abraxaslogs | WELCOME TO SOLVUNN!

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WELCOME TO SOLVUNN!

WELCOME TO SOLVUNN!

Welcome to Solvunn! Bright suns and merriest of welcomes to you! The portal opens in a vast field on the western side of town surrounded by cattle, with a distant view of the bustling marketplace. The first impression of the settlement is one of idylic, country charm. There are no looming structures or crowded streets. Instead, there are cozier houses on wide streets and community buildings made of stone and wood. A gentle breeze rolls across the field and the sun is high in the sky.

There's not as much magic here as in other locations, but it's there. No one will be stopped from entering Solvunn, though suspicion will be cast upon new arrivals. Citizens will be friendly and welcoming, but curious about their new visitors. It isn't often that they welcome new folks- especially not so many at once!

With tensions between the other communities, Solvunn will not be keen on ratting out those who fled Thorne, but with the knowledge that sanctuary will not be given for free. Everyone does their part, whatever that part may be.

Asking questions will result in being told to find Rowan March, one of the council members, somewhere in the marketplace.

Threaded | Flat

[ Tucked off to the side of the busy marketplace is a small caravan and a temporary fence keeping a few goats from getting lost in the crowd. Rowan is a relatively broad man who is hard to miss. His demeanor seems relaxed, but his eyes are keen. Gossip travels like wildfire, and with everyone in town gathered, he's gotten word of their visitors.

He offers a quickly waved welcome and leans against one of the fence posts despite the way it moves as he does it. His voice is loud, his consonants harsh. ]

If what I'm hearin' is right, you're a long way from home.

[ Roland settles in to Solvunn surprisingly quickly. It's not exactly what he was used to back in Midworld, but he's learned that picking up the local slang and traditions as soon as possible makes things easier.

What doesn't help is that not everyone in his group had chosen to come through to Solvunn. For a few days after they arrive Roland can be found every night in one of the local taverns. He doesn't drink so much as he stares moodily into the distance, a grim expression on his face. While he won't approach anyone he knows, neither will he reject anyone who chooses to join him. ]

[ After around a week, he can start to be found in the town market, selling freshly hunted game for both meat and pelts. Roland has traded the silks they received back in Thorne for more comfortable clothes, but he wears a broach with the death arcana pinned across his breast-- the result of another trade. His eyes light up when he sees someone he recognises. ]

Hile! How goes it? The Old Gods treating you well?

[ Solvunn seems a peaceful place to Link. Sprawling and rural, it reminds him of the rolling hills and farms of Hateno or Akkala... with a dash of seaside Lurelin, as well. Though he has plenty of skills he could likely leverage for more elegant accommodations, he finds a place to stay in the tertiary settlement: a long-abandoned little shack that a relative of the missing family member is willing to loan him, in exchange for fixing it up and regularly bringing home fish and wild mushrooms.

He's never fixed up a house before, but Link is certain he can do it. The fishing is almost the greater challenge, because he's used to using his hands in the much clearer waters of Hyrule - but he's willing to put in the effort to learn.

Find him perched on a rather hazardous-looking rocky outcrop over the shore, baiting a fishing line.

Alternately, perhaps you'll be attracted to his little hovel by the smell of bubbling fish and vegetable stew, which he cooks outdoors over a fire. If he catches you looking, he'll gesture you over to join him. ]

Hungry?

Estinien wakes with a start, the water already well on its way to cooling. Taking a bath had been so luxurious compared to his days in prison, the peace of it had been enough to lull him into slumber. Thankfully, he's already washed - there's no need for more water, especially when he doesn't know how long he's been dozing to begin with.

Slowly, he begins to pick himself up, running the water through his hair one last time, trying to comb out what knots he could with his fingers. He can still smell the fragrant oils the lady of the house had provided him with, a gesture kinder than it needed to be. Himeka has made a good first impression, apparently, and found them eager enough hosts. It won't be a mistake on their part, he decides. He'll pay them back for their charity, even if it takes a while to get moving again.

With some disappointment, he discovers the horns and tail are still with him, rough patches of scales leading to inhuman feet beneath the darkened water. A problem for tomorrow, it seems. Though his body still aches, bruises well on their way, the combination of being clean, fed, and partly rested is enough to make him feel nearly incorporeal. He dries and dresses himself in a daze, often catching himself wondering if any of this is real at all.

On his way out, he tosses his prisoner rags in the nearest rubbish bin he can find, and quietly makes his way to the barn. The sun has set, its glow lingering in the form of fiery gold bands along the horizon. The sound of shuffling livestock accomplanies the cool wind of twilight. He exhales heavily, a shiver of emotion rattling him. When Himeka had told him she found a place to stay, he had never imagined they'd be raising sheep.

