RW Abbey: Orchards
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You stand in a sort of verdant sanctuary where the sun glares through the once thickened leaves. The occasional downed tree, in combination with the standing, murky water, cause the harsh light to bounce about the pond. A soft covering of moss and grass finds itself suffocated by the oozing sludge of mud, seeping in, and crushing into the trunks of the many once-proud trees, only serving to add to the displeasure of the whole scene.

Flowers, leaves, fruit, lie face down, dead in the mire below, leaving cool, empty branches. Fruits of all kinds are crushed and destroyed, as a result of the deluge of water, and the shaking all about. Any trace of the snow and death of winter is completely replaced by the great doom of despair and loathing, as of blooming flowers, developing fruit add to the slush below. The little flowers of the ground-covering plants, now covered by the marsh, begin to add a musty smell to the air, as they begin to become dusted in rot.

Something flashes in the sunlight up in a tree, maybe you can climb up the apple tree.

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Exits: [Wander] deeper into the Orchards, [P]ath by [G]reat [H]all, [Ki]tchen [P]ath
Contents:
Wheel Barrow
Garden Tools
Small Cart
Kevarr's Tree
With:
[IC] Vantide
** THIS ROOM IS BROADCASTING **

Digby bounces after the beaver, overjoyed to be with such a large activity.

Vantide grins over her shoulder at the Dibbun following her, hoping more would come to this section of the garden. She begins skillfully removing weeds one by one, showing she was obviously not one who disdained hard labor. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it.

Digby goes up next to her, starting to mock the beaver's actions. He pulls out all the small ones, not daring to tackle the larger.

A couple other beasts make their way, being promised a pie from the beaver. Mice, squirrels, and a hedgehog or two start to pulls weeds, chattering happily to one another.

Vantide glances around the garden, chewing at her lip a bit. An action that has to be done with some care, as her large, sharp incisors could easily break skin. The burly beaver sets to work moving the larger rocks in the garden out of the way.

A hedgehog pauses, nudging his other hedgehog friend. The two whisper to each other an chuckle giving a nod. The first hedgehog rolls up into a tight ball, the other backs up a few paces and runs, bumping into the rolled up one, causing him to roll across the garden, his spikes picking up a load of weeds.

Digby laughs at the anitcs, trying them himself. He rolls, but seems to pick up more dirt than anything. The dibbun sits up, overjoyed at the fun. He romps over, eager to help the beaver. A few more squirrels come over, pushing the rock along with Vantide.

Zaelia has arrived.
Rodney has arrived.
Veronica has arrived.

Vantide chuckles as she finishes moving all the more prominent rocks in the area she's working on away, then goes back to weeding, picking up a spade. Her webbed paws were a bit clumsy pulling out the weeds by paw.

The two hedgehog brothers continue their rolling trick, pinning most of the weeds in their sharp spikes. Both stand up, waddleing a bit and more than dizzy. Lop-sided grins light their faces and they laugh.

Rodney comes walking after the squirrelmaid, Veronica by the arm. He stops to look at how the work is progressing.

Zaelia scurries around the orchards with a none-too-soft, "Wheeeeeeeee!" before tripping a bit in the weeds. Gaining her feet again, she climbs a tree and begins calling out orders from her perch to the workbeasts below, becoming self-appointed taskmaster. "You! pulla da' wok out! You dewe, you missa spot"

Veronica looks about, still looking unsure about the labour to come.

Vantide is still digging out weeds with the spade, working with a sort of methodical ease. The hardworking beaver never halts, but continues to remove the plants one by one, concentrating on the task at paw.

Rodney leads the vixen over to a downed treetrunk, which looks nice and dry. "Things seem to be going smoothly without our help here, too... We had best leave them at it..." He indicated the treetrunk with a gallant motion, quite unlike the gruff demaeanor he displays most of the time.

Veronica takes her seat with a smile, "Whatever you say, sir Rodney. I trust you are wiser in these matters than I." the vixen rests her paws in her lap.

Digby looks up and salutes to the squirrel dibbun. "Yes Mar'm!" He squeaks and sets to work again, pulling all the small weeds he can.

Zaelia continues to survey the work critically from the tree. After a moment, "... Ar, thata good! We bea needin' seeds soon!"

Vantide chuckles at the irrepressible little Dibbun as she pulls up another weed with the spade. Pausing for just a moment, she calls up, "Aye, an' I s'pose we'll need somebeast to go get 'em!"

