At A Distance

Garrett wakes to the smell of a warm horse and the weight of sword's point on his breastbone. "Answer me, man. Be you a hero or a wizard?" The voice is cautious, but doesn't seem immediately hostile. While Garrett is exhausted, he can, if he wishes, open his eyes.

Another test? Garrett takes mental inventory of every aching muscle before moving. His entire body feels like stone, except for the all-over soreness and fatigue. Slowly, he opens his eyes, then snaps them shut against the glaring sun that sears through his head like the hangover he once had from drinking Weed's father's homemade rotgut.

"Hero," Garrett croaks, his voice hoarse with thirst. It seems the safer answer. He squints upward, keeping his hands in plain view on the ground beside him. "Who's asking?"

The sword pulls up, but Garrett can still smell the tip. "I'm Red Fox Claws, and I'm doing the asking." The voice sounds old, which makes sense. The old man seems competent with a sword, but looks as if he should be sitting by a fire somewhere. "Do you have a job, hero? Or a name? Who are you serving?"

Garrett ventures rising up onto his elbows, slowly and non-threateningly, mostly holding back a wince as the headache pounds harder. He keeps his hands far away from his weapons (assuming they haven't been taken from him).

"Garrett," he responds. He glances around at the unfamiliar surroundings before continuing. "I serve no one but myself at the moment." Turning his gaze up to the old man, he asks, "You wouldn't have any water on you, would you?"

Red Fox Claws gestures the horse over with his free hand and gets a waterskin, which he hands to Garrett. He manages to do it without ever dropping his guard with the blade, too.

Garrett takes the waterskin and sits up slowly. He drinks deeply, soothing his parched throat. Silently, he wonders how long he slept.

"Nice horse," he comments appreciatively as he hands the waterskin back to Red Fox Claws. He cocks his head, examining the animal. "He's what, five... six years old?" he asks, looking back at the old man.

[What sort of tack does the horse have? Full battle gear, bareback, or somewhere in between? Anything Garrett would recognize?]

[The tack is similar to that shown in this photo. Garrett has seen similar tack before--there are only so many variants--but not this exact kind.]

Red Fox Claws takes a drink from the skin. "We have shared water," he intones ceremonially.

Garrett nods once slowly, wondering about what contract that signifies.

Then he adds by way of answering Garrett's question, "Six, almost seven. He comes from good stock. He might outlive me if I'm not careful."

Garrett chuckles. He starts to rise cautiously, watching for signs that he won't be allowed to, and continues the small talk. "Local or imported?" he asks.

"He is a Hero's horse, not a strange thing called by a Tower Lord," Red Fox Claws explains. "Sometimes Lords ride strange things that seem to be horses, but they aren't."

"Oh? Huh," Garrett perks up at that, but appears to shove the question aside in favor of another. "So where do you fit into the 'Hero-Wizard' world, Red Fox Claws?"

"I was a Hero when I was younger. Now I might teach a young hero, but my days of heroing are done. If I were to fight a Wizard in his tower, that'd be the end of me." Red Fox Claws doesn't seem to be moving to stop Garrett from coming to his feet.

Garrett finishes the journey to his feet and dusts himself off. He gazes around at his surroundings and the horizon beyond. "How often do these wizards show up? Or do you have to go to their towers to run into them?" he asks.

[OOC - What's the landscape look like here?]

[OOC: Plains, plains, and more plains.]

"Some travel and raid. Others hole up in their towers," Red Fox Claws explains. " Sometimes they go to war with each others, and ask Heroes and their bands to serve in the battles. When I was young, I served the Tower Lord Signy in her war against the Tower Lord Weyland. But she went into the tower to parley with him and he betrayed and defeated her." A shadow falls over his expression at the telling of this memory.

"Weyland?" Garrett asks, his brows suddenly furrowing with interest. "I've heard that name. What do you know about him?"

"He was the lord of one of the Towers. A crafter and a maker of weapons for Heroes. He abandoned his Tower many years ago, and it still stands. If the legends are true, it's full of treasures he left behind." Red Fox Claws watches Garrett assessingly as he speaks.

"Hmm...," Garrett grunts, pondering the description. Then he grins at the old man, glances down at his own bare-chested, dirty form and throws up his hands in resignation. "Well. I'm not in any condition to hunt for treasure now."

