Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Lantern Wood Fatnasy Village RP

Vincent grunts as he unloads the boxes of goods that came in this morning, it was mostly just essentials from the capital; Dried meats, farming tools, carpentry tools. Among other things. Vincent had only been a resident of the Village, known locally as Lantern Wood, for about half a year he'd gotten to know some other people in the Village but had chosen to live in the Villages Namesake, the Lantern Wood, hunting beasts that'd occansially wander too close to the village. Overall it was a peaceful life that Vincent didn't mind too much.

After unloading the merchants goods and inspecting them he went on his way to patroling the nearby residential area of the village.

Sage wandered around this small little village. She made her way over to the general goods store and bought a few items and put them in her basket, which she held on the inside of her elbow. She hated waking up in the morning and going to work at the nearby inn. She walked inside and smiled softly at her boss before wiping it off of her face and put the basket on the bar. "Here you are Danny, you're usual morning order." She said with a sigh.

"Thanks Sage, I owe you." He said and paid her back what she'd spent. Sage nodded and began getting to work, her hair was thick and curly, so she couldn't put it up in a ponytail, even if she tried, so she just put of her waitress apron. She was in charge of the cafe part of the inn, though her boss made sure she didn't rip anyone off, which she'd done in the past, once, by accident.

Reynall stood behind the bakery, hair clinging to his forehead, cutting wood for the ovens that were inside. He had always hated cutting wood, even when he was a child helping his mother run her inn but he owed it to the man who allowed him to stay in a guest room in exchange for his labor. He had only recently found himself in Lantern Wood and after staying on a ship for a few months he thought the village would be a nice place to stay for a while.
Reynall wiped his brow thinking he had cut enough wood for at least a few hours and headed inside to change. He waved good morning to the older man at the counter as he went upstairs and returned with an apron. Tying his hair up with a leather cord, he went to the back of the shop and started to prepare dough humming songs he learned while on the merchant's ship.

Wolfe and Wylie got up at dawn to let their family's flock of sheep out into the field. From then on, they sat on the grass, watching them, to make sure none wandered into the woods or under a carriage.
Wylie was, as usual, bored, so he soon made up the excuse that he was hungry- which wasn't untrue. His older brother knew it was just to get him out of sheep-watching duty, but he didn't mind too much: how much trouble could someone get into while buying bread, after all? At least he'd get his share as payment for covering Wylie's watch.

So, off skipped Wylie, with a few coppers in his pocket, headed into the village to waste some time.
On his way, he came across a town guardsman with a very distinctive helmet. He'd seen him around town a few times, but never had the chance to properly meet him.

He blew a stray wisp of unkept fair hair out of his face, and bounded up to the man, who stood a full 6" taller than his own scrawny frame.

"Morning." he announced, grinning.

Danny told Sage she could have the day off since she looked so tired, he joked about it driving the customers away. She sighed, not wanting to argue. She took the things out of the basket and carried it back to her house. She said good morning to everyone who made eye contact with her. She needed to have a good reputation in this town, and after the last incident, she felt like it was coming back, slowly, but coming back. She smiled at other people who didn't seem like they wanted to talk. She walked a few miles from town and went into her house, and was greeted by her dog.

Vincent reckoned he had been doing his rounds around the village for around a quater hour before running into this young boy nearby the Village Inn. He'd faintly remembered the young boy from his earlier patrols but held little interest in him other than his occasional pranks, or so Vincent wagered at least.

"Morning" the boy said to Vincent, grinning. The boys eyes beamed with a youthful flare that reminded Vincent of the other recruits that attended the Royal Academy back in the capital. Admitedly this made Vincents mood rather merry and light, though no one could tell under his helm. He reckoned he ought to say something instead of just standing around silently, it'd probably scare the boy off if he didn't.

"Morning lad! It's a lovely morning, isn't it?"

Wylie squinted up at the pale blue sky, streaked with thin layers of cloud.
"S'pose so."
He looked back at the guard, trying to peer through his helm to see his eyes, with little success.
"What's with the antlers?" he asked directly. He'd never been one for social graces, and it was what he wanted to know.

It wasn't the first time Vincent had been questioned about his armour, and he was sure it wasn't going to be the last time either, but he'd never had someone just come up and ask so blatently. Vincent thought a briefly before explaining.

"Well... It's to honour the dead. The God of the Hunt teaches us to remember the hunters and their prey that came before us... And these antlers are my ancestor's first great hunt." Vincent proudly stated as he tugged on his right antler just above the hilt of his sword.

Ever westward the wanderer walked.

The shadows under his eyes were darker than normal, for he had been walking straight through the night, driven ever onward by wanderlust. Once he reached the gates of Lantern Wood, his exhaustion caught up with him all at once, and he knew he could travel no further.

He had walked a little ways into the village when he spied two people talking in the street: a fellow with an antler helmet and a young blond boy. The wanderer approached them, almost timidly. If any of them were to look at him in turn, they'd see a figure mostly hidden by a billowing dust-colored mantle, bearing a massive shield upon his back, its front side covered in burlap. Clearly he was armed and armored as well. His face almost looked too young to be so weathered, with its soft, boyish curves now hardened by his long trek.

"Pardon my intrusion, good m-masters," he said, his voice rough from disuse. The stutter seemed incongruous. "Prithee, can you point me to a place I m-may put up my feet for a while?"

