Streamwood Settlement
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Nestled in a sheltered clearing of the deep woods of Coghill is the Streamwood settlement, named for the small stream running through the middle of the settlement. A stone retaining wall has been constructed along the stream’s course for safety. Babbling quietly, the stream trips merrily over the stone bed as it winds further south. Every so often a glimmer of light reflects off a passing fish. Over the water in several locations are low, wide bridges, perfect for passage or fishing. Water lilies as well as wildflowers growing along the streambed perfume the air with their aroma.
Small wooden cottages peek out from the tree line, constructed from the sturdy lumber the woods provide. Some cottages have small flower or vegetable gardens out front. Others have small wooden or stone figures decorating the yard, a nod to their resident’s occupation. There are two fire pits, one on either side of the stream for communal use. The atmosphere is serene and welcoming, perfect for raising a small family or starting a new career.
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You can go: Manor Road <N>, Lorcan <1>, Saeryn <2>, Warner <3>, Ald <4>, Aderyn <5>, Chosette <6>, Damala <7>, Lora <8>, Celia <9>, Bo <10>, Renand <11>, Rafe <12>, Merek <13>, Ames <14>, Delilah <15>, Lassivia <16>
Contents: A daughter of eve with dark brown hair (Saeryn); A daughter of eve with mid-back length hair (Dalia); A son of adam with ocean blue eyes (Merek); Firepit <LIT>; Larder Basket; and OOC Sign.
Saeryn looks back towards the settlement and sees Merek coming towards her. For a moment, her eyes widen and her hands tighten.
Merek continues walking towards her, raising his brow a bit at her. “Hail Saeryn!”
Lorcan strides into the Settlement from the road to the Guild, looking work-worn as usual.
Saeryn swallows faintly and forces a smile as she relaxes her hands. “Good eve, Merek,” she says, voice quiet and rather weak. “How are you?”
Merek tilts his head slightly, still smiling brightly. “I am well! ” he eyes her a moment. “And you?”
Lorcan slows his pace as he sees the pair, not quite reaching them yet.
Saeryn can’t quite bring herself to look him in the eye as she responds with the same soft tone, “I am quite well.” Her fingers play with the side of her dress and she glances back at him. “How is your work?”
Merek’s brow furrows a bit. “Well enough… somewhat slow these days though.” he returns slowly. “You are quite sure Saeryn?”
Lorcan just then comes abreast of them, interrupting in his usual quiet way. “G’d evenin’,” he tells them both with a faint smile.
Saeryn’s mouth tightens in the moment before Lorcan greets them. When she hears his voice, a moment of near-panic flashes through her eyes, and she darts a quick glance around the settlement before swallowing again and responding, “Good eve, Lorcan.”
Merek blinks as Lorcan greets them. Looking to him he smiles, nodding. “Good eve.”
Lorcan rubs the back of his neck, under his ponytail. “Ahh…” he says, catching this whole gambit of emotion from Saeryn. “Pray, don’t let me interrupt anything. I’m just on my way home for the night.” He sends a nod in the direction of his cottage and his feet start moving forward again automatically. As he goes, he shoots another concerned look at Saeryn and gives her what is meant to be a kind, reassuring sort of smile. Then he keeps walking.
Saeryn winces slightly and takes a step forwards. “Oh no, you aren’t interrupting anything…”
Merek shoots a glance a Saeryn before nodding at her statement. “She is correct… you aren’t interrupting a thing.”
Lorcan stops a few steps away. “No?” He asks, turning back, one dark eyebrow angling up sharply. He spares a quick glance to Merek before turning his gaze to study Saeryn. “I thought…” he shakes his head and comes back. “I trust you’re both well?” He starts again.
Dalia enters the settlement with several girls who are all talking and laughing. They all seem to best of friends and one girl has even linked her arm with Dalia. One closer inspection though one might tell that it is /the girls/ that have Dalia. The linked arm is really more of a bother trying to carry her basket of goods from the market.
Saeryn nods and responds “Quite well,” in he same, completely unconvincing tone as before. “And you?” She glances over as others come into view and unconsciously takes a small step back.