He gazes out over the horizon, blue eyes squinting into the sunshine. "So where'd you come from, Red Fox Claws?" he asks, changing the subject. "I can't see any houses for miles."

[By the way, is Garrett missing anything that he started his walk with? Weapons, trumps, that sort of thing?]

[If he had any sketches, they're gone. Full trumps survived. He doesn't appear to have been stripped of gear otherwise.]

Red Fox Laws laughs. "Houses what? I'm a Hero, not a settled man in thrall to a Tower Lord. This is my house." He jerks a thumb at his horse, which has a bedroll and saddlebags as part of its tack. "You'll need one too, if you mean to live on the plains. Or do you mean to become a settled man?"

Something that Red Fox Claws says strikes a chord with Garrett. He cocks his head thoughtfully and regards the older man with an appraising eye. "No," he says, finally and firmly. "I don't mean to become a settled man. Not yet. I have too much to do."

He walks a few steps away from Red Fox Claws and regards the windblown grasses stretching off into the distance. "I'm not exactly sure how I arrived here. I was following a herd of horses and... it got dark," he lies rather than trying to explain the real circumstance. His voice is distant, as if he's speaking while concentrating on something else.

"There was one... that looked like he'd spooked from someone. He was saddled, with gear." As Garrett speaks, he concentrates on the flowing grasses, trying to see the horse he describes. Trying to make it appear, as he remembers the explanations of his brother and others. He continues to walk along slowly, scanning the plains, listening. "If I could get close enough, I'm sure I could catch him."

Red Fox Claws follows Garrett, his horse in tow. They move along for perhaps ten or fifteen minutes in the high grass, and come up over a slight rise. There, below, in a slight low place, is a horse, with saddle and gear as he's described. Amber-style. They can see its head and its back above the top of the grasses.

"That it?" Red Fox Claws asks Garrett.

Garrett grins widely, his eyes never leaving the horse. "Yeah. That's the one," he says softly.

Taking his time, Garrett moves around to place himself upwind of the animal. He does not want to startle it again and if it smells him before it sees him, all the better. He speaks soothingly, calmly to the horse; making it know in that way he always did that he means it no harm and wants to be friends.

Red Fox Claws and his horse stay where they are and watch Garrett gather the horse in.

As Garrett moves, the wind shifts slightly so that he finds that he's upwind of the horse sooner than he expected. The horse lifts its head and catches sight of Garrett. It seems a bit nervous, but does not flee as Garrett approaches, slowly, speaking to it.

He can see that the tack is definitely Amber-style, and the saddle blanket is green, and the saddle has gold trim, just like the ones from the Castle stable.

[How does he go about catching the horse physically?]

[OOC: Garrett recognizes the tack, but does he recognize the horse itself? That might influence how he approaches it.]

[Would he recognize Dignity's horse? I'm pretty sure he'd know Brennan's, and this is not it.]

Garrett recognizes the horse as one from the Amber stables, one that was commonly used by various knights and guards, but he has no idea who the animal might have last been assigned to. More likely, he just conjured whatever horse came to mind. Still, horses - even trained ones - are essentially herd animals. They prefer being around other horses to being by themselves. That thought gives Garrett an idea.

He turns back slowly and motions Red Fox Claws to come closer, and to lead his own horse into view. He is certain the old man is experienced enough with the animals that warnings about sudden movements will be unnecessary.

Red Fox Claws leads the horse toward Garrett. He's slow and sure, and has the movements of a hunter, even if he's a bit stiff with age. He's not silent in the tall grass, particularly not with the horse, but he doesn't call out or speak, and when his horse whickers, he touches its nose to silence it.

"That's all right," Garrett assures the older man quietly. "Hearing another horse will likely ease his mind."

Garrett turns back to the horse from Amber and once again begins walking toward it slowly. "Easy, boy," he says gently. "See? I've brought you a friend. You're not alone out here." He approaches the animal from the side, staying where it can easily see both him and the other horse. "You remember me? It's been a while, I know, but I remember you." His voice is calm and sure, meant to reassure the skittish horse. He keeps walking, slowly but steadily, until he is an arm's reach away, then he reaches gently for the animal's bridle.

The horse dances back a bit when Garrett reaches for the bridle the first time, but on the second try he's able to grab it and the horse stops obediently. It still eyes him a bit suspiciously, as if it expects something from him that he has not yet provided.