From the north, a man walked alone at a steady pace, a strand of grass in his teeth as his bright green eyes stared forward, his boots were filthy with mud as was his leather armor. Stretching his arms behind his head, he released a large yawn before noticing a village in the distance, "Oh good a place to get something to eat, I'm starving." His pace began to pick up, his greatsword clanging off the the metal buckles of his armor, he held onto the short sword at his hip to ensure it didn't move too much as he sped up to jog, "I'm tired but I'm more hungry then tired." He said to himself with a slight chuckle, "I really shouldn't talk to myself." He quickly realized that he may seem odd to the villagers if they saw him having a conversation with himself.

Upon entering the village, he noticed a guard talking to a young child, he tried to avoid making eye contact, as guards tend to stop him often, continuing his search for a bite to eat, he found himself wandering into an inn, might as well get a room for a couple nights first, he thought to himself.

"Oh, cool!" said Wylie, gazing up at the knight's antlers. He was just reaching up to touch one when his attention was diverted by the appearance of a man; blond and scruffy, like himself, but far more scarred and aged, and weighed down by equipment.
Wylie stared, beaming. This was turning out to be an excellent day.
"Wow- hi! Yeah, yeah, there's an inn- oh, just there, actually."
He pointed to the nearby establishment, and caught a glimpse of another armoured figure ducking inside.
"I'll come with you. You look like shit. What's your name?" he asked, his cheerful, friendly tone unwavering.

As the sun rose high into the sky, she was up and ready for the day, moving about the small cabin with ease before heading out to tend her small farm.

Whistling as she fed and cared for the few pigs, sheep, cows and feathered fowl she had managed to maintain. Once chores were done and breakfest made she saddles her horse and heads for town. Bow slung over her shoulder and quiver on her back, perhaps some hunting would be had by days end.

Spurring her mount into motion she began to hum contently as hooves carried her townward, maybe the trade boats had come in early and she could get a few things, and perhaps shed meet a pretty face to make smile before returning to her lonley cabin in the woods.

Sage had gotten some sleep for a few hours, then made herself look presentable and went back to the inn to work. She avoided eye contact with everyone. She made it to the inn within a few minutes, Danny was not pleased to see her there. "I'm here to do my job, but a few extra hours of sleep helped." She said and lifted her hands as she began to work.

Now sat alone, apart from a sable-and-white dog lazing beside him, Wolfe put down his crook in favour of his lute.
He began to play, at first absent and somewhat tuneless, until he hit upon a pleasant sounding chord, then another, and soon the melody began to take shape.
The gentle wind blew these notes down from the sheep field to the road that led from the village to the woods, where, unnoticed by him, a young woman was riding.

He was sitting in the inn, taking a break from his job of training the new recruits and rich kids who wish to join the village guard or militia. He was a demanding taskmaster known for unconventional training methods and harsh discipline.
His large darksteel helmet was on the table next to him, his face covered in scars and gashes, making a horrendous sight. He drank deeply from his mug as he relaxed.

Sage was taking her rounds of asking everybody if they needed something. She went over to the scarred face man, though she didn't hesitate to get near him, nor did she gasp when she looked at him. She just smiled softly "good morning. Anything I can get you?" She asked, hoping he wouldn't yell her for interrupting his relaxation moment.

He looked up at her, surprised at her lack of reaction. "No, thanks, though." He responded, smiling slightly. He took another drink, sighing.

She nodded and walked away from him, pushing her hair out of her face. She went behind the bar and socialized with Danny. She liked him as a big brother almost. They treated each other like siblings. After a bit of silence, she poured herself some coffee and drank it.

Reynall dusted his hands off on the apron after the first rush of people that came to buy their breads and pastries passed. He started to clean up the store when the elderly man motioned for him to come over. Rey removed the apron and quickly made his way over to the man who set a small coin bag on the table between them.
“This is for you.” the old man said leaning back into his chair tired from the rush.
Reynall gave the man a questioning look before speaking, “ sir? There is absolutely no need for-”
The old man cut him off by waving his hand “ You remind me of my late son, and I’ve enjoyed having another person in the house,” The old man smiled “ and you’ve earned it! It’s not like I’m just giving it to you.”
Reynall thanked the man and stood up to get to work when the old man spoke again
“You’ve been working non-stop since you arrived, and you know how slow we get after the morning passes, Feel free to take the day off you should try to meet some of our regulars” the old man laughed “if you need to think of it as an assignment then do so but I do not want you to touch another loaf today.”
Reynall smiled and thanked the man again as he made his way out the door. He never really got a chance to see the town so he decided he could just walk around and observe the town and its locals.

The Hanged Man looked down at the kid and smiled. It was a mangled little expression, all twisted on the left side under the scar. "Thanks, young master." He bowed respectfully to Vincent, then turned to follow Wylie to the inn's door. Once inside, he paused to look over everyone already there. Of note was the scarred, armored fellow, whose face was more ragged than even his own, and another windblown wanderer, though more lightly kitted. He went to ease himself into a seat at the bar, letting out a long sigh of relief to finally be off his feet. "Don't have one," he answered Wylie at last. "People call me the Hanged Man, sometimes, or Scars, or Nobody. Sometimes cur. Call me what you'd like." He looked up at Sage behind the counter. "I need brandy, mistress, and breakfast." He frowned as if remembering something, then consulted his coin pouch. If Wylie peeked, he'd catch a glimpse of foreign coins. "... better make it just the brandy," he said sheepishly.