More beasts gather, a few otters come and move the great boulder, telling the others that these will make great jumping rocks for dibbuns when the pond is clean. They rolls thoose off, leaving a large group of beasts tearing up the weed-ridden area. As piles grow high, a few beasts come around and gather the pulled weeds into the wheel barrow, in turn taking this to the cart in the middle of the place. A nice mousemaid comes around with a tray of water glasses, offering it to any beast that wishes.

Rodney sits on the log, watching the beasts at work with discerning, amber eyes, idly rubbing the handle of his walking cane. After just a few moments, however, he turns back to the vixen next to him, giving her a long, curious glance. "What brought you to the Abbey, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks softly, head tilted slightly to the side.

From the other side of the Orchards comes a group of Long Patrol Hares, armed with hoes and spades. "What ho!" They shout, diving into the fray of the moments, turning dirt up into fine rows, laughing all the way. The metal of the tools flash in the sun, and the beasts give up a joyess shout at the hare's progress.

Veronica frowns slightly, "I do not mind sir, but my mind is troubled slightly by your question. I have known you but a little while, yet I trust you already, perhaps too much." she sighs, "You will forgive me. I have spent the past five seasons fleeing my past, and I still fear it. Yet I feel compelled to speak the truth, however damning it may be."

Rodney looks at Veronica in a slightly bewildered, concerned sort of way. "Oh...?" he says. "This is perhaps not the best place to talk about that..." he adds, with a quick look around at the other beasts, and a particularly suspicious glance at the Long Patrol hares.

Veronica looks about, "Nay, I think they are quite busy with their work, and likely these hares have heard already from Lady Kevarr my secrets." she sighs, "I told you my name upon our meeting, but it was a name only half truthful. Veronica I am. Soltanik I am not."

Seeing a row nicely finished, Vantide raises a brow and looks around, muttering something to herself. Then, a little louder the beaver announces, "Well, I s'pose -I'll- go get some seeds then."

Digby smiles and waves. "Okie, ottah! I wait hewe!"

Vantide has left.
Nizzen arrives from the garden path.
Nizzen has arrived.

Rodney seems a little surprised to hear a familiar name being mentioned, and his curiosity is sparked even more, getting the better of his shyness. He leans forward a little, completely obvlivious to the beaver's comment. "This sounds serious?" he says, giving Veronica a concerned look.

Nizzen has left.

"It is to me at least." Veronica says, "In truth my name is Veronica Soulslash. I am the only daughter of Caspius and Ariadne Soulslash, of the western mountains. You may not have heard of them. Five seasons can eat away a legend. But my family has long been a line of cruel killers."

Rodney ohs, nods slowly. "I have been very unaware of fairly much everything before I came here. I lived an isolated life in my order..." He makes a brief gesture at his robe, by way of clarification.

Veronica smiles just a little, "It is well. There is a black mark of guilt upon me. This very abbey has been threatened by my blood brother, and as family, I share that blame. I came to this place to try and redeem myself, to do some good." the vixen tilts her head, "What brought you here, Rodney?"

Working together, the large group of beasts manage to finish the rest of the rows before Vantide returns. They give up a cheer and raise victorious paw in the air. An otter ducks out of the scene, rushing to fetch some buckets of water to give to the seeds when they get planted. They others watch, some searching for missed weeds.

Rodney gives a slight shrug. "I had nowhere else to go after I left the order... This was the only other place I knew of." He looks up at the cheering, glancing over at the beasts before turning back his head. "I thought everything would be fine when I came here..." He frowns a little.

Veronica laughs a sad laugh, "I too was shocked when I first arrived here. I had heard much of the Abbey's greatness. I knew nothing of its ruin."

Vantide has arrived.

Rodney nods slowly, giving the hares another glance, turning slightly moody. "And to top it off, wherever I go, I get suspicious glances, simply for being a fox..." He grits his teeth, jabs angrily with his cane at a stray weed, crushing it into the ground.

Veronica frowns and nods, "Indeed. Still, we are doubtless more welcome now than we would have been in seasons past." she smiles, "A marten jill is the closest this place has to an Abbess these days, so foxes cannot be held in too low esteem."

Rodney tilts his head to the side. "Marten...?"

Veronica nods, "Lady Kevarr. She is a marten."

Rodney says, "Ah, yes... Kevarr. Yes, she is probably the best thing to happen to this abbey for a long while... And she has really improved my situation."

Veronica cocks her head to the side, "How so?" she inquires.

Rodney smiles. "By standing up for me, and others too. In my opinion, she would be a very good abbess indeed."

At this time a shout comes up from the other side of the orchards. It was over! A group had already finished and won the pie. A groan goes up from the group and they hurry to finish, tramping off to eat what's left of the picnic.