Garrett pets the horse's neck as he glances it over for injuries or other signs of distress. "Sorry, my friend. No treats toda..." Garrett begins to apologize, but cuts himself off. He regards the horse's saddlebag speculatively. "Or maybe... hrmm." He unbuckles the saddlebag nearest to him and reaches into it without looking. It's hard to say how long the animal has been gone from the stable, but perhaps whoever took him out left a bit of grain or a stale carrot in the bag.

When Garrett reaches into the bag, he finds something that might be a stale carrot.

With his back turned away from Red Fox Claws, Garrett grins widely at the successful use of his new-found talent.

The horse looks like he's probably been on the loose for a few days. With the high grass of the plains, there's plenty of food. From the way the gear is on him, he was probably staked somewhere and got loose at some point. There are no obvious injuries or weak points, and his movements indicate that he's uninjured.

"Looks like you found your horse," Red Fox Claws says. "What next, young hero?"

Garrett gives the carrot to the horse with the flat of his palm, then swings into the saddle. Red Fox Claws can see the lad is at home on horseback.

"Well..." Garrett begins, "I have no special place to go and no particular time to be there. Feel like company? You can tell me about being a hero."

Red Fox Claws mounts up as well. "I could teach you, yes, if that's what you want. I'd guess you come from somewhere that has heroes already, from the look of his gear." He gestures at the Amber horse.

Garrett nods, smiling ruefully. "Yeah. And if I stay there, I could bust my tail and learn for thousands of years and still be nothing more than a 'hero-in-training.' Out here?" He glances around appreciatively. "Out here, maybe I can accomplish something. Without having to be compared to gods. So yeah. I want to learn if you'll teach me."

"Very well, young hero, I'll be your teacher." Red Fox Claws gestures for Garrett to follow him and starts to ride away.

Red Fox Claws leads him to a low hilltop nearby. From it he can see a forest, a line of foothills leading into mountains, and a solitary tower with no windows. "Well, my young hero-who-fell-from-the-sky, the first thing we must do is to see what you know. Pick a campsite and make us a camp."

[I'm making some assumptions here that the forest is in the relatively near distance (maybe an hour's ride), the foothills are at mid-distance and the mountains are fairly far away. If your vision was different, I may need to adjust Garrett's actions.]

[The forest is an hours ride to the east, the foothills are 1-2 hours ride to the west and north, turning into mountains in the distance to the north. The forest is hillier to the northeast.]

Garrett looks back at him and nods, taking the challenge. He scans the horizon, squinting against the brightness of lowering sun on plains, trying to analyze the distant forest for ridges and valleys. Then he raises his face to the sky to gaze at the clouds and feel the direction and speed of the wind.

The horsemasters in Amber used to analyze the skies during haying season to know when to cut the hay. High clouds indicated approaching bad weather. Low clouds going away meant the weather would clear. A fresh wind from the northwest generally brought enough clear, sunny days to dry and haul in the hay.

Eventually, Garrett points toward a spot in the forest a bit to their left. "There," he decides. "There's a bit of a dip in the level of the trees. A valley. Usually where there's a valley, there's water." He indicates the sky. "Clouds departing and a freshening wind, so we're likely not to see rain tonight. Camping on the edge of a stream could be bad if it rains hard. And when we find the stream, we should camp on the left bank. That'll put us in the lee of the hill. Less wind so likely not as cold. And it will get cold." He cocks an eyebrow inquiringly, wondering how he did.

It occurs to Garrett that he could make it get cold. He doesn't know how he knows, but he knows that he knows how. All he has to do is be positive that it will. And travel, he has to tavel as well.

"How far do you want to go in, Hero? Those are Alfen lands." Red Fox Claws doesn't change course. Their route will take them somewhat closer to the featureless tower and then away from it.

"Alfen lands?" Garrett asks, wondering at their significance.

"Fey folk. Forest lords. Not like us, and not welcoming to our kind. Many a man who has gone in looking for firewood or chasing game has not come out. They say they came here from somewhere else. They rode in on moonbeams and when they fight, they fight like devils from the trees...

"It's hero business, though, so as long as you're going in with your eyes open I'll go with ye. Just don't get us killed." Red Fox Claws drops his horse back a half-step so he can follow whichever direction Garrett chooses to take.

