Fable - Ask WANTED: Volunteers, Refugees, Hunters, Woodsmen, and Men-At-Arms

[Llewen Merrick]

For many nights Llewen sat thinking of how he might gather the workforce necessary to turn his 380 acres of dense brush and forest into farmland to uphold his oath to Princess Helia. He could ask people directly--but that would take precious time he might not have. No, he would need something more efficient. After a chance incident passing by a paper nailed to a door seeking workers for a small shop, Llewen got his idea: he'd make a flier of his own. While in town he'd heard of the war in Vel Anir; perhaps there would be some refugees from there seeking a good home. These lands also had to be home to many hunters and woodsmen, that perhaps might be seeking lodging.

He spent some of his pittance on paper and some ink, and began penning multiple fliers. Once morning came, he began to ride swiftly, nailing his notice to many of the roads surrounding Mardus. The message was simple, and clear:

WANTED: VOLUNTEERS, REFUGEES, HUNTERS, WOODSMEN, AND MEN-AT-ARMS

HOUSE MERRICK NEEDS SKILLED AND HARDWORKING PEOPLES AND WILL OFFER ROOM AND BOARD TO ANY WILLING TO WORK. WE SEEK TO RECLAIM THE LAND AND TURN A FOREST INTO FARMLAND. ANY WHO VOLUNTEER MAY RECEIVE A PIECE OF LAND TO CALL THEIR OWN AND MAY BECOME A VASSAL OF HOUSE MERRICK.

FOLLOW THE OLD ROAD WITH THREE FALLEN PINES TO CASTLE MERRICK AND INQUIRE WITHIN TO LLEWEN MERRICK.

(the last part is hastily scrawled) HUNTERS, PLEASE BRING YOUR OWN EQUIPMENT.

​

Llewen posted the notice as far as he could ride without getting lost, then hurried back to Mardus. He purchased as many axes and woodcutting tools as he could afford, then at last made the journey back to Castle Merrick. He'd hoped he would arrive before any potential volunteers, as he was the only one who resided in his castle at the moment, and it would be exceedingly awkward if someone were to arrive there first.

He was exhausted, but he arrived before nightfall and awaited any arrivals, giving in to sleep once evening had fallen. Would anyone come at all? Or had his pledge to the Princess been for nothing but his own exile?

 

[Derugonia]

The wind bit through her woolen cloak, clasped tightly around her as she paused at the eave of the forest. It was a bitterly cold night. The blizzard had come out of nowhere, proving again that she had a terrible sense of timing and an even worse gauge of the weather. Thankfully, however, she had an excellent sense of direction. Through the snow whipping across the rolling hills before her, her keen eyes could make out the vague silhouette of a castle in the distant dark. A few lights glowed in its windows, a promise of warmth and shelter. If she could make it. If it was the right place.

Derugonia reluctantly released her cloak to withdraw a folded piece of parchment from her satchel. Fighting the wind, she unfolded it to read it once more, checking the directions to be sure this was the estate it detailed. At this point it didn’t matter, because she was going to freeze to death if she didn’t find shelter soon.

So far, Mardiana was cold and miserable, but a change had been necessary. She’d resided with a merchant as his mistress for some time, but when he’d begun to grow suspicious of her, she had decided it would be safer to leave sooner than risk his speculation coming to something far more dangerous. A scandalous letter to the merchant and one of her close confidantes relating a tryst and elopement with an imaginary rogue had put them on a false trail and the alp had slipped away -- in the opposite direction.

Derugonia had taken to the road once again. In spite of common rumors and hearsay, alps were not very hardy creatures. She was not a beast who could live naked in the wilderness. She required shelter, warmth, and even creature comforts from time to time. Her lips chapped and her cheeks burned from the wind. Her feet hurt from the miles she’d walked over weeks and she shook from the bone-deep cold.

