Subject: Re: The Farm

As they ride, Pensive looks back at the walls of Overlook, at the faces of the men and women and children leaving their homes. Escaping into uncertainty. Leaving doom for danger. And Pensive remembers leaving the monastery.

It took forty-five years for restlessness to settle into his bones. There was always something else to learn, some wisdom he hadn't gained yet, some bit of the Path that remained unexplored within the walls, or at Deacon Comfort's side. His own doing-- Deacon Comfort would have had him gone by the time he was twenty. So he studied and bided his time, and learned to use the gift that the Mossground had given him.

And then he realized that he was no longer learning-- more and more, he was teaching the children of monks who had left and come back and married. . . and began living. He saw the bonding lines, tethering children to their parents, husband to wife, family to community, community to the world, the world to the Path. And while he was wrapped in the community, while his tether was strong, it was short.

He'd had twice as long as any monk in history to learn the ways of the Path of Blood and Stone. He was suddenly exhausted with the monestary-- exhausted with the walls of his own room, the little garden he kept, exhausted with seeing the families grow and thrive, and lengthen their bonds to children, grandchildren. . .

None of the vicars protested when he asked them for permission to leave. Rigor alone had been cautious, placing his hard hands on Pensive's shoulders, telling him that the world would not see him as they did. But he had not objected to his leaving.

And why should they have objected? Pensive had been learning the Path for forty five years.

Forty-five _elven_ years.

That was the problem, Pensive found. He followed the road from the monastery, out of Bannock's Ire, to the cities that crouched at the foot of the mountains. He learned quickly that life among human and gnomish monks had little prepared him for travelling out in the world, and he saw why. An elf at forty-five was no larger than a twelve year old human. The low elves looked askance at him at first-- he was just an _urchin_. Forty-five years, among the elves, was still young-- barely out of childhood.

Pensive rubs the thistle tatoo on the back of his neck. Sharp memories. What had he done to lengthen the tether connecting him to the world at large since then?

It would have to be a question for another time. The cornfield is before them. Pensive follows Rennick into the field, and politely ignores his request to remain behind.

The house is quiet before them. Pensive unwinds the stonesash from his forearms, and lays his bow aside. He quickly sketches out a simple map of the farm in the dirt, and touches Rennick's arm. He mouths, 'Five minutes,' and then points at himself, and then at the barn on the map. He draws a line around the far side of the barn, behind the barn, to the back of the house.

And then he'll wait for Rennick's response.

OOC: Ty, what time of day is it? How long do we figure until the army catches up with us?

Subject: Re: The Farm

The elf was presumptuous, as all elves were, but young. Very young for his kind. Even behind all the training of the monks, there was a sense of urgency behind his eyes, a very human quality... there was some need Rennik could not quite understand. Was there something this young elf had to prove to himself? Or was it just that he was eager to embrace life?

Or, in this case, death.

He did not object to Pensive tagging along, but mentally filed the young elf's resistance. Rennik had never known a clumsy or awkward member of that race, but, then, he had only had experience with trained scouts and hunters. This elf had more of a human bent, striking Rennik as more rash than the staid and reserved companions he had traveled with years earlier. Still, he had the same training as Mission, who acquited himself rather well, and so the halfling endured his newfound shadow.

The farm looked quiet and unassuming. Either there was no forewarning of their arrival and all were comfortable waiting inside, or they had been spotted and their enemies were lying quietly in wait. He had to assume the latter.

Pensive motioned to him and drew the map, suggesting that he scout the rear of the farm. Very eager, indeed, to rush into the unknown alone.

Rennik shook his head. He pointed at Pensive, then pointed at the ground. Then, he pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at the house. Tapping his own chest with two fingers, he made a circular motion with fingers pointed down to represent scouting the house himself.

Finally, as he moved to leave cover, he pointed at Pensive's bow and again at the house, suggesting covering fire if needed.

[Rennik will scout the back of the farm, specifically trying to find some angle where he can see in a window or door, any opening, and get a view of what's going on inside. He will be wary of any farm animals or dogs about the place, and will have Tichenor to stay with Pensive.]

Subject: Re: The Farm

Pensive shrugs at the halfling. It was true that Pensive could aid the halfling much more quickly than the halfling could aid him, if it came to that. He nods, and wraps the stonesash loosely around his shoulder.

He picks up his bow, and notches an arrow.

OOC: If the halfling is attacked, Pensive will call out for the guardsmen to aid them, fire at the attacker nearest Rennick, and then run to aid him in melee combat.