Garrett slows his mount and turns back to Red Fox Claws. "Rode on moonbeams, you say? That might change things. I've heard of lords like that - stories of battles that happened long before I was born. They were one of the greatest threats my homeland faced before the Black Road creatures arrived, so they say.

"Before I run headlong into something that's bigger than both of us, maybe you should tell me a little more. What else do your people know about the area that I don't yet?" Garrett asks.

Red Fox Claws shrugs. "About the lands, or the Alfen? Not much to say about the lands, for few Heroes who go in return again, and they don't speak of what they saw." He shakes his head.

"Of the Alfen, they say their arrows come like the wind, and you can't see where they come from. And wounds from them never heal. They run so light over the ground that their feet leave no track. But if you go and speak soft to their Queen, you may come away with a cloak and boots like their kind wear. When I served with a Tower Lord many years ago, I saw a Hero with a cloak like that."

"Yeah?" Garrett quirks a skeptical eyebrow. "Cloak like that'd come with a price attached, I'd reckon. Not one I want to pay if I don't have to."

Garrett turns his mount to skirt the forest without entering it, surveying the area while riding slowly along the edge. "One thing I didn't ask yet, Red Fox Claws. Where were you headed when you found me? Do we have an ultimate destination in mind?"

Red Fox Claws meets Garrett's gaze. "I was thinking of going to Weyland's Tower and seeing whether the rumors that another Hero had breached it were true."

"Weyland's. Was that the one we saw from the ridge?" Garrett asks.

"It was. I'm not strong enough to deal with Weyland's sorcery alone, but there might be easy pickings left if someone had breached it," Red Fox Claws explains. "And there are other Lords who'd pay good coin for the news."

"I'm no sorceror, so I'm no stronger than you in that regard," Garrett says, "but I'd be interested to see the place. How long would it take to get there? Can we make it before dark? If the sky remains clear, that is?" Garrett is fairly certain that it will.

"We can ride most of the way back, but we'll have to camp in the shadow of the Tower. We'll be too tired to go inside without resting first," Red Fox Claws explains. He's already nudging his horse back around that direction.

"Best to scout it first anyway," Garrett concurs. He turns his horse to come up alongside Red Fox Claws and rides easily beside him, marveling at how good it feels to be on horseback again.

Garrett rides silently for several minutes, following the track before them. After a bit, he asks, "Which route does this track take? Through the forest or up along the ridge?"

"Along the ridge until we turn back. We don't go through the forest unless we have to," Red Fox Claws reminds Garrett. "Why do you ask?"

Garrett shrugs. "Just getting my bearings," he answers.

He rides in silence again until they reach the ridgeline and begin following it toward the tower. "So you served the Tower Lord Signy," Garrett begins, "but what about before? Are you from this area? How did you become a Hero yourself?"

"I was raised in a Tower village until I was a bit younger than I reckon you are. I wanted to be a Hero, not a farmer, so I ran away and found a Hero to train me." Red Fox Claws does not say "just like you" but the line of thinking is pretty evident to Garrett.

"Lady Signy defeated me when I went against her and offered me honorable service. I took up with her and she attacked her father and his Dvarts, and she vanished. After that, I went against other Towers, but I never had as much success as I did against Lady Signy. Now I do a little Heroing against bandits and wayfarers, but I'm too old to try against a Tower Lord again."

Garrett cocks his head, his eyes narrowing with interest. "So tell me. If you had defeated Lady Signy when you faced her, what would have happened? Would you have become the new Lord of that Tower?" he asks.

Red Fox Claws laughs. "Do I look like a Wizard? No, the Tower would just have stayed vacant and the people around it free, at least for a time. Eventually the Tower would fall, or another Wizard would have come to take it."

"Is that why you go against the Wizards then? Do the Tower Lords enslave the people around them?" Garrett asks.

"Some do, although others mostly ignore them. And there are raids, but the Tower Lords who notice their people try to protect them--at least if they find them useful. If they feed the Tower, or provide some service, like guarding."

"Like you did," Garrett smiles, making the connection. "Tell me about this Lady Signy. How long did you serve her? What was she like?"

"Several turnings of the seasons. Lady Signy was fierce, a great warrior and a witch in her own right: well-suited to be a Tower Lord, if she'd not gone against Weyland." Red Fox Claws shakes his head mournfully. "She had a sound grasp of tactics and strategy, and led our band well against the Dvarts."

