Immalaine looks up the road, seeing the small cabin in the clearing and, despite being weary from the days walk, she decides to try the door. It's been two days now that she hassought Rastellion's uncle and she curses herself for not having paid more attention to him as he spoke of his family.
Stepping up to the door, she sets down her bag and bow before raising her hand to knock. As she waits, she looks around, noting a pile of wood off the side of the house that still needed splitting, as well as several hanging to be cured. It seemed that she may have finally found the right, but she refused to get her hopes up again.
She tries knocking a second time, and waits for some sign of life from within. Rubbing her arms against the evening's chill, she's ready to give up when she hears a gruff voice call out behind her. " 'Ere, you! Whatcha skulking around the for, lad? This here's my cabin! Be off with ya!"
Turning around, Immalaine sees a large man standing there, a fresh bear hide on his back and a string of conies in is hand. Dropping them, he reaches for his bow, fumbling to nock an arrow as she jumps back, calling out to the stranger. "Wait! please ..."
The man pauses on hearing the voice, and as she turns he squints to get a better look at her. "Not lad, but lass, is it?" He says with a frown. "What're you doin' out here at my cabin?" he asks again, still suspicious.
Immalaine bristles at the term lass, but remains calm. "I'm lookin' fer the uncle o' a friend. His name's Rastellion." she pauses, her hand poised near her dagger in case she needs it.
The man frowns. "Friend o' yours sent you out here, alone?" He snorts. "Not much o' a friend. So what's this uncle's name; p'raps I know the man." he says, as he seemingly relaxes slightly, still keeping his finger on the arrow's fletching.
Shaking her head, Immalaine shrugs. "I dunno, Rastellion he ne'er said. But he said he lived out this way, and that his pa lived wit' him ... an' please sir, I've been lookin' fer 2 days now." Her shoulders slump a little, thinking it seemed likely she had the wrong house – yet again.
The fellow takes a moment to consider her words. "So, this friend o' yours didn't send you, then? Yer here on yer own?" He takes a sudden step forward, voice growing sharp. "The lad's not hurt, is he?"
Immalaine, finding herself pressed against the door, moves back. "No ... no sir, nothin' like that. It's jus' ... well, he talked alot 'bout his pa needin' help farmin', once he got a new plot o' land an' all. An' that's what I'm good at ... farmin', and cookin'" she looks up at him, refraining from saying aloud that it was all she was good at.
Finally convinced that Immalaine is no threat, the man reachesdown to retrieve his pack. "So... lemme see," he says, starting back up the path. "Yer friend said his pa would need help farmin' a plot o' land as he didn't even own yet, and you took it into yer head t' ride out here, past all these orcs, t' find some man ya didn't even know and offer t' farm a plot o' land he didn't even have?" He pauses at the base of the stairs, looking up at the girl. "Now why by Angmar's cursed towers would ye do somethin' so daft?" He frowns, studying her.
Immalaine frowns back, sighing as she looks at the ground. " 'Cause, sir, it's all Rastellion e'er talked 'bout, was how his pa would need help wit' the new farm. An' I really am good at farmin'. Besides, ain't got no ties or nothin' so ..."
The man takes a long look at her, then sighs and starts up the stairs. "Well, I s'ppose you'd best come in then, lass. Gettin' on toward night, after all, an' can't have ya' out here as warg-bait." He unlocks the cabin's door with a thick key hung at his waist and gestures her inside. "C'mon, then... in with ya."
Reaching down, Immalaine picks up her bag and bow from the ground, and kicks the dirt and grass from her shoes before entering the house.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
