- Messages
- 192
- Character Biography
- Link
Early spring
Down in the bowels of the Knoll, in the kitchens after the morning rush, suds bubbled and popped and gathered about in little clusters of froth amidst a washbin. Green hands worked a bristly scrub with and a splash. The drainage was corked, and Roki was glad the soap was scented like lilac and lavender. It helped cut the smell of all the old grease and char that caked on to the wooden trays. Made it easier to get the crud off too.
A sharp whistle from across the room grabbed his attention. "Oy, you're going to be late for training if you don't hurry up, Roki," Tarren called out.
Roki grinned like smoke. "Yeah, right, I'll be right there,"
Tarren clicked his teeth. "Sure you will, Onion," he laughed, and made away.
He wasn't wrong though. Of all the things Roki liked doing, training in the yard was low on the list. And there was always so much to do. So, he went on scrubbing the wooden bowls free of the gunk that clung to them. A stack of clean ones piled high beside him. Till, the last trencher was laid down to dry. The cork was loosed, and the cruddy water drained through the gunk catch. A net, made by some squire, most like, honing their yarn work.
Shifty, the squire's eyes scanned about. The coast was clear, so he would just... slip away.
Alouette
Down in the bowels of the Knoll, in the kitchens after the morning rush, suds bubbled and popped and gathered about in little clusters of froth amidst a washbin. Green hands worked a bristly scrub with and a splash. The drainage was corked, and Roki was glad the soap was scented like lilac and lavender. It helped cut the smell of all the old grease and char that caked on to the wooden trays. Made it easier to get the crud off too.
A sharp whistle from across the room grabbed his attention. "Oy, you're going to be late for training if you don't hurry up, Roki," Tarren called out.
Roki grinned like smoke. "Yeah, right, I'll be right there,"
Tarren clicked his teeth. "Sure you will, Onion," he laughed, and made away.
He wasn't wrong though. Of all the things Roki liked doing, training in the yard was low on the list. And there was always so much to do. So, he went on scrubbing the wooden bowls free of the gunk that clung to them. A stack of clean ones piled high beside him. Till, the last trencher was laid down to dry. The cork was loosed, and the cruddy water drained through the gunk catch. A net, made by some squire, most like, honing their yarn work.
Shifty, the squire's eyes scanned about. The coast was clear, so he would just... slip away.
Alouette