Frankly, she needed somewhere safe to hide and hunt for a while, and Mardania was a faroff, distant land she’d never visited before. The protection of a knight would be to her benefit -- was far better than anything else she had seen in almost two months of travelling. If all she had to do to earn that shelter was work the land and prepare it for spring planting instead of sleeping with fat or old merchants and nobles, then she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Putting the parchment back in her pocket and struggling against the wind to close her cloak once again, she made her way toward the castle. The alp was no doubt a strange sight to behold walking up to the castle after dark. Her clothes were well made but equally well worn. Her black trousers were threadbare in the knees and her soft leather boots were stained and scuffed. Glimpses of a black and gold brocade doublet peeked out from behind her black woolen cloak. Her pale amaranth tresses whipped loosely about her face, springing free from a thick scarf that was wrapped tightly around her head and neck, covering her face so that only her eyes were exposed. She carried only a small satchel under her cloak, containing the few items she owned that were worth taking with her.

Every article of clothing was currently wet from the relentless snow. No part of her ensemble appeared as though it was meant for any serious work or travel, let alone a march through a blizzard. Much to her current suffering, she was dressed like a highborn lady out for a leisurely ride.

The winter gale was harsher across the open fields and she fought with high steps to trudge through the knee-deep snow. Her path meandered, pushed by the wind and fatigued by the difficult trek. Her labored breaths escaped in white puffs of mists that were swiftly taken on the wind and crystals frosted to her scarf and lashes. The longer she walked, the more convinced she was that the snow was getting worse.

But she could see a light ahead. She was more than halfway there. What was a little further? Derugonia held fast to her resolve and, picking up one foot after the other, continued onward.

 

[Llewen Merrick]

One of Llewen's new retainers, a hunter and scout by the name of Grimmsby, burst into the main hall, his cloak covered with snow but his countenance undisturbed despite the vicious weather outside. Llewen was entertaining a few of his new men at arms for the time being, a blessing considering he'd previously had nothing. If he'd known a simple flyer promising food and board could get so much work done, he'd have done it a long time ago.

Grimmsby was efficient and stern. He was Llewen's favorite hunter for this reason.

"My lord, someone's fool enough to brave the storm to come here. Looks like a noble lady. What should we do?"

A noble lady? Llewen thought. In this weather? Is it Her Highness, the Lady Kyxo? No, surely not... this must be someone else.

"Landis, prepare my horse. She needs our help."

Llewen's man went to the stable while Llewen gathered the winter coats he'd been able to purchase thanks to some of the money his retainers had bought him. It was a small comfort knowing that his father Gawain's name had carried enough weight to attract a few men who actually had resources and could fight in the name of House Merrick. It made Llewen feel like a real Lord, at the very least.

At last he'd donned proper winter gear. A blizzard still wasn't an appealing prospect but Llewen was still foolhardy enough to try it--he needed to make a name for himself and he wasn't going to do that by playing it safe. The story of him rescuing someone from the snow itself would be a huge boost to his notoriety, especially if it were a local noblewoman.

His trusty Palfrey, Rosemary, was waiting for him in the castle courtyard with a large blanket on her back above the saddle for warmth. Covering most of his body in thick fur winter clothing, Llewen rode out with Landis, seeking the woman Grimmsby had spoken of. Eventually, he'd ridden up the road enough that he could just make out the lone figure of this new stranger.

He didn't wait to ask questions; he could tell this person barely had enough clothing for the regular temperatures of Mardania, let alone a blizzard, so he quickly dismounted and ran up to her, practically yelling so she could hear him above the sound of the winter storm.

"I know not if you seek Castle Merrick, but at least allow me to grant you shelter from this storm!" He bellowed, pointing back towards the Castle, which was only very faintly in view. "I'll help you onto my horse, just come with me!"

He motioned for her to come with him, and if she did so, he'd take her back swiftly to the castle. It was perhaps foolish to accept a stranger in such times as these, but it was a risk he was willing to take--for his station as Lord of House Merrick and the knightly vows he had never gotten the chance to take.

 

[Taayi]

A wounded stag ran through the snow-covered forest. It breathed heavily as it left a trail of blood. Something pursued it. Not at a sprint, but just enough to always be within earshot to the buck.

To the deer, it may have seemed to be hours. But eventually, it collapsed in exhaustion and extreme pain. The last thing to reflect in its eyes was the moon-lit silhouette of its pursuer.

Within the land granted under Merrick’s charge, an uninvited pest hunted.

