(514-01-25) White Stag Sighting
Summary: A few folks overhear about the sighting of a white stag nearby
Date: 514.01.25
Related: NA
aeron maerwynn gwion sirkay 

There is a light snow this time of year. Not enough to worry about flooding around the rivers with a quick thaw if it warms a little, but enough to dust the ground. Giving a hint of mud, of course, to the ways in Sarum. The markets still in swing, trading to be done, animals to be bought and sold. There is traffic here. A bald, chubby man has some sheep, thickening with winter wool, looking to sell one or two, there is a man, with a winter beard growing, in a leather jerkin, woolen hood himself. He's animated as he speaks with the other selling the sheep. The man in the jerkin looks expressive as he talks, his hands pointing out west. The bald man scrunching his brows a little.

"What, like that giant beaver you saw up near Wylye?"

A shake and a point, "No, I'm tellin' ya, was a white stag, 10 points at least on its rack. I was foraging for asparagus south of the river, and I looked up. There it was, fogging a storm of a breath. A hearbeat it looked at me and walked off like I didn't matter."

The bald man of course harrumphs a little, "This isn't like the winged dog you saw near Tisby?"

At her own booth is Maerwyn, the healer set up to sell some extra tonics and such she's put together, along with herbs she's got extra. Willing to tell people how to prepare them as needed to tend to the little things that might come up. Listening to the nearby men, she hides a smile, perhaps with some knowledge of that white stag being discussed. Or the story behind it.

At a nearby booth, Gwion exchanges a small coin for a hot ear of corn that was just pulled out of the roasting pot. His gloved hands make easy work of the silk and husk covering, and he smiles to himself as the steam pours out. Then, with the corn halfway to his mouth, he pauses and takes a quick glance over at the men discussing what they've seen. The talk of the White Stag catches his attention, and he moves to a spot between two booth so he can eat his corn without getting snow in his mouth, and to be able to hear what they are saying.

In through the west gate of Sarum rides Aeron, atop his rouncy, with his squire in tow and a packhorse ladden for travel being led along behind the squire. The mounted knight offers a few moments look over the market square before moving to dismount, signaling his squire to go on ahead to the castle without him.

The two of course carry on.

"I swear, white stag, its a thing. More so then flying dogs and giant beavers," returns the man in the leather jerkin, "But come one, you've heard of that beaver for a number of years, just no one has caught it yet. But that stag …"

"Now no, Hynwen, I'm sure you saw something, but a white stag, that big …. I don't think I can buy it." He turns from other, "Sheep, two sheep, pence on the pound!" Trying to hawk the sheep, get some food for home at least, some supplies, and the like.

Hynwen waits for him to hawk the moment, but picks right up, leaning against someone's pavilion pole a moment, "Sure ya can, cause its a thing. Tymor saw it just the other week, was running his story outside the gate most of the day. Same one. Walked south of Burcombe into the woods that aways, not the Earl's woods either, he's just waiting for someone to come and claim him. If I had a bow …" Wistfully.

The bald man laughs, "Ya, you'd shoot yer foot, you ain't no good with a bow, not half as much as you are good at spinning a yarn, and that sir, was not spun at all." He shakes his head, rubs his portly belly.

Maerwynn checked her recognize of 5, she rolled 9. (-5 for local profession in said woods: Success)

Maerwynn finally decides to speak up, the healer leaning forwards, "Hynwen is right. I've seen it a few times out while gathering herbs. He's a big stag, pure white… but I'd be careful about trying to hunt him." So says the pagan woman. As another woman walks by, she pauses in her conversation to speak with her about the proper use of certain herbs steeped in a tea to help with a cough. A price is haggled, and soon the woman walks off with her small bag filled, leaving the healer to once more speak again, "I've seen him off and on over the years, same as my mother.."

Gwion takes a bite of the coney and chews thoughtfully, trying to remember if he has heard stories such as this before. Not being a forest type, he can't seem to place it at first, but then something comes to him. He mulls it over a moment, partially astounded that he actually had any recollection at all. It isn't much, but the thought is enough to keep him standing there and insterested for the time being.

Aeron checked his folklore of 2, he rolled 6.

White stags? Aeron's head cants a bit as he nears the two debating about the existance of a white stag, he generally just gives a bit of a shrug at that, but does nod his head towards the familiar Maerwynn as he nears the stand.