Merek watches Saeryn quietly, eyebrow raised and head turning at the sound of the group coming towards the settlement.
Lorcan studies Saeryn with a slightly furrowed brow, his gaze raising to take in his cousin. He smiles faintly at the sight, and then Saeryn’s step back seems to raise some alarm in him. He looks more closely at the girls and steps closer to Saeryn’s side in an unconscious gesture.
Too soon the little gaggle of girls spot the group talking, and begin whispering and giggling and whispering some more. One of the girls seems to be whispering in Dalia’s ear. Perhaps asking her something. Dalia shakes her head and makes her excuses, untangling herself. They busy bees move continue onto their houses, smiles and waving at Dalia. Giggling as they move away.
Saeryn watches the group of girls closely, gaze flicking towards Dalia and biting her lip. Unaware of Lorcan’s step, she ducks her head, hands clenched tightly together in front of her.
Merek watches the Lorcan and Saeryn, brow furrowing, but he remains unmoved.
Lorcan’s brows draw steeply downwards, his attention now entirely devoted to looking between the group of girls and Saeryn herself, seemingly forgetting Merek. He touches Saeryn’s elbow softly and in what seems like a protective manner. Then his attention turns fully to Dalia. “Cousin,” he greets her. There is a question and a note of disapproval in his voice.
Dalia moves towards the group looking a bit weary herself and nods to her cousin before sighing. “Oh goodness. Those girls attached themselves to me as I was leaving the market. Phew.”
Saeryn swallows again and looks up, offering a hesitant smile. “It seems to be a favorite activity of theirs…”
Merek blinks as he watches Lorcan, frowning slightly. He takes a breath, remaining silent.
Lorcan’s look is grim, and there’s something to the set of his jaw that doesn’t bode well, despite Dalia’s making light of the matter. “Too much market place gossip, eh Dalia?” he asks somewhat tightly, referring to their conversation the other day. He swallows and his stance widens. The set of his shoulders loosens at Saeryn’s attempted smile, but only just.
Dalia puts her (now free) hand on Saeryn’s shoulder comfortingly. “They got nothing out of me though. I wouldn’t ever anyway. Guess… they feel like I’m part of the town now.” She shakes her head. “To think that just because….” she trails off shaking her head.
Saeryn relaxes slightly at Dalia’s touch, taking a deep breath.
Merek swallows, fidgeting as he walks a bit past them. “If you will all excuse me… I must get some rest for the night. ” he offers, growing a light shade of red.
Lorcan runs his hand through his hair and relaxes further at this last bit, only to eye Merek with some confusion a moment later. His face draws concerned again. “Merek…” he says, taking a step after the other man.
Dalia looks concernedly after her cousin and Merek when he makes his excuses to leave.
Saeryn bites her lip and looks down to the ground as Merek makes his excuses. In a near whisper, she says to Dalia, “I must be going, I’m afraid. Have a good evening.”
Dalia puts her arms around Saeryn and gives her a hug.
Dalia says, “Take care of yourself”
Saeryn returns the hug and nods before turning and almost, but not quite, fleeing into the haven of her cottage.
Saeryn enters Saeryn’s cottage.
Merek looks back at the sound of his name, catching Saeryn head off. “Yes?” he looks back to Lorcan.
Lorcan watches Saeryn go and lets out a grunt (which, honestly, has more of the sound of a growl, though not aimed at her). He rubs his chin and grinds out, “I need a drink. Want to come?”
Dalia sighs walking over to the porch to set the basket down and returning. “Cousin…”
Merek nods to Lorcan, shooting a glance at Dalia. ” Sure… ” he replies hesitantly.
Lorcan gives a nod to Merek in return. He eyes Dalia a bit warily, “Yeah…?”
Dalia gives him a look that begs him to understand, that begs him to believe her innocence in the matter.
Lorcan sighs and gives her his small smile. “I know,” he murmurs quietly, that being his answer to her unspoken plea.
Merek comes up next to Lorcan, watching the exchange quietly.
Dalia smiles a tiny smile again. “Well I’d better get these groceries inside lest Aunt think I got lost.”
Lorcan nods. “Okay. Tell her I said hi, will you. And don’t mention the drinking.” He turns to Merek. “My place or the tavern, Merek?”