 

[Derugonia]

Telling herself that every step was one closer to a warm, glowing hearth, Derugonia kept going. When she caught sight of the blanketed horse and rider, she nearly sat down in the snow in relief. Without knowing whether or not it was someone coming to her aid, however, she pushed onward.

By the time she came near enough to more clearly make out more of the fur-lined form, he was also dismounting. He called out over the wind, and Derugonia laughed.

“I am seeking Castle Merrick!” she answered, her fair voice straining against the wind in her face. She trudged through the snow toward him, reaching out to take his hand when she came near enough.

Derugonia made no complaints about taking his aid. Especially with the horse, as she had never ridden one. She had a moment to be grateful that the storm was affording her a level of anonymity with the beast; horses never responded well to the scent of a predator.

“Thank you, sir,” she said through the scarf and still fighting with the howling storm. “You’re a godsend. I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it,” she laughed. And that wasn’t much of a lie.

When she was seated on the palfrey and he climbed up in front of her she made no qualms about leaning against his back to sheild herself against the wind and snow, her shoulder gently pressed against him. As they rode, she leaned in more, the toll of her long, tiresome walk finally starting to sink in.

With her face huddled against his shoulder, she was enveloped in the musty scent of his fur coats. They were cloaked with the sooty aroma of a hearth and the bouquet of cooked game and dried herbs. Beneath that was the tangy scent of sweat, and the alp could tell from that alone that he was a young human male. Interesting. Was this one of Lord Merrick’s young retainers? Or someone like her who had answered the notice?

Only one way to find out, and all she had to do for once was be carried inside. Derugonia sighed, closed her eyes, and rested against the young man for support.

 

[Llewen Merrick]

As the stranger began to get close to the horse, Llewen's retainer Landis called out to them:

"My Lord, she'll be weak with the storm and we need to get back to the castle with haste!" Landis hopped off his palfrey, moving over to Llewen's horse Rosemary, and worked with Llewen to lift the stranger onto the blanketed horse. Llewen then jumped up to the front of the saddle, as Landis efficiently returned to his own horse.

"Hang on tightly, milady! The winds can knock a horse down at times!" Llewen shouted, his voice perhaps barely audible above the howling winds.

“You’re a godsend. I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it,”

Llewen was focused on the road ahead in the blinding snow, barely able to see more than a few feet in front of them now, Landis' shape being only a thin outline.

"The winter is unkind to unwelcome guests. Ride with me to the castle, and I will share my fire with you." He could feel her starting to weaken, and leaned into her leaning to provide her extra support. "Hang on, hang on!" he shouted, worried she might expire from the sheer cold. "Take my coat if you can! Hyah!" His palfrey moved faster now, fighting like a horse possessed against the bitter wind.

In time, in a flight that seemed it would never end, they finally came upon the courtyard of Castle Merrick again. Landis was quick to dismount, offering his aid again.

"Take the lady, Lord Merrick, I'll see to the horses!" he shouted. Llewen did as he was told, and, figuring she might be too weak now, picked up the stranger from Rosemary and rushed to carry her inside, using a combination of his finger and shoulder to urge the doors to the castle open, where he at last ran into the Great Hall, rushing her to the fireplace as quickly as he could. Along the way, since he was carrying her, Llewen caught a glimpse of her face, and momentarily was mesmerized by her alluring features, which he hadn't seen in the storm.

"Lord Merrick!" some of his retainers called out, as he rushed by them, past the dining table to get to the other side, where the fireplace was located.

Please be alive, he thought, still carrying her when he sat in front of the fire, cradling her in his arms as the warmth of the fire began to melt the piled snow off their clothing, and the heat radiating from the fire felt like the heat of the blessed midday sun itself. He looked into her eyes, unaware of what he might see when he did so.

 

[Derugonia]

There was a certain art to playing the fair damsel, and Derugonia had perfected it over centuries. When one preyed upon and hunted within civilization, one learned the importance of a safety net and the necessity of one’s public perception. It was also easier to deceive someone based on a fraction of the truth than on a complete falsehood.

