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Firefoot · 06-24-2008, 07:02 PM

Was watching someone drown and doing nothing the same as killing him? Scyld wondered idly. Oddly enough, Oeric seemed to have disappeared, though he had to have come past this man struggling in the bog. Scyld had hidden himself some distance away to watch the drama unfold. He had seen men die before. Not many, only a couple, but to interfere would have meant his own death. Now, however, helping would come at no cost to himself. In fact, he may even be rewarded. Wasn’t he on the point of entering the Eorl’s camp anyway? Assuming, of course, that this one was from the Eorl’s camp.

Fortunately, he was saved from making up his mind by Oeric’s return. The rescue itself was unremarkable, but the man who emerged from the bog certainly was. If man he could be called – so stumpy were his limbs and strange his proportions that he must be one of the Wild Men. Scyld could scarcely believe it; he had always more than half thought that they were only a figment of legend. What strange company the Eorl kept! Then, just to further his shock, Oeric and the Wild Man began to laugh, for no apparent reason at all. It was not a familiar sound to Scyld. He himself rarely laughed, and at those times it was a biting sound that contained little merriment. If there was anything amusing about this situation, it was the sheer irony; Oeric who had no desire to be discovered had willingly risked his safety, while he who was ready to make himself known hid. A slight but grim smile crossed Scyld’s face. Yes, that was ironic, and Scyld had a good eye for irony.

The only way to make the situation more ironic that it already was, Scyld mused, would be if the stumpy little man refused to simply let Oeric go. He knew nothing of Wild Man customs – would he feel that Oeric needed some sort of honor for the act? Or might the Eorl have a mandate against wanderers on his land? Ha! Teach Oeric some sense, that might. Would the two fight? Somehow, Scyld had a feeling that the Wild Man would win, despite the difference in their heights. But this was all still idle speculation. How might he play a role? Might there be an opportunity here for him? He would soon know; their voices ought to carry easily over the short distance. He need only wait.

06-24-2008, 07:02 PM	#153
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,646	Scyld, late morning Was watching someone drown and doing nothing the same as killing him? Scyld wondered idly. Oddly enough, Oeric seemed to have disappeared, though he had to have come past this man struggling in the bog. Scyld had hidden himself some distance away to watch the drama unfold. He had seen men die before. Not many, only a couple, but to interfere would have meant his own death. Now, however, helping would come at no cost to himself. In fact, he may even be rewarded. Wasn’t he on the point of entering the Eorl’s camp anyway? Assuming, of course, that this one was from the Eorl’s camp. Fortunately, he was saved from making up his mind by Oeric’s return. The rescue itself was unremarkable, but the man who emerged from the bog certainly was. If man he could be called – so stumpy were his limbs and strange his proportions that he must be one of the Wild Men. Scyld could scarcely believe it; he had always more than half thought that they were only a figment of legend. What strange company the Eorl kept! Then, just to further his shock, Oeric and the Wild Man began to laugh, for no apparent reason at all. It was not a familiar sound to Scyld. He himself rarely laughed, and at those times it was a biting sound that contained little merriment. If there was anything amusing about this situation, it was the sheer irony; Oeric who had no desire to be discovered had willingly risked his safety, while he who was ready to make himself known hid. A slight but grim smile crossed Scyld’s face. Yes, that was ironic, and Scyld had a good eye for irony. The only way to make the situation more ironic that it already was, Scyld mused, would be if the stumpy little man refused to simply let Oeric go. He knew nothing of Wild Man customs – would he feel that Oeric needed some sort of honor for the act? Or might the Eorl have a mandate against wanderers on his land? Ha! Teach Oeric some sense, that might. Would the two fight? Somehow, Scyld had a feeling that the Wild Man would win, despite the difference in their heights. But this was all still idle speculation. How might he play a role? Might there be an opportunity here for him? He would soon know; their voices ought to carry easily over the short distance. He need only wait.