Thankfully, the barn they've been given the loft to is more for storing feed and supplies than animals, and so the smell of it is easy enough on the senses. There is one cow within it, though, munching on something out of a troff as he arrives. He gazes at it with some wonderment, carefully approaching it from its side.

He lays a hand on its neck for a moment, gently patting its side. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to mind his presence. He leaves her to her food, smiling faintly.

He tugs on the rope that releases the narrow stairs leading up to the loft. As he arrives, the light is already on. He doesn't say anything as he enters, the same feeling of unreality lingering.

[Martin's not sure what he's fully expecting when he breaks through the portal, arms heavy with the outfit he's gotten from Nero, but the almost idyllic display of the small village is something else to actually just... step through, and be there, and when he turns around the portal's gone - just more fields and cows behind them. The sudden reality of the situation hits hard, and he just spends a minute or so staring at where he came from, until a cow comes up to investigate him curiously. He's quick to leave the field after that.]

[It's not hard for him to ingratiate himself into people's company, though - he stays in the primary settlement, and ends up working his way into the morning reading group's good graces within the fortnight, and even starts to get a quiet reputation for being good at putting the books away and quickly memorizes as many of the fables as he can. So more often than not, it's easiest to catch him at the modest library, taking extensive notes on a pad he's managed to requisition.

More often than not, when he's not there, he's managed to get himself surrounded by small children who enjoy his reading - or, probably more accurately, find him an easy target to push around, because he really is just getting dragged around like a glorified babysitter to help with... whatever the children think they need a less real adult for. Piggyback ride are common, in fact, as is gently flustered one-child-clinging-to-each-leg-as-he-tries-to-walk, and sometimes even teaching letters or words for the extra curious. (Most of them are from the same family, in fact, since their mother's letting him sleep in their attic. It's full of spiders and the bed's not much more than a few bundles of hay under a blanket and everything itches, but it's warm and safe and there's space for his notes. He likes spiders, anyway.)]

[He's got limited free time, in the end, but mostly during the mid-afternoon and very late evenings he can be found wandering around, occasionally checking into the tavern or wandering through the town market for... well, anything interesting. There's no shortage of opportunities to catch him, and he always tends to respond amicably.]

It's not really so bad here, is it?

[ The first thought that Nero actually had when he saw Solvunn is -- Fuck! Everything about the country gives him a visceral reaction as he recalls his own past living with his own kind. Even the way that everyone treats one another is reminiscent to what he escaped.

Though, he probably shouldn't think "escaped" since he was actually banished and branded a pariah to his people. But whatever!

He has the feeling that he has been tricked, but it isn't that at all. It's his own fault for just going along without a single thought in his head. Besides, he might have come to Solvunn on his own eventually to see what everything is all about. He might as well soak everything up now, right? Right. ]

[ Nero decides that he would be better off in the tertiary settlement and locates himself a house that appears to had the ever-loving shit kicked out it by time and elements. He doesn't mind it all that much given all the sleeping he's done outdoors, and he doesn't know shit about repairing a house. But he acquired it with the agreement that he'll attempt to always contribute what he can to the community.

But what can he contribute? He can contribute murder. Well, it isn't murder of the locals, at least. It's murder of pirates that he's heard the people mumbling about every so often. So, he disappears on his own hunting trip. He brings back the contraband that the "ruffians" were plundering, and hands it off to the Solvunn traders to do with what they want. Nero doesn't need the wealth or glory; he just enjoys his craft.

So, one can find him carting along bags of unknown items on his back to the town market to hand his goods off. Blood splattered over his face, arms, and clothes; he whistles as he works, because really, a person always should have a smile on their face and heart as they do what they love.

... Sadly, he's only able to do that a few times before the pirates travel too far out from him to be able to chase them down.

So, he's back to making a minor pest out of himself at the taverns. He speaks kindly enough to the pretty local girls, but they don't seem particularly interested in him. It might be the tales of how he has been wandering around bloodied that are keeping them understandably at bay. So, he's found lying, halfway on a table, staring at the wall and loudly sighing. Not a drink in hand, but thoroughly broken-hearted. ]

Edited 2021-09-06 00:53 (UTC)

i. familiar faces

[ The escape from Thorne had been a whirlwind, seeing faces of prisoners and the welcomed alike all congregating before the portals. Both fists and words were thrown before everyone dispersed and it would be a lie if Himeka said she kept track of who went where. Yet even those who appeared the most human stood out in some ways amongst the residents of the commune, so even after the first few days in the region, she would occasionally stop and stare at anyone who looked just a tad familiar.

As she does now.

When the recognition sets in, she smiles and offers a short wave, happy to be in something clean and warm in contrast to their prison garb.

(If she knows you... ]

It's nice to see a familiar face. This is a far cry from Thorne, isn't it?

