Against All Odds II
Gord leaves his hovel at the edge of the village and makes his way towards the barn near the gate to check on Lor. After walking for a minute, he comes to the barn and opens the side door to be faced once more with Frome cutting into the table.
"Gord? What are you doing out of your home? Aren't you looking after that kid?" Frome calls out to Gord as he enters, stopping his fiddling with the table.
"It's fine, the kid's stable now, still passed out though. Snoring like a dwarf." Gord laughs, "And the missus gave me a list for the day, but I figured that I'd look in on Lor before getting it done. Mind if I head back to check on him?"
"Nah, head on back he's been sleeping since he got back though." Frome says, waving Gord on.
Walking further into the barn, Gord notices Lor's stable to be open, making him slow his approach. As he enters Lor's doorway he sees a different furball than he was expecting...
This brelok was only around six and a half feet in height with a much more slender and toned physique than Lor, dark and glossy hair with three short braids running down to its shoulders, the braids were not particularly artistic nor as decorative as Lor's. Its head was less rotund than Lor's with a much straighter nose and almost no scars on their body. Upon noticing Gord the small brelok shuffles behind the much larger sleeping Lor.
Gord slowly approaches the sleeping Lor before calling out to the small brelok, "Hey, Tug is it? I'm just here to give your dad a checkup, if that's okay with you?"
Tug nods slowly while staring intently at Gord as he checks Lor's condition. Most of Lor's deep cuts and scratches have already scabbed over with his calf muscles showing signs of regrowth, with his eye discharging a clear liquid. Gord applies fresh bandages to the snoring Lor as Tug watches Gord's every move, only relaxing when Gord left the stables.
After exiting the stable Gord moved to the center of the village to a cozy little storefront with a carving of a chair on a hanging wooden sign. Pushing his way through the door, Gord hears a cascade of bells above him as he enters the storefront and a booming voice calls from further in the store, "Be with ya ina moment, just finishin' an order." The front of the store was filled with beautiful pieces of woodwork, hand-carved shelves held all kinds of wooden tools, the tables were finely sanded and made into displays for chairs, stools, and other furniture, as well as some smaller knickknacks, like children's toys and utensils.
"No rush, Maul, just looking for a stool and a bed." Gord calls back to Maul, as he pulls out one of the chairs and takes a seat to rest his knees. A few minutes later a stout and burly, bearded man, with ashen hair, comes from the back of the store. Only rising up to Gord's navel, Maul is roughly four and a quarter foot tall, wearing a black open-chested shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing a tattoo depicting a crescent moon with three straight lines below it, and thick pair of leather trousers with an open tool belt hanging from his waist. On his left hand was three, thick iron rings that looked rather suited to his heavily calloused hands.
"Gord? Why're ya here? Didn't I's get ya a new table and chairs last summer? What happened? Did ya break'em?" Maul confusedly calls to Gord as he wipes the saw dust and wood carvings off his cloths.
Gord laughs, "Haven't you heard the commotion Maul? I've got a son now and Lor's wiped out an ab nest."
Maul begins beaming, with a slightly busted and toothy smile, "I's knew ya had it in ya! Congrats! When do'ya need a crib?" he says clapping Gord on his back.
Gord laughs once more, "He's no newborn maul, I found the kid lost in the forest and choose to claim him. Doesn't seem to be more than ten or twelve summers, poor lad was sicker than a lurker, but he's stable now and should wake up in a couple days. So, I'd like to order a second bed and stool, the sooner the better." Gord says pulling a pouch from his pocket, before having Maul shove Gord's hand back into his cloak.
"Now there's no need for that, ya saved me ma and pa when we first came here. So, I's ain't be taken none of ya hard earned coin ya's hear me Gord? None of it! Ya's got a boy ta feed and clothe, and them youngin's get mighty expensive." Maul says chidingly.
"How'd you know you old goat! I don't see any ankle bitters running around this shop, do you? Now take my coin! I ain't raising my boy on charity!" Gord grumbles while trying to shove the coin purse back into maul's hand, causing the two elderly men to begin a game of reverse tug of war.
"I'm savin' meself for the right lass is all! An it ain't charity, it's called bein' good to who's good to ya! Now keep ya damn coin and thank me's generosity, ya old bastard!" Maul yells to Gord while shoving the coin purse back.
Back in forth they bickered, wrestled, and tossed the coin purse, for over an hour... Until both men were sitting on the newly made stools catching their breathe.
"Ya one ornery bastard, ya knows that Gord." Maul says with labored breath punctuating every word.
"Right back at you... So... One silver and you're coming over for dinner all this month?" Gord heaves back trying to catch his breath.
"Aye, see ya an ya lass ta'night. Now get, I's got work ta do. I'll bring a stool with me's." Maul sighs, slowly getting up from his stool and heading to the back of his shop to begin carving.
Gord takes a moment to steady himself before fishing out a silver coin from his coin purse and laying it on the counter. Then heading out of Maul's shop past the village center and all the way to the opposite outskirts of the village that Gord had built his home. Resting against a wooden fence for a moment, Gord then goes towards the miller's house. A hovel much like his own, but much newer with an additional room and a small shed to the side of the house for milling grain, a single brelok was turning the heavy millstone around and around the grinding pit. A barn stood a ways from the house to store the ground and unground grains.