After the usual morning exercises and swim Fiontann walked through the hamlet towards the new building. It took one who week of building and trasplanting the trees and now it was ready for use. He stopped in the yard, among the trees. And looked around. As always when thinking his right hand came up to stroke his beard, but it wasn’t there. He changed his looks. He had shaven completely and cut his hair short. He felt exposed and now in the autumn his head and face felt also cold. He didn’t like this feeling and every time looked in the mirror he felt uncomfortable, especially if he’d add his new clothes. Leather trousers and long coat, brown and blue with a blue scarf and sometimes a brown long brimmed hat with a feather. He grunted when he first tried it all on. There was no sign of proper armour on them, in contrast to his usual clothes these ones were solely made of leather, which was reinforced and doubled around the shoulders and a little on the chest maybe. He felt exposed. At least he always has his sword with him.
He looked around the yard, through the trees and at the building itself, then at the newly installed forge and at the oven across it, he turned around to look at the fertilised patch of land for farming and at the tent for the mushrooms. He nodded to himself, mentally commenting those that worked for it, Gregwald among them. A man who looks lazy at first sight but when he arrived asking for work and actually worked he surprised Fion pleasantly. The man was punctual and good at his work. A good man to have around if things need to be done. He walked up the stairs and in the building, after the plainly decorated ante-chamber he stopped next to a pillar to look at the metalworking stalls first, to his right. They would be filled with farming tools and horseshoes, pots and pans, maybe a sword or two and who knows what else. Across those would be the produce stalls, vegetables and fruits, even baked goods straight from the oven and of course the produce from the patch of land outside, some bookcases with recipes or instructions for farming were placed too. In the middle, in front of the stage, was placed the woodworking bench with a small bench for sitting with books with instructions and advices as to what wood should be used for what. On the stage would be the spits and a table with refreshments and across the stage the area with the drinks from all over. Mead, Ale, Beer, Wine and much more, local, from Bree’s brewers as well as from the Shire and from Dwarves, even Elves should the opportunity arise.
The next room with the reinforced door and walls, in order to keep all sounds outside, would be the room for Study, the walls are filled with bookcases. Books that cover history, wars, the land and its people, the races and more cover the shelves and two desks stand across each other on either side of the room. Fion then went upstairs, at his office. He looked at the desk and the parchments, the bookshelves and the maps. Finally he stood in front of the fireplace. The fire was eating noisily at the logs and Fion stood there with his hands clasped on his back. Many thoughts filled his head.
Will this work?
What am I now?
A trader?
An innkeeper?
A simple law abiding resident?
No, I am a sellsword. I’ll always be a sellsword. No matter what I do.
But if this works it’ll bring the community together, we need to be united.
We have to work together to prosper.
Help and support each other.
The fire flickered in his eyes. He drew his greatsword and looked at it.
Am I laying my weapons aside?
No, of course not! The fight never ends!
I cannot let my guard down.
I am just trying to help the community.
And I am lucky to have Cedwyn and my friends here. Their support means a lot to me.
The sword will still be in my hand. I will swing it again when the time comes.
He sheathed the sword and walked outside. He locked the door and walked to the Thirsty Boar, eager for some mead and to see if the posters were on their way.
