The kid stood next to Ranger, looking over his 'warriors'. Truth be told Ranger had thought the kid was having delusions of grandeur. Then the girl in charge, Annith? Anbeth? Whatever, who cares. The girl had gotten her weapons and armour, and suddenly it seemed like much less of a delusion. Ranger was not a soldier, and he couldn't tell one just by looking at them, but her officerness had seemed quite dangerous with the gear the kid had given her. He hadn't missed the symbols of loyalty in the cloak and shield either. The whole thing seemed more serious now, like something big was about to happen.
"I must stress that this should be an instructional outing. While meat and pelts are useful, I am much more interested in improving their talents as scouts." The kid said, completely incapable of fun as usual.
"Yeah, I heard ya the first time." Ranger grumbled, he did understand but he didn't want to make this some boring lecture session.
The kid turns those strangely piercing eyes on Ranger. Whatever he was looking for he seems to find.
With a smile, he claps Ranger on the shoulder. "Forgive me, friend. I am simply nervous. I trust that you will teach them with all the skill you taught me."
"Yeah, sure. Ya're fine." Ranger said uncomfortably, truth be told what the kid had learned said more about his talent than Ranger's skill at teaching.
"Can we bring the horses along?" The officer, Anneth that was her name, asked.
"Why? Ya know they're only gonna get in the way." Ranger replied to her.
"We want to learn to track from horseback." The woman answered his question.
"Right" Ranger scoffed. "Look, somethin' ya're gonna need to accept is that ya can't. If ya want to track, ya've got to get close to the ground. Jus' get off the horse and back on. I know the kid's been teaching ya that leaping trick of his."
"Yes. You're right. Sorry." The girl says, bowing contritely.
Ranger rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, don't go actin' like that. It's no big deal. Don't take it personal."
The girl straightens up, nodding decisively.
Ranger led the group into the forest, skirting around anything truly dangerous. He searched for a place that would serve as a good instructional prop for a large number of people. He managed to find a sort of crossroad of animal tracks, not too far from the nearby stream. He stopped the group and turned to address them.
"Right, now we ain't here to practice yar fancy shootin' skills. This is the meat and bones of huntin'. Findin' the bastards." His gruff 'speech' gets a few chuckles. "What I want ya all to practice findin' the beasts. If ya see one, point it out don't shoot."
The group of students dispersed. Ranger sank down on a fallen branch. The problem was, he didn't have a good idea of what to teach them. He could always just take them hunting, 'ya learn by doing' as his pa had always said. Thing is, the kid had asked Ranger to teach them, and said he trusted him. Ranger would feel like he was letting the kid down if he didn't try at least.
Don't panic, Ranger thought to himself, I just need to focus on what I already know. He knew the kid wanted his horsemen, and women, to be skilled at scouting. He vaguely remembers being taught how to track animals by his father, but he has no confidence in his ability to recreate the lesson. Fortunately, he does know that scouting for an army is different than scouting for a small group. There is no need to study the subtle tracks someone leaves, as armies tend to leave enormous tracks only the blind would miss. A scout's job for an army is more about understanding and communicating how the land is laid out to their superiors. Ranger can do that, how hard could teaching it be?
The various warriors begin to congregate in front of him. They don't speak, waiting for him to call on them. Kid's big on discipline apparently.
"Right. Ya're all done?" Ranger asked.
Upon getting the quiet affirmative from everyone he continues. "All right, let's hear what ya found then."
The short version was that they had found nothing. Nobody here is a hunter, either by profession or hobby. A few people saw birds or things of that nature, but very little progress was made in this exercise generally.
"Right, well that was a bust. Luck for ya all trackin' animals ain't yar lives' callin's. We're gonna be coverin' how to mark terrain and how to describe it in a way that means somthin'." Ranger proclaims.
Ranger has a nagging feeling like he was on the verge of thinking up a truly great lesson. As it is he give an example of some terrain they passed and instructions on how to get there. His group of students then navigate their way back to the part he had mentioned. Once they had arrived, he addresses them once more.
"That was pretty easy, yeah?" He says, surveying the nods of agreement he gets back. "Well can ya imagine if instead of that, I had said 'the bright sapling a little bit past the pond'? Not much help, is it?"
There is a general motion of understanding, so Ranger begins to teach them how to communicate direction properly.
Ranger takes the group through the forest, making them explain how they got where they went and direct each other to things they had seen. It is a slow process, often favouring one person far above others. It is not deliberate on Ranger's part, but if someone does a bad job, it can take a while to resolve the issue. He will say that he is impressed by the determination of the group. There isn't any complaining about how long it's taking or of being bored.
