End of Stonewright's Street -- The Barracks
The end of Stonewright's Street runs right up against the side of the mountain here at this sheltered location. The long low buildings of the garrison stationed here take up most of the available space around this square, with the soldiers' quarters to the outer edge, sheltering the officers' houses from the brisk winds. The sounds of drilling and sword practice drift up from behind one of the myriad building - the commanders' voices yelling above the noise of the trampling feet. Now and again, some soldier or another dashes across the cobbled square on errand to or from the Citadel and the higher officers stationed there.
 

Contents:
Kydner
Guard Squadron
Obvious exits:
Officers' Quarters, Training Ground, Barracks, and Down

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Weather:            Rainy
Time:                Dawn <about 6 AM >
Season:              Summer
Date:               Highday - July 25, 3014

Real Time:          Sun May 31 14:05:46 1998
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Dric
   A short young lad catches your eye as he darts about wherever he is. He wears a black homespun shirt half tucked into a pair of black trousers. Though his clothing seems to have been washed multiple times, it still has that little-boy dirtiness about it, the soiled look that comes from too much activity. Polished black riding boots, perhaps a bit scuffed, cover his feet. Blondish brown hair sweeps across his forhead, cut relatively short though it is scraggily and tends to fall down into his eyes. Those eyes being bright, shining, inquisitive-about-the-world blue.
   All of four feet in hight, with his boots on, this young lad makes up or it in inquisitiveness - and speed. He seems, from his build, to be no more than eleven or so, but his eyes place him in more of the thirteen-year range... though it may just be his overly-intelligent shine to his eyes and the lack of hight, which could throw off any judgement. A heavy, dark wood longsword hangs strapped to his back, the sword being almost as long as the boy is tall. It has a rough look to it, but even covered by a pack on his shoulder, the sword does appear well made.

Kydner
   A young lad, about 17 years has he seen. Brown eyes peer out of dirty blond hair. He is tall, taller than most. His youthfullness shows in his eyes and step. Dressed in simple farmer's garb, mostly brown, does let his hair shine. Through the simple cloths you can see he is muscled, yet only when he moves is this apparent.

As the rain beats softly upon the ground outside the barracks and the sun rises over the horizon, spreading its rays finally on the third tier and those living there, movement begins to show. Guardsmen, some just rising, others returning from the night's duty, and even more snoring still inside the barracks are seen and heard in larger quantities as the dawn speaks of a shift change. The sounds of breakfast stir inside, and the voices of men speaking begin to float outside. A small figure stands beside the barracks, almost completly hidden from view by the large building.

Kydner walks up the street, his head low against the rain, but there remains a smile, one of youthfullness and happiness it seems. He stops outside the barracks as he hears the voices from inside. A slight shrugg and with a pause at the door....He continues on the road he is walking.

The patter of the rain, light as it is, on the stones of the streets drowns out some of the inside noise, but only amplifies that of the occasional soldier to wet his whole boot in a large puddle. Smaller footsteps are heard, not very loudly, and the small figure passes almost as a shadow, dressed in black among the guards with the same color talbard. His bright, blond hair shines out, though, even brownish as it is, and wet, plastered against his head. The hilt of a long wooden sword sticks up from behind his head.

Kydner shruggs at the door and continues on up the street, but hearing footsteps behind him, and small and soft they are, he smiles. Stopping quickly Kydner turns to face the one who follows him.

The man before him stops, causing the young lad to fall back a step, and dart for the ocver of the shadows thrown near the officers' quarters by the rising sun. He avoids the doorway to the OQ as if for his life, and turns hie bright blue eyes on Kydner.

Kydner chuckles as he catches the young lad dart from his view for a moment, his eyes lock on the childs as he peers again from the doorway "Come lad, errr, tis Dirc yes?" He puts his hands on his hips "You can come out, fear nothing, I see you still have ye sword." Again the grin spreads from his lips and lights his face.