So when the gentlemen lifted her up onto the horse, she did not protest. When the rider bid her to hang on and rest, she did not protest. And when they arrived in the courtyard and the same valiant rider pulled her down from his palfrey to carry her through the snow and into the warm hall, she once again made no protest.

Mostly because she had been listening, and if what she heard was true, then she was already starting this visit in very good favor.

It was in the close proximity of Lord Merrick’s arms that she activated one of her charms. The pendant’s power was brief, only having a few hours of glamour before needing to be recharged by the light of the moon, but in the absence of her hat it would have to do. The scarf had come loose on their journey to the hearth, exposing a peek of her glamoured features. The face she chose was her own from the nose up. It was only her mouth and cheeks that she had replaced with those of a mortal woman’s, with a deception.

Her eyes opened slowly, blinking away the frost that still clung to her pale lashes. Derugonia’s gaze was the color of magnolia blossoms, a dark, rich pink around her pupils and along the ring of her iris that yielded to a softer blush in the valley between. Her charms had no power over the mind the way fae glamours did, but there was something alluring about an alp’s gaze.

For that reason, she just as quickly closed her eyes to rest. Derugonia wasn't here to seduce him, but to work honestly. She smiled and gave a faint huff of laughter.

“Take heart, my lord. I might have thought by your expression that I was dead,” she mumbled through the edge of the scarf, then gave a mighty tremble. “I don’t suppose that you’re the Lord of this castle, and that you might grant me an audience in regards to your notice?”

She looked amused for a woman who was half asleep. Her eyes opened faintly once again to gauge his response, hoping that he was half as entertained as she was.

 

[Llewen Merrick]

Being young and uninitiated, Llewen was practically enchanted as he looked into the lady's eyes, his cheeks flushing slightly. Whispers echoed throughout the hall among Llewen's retainers, as Landis made his way back into the great hall, arriving just as Llewen had looked at this woman for a moment too long without saying anything, and couldn't repress a smile as she very faintly laughed.

"Landis, bid the men to their holdings; the lady must be tired, I will see personally to her recovery."

"As you wish, my lord." Landis began telling Llewen's retainers the news, and the men slowly started dissipating from the hall, many taking food with them as they went.

Llewen sighed, then looked to her again, this time a bit more focused. "I must apologize that Castle Merrick is in such a state; alas that Mardania is not welcoming to the uninvited. I am Llewen Merrick, the last of my house, and son to the great knight Gawain Merrick. Would that we could have met under fairer circumstances!"

He then remembered her statement fully, and chuckled. "You must be desperate indeed if you've come to me seeking refuge in a storm like this. I will of course accept your audience, but only once you've rested. Would you like some stew, milady, after you've had a moment's rest? I'll have Landis fetch it once he returns, if you'd like."

He wasn't entertained per se, but he was focused on her, peering over some the details of her face again as he continued to cradle her, hoping the warmth of the fire might ensure her recovery. He knew that the bitter cold was harsh on people, especially those who were as exposed as this woman was, and just because she was fine now didn't mean she might not take ill in the night; he'd seen it happen before with some of his subjects, one time fatally. He then asked a question in kind:

"You need not answer now, but whom do I have the honor of providing sanctuary to this evening?"

 

[Derugonia]

Derugonia hummed in some idle response that might have been agreement or argument, but passed no remarks on his castle. He'd advertised for help restoring it; this room alone was already exceeding expectations.

She laughed, a sound not as refined and delicate as those of courtly ladies, but a coarse huff and snicker. This would be how she made her first impressions. Yet once again, she was too tired to offer back a witty quip about the weather.

On his other remarks, however, she could not remain quietly amused.

"Thank you, my lord. You are very kind. I am Derugonia of Taft. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She smiled prettily, then began to wiggle. Though she surmised herself a commoner, she still carried herself with more noble airs. "Thank you for your valiant aid, sir. I believe I can sit up by myself now. I should not wish to insult the Lady of your house."

Her fingers and toes felt like they were burning in the warmth of the fire, but the lethargy in her limbs was easing. She sat up whether or not he was of a mind to it, establishing right away that, while he was the lord and master of this house, she had a mind of her own. Derugonia did not, however, venture away from the fire and sat back down heavily. She was well aware of her limits; if she passed out, she risked losing her glamour. A danger to more than her chance at a job, but also to her safety and well-being.