After they have returned from their first day's trip into the forest, Anneth approaches Ranger.
"Excuse me, Mr. Ranger." She says awkwardly.
"Sweet Maker, jus' call me Ranger girlie." Ranger exclaims.
"Ranger, please do not call me girlie." Anneth frowns at her teacher. "I came to ask about tomorrows lesson."
"Oh yeah, I totally forgot I agreed to do another." Ranger massaged his temples.
"I was hoping that we might learn something a little different tomorrow. Perhaps something of concealing ourselves?" The warrior woman proposed.
"In those bright red capes of yours? Not likely." Ranger snarked.
"As you have so eloquently explained, we do not always have to go fully armed." Anneth countered.
Ranger did not want to be part of this conversation anymore. "Look I'll think about it."
"Thank you." Was the reply. "Mr Ranger."
Ranger glared at the woman's retreating back.
The girl has a point, despite her rudeness. Ranger thinks that teaching these youths how to not get noticed while scouting will probably keep them alive longer than armour will. It is this task that he intends to undertake during the second day. He figures a practical exercise will work far better than a lecture. Most of what he knows comes from experience rather than any fancy theory. So he figures he can probably just have them play a giant game of hide and seek, then point out what works and what doesn't.
He is not surprised by the objections he gets. Hide and seek is a children's game, after all.
"Look, it's not the same thing." He attempts to explain to the less than pleased soldiers. "I get that it's a kid's game, but that's only 'cause kids are bad at both findin' and hidin'. It's jus' an exercise."
"It is a waste of our time, we want to be taught meaningfully not treated like ignorant children." Anneth hisses
"Look, ya came to me wantin' to do this. This is what ya need to do." Ranger retorts defensively.
He is no great speaker, and it takes a lot of talking before they agree to at least have a go. He tells them to hide, and that he'll find them.
Finding the warriors proves easy. They have clearly never practiced hiding since their own childhoods, and they tend to stick out. Unfortunately, Ranger doesn't have a good way of explaining what they're doing wrong, he lacks the theoretical knowledge. He tries to demonstrate by taking a turn at hiding, but that only results in half an hour of frustrated searching that results in the students never finding him. It does not help that Ranger very nearly falls asleep waiting for them. The old hunter had placed a sharp rock somewhere to keep him from getting to comfortable, but it was still a near thing.
It should be clear then that nobody really learns anything of stealth. There is some benefit though, the time spent in the forest and the search was helpful in practicing the principles of scouting they had been learning previously. As a result the warriors are now basically competent scouts. Though not to the extent that he had been hoping, Nelyafinwë is content with their progress. He praises them for their learning and commiserates with Ranger on the difficulties of teaching. Ultimately nobody is unhappy, though things did not go the best they could have.
Endataurëo is in need of further room to grow. In order to do this, you need more fields. Fields or orchards that produce money or food are the backbone of expansion. You look over the forest surrounding your base and consider where best to place the next orchard. As before Faith and Wesley accompany you.
"If we put this by the other gate, we're going to be splitting our focus in two." Faith observes. "It might be safer if we put it near another field. Oh! Mil… sir."
"We need to patrol the entire wall to be safe anyway. We place the fields here." You answer her concerns.
Wesley has not commented so far, simply measuring out an appropriate area with a dreamy smile on his face. You assume he is once again daydreaming about his beloved and envy his ability to fulfill his task while his mind is elsewhere. You mark out the areas he has measured, taking careful note of what needs to be cleared and how long it is going to take. You are grateful that you are in a natural clearing and will not have to cut down any of the great trees common this deep in the woods. The marked area is mostly filled with scrub, weeds and grass.
The question on your mind is what you are going to plant. More grapes would allow you to make wine, though it would not be at the same quality without another week of training for the new vintners. You also want more food, both to speed up the growth of your reserve and to enable you to acquire more staff. The possibility of growing medicinal herbs appeals to you also. They are in high demand and fetch a good price, and they can also be used to treat illnesses and injuries. You can only really grow one of them, and you will need to pick up more people to work the fields. Perhaps you can do that while those who have the time begin clearing this one.
You have no desire to wrestle with the logistics of getting twice the production from a single wine press, nor do you want to purchase or build another. Between more food, which will allow you to increase your staff by potentially double or more, and medicinal herbs, which can be found wild or substituted for with magic, the choice is obvious. There is the additional concern that there is a very real deficit of food in this region, it would benefit everyone if you had more surplus to sell. That it would enable you to grow your stockpile significantly is also a factor in your decision.
