–Break

Selale Basin

Here is a wide open space carved in the rock, roughly circular and no more than twenty yards in diameter. The cliffs loom high on every side, providing shelter from wind and weather, but a great opening very far up lets in sunlight and sky. A thin jet of water, perhaps a daughter-stream of the river that pours into Caldron Pool, cascades down the western cliff face and feeds into a deep pool the color and clarity of a well-cut emerald. The ground, except for a ring of vegetation surrounding the pool, is dry and sandy. A single ancient larch tree grows tall near the north wall.

All around, the cliff face is etched and pocked with half-open tunnels and dark holes, entrances to small caves hollowed out years ago by the long work of water on stone. Some are fitted with wooden doors and appear inhabited, but many still yawn empty. Up above, ledges and crevices in the rock provide nesting spaces for eagles and hawks. In the east wall, through a wide crevice like a wound in the stone, the forests of Lantern Waste are just visible.

Caileana enters the basin from the cleft in the east wall.

Glyn lies at the foot of the great larch tree, flopped onto his back with his legs and head stretched out in a decidedly undignified manner. He appears to be gazing up at the stars, although under the tree branches seems like a curious place to do it. Anyone who cared to look closely might notice a lot of deep scratches in the bark of the larch’s trunk.

Caileana lopes into the Basin at an unusually quick pace, almost like she’s running /from/ something. She doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to where she’s going or what’s around her and she’s out of breath.

Glyn, startled at the sudden clamour, rolls and springs to his feet. Under ordinary circumstances, he might appear feral and poised to spring, but he seems to be paying equal attention to scanning the clearing, and inspecting himself for flaws. He relaxes a little on recognizing Caileana, and calls out, “Evening, you!”

Caileana visibly starts at the greeting, turning towards Glyn with wide, startled eyes. She blinks, a measure of control settling over her features before she says, “Oh, Glyn. Didn’t see you there,” in a tone of forced calm.

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Heart–

Selale Basin

Here is a wide open space carved in the rock, roughly circular and no more than twenty yards in diameter. The cliffs loom high on every side, providing shelter from wind and weather, but a great opening very far up lets in sunlight and sky. A thin jet of water, perhaps a daughter-stream of the river that pours into Caldron Pool, cascades down the western cliff face and feeds into a deep pool the color and clarity of a well-cut emerald. The ground, except for a ring of vegetation surrounding the pool, is dry and sandy. A single ancient larch tree grows tall near the north wall.

All around, the cliff face is etched and pocked with half-open tunnels and dark holes, entrances to small caves hollowed out years ago by the long work of water on stone. Some are fitted with wooden doors and appear inhabited, but many still yawn empty. Up above, ledges and crevices in the rock provide nesting spaces for eagles and hawks. In the east wall, through a wide crevice like a wound in the stone, the forests of Lantern Waste are just visible.

Pheeobe walks into the basin, smiling and humming to herself. She walks up the tree, climbs up gracefully and sits, looking around expectantly, as she goes quiet.

A careful observer, one who frequents this area often, might just be able to make out some new and deep scratches in the trunk of the great larch, as if some great bear had recently marked its territory. It did a really clumsy job if that’s the case.

Pheeobe looks around and as she looks near the base of the tree, she notices some new scratch marks, and hops down from the tree to observe them closer.

Suddenly, directly over her head, comes a terrific scrabbling and a thump that causes an entire bough to shake precariously. Through the crazily shivering leaves can be made out a patch of grizzled fur, and un unhappy one at that.

Pheeobe jumps back a little at the sudden sound and then, burst out laughing, as she spots Glyn. “Are you trying out your luck as a squirrel?” Continue reading

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Test

Practice List Cavern

This cavern is considerably smaller than the others, but it has the same rough-hewn appearance that belies its origin as being the result of dwarven pickwork as opposed to natural process. Some lanterns hang here to illuminate the cavern, their flames casting a flickery orange-green glow that dances on the stone walls and ceiling. The chamber is approximately round, and at the center of the room there are several wooden boxes set up, around which you can see the remnants of straw and torn burlap. At the distant end of the room, Chinafar the dwarf sits with a thick needle and twine, sewing more targets together for patrons to use for practice.

Glyn launches himself at his practice target, landing just beside and bringing the weight of his forepaw down on it, trying to knock it over. However, his stance is flawed, and he just knocks it with tips of his claw.

Lovisa pads into the Training Cavern. She cants her head, watching Glyn attack the target with an expression of cool appraisal.

Petraverd arrives from the main cavern to the north.

Glyn’s sides heave, as he’s clearly been at his practice for some time. Wheeling about, he readies himself for another strike, when he catches sight of Lovisa. He straightens immediately, eying her for a heartbeat before dipping his head politely. “Lovisa.”

Lovisa comes into the light of the cavern. “Glyn”, she says, dropping her shoulders in a gesture of greeting that is almost formal.

Petraverd walks into the cavern, his hooves making a distinct sound against the stone floor.

Glyn nods to the unicorn as well, “Good evening, Petraverd,” he says between heavy breaths that begin to settle. He looks between the two of them. “I was just getting in some late night practice, but if either of you wanted a chance at the targets, I can step aside.”

