath the rest of his food supply, the kinder then reached above him, running nimble fingers throughout the expanse of roots and dirt above, before finding a small herb pouch he had hung hidden from view. Bringing it to the table, he filled up his pipe before cursing to himself for his lack of a tinder box, muttering small, quick syllables which comprised the halfling dialect. Kicking off his muddied boots to reveal the calloused, hairy feet which he stood upon, and hanging his dirt brown jacket on the back of the chair, Baleworth gripped the pipe's mouthpiece between his teeth and pulled his two braids over the left shoulder, a billowing cotton tunic overlapping formfitting leather pants. Stepping out from his little cave, the kinder reset the bramble and set off across the stream in the direction of north-east, wading ankle deep across smoothed stones which littered the stream bed. His whistle carried across the sounds of the flowing course, he took a moment to breathe in the deep smells of the forests before stepping onto the top of a rather steep incline which was on the opposite bank. Using a bit of help from the roots of another tree which fed off the streams supply, he hoisted himself up with ease, yet somewhat awkwardly as he balanced the pipe so as not to spill its contents. Now making his way through thinning forests, in front of him tall fields of wheat swayed in the breeze behind the scattered oaks which sat about. Breaking through from the forest into a small clearing before the field itself, he looked to his right to see many a hills which had small smoke stacks jutting out from beneath the ground, plumes of smoke rising into the air signifying meal time, brightening his mood along with the midday sun. Baleworth now walked with a skip in his step as his stomach growled in anticipation. He was ready to eat.

Nearing the small town he over heard the playtime of a dozen or so children all running about, at the edge of the wheat field one small boy poked his dirt smudged face from the tall grass, squinting his eyes at Baleworth.

"Ey Shadow, where ya been? We missed ya fer hide-n-seek this morning, now we're all playing tag in farmer Mortimer's crop before the hands get back, wanna join?" Large green eyes waggled at him, and Baleworth gave him a wry grin.

"Not now Bartholemew, Shadow's got important work to do!" The child gave him a sardonic look.

"Did you just talk about yourself in third person? And when do you ever work?" he said before scowling at the rogue who promptly ignored him, Baleworth prepared to get to the village. The small boy watched him a moment longer before yelling, "Don' tell anyone I was here!" popping his head back between the tall brush, a yelp and small curse followed as he gave away his position.

Baleworth continued on switching between humming and whistling the little tune in his head, now coming upon a small dirt path which led into the heart of the village. The village centered in oak valley was called in kinder tongue a shire, it was actually considered a hamlet by the elves, as most of the small folk farmed the outlying area, instead using the close cropped hills central of the area as their trading hub for the few trades plied. Amidst the sloping hills, round doorways cut into the sides, sometimes the occasional window poked from the green grass. Otherwise, unless one were keenly aware of the presence of the kinder, they'd be hard pressed to notice such things, save for the smokestacks and doors. Even then, most doorways had rolls of grassy cover that could be used to disguise their home's entrances in case of attack.

As Baleworth became surrounded by the rolling green, he spotted a particularly large mound whose circular entrance stood open, three crooked smoke stacks appearing from above, all spewing thick clouds. The sounds of laughter carried from inside, silverware clinking on plates and mugs being drunkenly set upon oak spilled forth into the halfling's ears like a symphony, and his chest swelled. He neared his way to the entrance, his nose smelt roasted mutton and steamed vegetables mixed with the stench of mead and perfume of smoked herb, his eyes set upon the scene of crowded rows of tables, with an extensive bar in the far back left corner. Support beams were evenly placed throughout to keep the mound of dirt from falling in on itself, the interior floor, walls, and low hung ceiling covered by planks of treated oak. Scruffy kinder men sat about eating and drinking, slapping each other's backs, producing thick smoke from pipes similar to Baleworth's, all at least a tad dirty from working in the fields. Space was limited, therefore no matter where you were sitting everyone was elbow to elbow, and getting through the crowded tables one had to side step. A little plump bar maiden shuffled back and forth between tables to fill requests, her smooth, rosy cheeks and big brown eyes mesmerizing the rogue standing in the doorway. Baleworth watched her bosom, thick like her bottom, other tantalizing features which caught him in a trance. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, he was dreaming of her enveloping him in her arms like drunks held their tankards, dreamily, as if it were the only thing in the world. He was promptly snapped out of it as someone called out his name, and soon those near him covered their hands over their pockets to keep anything they had on them. The bar maiden looked up in surprise, before her face scrunched as if a sour taste filled her mouth.