Dalia nods with a bit of a smile. “Of course not.”
Merek shrugs. “It is up to you…” he returns, looking between them.
Lorcan bids Dalia good night and waves a hand at his own cottage, in that case. He starts off.
Dalia makes her way back to the porch and gathers up the groceries, before heading inside.
Merek follows him over towards his cottage.
Lorcan’s Quarters [Streamwood Settlement](#17384R)
The cottage you’ve entered is obviously the home of a bachelor. A pair of windows, one on either side of the front door, allow in ample light, which glints off the solid wood of the floor. On the right wall is a large fireplace and chimney made of grey stone. The hearth is nearly filled with ash and seems to see quite a bit of use. Beside it sits a haphazard pile of wood and a poker. Under the window to the right sits a sturdy wood table with only two chairs. One end of the table seems dedicated to housing a chisel, hammer, and various other tools of its residents trade, as well occasional small projects of stone brought home from work. In the far corner, to the left, is a bed made of oak, its covers often askew. At the foot of the bed is a large trunk for storage, and along the floor is a rather tattered rug that you presume was once primarily blue.
You can go: Out <O>
Contents: Large Storage Trunk.
Merek enters from the outside.
Lorcan slips inside his cottage and immediately pulls a pair of stone tumblers from the cabinet near the fire. Opening another cupboard, he pulls out a large flagon of that strong ale he seems so fond of. He pours some into both glasses, sweeps a few chisels to the far end of the table, and plunks into a chair, pushing the other glass in Merek’s general direction.
Merek steps inside the house, taking it in and admiring it. Blinking as he is offered the drink, he takes it and sits across from Lorcan. After taking a hearty swig, he closes his eyes and takes a breath, eyeing hiim a moment.
Lorcan takes his own tumbler and tosses it back in one gulp. He closes his eyes and exhales. When he opens them again to find Merek watching him, he raises both brows at him and goes about pouring himself another.
Merek downs the rest of his drink, letting his tumbler down and setting it on the table a moment after. “How are things Lorcan?” he asks, fingering he rim of his cup.
Lorcan drains about half of the next glass and rubs a hand across the back of his mouth. “Fine,” he says. “Or they were anyways. You?”
Merek stretches, flexing absently as he does so. “Were?” he questions.
Lorcan sighs and his hand tightens around the glass. “It’s not important,” he says quietly after a moment’s pause. He pushes the flagon closer to the middle of the table so Merek can refill his own at his leisure.
Merek watches him and lets out a soft ‘heh’ as he reaches for the flagon and pours himself another glass. “I find that hard to believe.”
Lorcan dodges the question and takes a swig. “/You/ didn’t answer my question. You didn’t necessarily seem at ease yourself.”
Merek shrugs half-heartedly “I am fine… just a bit tired.” He takes a sip from his glass. “Now dont dodge my question…”
Lorcan heaves a sigh and splays a hand along the weathered surface of his table. “Do you really want to know?”
Merek raises a brow slightly, but nods.
Lorcan frowns and tips his glass towards him thoughtfully. “My mother,” he starts. “Is an old busybody. But she’s harmless, really. And she’s all I have. But I am not one to…tolerate…idle gossip,” his hand tightens around the tumbler involuntarily. “It gratifies none but the gossiper and often causes more harm than good. It -” he expels a breath. “Well.” He shrugs.
Merek nods slowly as he listens, tipping his glass back as he drinks nearly half of it in one swig. He remains quiet, for now.
Lorcan finishes the rest of his own and much of the next glass before he says anything else. “Those who are of a – easily unnerved nature, I think, are particularly susceptible to harm by frivolous chatter. And /that/ irks me even more to see them…see anyone…put under the mercy of callous hearsay.”
Merek nods at this. “Understandable… and agreed. ” he pauses ” Any such hearsay surfaced recently?”
Lorcan sighs. “Something. I’m not convinced of what it is. But something unnerved Saeryn and my cousin.”
Merek lets out a soft ‘ah’. “Well… I understand your concern then… seeing as Saeryn doesnt take well to… ” he pauses “too much attention.”