Lovisa’s grey eyes are mild. “Of course, if you find that targets are not sufficient to hone your skills any longer…”

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Misgivings

Ulfden Clearing

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You stand in the midst of a clearing in the woods. Tall trees surround you on all sides, with a wooded hill looming over you to the west. Little sunlight streams through the foliage of the trees above. Rocks jut from the ground and hill, giving the clearing a wilder look. Jutting out of the wooded hill to the west is a rocky overhang casting a slight shadow around the entrance to what seems like a cave. A scraggily wolf pads back and forth before the entrance, glancing your way.

The clearing ends in a rock path leading through scattered trees to the east. A small cave entrance dwells underneath the overhang to the west.
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Glyn sits at the edge of the clearing, looking out along the path to the east.

Eirwyn pads out of the den and into the clearing. She gives her fur a good shake. Her pace is slow, and she gives a toothy yawn, appearing tired. When she sees Glyn in the clearing, she starts to pad over toward him and she says, “Hello, Glyn.”

Glyn looks back over his shoulder and then abruptly stands to face Eirwyn and lower his head. “Good evening, Alpha. How are you this evening?”

Caileana comes trotting out of the den to the west.

Eirwyn dips her head to him. “A little tired, but otherwise well enough. How are you this evening?”

Glyn glances back along the path, ears slightly splayed, before replying, “Patrols are quiet, the pack is well fed. I shouldn’t complain.”

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Distrust

Gathering Circle

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What a sweet place you have wandered to. The forest trees here are scattered across a soft meadow of heather and wildflowers, and the sun dapples the ground through the leaves above. This is a wide section of earth, and it seems to be a gathering place – indeed, there is a ring of stones in one side of the open clearing where it seems fires have been built over many nights. To the south, a worn path leads to the Caldron Pool and the waterfall that feeds it. You can also see a path leading west toward the cliff-face. To the east the path leads into the deeper forests of Lantern Waste.
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Glyn approaches from the west, panting but alert. His pace slows as he recognizes Petraverd. “Good evening,” he calls.

Trianna yawns from the place in the ground where she lays. She looks up to se who is calling and stands.

Petraverd lets out a low, somewhat tired, but pleasant sort of whinny toward wolf and mare.

Glyn’s ears flick toward the unicorn mare as she stirs. He smiles and dips his head to her as well. “Good evening, both of you. You seem tired…”

Trianna shakes her head and whinnies back to the stallion as she trots towards the wolf. “I have been waiting for someone’s patrols to come this way. It seems we may have a situation.”

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History

At the beginning of the Great River

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You stand at the head of the Great River of Narnia, where it flows from the Cauldron Pool and begins its southeastern journey toward the sea. Here, the river is fairly shallow and small, and looks pretty easy to cross. As it happens, you also stand at the edge of Lantern Waste, which lies to the east. The trees crowd the riverbank more closely in that direction, but the going doesn’t appear to be that difficult. To the west, you can see Cauldron Pool’s clear waters twinkling in the sunshine, and hear the roar of the waterfall as it crashes over the western cliffs.
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Glyn sits at the riverbank, looking out over the rushing water, unusually inattentive to his surroundings.

Trianna canters along the river’s edge with a bundle of carrots in her mouth. She spots Glyn and slows her pace. She watches him. After a moment she trots over and sets down her carrots to stand next to Glyn.

Glyn’s ears flick and his head jerks back to regard her as she approaches. “Oh,” he says evenly, “Good evening, Trianna.” He eyes her carrots for a moment. “Gathering supper?”

Trianna shakes her mane out. “Greetings Glyn. No, was gathering for the herd. There are a few mares expecting. I mainly gather for Peridot. Petraverd patrols a lot. I think he brings her special things. I just bring the basics.” She studies the wolf. “It isn’t often I see you separated from the pack by yourself. Unless of course you are with Caileana or Petraverd. Why are you here?”

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Frustration

Gathering Circle

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What a sweet place you have wandered to. The forest trees here are scattered across a soft meadow of heather and wildflowers, and the sun dapples the ground through the leaves above. This is a wide section of earth, and it seems to be a gathering place – indeed, there is a ring of stones in one side of the open clearing where it seems fires have been built over many nights. To the south, a worn path leads to the Caldron Pool and the waterfall that feeds it. You can also see a path leading west toward the cliff-face. To the east the path leads into the deeper forests of Lantern Waste.
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Petraverd rests placidly in the Gathering Circle, his attentions focused skyward as he flicks his tail every now and again.

Trianna trots over to Petraverd with a concerned look on her face. She whinnies loudly as she approaches.

Glyn emerges from under the western canopy of trees, his gait exhausted.

Caileana follows close at his heels, in a similar state.

Petraverd glances over at the whinny, and returns it in kind, though he gets back to his hooves once he notes his herd sister’s expression, frowning a bit as he flicks an ear.

Trianna skids on her hooves, pulling up sprouts of grass and clods of dirt. She stops some 10 inches shy of running clean into Petraverd. “Petraverd,” she says out of breath, “I was sniffing around doing some foraging and found some strange tracks that had not grown cold yet. They came out of the most odd place!”

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