"I hope you still remember those strategies, Red Fox Claws. I'd like to learn them. What are... Dvarts?" Garrett asks, saying the word carefully to be sure he pronounces it right.

"They're like men. Short, only about so tall." Red Fox Claws leans forward and drops his hand to about halfway up his lower leg where it rests with his foot in the stirrup. "Bearded. Warriors and workers in metal. You can understand they might want to ally with a Tower Lord called the Smith, and he with them."

"Makes sense," Garrett nods in agreement. "I would imagine then that they are quite good with edged weapons? Swords, spears, the like? Probably make good shields too. So what was the strategy that worked best against them?" Garrett's eyes narrow and his head cocks as he asks the question. He obviously has an idea in mind and is checking to see if it matches what really worked.

"Polearms. Not spears--" Red Fox Claws mimes a throw "--but long poles with bladed ends, so high from the ground and more." He raises his arm to full extension from horseback. "And hammers and maces as well. You break their lines and keep them broken so they can't set their polearms against a charge. Cull the weak from the herd and ride them down. And whatever you do, don't fight them in the mountains."

"What happens then?" Garrett asks, glancing around to check the terrain.

He shrugs. "All the advantages are theirs. They're good at ducking into holes that you can't see, you have to ride more slowly over the terrain, and it's good territory for them to ambush you from. If flee from you consider twice before you chase them uphill away from your brothers."

Garrett nods, filing that away.

[The older man] grins. "The last time I was unwise enough to do that, I was captured by a demi-goddess."

"A demi-goddess?," Garrett exclaims. "Lady Signy or someone else?"

He shakes his head, calmly. "Dame Lilly, whose father was Benedictus of the famous rule. She was half-alfen. She disappeared into the tower with Lady Signy and two other gods and never came out."

If Garrett had not been an expert horseman, he would have clenched the reins hard enough to stop his horse. Instead, he turns sharply, his gaze intent on Red Fox Claws. "Dame Lilly?!" he yelps in surprise. Though his rational mind tries to reason that it could be a shadow and not her at all, the questions tumble out anyway. "How long ago was this? What did she look like? What did the others look like?"

Red Fox Claws snorts and rides on, telling his tale. "It was a man's lifetime ago, specifically mine. four score years and seven, when I was young and Lady Signy was the only demi-goddess a man could imagine meeting."

Garrett begins to look a little confused about the length of time that has passed, but he does not interrupt the old man.

"Dame Lilly defeated me and a Dvart on the south slope of Liars' Mountain and came down with me to meet Lady Signy. She looked alfen, with alfen eyes and a sword that seemed to back her claim to be Benedictus' child. They met with two other men, Sir Marius and Sir Brennan, and attempted to storm the tower by magics. They fought the rock eating thing and went in. It was the last we saw of them, though we waited three moons.

He frowns. "Time plays games in that tower, it is said, but we could wait no longer. I come back by here at least once a year to see if there is any sign that she might return. I told her I'd stay, and I have done what I could to do so."

"You're a good man, Red Fox Claws. A fine and loyal warrior. Thank you for telling me this," Garrett comments, though his mind appears to be elsewhere, pondering all that the older man has told him. He rides in silence for some time, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Ruby," Garrett mutters finally. "Time plays games indeed." Turning to Red Fox Claws, he elaborates, "I think I know...knew... these people. Or some very like them. If they were mounted, can you remember what their tack looked like? Did it look like this?" He waggles his finger between the bridle and saddle of his current mount.

Red Fox Claws looks at the tack and the horse as if seeing it for the first time. "It's been a long time, but I don't remember them coming ahorse. I haven't seen tack like that before, as I can recall."

"Oh. That doesn't prove anything either way, I reckon. They have many ways of traveling," Garrett concedes. "Sir Brennan and Sir Marius. One was a strong-looking fellow with red hair and the other was a bit leaner with dark, curly hair, correct?"

"I only saw them briefly, a lifetime ago. That sounds right, but who knows what else you might have said that would also have had the ring of truth to it?"

"Heh. I reckon," Garrett says, settling down into silence as he tries to imagine how it feels to be at the other end of your life.

The sun moves fast in this shadow. Garrett thinks it may set soon.

The young prince cranes his neck as he tries to determine how far they are from the tower. He also begins looking around for a suitable place to camp. As he does so, he remembers that he could probably shift to find such a location and turn back the sun a bit as well to buy some time. He decides against it, however. Some small, stubborn part of him wants to save that power for an emergency, particularly with a mortal accompanying him.