"Baleworth, you got enough money to pay off yer tab?!" she yelled across the din of flickering candles and kind-hearted exchange.

"M'lady, a provider like me always has ample coin, for such sweet treats as yerself!" Baleworth said coyly, giving her a sly wink as he sidled near to her. He tried to lean in to give her a kiss on the cheek, but when she saw his motive a hand picked up an empty iron plate from one of the tables and smacked him across the face with it.

"You lay a hand on me again, I swear you'll wish Hissut devoured yer soul!" she yelled at him before stomping off through a doorway near the bar, at the back wall. Baleworth rubbed food particles off his face and those who noticed the exchange gave hearty laughter. A particularly old kinder who she'd grabbed the plate from tugged at his sleeve and said, "Better luck goin' to the edge of the valley, hear there's old hags who made convent together after old age got 'em, probably yer best bet!" The old timer slapped his knee and gave a wheezing cough, Baleworth shrugging his shoulders.

"I think she'll come around eventually, just mad about the other night is all!" he said cheerily, which made another who sat opposite of the old man shake his head.

"I dunno if there's any woman alive who wants your hands beneath their garments, Baleworth, and after that stunt I say good luck getting back on the missy's good side!" Baleworth waved off the chastiser's notions and headed for the bar, where a heavy, middle aged and balding kinder eyed him suspiciously. Innocence flooded the younger one's face, and the barkeep set a hand on the bar.

"We aren't feeding ya til you pay up what you owe, Baleworth."

"Oh, c'mon now Hucks, we're old pals! Is this how you treat friends?"

"Friends don't kick over half the tavern's furniture and raid the bar in frenzy, much less the employees, Baleworth. That drunken stunt last time was the limit, 'specially since we had to replace half the chairs in here, AND a table. Really, I'm being kind to ya right now, you owe me a lot more in damages, but I kept it at your food and drink tab, so if ya want lunch, pay up."

Baleworth gave a concerned frown, scratching his head as he tried to remember that night. It really was a blur, and all he got from his brain was the image of him waking naked amidst a pig pen the next day, squalor for a kinder of his stature. Nodding in affirmation towards the probably true story, he felt around in his pockets for his gold purse before picking out. Laying it on the table, he gave the barkeep a mock bow.

"Take it all good sir, now a meal please! Oh, and you've a tinder box?"

The barkeep threw him a box of matches from under the bar and Baleworth lit his pipe, puffing out smoke with every breath to get the flame in his apparatus stoked. Hucks dumped the coin pouch out and began counting, before saying

"You're two hundred short."

Gilabree Gandy

 

[Wren]

The cart bobbled over cobbled and dirt roads, crossing along countryside interlaced by farms and fencing. Wildflowers rustled and danced at either side, growing over a head high as the cart pony trotted in through the main Shire roadway. Gilee clicked, her own small form jostling and bobbling along in tandem. They passed by fenced-in gardens with faces poking out years older than those she last recalled seeing.

A friendly nod to her left, a wave to her right. Blearly eyes blinked after her in wonder, surprise, astonishment -

"GILABREE!" and excitement.

Giggles followed after her as two smallfolk children bandied after the cart.

"You're back!" and from either side she was beset by red curls and brown locks, small hands and warm hugs.
"Jarel, Pemma," a squeak of delight from herself as she laughed into their arms, "back indeed. Look at you, you've not even an inch taller than the last."
"I'm almost as tall as you!" Jarel stated mightily.
"Where have you gone to Gilabree? Tell us where you've been!" Pemma pleaded.
"All across the lands, yes," Gilee nodded warmly, "do you know the mountain you see on a clear day when you stand atop the Gallow Hill?"
"You've been there?"
"There, and farther still. Beyond what your eyes can see!"
"Will you tell us all about it?"
"That's quite a lot to tell."

And slowly as the cart did amble, word of Gilabree's return filtered across the Shire. From ear to ear, a bug on the wind, whispering in through open windows and doorways.

 

[Baleworth Gandy]

Baleworth was still debating the barkeep about the tab when Gilabree's name began to prick the eardrums in the kinder's head. Baleworth ceded defeat in the battle of debate as he steered his way through the crowd to get outside, his keen hearing picking up the sound of a horse drawn cart in the distance. He did a little dance and cheered to himself as he ran down the dirt covered road, barefoot, ready to meet his sister.

