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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Raven Crowking" data-source="post: 2002995" data-attributes="member: 18280">Being springtime, many of the people living in the small community are out furrowing the fields with hand plows or yoked oxen.  Where the fields have already been planted, children with slings keep watch for birds, which would otherwise steal the precious rye and barley seedcorn before it had a chance to sprout.  The children, at least, have the time to stare as the group travels past on horses or in cart.   What flocks these people have have been sent to pasture.  Although you see an occasional herd of sheep on a hillside, they are kept far from the croplands.Apart from the church and the mill, the settlement seems to contain nothing other than housing, pens, and sheds for animals.  Most of the dwellings are along a single dirt lane.  There are chicken coops in front of some of the homes.  Small gardens for herbs or vegetables -- still far out of season -- probably account for some of the marked out places in various yards.  Spring flowers have also been planted in front of some of the homes, giving the small wattle-and-daub dwellings a splash of cheery color.  All the homes are thatched in straw; small birds apparently nest on some of the roofs or just under the eaves.The church is dedicated to Amatheon and St. Clovis, patron of herdsmen.  There is a smallish stable and dovecote attached to the church, though there are no horses in it.  Brother Hengist takes takes the horses into the stable.  Fellan accompanies him, to ensure that they are properly curried.After a minute, a rather thin man comes out of the church.  He is dressed in poor brown robes bearing embroidered images of grain sheaves.  His hair is thinning, leaving him with a pronounced widow's peak high upon his forehead.  "Greetings," he says.  "In the name of the Seven Good Gods, I welcome you to Kell's Reach.  I am Amalric, a humble servant of Amatheon who labors in His Fields.  Come into the church.  I was just about to eat my noon meal."Inside, the church is no better than outside.  There are several rough pews, but little sign that the area has received much loving attention of late.  Amalric leads you to a small side room.  He serves watery soup made from the marrows of old vegetables on a scarred wooden table.  Although he has enough wooden bowls for everyone, he doesn't have enough chairs even with Fellan and Brother Hengist in the stables.  With the soup, Amalric serves barley pancakes that seem far more passable fare."I am sorry for the lean table," the middle-aged man says apologetically.  "We have fallen on hard times here in Kell's Reach.  Attendence is up, what with that demon snatching flocks and folks, but donations are, if anything, worse."</blockquote>

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