[So what does he see here? Anything look promising?]

Some scrub and forest verge to the one side, foothills a good distance away to the other side.

The tower is the only thing Garrett thinks he could easily reach by sunset. From the signs Garrett has seen along the ride, people tend to camp in the open.

On the lee side of the next rise, Garrett selects a relatively flat area as a place to make camp. It's a spot with a view of the distant tower, but not right on its doorstep. He explains to Red Fox Claws his reasons for picking the site - the high point of land behind them will provide some shelter from the wind, there could perhaps be a stream of some sort at the bottom of the slope and, most importantly, they can watch the tower for any indication of torches or other after-dark activity.

Red Fox Claws provides a nourishing but extremely chewy jerky. He doesn't explain what kind of animal it's from.

And Garrett doesn't ask.

There's a door at the base, and Garrett thinks he sees light underneath it. Red Fox Claws can't see any light, but he says his eyes aren't what they once were.

Before settling in for the night, Garrett digs into his mount's saddle bags for a shirt to protect himself against the night's chill. He knows there must be one in there somewhere, and given his stature, it's likely to either fit or be too big. He offers to take the first watch.

The saddlebags have what Garrett would expect from a knight or young noble. Examining the contents, they might belong to someone about Garrett's age. From some of the other effects in the bag, Garrett may guess that it belongs to Squire Dignity, who used to be older than Garrett but came back from the war younger than Garrett.

It's unclear what a squire in the service of Amber would be doing here. Wherever here is.

Out of curiosity, Garrett checks the teeth of this horse, trying to determine its age. If this was the original horse that Dignity rode out on, which seems likely because the tack fits it well, Garrett hopes to get some idea of long it's been in this shadow. It certainly hasn't been here the "four score and seven" years since Red Fox Claws saw Sir Brennan. It would be dead.

It's been here a short enough time that the feed from Amber and the rations for the rider are still fresh. Garrett's best guess is that it's been less than a tennight.

The rations. Of course. Garrett chuckles at his obvious inexperience. He has a lot to learn about time differentials and how to evaluate them.

He ruffles the horse's mane and goes back to the campsite with his pack to stand watch. As the night grows darker, he continues to watch the tower with interest, watching and listening for any signs of movement or flickering of the light that he saw previously.

There are no signs of anything from the tower. Garrett is able to get in some practice with his fortunes.

The night passes without event. In the morning, there's unnamed jerky for breakfast again. It's still chewy. The tower still looms, waiting for Red Fox Claws and Garrett to approach.

Over the breakfast jerky, Garrett asks Red Fox Claws if the place looks the same as it has on his previous trips, now that they can see it in the light of day. He also asks what the older warrior had done on his past trips to approach the place - brace for an ambush or knock on the front door. He's only half-joking.

The tower apparently hasn't changed significantly in many years.

"Lady Signy asked for admittance, and a--a space?--opened up in the side and she went in. It was like a doorway, but no door. Magic," Red Fox Claws says sagely.

"Magic, eh?" Garrett groans, packing up his bedroll and gear as he speaks. "Not exactly my strong point. This ain't red," he chuckles wryly, twisting a lock of his dark brown hair around a finger. "Hells, it ain't even blond."

He shakes his head and rises, not expecting Red Fox Claws to understand what hair color has to do with anything. He fastens his gear on his horse and checks his sword and knife. "You wouldn't happen to remember what words the Lady used, would you? It might make a difference."

[OOC: Dignity didn't happen to have a bow, did he? Garrett can handle one of those.]

[OOC: What a coincidence! He seems to have, regardless of what Novak can tell you about whether or not he did when Dignity was travelling with Brennan.]

Red Fox Claws has to stop to think about that . "She bargained with the doorkeeper when she went in the last time."

"Heh heh. Doorkeeper, Doorkeeper, please let me in," Garrett chuckles, the cadence of his words suggesting a child's nursery game. He checks the tension on the bow that he found with the horse's tack, not surprised that the bowstring pulls just exactly as he likes it. He straps the bow and quiver to his back. Finally, fully armed, he turns back to Red Fox Claws.

"Um, yes. Something like that."

[OOC: more like "Open this up you smelly old goat, before I smash it down around your ears!"]

"Well, I reckon we should do this," he states, nodding toward the tower.