Brokenthorn Lumber, Inc.

[Axeheart]

This thread occurs, chronologically, about a week after the end of this quest (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=2919). Also, Mac is an alter-ego of Shenjara(if you get my meaning) who may swear from time to time. Anyone who may be offended by the less vulgar curses, please add them to your filters.

A week had past since the bandit situation. Miraculously, the three companions had managed to come out of that situation alive, although not necessarily with intact hides. Shenjara, the flame-red haired half-elven girl was still tending to Mac's arm every time they rested. Mac was grateful for her help, gladly accepting the offer, as anyone with a true sense of honor would.

It hurt more than anything he had ever experienced, the poison not having killed him due to his hardy Dwarven ancestry, while still potent enough to wreak havoc on his body. Although he had become accustomed to pain, this was unbearably immense. "Good thing the girl took her survival training." he muttered to himself every time she left his side, having checked the wound for signs of deterioration.

She was an attractive woman for someone of another race, another species. It went deeper than the elven trait that made her a comely girl, it was her force of will that called to him. He had come to learn about the chaos the girl was forced to endure, the overwhelming power she commanded. The power which threatened to engulf her if she let her guard down for more than an moment. She was a powerful creature, manacled by her own willpower. After having seen, first-hand, the devastation such power could unleash, he was honored to be in the presence of so enduring a person.

The three of them had recently entered a village not so far from Brokenthorn Forest's southern parts. They had stayed there a couple of days to help Mac heal from his injury, but without the aid of a proper physician, the process was slow and painful. The village was not too small, he figured it was little smaller than his clan, and it seemed to be entirely dependant on the forest. The food came from beasts native to the forest, and the homes were all made of wood from the trees of Brokenthorn. If Shen lost control here, this entire village would suffer.

It was around midday, and the three of them were dining upon bread and cheese purchased from the "tavern" for a song and a poem from that old tome the strange one carried. "What was his name? Kishurin, I think....I'll have to ask Shen next time she looks at my arm. He thought, wincing from a sudden pain as he thought of his arm. Damn thing wont give me a break. Heh, at least it didn't break. I'd rather it hurt like hell than be useless. He chuckled at his joke, finding it funny. He shook his head, tore off and ate some bread, and downed it with some ale he had gotten for an old Dukrav ditty. It was good ale, but the song was better....

[hamnat]

Shenjara had found the Dukrav's song to be quite a good one. If she hadn't been watching Mac carefully to make sure he didn't get hurt, she probably would've begun dancing with Kishurin. She did not, however, accept the ale he offered her. She found it easier to maintain one's faculties, and keep the wounded from worsening, much easier when not inhibited by alcohol. She let him keep the drink, as it would help numb the pain in his arm, which in turn would mean less squirming when she looked at his arm.

The guard had sliced him badly with that dagger. Add to that a powerful poison and the results aren't good. Kishurin managed to avenge his comrade's honor when he planted an arrow square in the middle of the brigand's forehead. She was a bit squeamish when she saw his arrow protruding from the guy’s head, but she managed to recover from the sight.

Shen took a bite of her bread, savoring the wheat flavor of the small loaf. It was good bread when fresh, and she had gotten enough bread and other rations for a couple of weeks. She had gotten it for a bargain in the traditional village method of business, a song her mother used to sing. It was not as fast as Mac’s song had been, nor as light-hearted, but it soothed the soul. The merchant must have thought it a good song, because his original price for all the items had been two songs, four poems, and a limerick.

Shenjara looked towards the center of the village, where a tall wooden pole stood. It looked like a short tree, devoid of branches or knotholes. On the pole were hundreds of sheets of parchment and paper, of all sizes. She stood up as she noticed that the village was filled with a murmur from a crowd of people around the pole. From what she’d noticed so far, there was usually only a couple of people reading the Pole’s notices.

“Hey guys, something’s up. The villagers seem to be interested in one of the notes. I’m gonna go check it out.”

[Kishurin]

Kishurin, who had been leaning his chair back against the wall, sat up and looked towards the post. He agreed that the sight was strange from what he'd noticed about the village so far.

"I'm coming with you." He called after Shenjara as he stood up. He followed her over there, attempting to see over the crowd of people. As he began an attempt to push his way through, he heard several gasps, a few mothers beginning to cry, and many men who felt enraged begin to exhibit their anger.

He and Shen had managed to get close enough to the post to read a notice what the town was in an uproar over. There, on the post was virtually a death-sentence for the village.



From the office of
Brokenthorn Lumber, Inc.
ATTENTION VILLAGERS!!!
Your village has been noted as a dependant of Brokenthorn Forest and we are offering jobs to all strong men as laborers for nearby lumber mills.