Lorcan drinks. “Yeah.” He says simply.
Merek finishes the rest of his glass, eyeing it absently and growing silent.
Lorcan does the same. He leans back in his chair and his eyes fall across the table and over to Merek.
Merek meets his gaze, raising his brow slightly, but saying nothing.
Lorcan eyes the flagon temptedly before saying, “As I said. Not that important.”
Merek hehs “So you say… but your countenance tells another story.”
Lorcan frowns slightly. He studies the tabletop intently and the frown deepens as he gets lost in thought.
Merek tips his glass towards him. “As I said. ” he adds quietly.
Lorcan hehs and pours himself another drink. There is something changed behind his face as he drinks, rather bothered and also surprised. He sips more slowly this time than he is usually want to, and a finger comes up to tap the side of his bearded chin. “Do you care about her?” he asks suddenly.
Merek doesn’t move, not looking the least bit surprised. “I do…”
You ask, “Why?”
Merek says, “She has a kind heart, rather large at that…is hard working, but fragile.”
Lorcan nods slowly. “Tis true…so very different from…” He cuts of his musing before he allows himself to say who she is different from.
Merek lets his eyes drift to his glass before responding. “Celia I presume?”
Lorcan scoffs. “Celia!” He laughs, quite surprised by that. “Yes, she’s quite from Celia.” Shaking his head, he chuckles slightly and tips the glass towards his mouth. “That girl…” he shakes his head a bit more.
Merek chuckles softly, watching him. “Indeed. ” he pauses. “Answer me this…”
Lorcan glances up at him. “Yes?”
Merek lets out a breath “Is there something between you and Saeryn?”
Lorcan exhales. He sets the cup down and looks the other man in the eye. “That depends on what you mean by “something.” There was an…insinuation…by Celia no less…that there was. But it wasn’t true then and we made that clear. I told her,” he pauses. “I told her that if I wished to court her she would know.”
Merek watches him. “Do you?”
Lorcan pauses, and he wets his lips with his tongue before answering bluntly, “I do.” He looks away, over to his carefully crafted fireplace and around the small but tightly built cottage before he adds, “But I will not rush her. It has been long since I have – thought this way – about a woman, and things will move at her pace, not mine.”
Merek leans forward, clasping the glass in both hands, his arms resting on the table. He looks down, nodding as he speaks. “What am I then?” he returns as he finishes.
Lorcan frowns just slightly before he says sincerely, “You. Are a colleague and a friend. And apparently a rival as well.” He smiles wanly.
Merek looks around the cottage thoughtfully. “Lorcan. A rival… I shall not be.” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I care about Saeryn, I do… I would be a liar to say otherwise. The thought of courting her is a pleasant one in my mind as well. Though, you have known her longer than I and are probably better suited. My feelings for Saeryn stand as such and I /will/ continue to build my friendship with her. Though, in this case… I shall make no other moves.”
Lorcan exhales and studies Merek as he speak. He too waits before he answers. “I do not claim to have any claim over her or her affections, Merek. And as for her happiness, it is for her to decide. I will keep things to her pace, as I said, and were she to choose you over me I would not stand in the way. I have kept others from whom they want to be with and it ends with some party being miserable. I will not repeat that mistake. Therefore…” he hesitates as if this costs him slightly, “You do not need to give up any pursuit of her for me. She will choose whom she chooses, and it may not even be either of us.”
Merek nods as he finishes. “Well put friend. ” he slowly rises, hehing softly. “I do not want to lose a friendship on account of any of this. ” he extends his hand to him. “Whatever happens… know that you have mine.” He offers wearily.
Lorcan offers perhaps the first full smile of the evening as he too stands. He clasps the offered hand warmly and firmly. “And you have mine, Merek,” he returns.
Merek grins at this. “Well, I thanks you for your hospitality. Your company is enjoyed. ” he yawns. “But I fear I must get some rest as the dawn comes swiftly.”
Lorcan nods. “A wise idea,” he says. “I should do the same. But you’re welcome to my hospitality any time.”
Merek nods to him. “Fare well Lorcan, until tomorrow,” He offers before heading out the front door.
You say, “Good night, Merek.”
