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Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 20:22:01 GMT
Cynesige trudges forlornly in the ankle deep mud of the rutted highway leading from the settlement of Ychrhyd, the dully silhouetted palisade of which is gradually receding into the distance as his pace begins to quicken. It is dusk and the weather is worsening. A hood is pulled over his face, shielding him from the thickening drizzle that is blowing in from the East. Despite his high birth he is taken as a lowly peasant in the dim light by the travelers that pass him. "Just as well" he discerns to himself as he struggles to manouevre around the quickly growing puddles that are forming in the road's deep ruts. Those travelers like him are making for shelter: in their case for Ychryd; in his the small hamlet of Cwmsych. Dusk is quickly becoming night and it is his hope that he shall arrive prior to nightfall proper to secure for himself a bed for the night and some vittles.
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 21:55:35 GMT
Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 21:55:35 GMT
Before very long, Cynesige is able to distinguish lights between distant willow trees that are clumped around the base of a murky and damp looking hill. He has arrived at the outskirts of Cwmsych. He brooks a fast flowing stream before continuing onward toward the small settlement. He gradually nears the proximity of modest dwellings and thatched hovels that line the approaches to the village. He leaves the road and shelters under the branches of a large oak tree beside the dirt road. He sits and stares in the direction of the larger buildings in the middle of Cwmsych.
He is aware that since his departure from Ychrhyd half a day prior, news of his exile will have likely proceeded him. Cautious that there may already be persons searching for his whereabouts, he sits and watches the settlement from a safe distance. If there were strangers in the town waiting for him, some sign or perhaps disturbance ought to be discernible from this distance. It is his intention to wait a small while before deciding to enter the inn he can see across the way.
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 21:57:32 GMT
Post by Admin on Mar 13, 2016 21:57:32 GMT
The rain gets heavier as Cynesige sits there. He is thoroughly wet, when he decides that there is nothing untoward going on in the small village, except for a few seemingly abandoned houses at the far end.
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 22:13:44 GMT
Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 22:13:44 GMT
The abandoned buildings caught Cynesige's attention and caused him to focus his attention on them for some time while deciding whether or not to approach the inn. Their apparent vacancy was ominous. Cynesige had been in this village the summer prior and had no recollection of abandoned buildings. His brow furrowed as he scrutinized them from afar. They appeared only recently derelict. The one nearest him seemed homely enough, if for the lack of a fire in the hearth. He mused that if they really were abandoned, he could comfortably spend the night in one of them, while avoiding unwanted attention by entering the inn. He weighed the costs for several minutes before resolving to approach the nearest derelict building. He did so by skirting the outskirts of the settlement in the hopes of not being seen.
It is his intention to investigate the building, if only to quench his curiosity. He gently pushes open the wooden door, hoping to find nothing to surprise him inside.
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 22:16:13 GMT
Post by Admin on Mar 13, 2016 22:16:13 GMT
"What're ye doing there, eh?", calls a peasant, as Cynesige prevaricates by the tree, "folk shouldn't linger like that, it being dark n all. Folk might get the wrong impression..."
The newcomer squints at him through the gloom, "ye don't look like one of them raiders, what d'ye want?"
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 22:22:31 GMT
Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 22:22:31 GMT
"With the weather being so dreadful, I came here in the hopes of finding a bed to sleep in, a hearth to dry my socks on and perhaps something to relieve my hunger. I wonder if you could direct me toward the vicinity of an inn? You seem a Theist fellow, mayhaps you could aid a poor sinner?"
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 22:26:17 GMT
Post by Admin on Mar 13, 2016 22:26:17 GMT
"I don't know about that, but they say Theos don't like a man who don't help another in need", he says looking a tad confused, if mollified.
"We've not an inn here in Cwmsych, but ol' Rhiannon keeps a decent brew, and she keeps a clean hay for a traveller, not that we get many", he looks suspicious again.
"What did ye say yer name was?"
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 22:34:54 GMT
Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 22:34:54 GMT
"I am a retainer in the service of Llyr ap Bola Tew. You shall hear more in the morning, for my eyes are heavy for want of rest. Go to the other householders in the village and tell them to gather outside the chapel tomorrow at midday, for I wish to meet with them. Now however, I shall go to the house of this Rhiannon of whom you speak. Thank you, Theist."