There are several positions open, including, but not limited to:
Lumberjack
Mill-laborer
Foreman
Managerial positions
Engineer
Construction-worker
etc.

The wages are reasonable for both parties, and your village would profit greatly from such an enterprise.

Any one interested in any positions would do well to contact our Personnel Services and Management representatives, who can be found in your respective tavern or inn sometime within the next week.

Any complaints may be made out to the Brokenthorn Lumber Public Service Department, with a reply within 3-6 weeks.

Brokenthorn Lumber, Inc. is not responsible for any injury, illness, or other form of harmful occurance experienced while upon corporate property.

All land within two miles of the forest edge will become private property, belonging to Brokenthorn Lumber, Inc.

Anyone caught trespassing upon corporate land will be prosecuted and dealt with as deemed worthy by Brokenthorn Lumber Security Offices.

Brokenthorn Lumber, Inc., All rights reserved.

Kishurin looked over at Shenjara, hoping to see what she would think of this, but she was not there. He turned around to see her running into the inn, her right hand raised to her face, and her left hand raised to her chest. She appeared to be crying...

[Axeheart]

Mac stood up as Shenjara ran past him in a fit of tears. He walked over to Kishurin with a puzzled look on his face. "What's wrong with her? She's crying really hard right now."

He could tell something was seriously wrong. Women don't just begin crying spontaneously, and definently not with the force of her sobs. As he walked over to the crowd, it began to disperse, making Mac's passage easier. As he walked up to the post, he saw the notice, which was indeed disturbing news, but not worthy of the reaction Shenjara had. "By the beards, what is wrong with her? It's bad for these people, but she doesn't live here, does she?"

[hamnat]

Having run up to the room they had been given for their stay, Shenjara let herself feel fear. Fear for the well-being of every villiage within sight of Forest's Edge. Fear for the livelihood of those living in Brokenthorn itself. Fear for her parents. Her father, a human, had not been young when Shenjara was born. By now, he had grown quite old by human standards, and wouldn't be able to support himself and mother if this was allowed to happen.

The forest they had come to call home would be destroyed as food for the sawblades of the lumbermills. Her village had grown almost completely dependant on the surrounding forest, and wouldn't know how to cope with the outside world. Shenjara barely knew what to do, herself. She had lived a sheltered childhood with her mother, her father out making sure his family was fed. She hadn't been very adventurous when she was young, not even making much contact with the other village children. She'd been a timid girl, very dependant on her mother.

Shenjara pulled herself together, wiping a tear from her cheek. Nothing would come of her sitting here, crying like this. She knew something had to be done. What that would be, however, was a completely different matter. Would she try complaining? No. From what she'd heard of the outside world from the elders, people of power rarely cared to listen to anyone unless what the person had to say would profit them in some way. The people running the corporation would not listen to her.

She would have to do something else. Perhaps sabatoge? Sabatoging one of the sawmills wouldn't do much, but it would get attention. If, somehow, she could get the attention of both the Scarabrian villagers and the corporation, she would be able to try to keep the corporation from destroying the forest, and much of Scarabrian peace in the process. This would definently create some measure of chaos on the peaceful island.

[Axeheart]

Walking up the stairs, carefully to avoid hurting his arm, Mac looked towards the door of the room. The room they stayed in had two beds, enough for two to sleep while one was the entirely unnecessary watch. The watch had been the girl's idea. She was a bit paranoid, but she had encountered bandits quite a few times in her travels.

He knocked a few times, softly to avoid alarming her. He asked through the door, "Hey, Shenjara. You a'right in there?" He was a little concerened about her; she had been sobbing powerfully when she past him. "Can I come in, lass? To talk about it, or somat like tha'?" From his experiences with saddened women in his clan, it helped to listen to they felt like saying. Many a lass had he had seen turned from tears to grins just by listening and talking. He hadn't been very good at it, himself, but when a need arises for help, the honorable rise to meet the need.

[hamnat]

Hearing the Dukrav's caring words, Shenjara could not help but feel even slightly comforted. She felt a little better than she had a few moments before. "No, I'm...I'm fine now. Thank you for your concern."

She walked over to the door and opened it, looking down to see Mac's concerned face. "Im quite alright, really. I just got a little bit emotional is all." She said, smiling as if to try and affrim her words. "How about we go downstairs and start asking some questions about this Brokenthorn Lumber corporation? Maybe we can do something about it."

Shenjara didn't show it, but she was going to be adamant about making sure these people didn't do what she hoped would never happen. She was also quite sure that there were others who felt the same as she. A little help can go a long way, and she may have needed it in the end.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.