"See Bytrum, she has the right of it," says Hynwen pointing to Maerwynn.

Bytrum nearly comments, starts even, "I'd believe it if my own two eyes had the chance …" Then someone comes up, could use a few sheep, has stored some produce and the two beging to barter price or exchange at least. Hynwen is lost betwen him and Maerwynn for the moment. But when she is done, he turns to her, "Why not hunt him? Something dangerous out there. I bet its those stone chickens I heard about, turn a man to stone." Forget any symbolism in the stag itself, he still sees it as a prize. But he's more prone to listen to Maerwynn, her and her mother can affirm his sighting at least now. "He always there, them woods to the south?" As if he'll mount his own hunting party, he has no weapon to hunt with .

"You never know what you might see out there.." Maerwyn answers before smiling a little at mention of those chickens. "He's there.. and other places as well. The woods are his.." It's then that a young girl comes up to her all in a fluster, "Healer Maerwynn! Come quick, come quick.. mum's in a bad way with the baby!" Wasting no time, she gathers what she has, putting things into a pack careful of bottles and delicate items, "Gentleman.." She offers to those that she was speaking with before excusing herself and hurrying after the young girl.

As Maerwynn leaves, Gwion tilts his head towards her, even though he has not actually spoken to the woman. "You should make sure you have an official with you, to make sure the Earl's laws are not broken, if you are going to hunt the forests," He says, wiping his mouth with his gloved hand, feeling a bit of grease in the corner.

With a wave to Maerwynn the same, Hynwen turns to regard the other. Then he comes up more straight, a bow of his head, "Me lord." A hint of fluster in his voice, "Certainly sir, wouldn't think of it otherwise." He's completely on the up and up. A beat skipped, he leans in, one brow lifting, "You wouldn't be one of those officials, keep it level, can go look ourselves and see if the forest king is still there?"

Aeron continues on his way through the market, probably getting something or another, but soon is on his way past, heading off towards the castle itself!

There is a sudden, slight, but brief look of panic on Gwion's face as he is asked about the forest. "No, not me. I am but a Knight, not a forrester, Reeve, or huntsman." He wipes the transferred grease from his gloves to the back of his trousers. "But we employ a rather good huntsman who knows the laws through-and-through, if you would like his services." Glancing to see who is listening, he adds, "Though I would not refuse riding along for a while."

Hynwen considers that, nodding, it sounds great. Then a pause, "Me lord, I think its well out … the price of such a service. I can certainly gather wood for your home, if you wish, but I dare to think how much wood I must haul to afford joining a hunstman in such a glorious quest as a white stag." He sighs a little, "Unless, I suppose I could show you the area, for a penny. You could go out with your hunstman, make sure its all legal and what not … make a fine prize for a lady, a pelt as white as that …"

"Or an Earl." Gwion says thoughtfully, "As I would go along, I would not have him charge you for your guide service. I would be willing to pay the penny, and provide you with a meal, if you so wish it."

A consideration about that, Hynwen scratches his head for a moment. "Well, me lord, I think that's an idea right there." He looks around, not seeing anything odd at the moment, his sheep herding pal long gone with his sales. A nod as he brings his eyes back to Gwion, "Right then, I am in for this. What say you, we convine tomorrow, noon. You get this huntsman, whatever else you need, I take care of my business in the walls, then I lead you out that way tomorrow?" A purse of his lips, "Or I meet you near Wilton?"

"Near Wilton," Gwion responds, resolutely moving from the spot between the stalls. "I am Sir Gwion of Newton, and you are?"

With another nod of his head as he introduces himself, the man waits a moment, then rises to meet the other square in the eye. "Hynwen …of Wilton. I only come this way to trade for what I need." By way of explanation. "I'll offer a prayer tonight, bring us luck in finding this stag. I'm sure your warden will know enough to track it maybe, once we find the area. It is me pleasure lord, to be of assistance." A free meal goes along way of course.

Gwion crosses himself as the man says 'say a prayer' and nods his head reverently for a moment.

Gwion crosses himself as the man says 'say a prayer' and nods his head reverently for a moment. "I will as well," he says, "Though for safety and for good weather. What will happen, will happen, with the stag." He claps the man on the shoulder and starts on his way to the stables to head home after his business in the village.

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