Dric shakes his head hard, causing the wet strangs of hair to be flung into his face. "G'morning, Kydner," he says in a lot tone, eyes darting about as he speaks, "I can' come out, y'see," he adds, almost in explination for his peculiar hiding, "Or m'brother'll catch me. Or Malahir. They can', y'see, they just can'." He sounds quite worried over it, streching his nxt to see the owner of each set of bootfalls.

Kydner tilts his own rain soaked head to the side "And that would be bad, ye speaking to me?" Smiling "Ye were my first friend here Dirc, let me not gain ye trouble, but..." Again the smile, but now perhaps something more, perhap confidence is what has replaced reluctance in his attitude. "I am sure I could speak to them" pointing to the small wooden sword "I still see ye carry ye sword young warrior! Tis good to see such!"

Dric shakes his head once more, even harder, and stomps a foot on the rain-soaked ground. "No!" he exclaims, backing his negative with full force. Calming after a moment, he says again to Kydner, "Definitly bad, sir, real bad, real real bad. Y'can' even tell 'em y'saw me." He looks up now at the young man, who has a good number of years and inches on himself, "Please.. I beg ya."

Kydner with his head still tilted to one side, the last of the water drips off his hair out of his eyes. A puzzled look on his face "And why is that Dric, am I to be shunned so badly that I cannot speak that I have seen ye?" Now, the confidence that he has been feeling is quickly sucked out of him, again comes the postiure that many have know, one of the lost one, one of not belonging.

Looking up and seeing Kydner's expression, the young lad heaves a heavy sigh, and remains silent for a few long moments. "Not 'tall, sir, no.. I's jus'..." Trailing off, he swollows, and looks up once more, meeting the man's gaze with his own, "They don' even know I'm in the city. They think I'm in th' mountains. If y'tell 'em, I'll get cought. I don' need to get cought, not now."

Kydner relaxes a bit as the youth speaks "Ah I see, so then it is not me, but perhaps that you are not where ye should be...And here I thought that I was the one that caused the trouble." Smilling "so then if I speak of seeing ye, you are in trouble, and if I think correctly, so am I. Well ye secret is safe with me Lad.

Dric lowers his head at Kydner's last statement, shaking it softly, causing the water in his hair to drip down his neck and further soak his black shirt and trousers, he remains silent a minute or two. "No," he says softly, as though it pains him to say it, "No, they'll prob'ly promote ya, or somthin' like that, be happy, if y'told 'em. S'pecially m'brother. But they'll skin me alive." The black talbard that this little drummer boy once wore so proudly is conspicuously missing from his attire.

Kydner runs his hand through his wet hair "Well I have found that if one is advanced in life cause of the difficulties caused to another, well only ill will come from that." Looks at the youth "If ye know what I mean" Smiling "As I have said, ye secreat is safe with my young Dirc."

Relief washes over the lad's face, and he looks up once more, "Thank ye, sir, thank ye so very much." After that, though, he falls silent, contemplating the guardsmen and others around yet keeping near the shadows as best he can, as if to totally escape their attention.

Kydner watches the look of the lad, one not realy much younger than he. He smiles and motions his head up the street "I shall walk up a bit, if ye wish to follow M'Young Lord."

Dric nods quietly, looking down the street in the direction Kydner motions, as if checking it out for a position to hide. "Alright..." he says, almost hesitantly, biting his lower lip. Looking up once more at the man, he says in a quiet voice, "Y'wouldn' have any food on ya, would ya?"

Kydner walks on up the street, a slow pace he takes. Chuckleing a bit he does reach into a pouch hanging on his side. Fishing about he does pull out a fresh bit of rabbit jerky that he fixed him self "Here, take this, though ye will have to tell me how good it is." He winks as he holds out the meat.

