2001-03-20: A Hunting We Shall Go

Revision as of 23:51, 24 February 2017 by BrianFreud (talk | contribs) (Created page with "{{InfoHeader UOFiction | shard = Pacific | title = A Hunting We Shall Go | author = Simon the Scribe | type = BNN }}<div class="uofiction"> The young lord breathed deeply of...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)


BNNMasthead.gif
Pacific Edition


A Hunting We Shall Go

Author: Simon the Scribe Published: March 20, 2001



The young lord breathed deeply of the fresh Yew air. Ah, he thought, there was nothing better than the scent of the forest in the air, the sun overhead, bright in the blue sky, and the idea of a hunt before you. He looked about the large log building a property that had remained in his family for years. While the place had remained empty since his father’s death fifteen years before, it was once again time to open the Greymason family hunting lodge.

James Greymason II would indeed open the ancestral hunting lodge, but he had more in mind for it than his forefathers ever had. In earlier times, his male ancestors would gather at the lodge periodically, inviting only a few other noble friends, and engage in hunting and drinking. While the nobles were well known for their hunting prowess, James suspected much more of the latter activity had gone on in the lodge.

“Times have changed,” he muttered to no one in particular. The servants had departed the lodge the night before, after cleaning and refurbishing the place. Once again, Greymason Lodge was ready to receive guests. “And not just a bunch of drunken old noblemen telling wild stories. No, this time, the true hunters, the mighty hunters of Britannia will have a place to gather, and show their mastery of hunting and tracking.”

The young lord sat in thought for a long moment, pondering several decisions. He spoke aloud, as if to sound out his ideas to the lodge itself.

“A series of hunts.spread across Britannia, both in Trammel and Felucca.for animals rare and common, and for monsters both fierce and foul.” Greymason looked to the left of the lodge, where a pair of archery buttes stood. “And contests of archery...”, he swung his head to look right, “And contests of knife tossing.”

Slowly he wandered around the lodge, then inside, and back out. He smiled. “Perhaps we could even offer instruction on the arts of fletching, bowyering, and other such craft to the younger, more aspiring hunters.” He nodded his head, in assent with his spoken thoughts.

Greymason knew that other members of the nobility would shake their heads over the idea of letting just anyone visit the lodge and be called an honored guest. But he did not care as a hunter of great renown himself, James wished to discover other men and women who appreciated the hunt, both the chase and the kill, as much as he did. In time, those who distinguished themselves on his sponsored hunts would gain fame and glory. These mighty hunters Greymason would surround himself with, and eventually a new elite group would be formed.

It was time to see what Britannia had to offer, both in terms of clever prey, and clever hunters. Very soon now, Greymason would extend the invitation to all the land.