"I believe it would be wisest to plant another fruit orchard." You inform Faith. "It will be best for our economic situation, potential growth and the state of our stores. Do we have anyone free to clear and plant, or will I need to recruit more people?"
"I think everyone is busy, sir." Faith replies calmly. "We managed with the vineyard since we'd already been using that area somewhat, so it was an easy clear. This is far more overgrown."
You nod. "Very well, you and Wesley may return to your duties. I will examine the land myself and decide how many workers to bring."
You walk through the marked area, before stopping and pulling up one of the scrub bushes. To your surprise, though it takes a great deal of strength, the plant comes up quickly. The roots spread far it seems, but not particularly deep. Examining the space in which it once stood you see far fewer weeds than you had expected. It seems the scrub out competes most of them. A quick examination of the soil reveals it to be of excellent quality, you will have to keep one of those bushes in case they are good for the soil.
As you walk the area some more, you quickly realise that there is a discrepancy. In your other field you would have hit the end by now. You use your steps to measure the space roughly. It seems that the walls on this side are longer than on the other. Due to Wesley's distraction he had not noticed. It is not quite enough for two fields, but it is larger. You step away from the marked area and stroke your chin. On further thought, you might be able to fit in enough plants for two fields, with a bit of creative laying out. You could also grow a second crop at the same time, though that would probably weaken the food harvest. You could also just make a field that was slightly larger, easier to work in.
You find Faith and explain your plan to her. Though it is tempting to use the extra space for extra food, you can always make more orchards. You give her a brief rundown on the structure of the medicinal herb patches at the base of fruit trees. You give a brief description of the kind of herbs she should be looking for.
"Would Xandar know these herbs by sight? Or Merrill, I guess. Sir that is." Faith asks you.
"An excellent idea. Have Xandar accompany whomever you send to fetch the seed plants. It will be excellent training for him. I will ride for the local villages to recruit people to man the orchard." You instruct your steward.
"Of course, sir." Faith curtseys as you stride away.
You fear that if anyone were ever to peer into your thoughts, they would assume them both repetitive and self-absorbed. Every time you take Orundómë anywhere connected by your roads, you find yourself marvelling at the speed at which you travel. It is hardly your fault; you have ridden swift horses but never one that compares to the lord of horses. You arrive at Lannerch after little more than two hours riding. There is a fair going on, which is an annoyance. If you were here for any other purpose, it might be useful but as it stands it is simply a distraction that means there are few workers around to choose from.
You spend your time walking around the fair, talking to people who look like farmers. You do not act as though you are soliciting workers, though you are. Instead, you ask about local conditions, members of their families and other such casual conversation. As a result you get a thorough picture, including names and descriptions, of people who currently need work. In the list is a set of five names you were lucky to find.
You had been speaking to a guard, who had told you that her sister's husband had been unable to make his rent thanks to the Teyrn's taxes. The local noble had not cared and evicted the family of five. They are currently in a cell for the next few hours, due to 'drunk and disorderly behaviour'.
Entering the holding cells proves to be far easier than you had feared. The guards are all resentful of missing the fair. Simply promising to watch the prisoners for a while sees you alone in the building near the barracks. There are a few people in cells, a man with only one shoe singing a ribald tune and a few young sons of merchants there for duelling. You are only interested in the family of five squashed into a single cell.
"Are you the humans who are related to Anna-Gloria?" You ask the glaring young man by the cell door.
"What's it to you, elf." The boy sneers.
"I was told you were in some distress that I might be able to assist in." You inform him.
The middle aged man somewhere in the middle of the cell speaks up. "I'm William, Elizabeth's husband. What do you want?"
"Excellent, I had feared I came all this way for nothing." You bring one of the guard's stools over to the cell and sit down. "I am told you are a farmer currently in need of work. I happen to own a small piece of land in the forest that is in dire need of cultivation. I am willing to pay 70 coppers a day for your labour and assure you that there is food and space enough for all of you."
The man looks at you suspiciously. "So, we're to just follow you into the forest and hope you're telling the truth?"
You shrug. "You can continue to assault guards and rely on the mercy of your wife's family if you prefer. I am not sure your father in law will be willing to cover for you a second time personally, but it is your choice."
The truth of the matter is that the family has little choice in the matter, and both William and you know it. You escort them back to Endataurëo, learning their names on the way. The children are named Henry, Steven and Mary. You show them the field and explain what they are to do. There is some suspicion about giving you the entirety of the produce, but they accept for now. You make sure to spend the rest of the week talking to them. They are amazed by Endataurëo, and are quickly infected by the atmosphere of positivity that you have cultivated. By the end of the week they are as dedicated to your base as Gladesville is to their village.