 

[Llewen Merrick]

Llewen was quite taken with her laughter; it was a laughter he was more familiar with, being that he spent more time around common folk than the upper courts, his mother being the only real proper noblewoman he'd ever known. During her introduction, Llewen's steward Landis returned from shooing away the rest of Llewen's retainers, catching the last bit of what Derugonia was saying.

"Sadly, good lady, House Merrick has no Lady to speak of. Lord Llewen is the only man of this castle, and the only one who bears the title of Merrick."

One might think Llewen would be offended at his steward speaking so forwardly, but Llewen was relieved that he didn't have to be the one explaining the other most dire part of his estate: the emptiness of his household. He'd wished he and Landis could have met better, and under better circumstances themselves, as Landis served Llewen in honor of his friendship with Llewen's father, Gawain. But Landis had lost everything due to a plot involving a fabricated claim on his land, which was then attacked by 3 other houses and torched, his entire house being killed except for Landis himself, who bore a large scar on his face as a constant reminder.

Llewen allowed Derugonia to sit up, sensing she was herself again. She had a stronger will than any woman he'd ever met, or so he thought: it's not like he'd met that many women after all, being a young man.

"Thank you, Landis," Llewen said. "What he speaks is true. Lady Derugonia, my estate is in dire need of any help it can find. Would that I were a true knight of virtue, and rescued you of the compassion in my heart and not the need of my estate." He paused. "Landis, could you fetch some stew for the good lady?" Landis obeyed the command, heading into the kitchen. Llewen and Derugonia were alone.

"If milady needs a proper chair or any other comfort, your wish is my command. I will grant the audience you seek regarding my notice. House Merrick needs people capable of working the land. We need to clear large sections of forest and grow crops to sell rapidly and with little disruption. We have very little wealth to work with, our only abundant resource being the stored grains and other foodstuffs we have accumulated from years of growing subsistence crops. But we will accept any work so long as it is helpful to our cause, and milady will have a home here in House Merrick so long as she contributes to my cause. As my subject, you will have rights to the lands you work, just as I bear the charge of your protection and well-being. Tell me, Derugonia of Taft, what can you do for House Merrick?"

His tone was less naive, and surprisingly calm and professional for one his age. Llewen had recently cast aside the pretense of his youthful insecurity. He knew that the only way he could ever rebuild his house was by being decisive and willing to take risks. He wondered what risks Derugonia brought with her.

 

[Derugonia]

No lady of the house? "My apologies, my lord." She lowered her eyes, a vision of etiquette and penitence. Good work, Derugonia. Shove your foot in your mouth a bit deeper. She looked up again when Llewen addressed her.

“Oh, no. Thank you. My standards at present are very low and this seat is a godsend,” she laughed.

Feeling invigorated by the fire’s warmth, she unwound the damp scarf from around her head. Her hair was also damp as the snow and ice melted. Unbound and the color of almond tree blossoms, it hung above her shoulders in a short style, and her bangs had been similarly cut across her brow. She arranged it as he spoke, pushing it behind one of her pointed ears and, with her hands folded neatly in her lap, gave him her full, undivided attention.

She had learned a while ago that presenting as an elf could sometimes alter a human’s perception of her. It was not a part of her that she had ever wasted time trying to glamour, and found that people who cared about such things were not worth her time anyway.

Not that several of the people she had spent the last five years with had been worth her time.

Derugonia nodded as she listened. It sounded like hard work, and not the kind that would have a guaranteed return in the end. This very young man was facing a very challenging future. He seemed competent and spoke well. That was more than most men his age.

“Ah, well…” The alp paused only briefly. “I have experience with working on farms. I know how to prepare land, how to plant and tend to crops, and how to harvest and store them. I am most familiar with grasses -- grains and cereals -- but I am also well versed in garden produce. What I don't know, I can learn. I’m not afraid of hard work, and I do not require much to keep me. I cannot offer you references to my character or work experience, but I hope that I can prove my worth to you and your household. What is the word of a stranger compared to the work of my own hands?”