Dric walks beside Kydner up the street, glancing around continually and generally keeping to the shadowy side. Taking the meat gratefully, the lad, with boyish hunger, gobbles it down quickly, barely taking the time to chew, as if it were his first meal in many days. "Thank ye, sir, again.." he says, mouth still full, "'S pretty good, really." However, he pauses after speaking, and his face seems to turn worried all of a sudden. He opens his mouth, once, twice, but no sound comes out.

Kydner stops his walk as he watches the young lad "What? Is there a problem?" He says as he looks about. Not seeing anything apparent he looks at Dric "If ye need to go, then run, fear not, I have not seen ye." Again he winks at the lad as his head looks about, a trained eye looking amongst those on the street.

The lad shakes his head, face turning more worried quickly. His lips seem to be turning a slightly blueish color, and the rest of his face doesn't look so good either. Placing a hand near his throat, he pantomines eating with his other one, shaking his head the whole time. The poor boy looks almost panicked.

Kydner looks at the lad, confusion on his face at first. Then with a serious look he asks, not looking for an answer as he moves to stand behind the lad "M'Lord, are ye chocking on the meat?" He shraply places a blow between the lads shoulder blades.

Dric nods wildly, fright shining brightly in his face. The blow to his back does nothing for him, only double him over onto his knees from the force. The rabbit meat seems to have lodged itself well into his throat. A few people, mainly children find their way to watch the scene with wide-eyes interest. A pair guardsmen just pass it by, shaking their heads.

Kydner quickly grabs the youth from behind, his hands instinctivly clasping them selves just under the rib cage and a quick upthrust with is hands attempting to dislodge the meat.

The second try to get the rabbit from his throat once agian only ends in pain shooting through the boy's chest. He stands up, looking almost dizzy, looking around worriedly. He looks up at Kydner, eyes pleading.

Kydner attempts anotherm thrust, but his right hand goes to the boy's mouth, a finger reaches in, and finding the tip of the meat, the other finger goes in and grasps it, pulling it free.

With a loud, almost hacking, cough as the rabbit meat is yanked from his throat, Dric places a hand up to his neck, and swollows a number of times, breathing heavily. Passers-by who have stopped to view the spectical begin to drift away now that the crisis is over, returning to their own buisness. The lad looks up at Kydner, respect and gratitude shining in his eyes. He does not speak, however, but once again looks worriedly towards the barracks and officers' quarters.

Kydner quickly goes to the front of the lad, falling to one knee, and a look of deep concern "Lil Lord, are ye well?" His eyes search over the young man's "I am so sorry, trully are ye well, speak to me." Still his eyes search the lads face for problems.

With another loud cough, Dric nods his head, eyes watering a little. "Aye, I'm well," he speaks softly, very quietly, though his thoughts seem to be on something other than how he feels at the moment, something much less pleasant. "I'm fine." he adds at last.

Kydner drops his other Knee, now fully kneeling infornt of the lad. Hearing him speak a look of releif comes to him "Ah, tis good Dirc, here let me see, open ye mouth to make sure noting is left." Kydner stares at the lad, a firm look on his face, almost comanding the lad to go with his request.

Dric opens his mouth automatically, allowing Kydner to look inside, though the smell of it is probably not the nicest. His attention still seems elsewhere, though, after blinking hard a couple times, he finally says, "Thank ye, sir, thank ye a lot.."

Kydner looks at the childs mouth and throut, then with a slight smile he puts his hand against the lads bottem chin and pushes it closed "I think ye are fine." He stands and pats the lad on the shoulder "Ye did have me scared there for a moment. No go, and Dirc" He looks at the lad "I thank ye for ye friendship, sip at some water till ye feel better, and once again ye secret is safe with me." Smiles as he watches the youth.

Dric grins back up at Kydner, "Thank ye again, sir," he says, picking up some of the man's dialect while he's at it, "G'morning," he adds in farewell, darting off down the street, sticking to the shadows still.

Kydner stands and chuckles, but one with a sigh as he watches the youth head off. He turns and continues his way up the street.