You are concerned. You had expected Ursular last week and she had not arrived. You are concerned by thoughts of the spiders, or bandits on the road. As the merchants who buy food pass through and Martin asks if he should be taking the new batch of wine around to sell, you find yourself looking to the horizon, worried for the beardless dwarf and what might have happened to her. The merchants notice your concern and ask after its origin. They reassure you that such delays are to be expected, and hardly uncommon. This is not as comforting as they might have hoped.
Martin takes the majority of your wine and leaves for distant parts. He shall sell your newly produced fine wine and acquire the items you have requested him to. You sell most of your food, and a few barrels of fine wine, to the merchants who pass through as part of the Irregular Hexagon of Trade. You keep a single barrel of the fine wine for yourself, and also your staff. You only add a very small amount of your excess food to the stores, you will be enjoying significantly increased food production before too much longer, so there is no need to save every scrap of food.
Your worries for the dwarf Usrsualar are eased when your guards report sighting her on the road. Your concern then proceeds to leap to new heights when you actually see the caravan. The number of dwarves is maybe half that of what you had seen last time and, of those who remain, the majority are heavily injured. You suspect that if it were not for the natural hardiness of their kind more would be dead.
"You! Fetch Merrill and Xandar! You two go with him and help them bring any medical supplies they need. Anneth, with me! Be ready for a potential attack!" You cry, speeding to the stables.
You and Anneth race out from the gates on horseback. Your red cloaks stream behind you as you both lean over your respective horse's necks. The two of you make it to the caravan in good time, they are not far away.
The dwarves are looking at you in surprise, but you ignore that. "Is there danger near?"
Ursular barks a bitter laugh. "'Fraid not, cloudscraper. You've ridden out here for nothing."
You relax slightly. "I would rather overreact to nothing than underreact to true danger. Besides, we have not ridden for nothing. We can escort you the rest of the way, the forest has its own dangers after all."
You escort the caravans within the walls of Endataurëo. Merrill and Xandar have been brought as you instructed, with enough supplies to treat everyone. You ask them to take the wounded to the houses of healing. You insist on offering Ursular and her people a drink after they refuse your offers of food.
"This is good. Really good." Ursualr stares at her glass in wonder. "This is proper stuff, where'd you get it?"
"It was made here." You inform your guest. "I would offer to sell you some but I am afraid demand is high, and it is all gone."
"Stone take it." Ursular mutters under her breath.
Merrill and Xandar tend to the injured while you talk to Ursular.
"What exactly happened to you? You are late, and so heavily injured." You inquire.
"Just unlucky I'm afraid." Ursular says, sipping at the wine you have granted her. "Deep roads have been pretty clear of late, it's why I took the chance on coming here in the first place. We were on our way, nothing we didn't expect. Then out of nowhere this flood of darkspawn came down on top of us. Thought we were dead, but they seemed like they were trying to get away from something. We managed to hole up and let them pass."
Pangs of guilt stab at your heart. "I am sorry, I believe that may have been my fault. The week after you left I encountered a number of Darkspawn in the forest. After their leader fell the rest fled into the forest, and I could not find them."
Ursular gives you an annoyed look. "There's no way you drove off that many darkspawn."
You resist the urge to fiddle with one of your braids. "Perhaps not, but panic is an insidious disease. Most of those you saw were likely fleeing because others of their kind were doing so."
Ursular snorts, clearly still not believing you. "You gonna buy anything, cloudscraper."
"I fear that while there are a number of things I would like to buy, I fear my money is largely earmarked for other purposes right now." You apologise. "I hope that has not made your trip a waste, especially given all that you have experienced getting here."
Ursular sighs. "It's fine, even if those Dalish don't pay in coin they're happy to trade in furs for Lyrium. Furs are pretty pricey back home; it gets cold underground. I ain't gonna scarper just cause things are getting hairy." She takes a look at the disappearing injuries of her companions. "'Sides you just saved me a pretty penny in injury pay."
"I am glad to hear it, out hexagon of trade would be much diminished should you depart." You tell her earnestly.
"Might be a while till I'm back this way though." Ursular comments. "So if I don't show up in three weeks don't panic. Lyrium ain't exactly easy to get your hands on."
Ursular downs the last of her wine, then wanders off to speak to the healers. You are left with your thoughts for now.