She smiled pleasantly. It was a simple offer of trust, and one she suspected she needn’t fear the refusal of. If they were as desperate as they sounded, then even doubts based on her delicate appearance would be nothing.

 

[Llewen Merrick]

Llewen took notice of Derugonia's prominent ears after she let her short hair down; they didn't have many visitors here that weren't human. It added more to her mystical appearance, and Llewen also saw potential advantage in an elf--after all, they were usually magically inclined or themselves magical, were they not? He'd never met one, only heard legends. He listened intently as she described her skillset, impressed that she seemed to not only have the skill but also the mindset he was seeking. It seemed almost too good to be true. Landis seemed to eye her with particular suspicion when she revealed her more natural guise.

"Your word is the only bond you need for House Merrick during these troubled times," he said. "I do not know that an Elf such as yourself has ever graced these halls, but we are humbled to offer you refuge against such inclement weather. As for your offer, it sounds as though you may be exactly what we need; someone skilled in growing a variety of foods that we may bring to market. House Merrick gladly accepts someone with such particularly useful talents for our situation. We clear roughly two and a half acres of land every week, and as you bring no family with you, I expect your role shall be that of planting new fields and overseeing fields in disrepair, if your expertise is as good as you say. If you are not too weak from the weather, you may begin as soon as tomorrow. I will show you the new fields as well as our seed stores, and introduce you to some of the families we have already--perhaps they may learn from you, should you find the time to teach them."

Perhaps she didn't quite have the look of a farmer, but as an elf Llewen figured she might possess magic or knowledge otherwise that would prove vital to their efforts of reclaiming the land. If that were the case, running into Derugonia would be a real godsend, and one lucky break that they desperately needed. If not, well... Llewen didn't have the luxury of caution. One bad interaction could end all of his best efforts. But so far he had been lucky, and he prayed for that luck to continue.

He looked into her features for perhaps a moment too long as he awaited her reply; to him she was quite enchanting, elf or not. She reminded him of Princess Helia, almost otherworldly in appearance, both frightful and beautiful, with a hint of magic surrounding her countenance.

 

[Derugonia]

Well that was easy. She shook her head, reinforcing that she had no family. Not one with her, at least, and certainly one that was never going to be coming here. Regarding her ability to work tomorrow, she nodded curtly.

"I require only an evening’s rest, my lord, and then my skills are yours. I will not disappoint you. I promise that I will be a worthwhile investment.”

Derugonia smiled sweetly. A genuine relief washed over her and took the tension out of her shoulders. It seemed that she had not arrived too late, but perfectly. She had not ever thought of her practical skills as ones in high demand. Perhaps she had wasted years on her back that she could have spent in the employ of honest men.

"Now if it is not an inconvenience, I will take that stew and retire. You and your men must also be weary after coming to my rescue.” She really was quite tired and they were all regarding her with a bit too much scrutiny. If any one person in this castle had a single drop of fae ancestry and had been gifted with their legendary Sight, her disguise would be only a thin veil. That was trouble she didn’t need. This was a nice place and she wanted to stay.

 

[Llewen Merrick]

Llewen merely nodded in response. Her smile was almost bewitching, and he found that he lost his composure for a moment at her more inviting features. She was at once a great beauty, yet an oddity in Castle Merrick. Yet Llewen was young, and didn't know any better; he let Landis' experience shine through in moments like this when things were more uncertain. He was far from foolish, but his determination and competence often belied his inexperience.

"Very well," he said, at last. "Alas that such weather was uncommon here, but winters here in Mardania are unkind to those who do not prepare for them. I am fine; you were not too far from the castle, and we were prepared for a shorter venture. How milady survived such a blizzard... well, tis a miracle, if I may be so bold to suggest. It must be because you're an elf, for I know no man who could have survived otherwise and be ready to work again the next day. On the morrow I will show you around; for now, Landis will find you some stew and a bed. For now you will reside in the castle, but someday I hope you shall have your own private home somewhere closer to the fields. You may take your leave when you wish; let us hope tomorrow is as fortunate as today."

Maybe it was luck, or maybe it was just because she entranced him so with her features, but Llewen was hopeful about her and what she might mean for his estate. When he went to bed that night, he felt like he had something to really smile about, at last.