With that, Cynesige goes to the house of Rhiannon and enjoys her hospitality until morning.
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 22:37:13 GMT
Post by Admin on Mar 13, 2016 22:37:13 GMT
"I see I won't get more out of you then", he says intimidated by Cynesige's quiet authority, "It's the big house on the way. Got a stake over the door. Tell her Twm sent ye."
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 22:59:55 GMT
Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 22:59:55 GMT
The following morning Cynesige made his way toward the chapel that he had observed during the evening's vigil. It was a small and dilapidated structure, with crumbling stonework and a poorly kept garden. As he observed the village in daylight, he noticed the houses' general state of disrepair and the unkempt condition of the village square that he stood amid.
A small congregation of poor looking village dwellers and hill farmers stood around the chapel's decayed porch. As Cynesige approached they turned to observe him. They eyed him, timid and mute. The throng parted as he strode through them.
"I have called on you to assemble here in order to inform you that the good lord Llyr ap Bola Tew is making preparations for a campaign abroad this summer. I, one of his many retainers, have been sent in order to recruit volunteers for his war-band. I have here a commission of array which you may peruse, as proof of what I say."
He disseminated among them several bills and receipts which he had found stuffed in his knapsack the afternoon prior when he had at first had the the idea to hatch such a plan. He knew full well that none of the village dwellers were likely to be literate.
"I am able to tell from the state of your village that times are hard and that you are poor. Here is an opportunity for you to reverse your fortunes and to acquire great wealth and riches. So what say you? How many of you will join the army of Llyr ap Bola Tew?"
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 23:03:21 GMT
Post by Admin on Mar 13, 2016 23:03:21 GMT
"Lord who?", calls one, "I ain't never heard of any Llyr".
"Rhys is our lord, Count of Ychrhyd", adds an older man, "Always has been, 'ccept when it were Meredydd"
"It weren't Meredydd you daft codger, it were MereRydd"
The peasants get lost in their own argument for a while...
"One thing we does agree, we ain't heard a no Llyr, and that is that. Who are you supposed to be?"
The crowd disperses somewhat, only the most belligerent remain, questioning Cynesige incessantly...
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 23:20:59 GMT
Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 23:20:59 GMT
Cynesige stands leaning against the chapel wall with his elbow, cleaning his nails with the other hand. This task he fixates himself with while the peasants bicker and argue, oblivious to the incredulity his attempts to persuade them have elicited. He continues until he notices that a few of the congregation are starting to depart.
"Very well then, I shall have to move on to the next village! It seems as though none of you are interested in the glory, riches and renown you would no doubt earn in the service of the good lord Llyr. I am disappointed! I was informed that the menfolk of Cwmsych were a wholesome lot, and stout. Instead I see a press of cowardly and wicked wretches, undeserving of the dignity and esteem that befits brave warriors. Go back to your hill farms you blaggards and rascals, I can see I was misinformed and that I have wasted my time. Devil take the lot of you! Go back to your sheep worrying!"
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 23:23:00 GMT
Post by Admin on Mar 13, 2016 23:23:00 GMT
The peasants give up Cynesige for a bad job. All but two gangly youths, "Sir, what riches are you talking about? Will ye pay us?"
"We got no weapons, sir, but we're brave, aye. We'll fight for Llyr."
"Will ye pay us?"
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 23:29:31 GMT
Post by Cynesige ap Hyfaidd on Mar 13, 2016 23:29:31 GMT
Cynesige took a look at the two youths. They were disheveled but broad shouldered and strong looking; obviously farm hands well acquainted with hard manual labour. He smiled and he pulled out his purse.
"Here is one Crown each. This is an advance. Should you come with me, you shall receive one for each month. I shall pay for your vittles and provisions, and equip you for the campaign. However, you must answer to me as your master, and do exactly as I tell you."
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Exile
Mar 13, 2016 23:39:41 GMT
Post by Admin on Mar 13, 2016 23:39:41 GMT
"Aye sir!", the boys shout excitedly, looking at their crowns... they'd never had so much wealth in their life.
"Will we be going to Ychrhyd? To get out weapons?! The village smith left a few weeks ago, papa was saying he don't know how we'll mend the farm tools"...
It occurs to Cynesige that he will need to get some victuals for himself and the boys...
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