He saw the vehicle from a distance, hiding himself behind one of the oaks which lined the road, pressing his back against the bark to stand out less. He planned to surprise his sibling and waited in glee at the jest. Upon the slow arrival of the wagon the wily frame climbed to the back and quietly moved its way to the front masked by the ramblings of apothecary supplies and other provisions brought along. As he neared the back of his sister, Baleworth latched two hands onto either shoulder and drew her back yelling "BOO!" in her face.

 

[Wren]

"AHHH!" yelled Gilee.
"WAAAH!" yelled Jarel.
"WOOO!" yelled Pemma.

The cart pony's tiny feet clicked up pace at the sudden fright, taking to a clipped trot around a turn. The cart creaked and the wagon wheels groaned, leaving the lot of them swaying and scrambling as it tipped off the corner.

"What's that got my shoulders?" said Gilee with wide eyes and a wider smile, gathering up the reins and giving them a gentle tug, "It's gone scared Basil."

"Baley!" Pemma exclaimed, "that wasn't funny. You scared us!"
"Not me," Jarel grinned, "I knew he was there."
"You didn't! You yelped like a dog," Pemma said back.

"Well he certainly scared me," Gilee interjected, "always sneaking about he is. Did you know he learned that from a mouse?" She leaned back to bump against her brother, giving him a fond smile over her shoulder, "Used to sneak into the kitchen as a litl'un and take all the cookies he did. Ma never heard him once."

Baleworth Gandy

 

[Baleworth Gandy]

Baleworth shook his head.

"Ma heard sis, trust me! She just left pa to find out afterwords, always knew he'd raise more fuss about it than she!" He laughed before patting the heads of the two others sitting next to his sibling, pushing them to the side so he could sit on the cart bench with them as they pulled into town. His dirtied feet kicked up one over the other, and his fingers folded back behind his head. He leaned back and relaxed as the wooden wheels rolled down the winding road.

"You've got some money on you sis, yeah? Ol' Hucklebee's swindling me on some grub today-" his belly groaned egregiously as if in response, "I paid him the last of my gold I'm afraid!" Baleworth bemoaned himself up to the sky as if he were telling his tale to some angel following overhead, trying to pull the heartstrings of the piteous which he had little trouble doing. "I mean, who would try and pull these tricks on a little kinder like me?! It's probably my feet, these old timer's always been jealous that I got less feet than they do, theirs looking like fish fins to my elven toes!" He looked over to the two children, wiggling his toes at them. "See what I mean? My toes have the barmaids in a woozy when I walk in the room you two, ain't no doubt in my mind!"

 

[Wren]

To this Gilee offered a small chuckle, clucking after the cart pony as they came to a hill. The wagon pitched upwards, clip clop clip clop.

Baley's question saw his sister's smile fade, trying with amusement as he told the youngin's about his feet. Truly magnificently small feet, they were. The boy awed at them, Pemma made a face.

"Those are just some dirty old feet. What lady would want anything to do with those!"

"How do I get small feet like that?" Jarel grinned.

"They're a gift," Gilabree answered, "you've got to be born with them. Oh but I'm afraid I haven't any money to spare," a rare frown shadowed her face, "my shoppe in Alliria was burned to the ground and looted. Everything I have left is on this cart. But I've some fresh vegetables - could fix up a nice stew for you once I get home and unpacked."

 

[Baleworth Gandy]

"A gift to be born with indeed! Some god or whoever graced my birth with their presence, and now are forever present on any path I walk, all because my toes make it so!" He winked at the children before his stomach grumbled. He rubbed his belly at the sound of stew, which he nodded fervently in agreement with the gesture. "Stew sounds like a wonderful treat, been a long time since I've set foot inside the Burrow to be honest with ya sis, been hard for me since ma n' pa died, been keepin' to the river lately, y'know I've always been fonder of that area." When she spoke of the shops dismal end, he frowned. "Tell me what happened, sis! And how's Alliria, I've always wanted to go, I dunno why my feet never found the time to move forward..." He looked out across the rolling green landscape that made up the Shire of Oak Valley. "Maybe it'll be time for me to set out soon... Go see the world and leave behind the comforts we small folk seem to hoard..." He looked up at the billowing clouds which meandered across the sky, his head daydreaming as his ears prickled with the sounds that entered their chambers.