[ (If she doesn't know you...) ]

You were with us when we left through the portal, weren't you?

ii. tough decisions

[ Inhuman appearances aside, Himeka found little trouble fitting right in to the nature of the commune. Eager to help--mayhaps too eager at times--she made it a habit to go around and offering assistance to any person who looked like they needed it. In exchange for advice, supplies, or coin, after a week of running errands and manual labor, she has acquired enough coin to make a very important purchase.

Blessed though she feels to have a warm and dry place to sleep with her friends thanks to the generous nature of two of the locals, she is keen to start to acquire some of her own possessions. And one of the most important things you can own is a good pot to cook in. And not just any old pot--some iron that will last for years.

But she's at an impasse, standing in the market as she looks between two different stalls that, perhaps by fate, have situated right next to one another. One, clearly the works of a blacksmith having created several important supplies from pots, pans, to iron forks and stokes for the fire, and the other, the most delectable looking pastries she's seen in months. Rustic in their appearance, yet she can smell the sweet spice and sugar baked into the bread and can only imagine what tasty fillings were cooked within.

So she stands there, pointedly in the middle of the thoroughfare, looking back and forth as her tails twitches behind her anxiously. ]

...This is almost more difficult than leaving Thorne.

[ Please help an indecisive lizard make the best or worst choice. ]

iii. shall we make a bet?

[ CW: Alcohol. ]

[ There is something inherently charming about these smaller towns. As much as she enjoys the high stone walls of Ishgard or the ever crowded streets of Kugane, life does seem to slow down in places more like Solvunn. But that is hardly to say there isn't trouble to get into. Well-meaning trouble, of course!

It was really only a matter of time before Himeka made an appearance at the local tavern. The atmosphere had that mix of loud local conversations and general revelry that made her energized. It was similar to the Drowning Wench in some ways, but felt like a much more tight knit bunch. She certainly stood out when she weaseled her way in to what appeared to be an ongoing drinking contest. Though she did not have much coin, she started to make up for it, having out drain two men nearly twice her size.

She's hopped off her seat to go get herself something to snack on with her winnings, gait noticeably a little more wobbly than it ought to be otherwise and unsurprisingly stumbles into another patron. ]

Oops!

[ She doesn't sound too apologetic, though. ]

Oh...are you'p next? You should know I haven't lost yet!

After struggling for his life, it feels strange to fall into a less dire routine. Work on the farm keeps Estinien busy but, as it turns out, there are more hours in the day than he actually needs to spend, and no immediate leads pressing enough for him to spend his hours obsessing over them. There are times he almost feels like he's part of a community, as foolish as he knows it is. Despite all his wandering, it's unusual to feel like a normal person, carrying out everyday concerns.

This also means there is time for recreation, which is an activity Estinien has always struggled with. He put off developing interests until just recently, and even while touring other countries, there was always the vague illusion of purpose. Now, it turns out, he's going to the local tavern to watch Himeka drink. No particular reason - just to spend time together.

Early on, Estinien shadows Himeka closely, her being his main social link to this community. It turns out that she has other friends here, both from Solvunn and former prisoners, that he hasn't really met yet. He stays quiet when she talks to them, not wanting to interrupt, and not knowing what he'd say if he did. They're here for Himeka, after all. He's fine just sitting and having a drink.

Once Himeka is fully embroiled in her alcoholic endurance test, though, it gets harder to ignore one man in particular - a prisoner, whom he heard Himeka mention the name of. Amos, was it? They find themselves both watching from a distance as she does her thing, in proximity, but not meaningfully interacting. Eventually, though, something comes over him.

Estinien decides to speak.

"'Tis something, isn't it?" he says, his eyes mostly on Himeka, but flickering over to Amos just briefly enough to indicate that he's the one he's speaking to.

It doesn't take long for Estinien to get to work. He spends half of their first day in Solvunn resting, but then it's off to speak with Maeve and Declan about what they want done with the farm. He explains his experience with the handling of sheep, and asks them for details about the daily routine.

Maeve is certainly interested in his offer to help, but not without a few tests, first. She takes him around the farm, watching as he performs various tasks, ensuring that his skills are up to par. While a few things take some refreshing - and Maeve is quick to give him instruction, sometimes even when he doesn't need it - but ultimately his youthful recollections seem to be enough to earn her trust. At least, enough to work on his own.

It turns out there is a lot to do around here.

The farm clearly needs more people to manage it than it has, and that's even besides Declan's injury. Routine tasks have fallen behind, the most urgent of those being the routine care of the sheep's hooves. Thankfully, a strong body goes a long way to getting that done, and with some basic instruction, Estinien can fall back on old instincts.

He can be found out in the field, a sheep clasped in his arms, shearing off one of its overgrown hooves with a pair of clippers.

Threaded | Flat

Meeting Rowan

Roland / Death arcana

Link | LoZ: Breath of the Wild | Strength

closed to himeka