Chapter 4: Vessimir Part 1

As it would turn out the keep Vessimir was exactly what it sounded like, it was smaller than what I had been expecting, in fact as I sat atop the pile of hay and looked up at the keep proper where it sat atop the hill with a sheer faced drop that seemed the walls seemed to continue vertically up I was struck by how much smaller it was than I had expected.

That was not to say it was not an impressive structure, after all, none of this was actually built using anything but man and beast power much like the castles of the other world, but this was more of a fortified stone manor than a grand sweeping castle. It consisted of what looked like a large manor house whose walls made up the back of the curtain walls that overlooked the cliff’s drop, a tower that looked as though it might be a hundred feet high or so, and a smaller tower on the opposite side, as well as what looked like a fortified gatehouse for entry. Of course, all of these were connected by the curtain wall which had to be twenty to thirty feet high and completely enclosed the inner courtyard. It may not be the largest of castles but the strategic positioning of it up on that cliff made it unapproachable from all but the face side, so I couldn't fault the placement of it. After all, like they always said, it was all about location, location, location.

The actual fort or keep or what have you of Vessimir was not the only thing built here, at the base of the hill, with the keep towering over it high above a small village had been made. It wasn't walled in, and according to Tovold it had no name, but some three hundred people lived there, both as workers to work on the keep as well as families and the industries that were needed to make life in an area such as this feasible. The actual buildings looked to be wood plank houses with chinking between the thick boards. The roofs were thatched and the entire town had a sort of lived-in feel that was hard to describe. It also had a life to it, a vibrancy to it that I rarely had seen. All the towns and cities that I had been in had seemed stagnate, like they had been there for generations and there was nothing new or exciting going on. Here however there were men and women moving around everywhere to do every sort of job imaginable.

As we came into the town proper I couldn't help but look around at the people and things going on. Very rarely do games or movies get things like this right, the feel and atmosphere of what would be a medieval village or town, in terms of movies I had only seen Kingdom of heaven and perhaps the Lord of the Rings movies get close to this feeling. It was honestly exhilarating. I took in as much as I could as the cart pulled through the dirt streets, turning right and down a series of roads that lead to the edge of the settlement. There, in a series of stables were several Brvost, while even more were out in a series of fenced-in pastures. The fences on these pastures were of an interesting design as they consisted of two rows of fence, not one, constructed of wood. As we approached and I watched as several Brvost moved around in the penned-in areas however I was able to make out the reason for this. It would seem that like deer in my world the Brvost jumped and lept when not pulling carts, this was impressive to begin with as they were not slight animals and the amount of muscle required to make them leap like that was rather intimidating. However apparently also like deer they are good at leaping high, but not particularly good at leaping far, as such much like with keeping deer out of an area like say a garden if you have two properly spaced fences it would appear as though it prevents Brvost from getting past the fence either.

“Tovold! Haldor!” a man called out and all three of us looked over as he stepped out of the stables, wiping his hands off on a rag as he approached the cart. “It is good to see you!” He said. He wasn't a big man, in fact, neither was Tovold or Haldor, both of them were five five or so and this man was only a little taller, but he was definitely more well-muscled in the biceps and forearms, as well as on his shoulders. “And who pray tell is this?” he asked turning to me and smiling. I smiled back and moved to climb off of the top of the haystack and Haldor made the introduction for me.

“This is Erik, he will help us unload the hey, he is a foreigner from a land called America, have you ever heard of it uncle?” Ahh, so this man was Tovold’s brother was he? Or perhaps brother-in-law? Aside from the height, they shared neither hair color nor eye color. This man’s hair was a deep brown and his eyes were bright green, he also sported a beard like all other men I had seen in the settlement. I decided it was a good thing that I hadn't shaved mine off, I had considered it after I had noticed I was in the minority at college, it would appear that a beard was not normal on my campus, ultimately I had decided against removing it and now was quite glad of the choice. Sure it was short, but the length and degree of grooming seemed to be left to personal preference and the only barefaced males I had seen had been boys too young to grow beards, which meant that if I wanted to fit in I would need to keep mine, not that that was much of a problem for me.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” I said extending a hand to him. “I am Erik Gunderson, and I am indeed from America.” He grasped my forearm and nodded to me the smile still in place.

“I greet you, Erik I am called Hrofdaal,” his grasp was much firmer than his brothers and I nodded back to him. His palms were rough against my forearm but that was to be expected, in fact I was pretty sure that everyone, both male a female in a place like this would have done some sort of physical work. “Can’t say that I have heard of this America, is it far away?”

“Ha!” I barked a laugh, I couldn't really help it. “It certainly is, very far away, if I were to attempt to go back now it might take me years to get there,” if I could even find a rift that is, I added to myself. Sure Mr. Petterson was kind of dismissive and rude, but the things he said had an air about them that struck me as having truth to them.

“And whatever caused you to leave?” Hrofdaal said it like it didn't matter, but I got a sense that he was going to remember exactly what I was saying, and seeing as this was essentially a small town and in all small towns everything got circulated to literally everyone, I made it as close to the truth as I possibly could.

“My mother passed in childbirth and I was raised by my father,” I said, “he unfortunately just passed away as well and I was informed by the guard that I could not stay, and here is where I found myself after being sent away.” He looked at me and I shrugged. Not a word of it was a lie, but it was also very indistinct and I worried about him asking me for more clarifying details. Thankfully he didn't seem to be that sort of man and he gave me a nod of understanding before turning back to the cart.

“So, working on Tovold’s farm or just helping us unload?” he asked looking at the rather large stack of loose hay that sat atop the cart.

“Just helping unload, they gave me a ride here in exchange for the work,” I said with a friendly smile.

“Ever unloaded hay?” he asked his smile growing as he looked at me, it had a sort of mischievous air about it that struck me as a little odd.

“Yes sir, more times than I care to count,” I said with a nod.

“Good, let's get to it then!” he said and they all set to. Wooden pens were removed from the corners allowing both the sides and the back to be lower and revealing just how much hay was there. Then to my surprise, they just started grabbing arms full of the stuff and carrying it into the nearby barn.

“Ummmm,” I said looking at them, this was not at all what I expected, I mean sure, it would work, and they didn't have bales of hay, but still, there were so many better ways than to just carry it in like that. You would have to make a thousand damn trips to empty the cart like that. “Do you have a rope?” I asked Hrofdaal, and he looked at me with a curious look in his eyes.

“How long?” he asked and when I told him that it needed to be about twice my height he grunted and walked into the stables for a second before coming back with a coarse braided rope that while not exactly twice my height it was long enough for the purposes. I laid it on the ground in a skinny U shape, making it so that either side was a foot and a half to two feet apart from one another and started throwing hay on top of it, making sure both the top and the bottom of the U were still visible. I loaded a stack of hey into that was roughly my height and then threw the two ends of the rope up and over the stack and pulled them through the bottom of the U on the other side. I put my foot on it and hauled, tightening the bundle before turning around and pulling the entire thing up on my shoulder using both of the loose ends of the rope as a strap.

It was heavy, people don’t tend to realize how heavy hay can get until they have had to move a good amount of it. But like this, I was able to take at least ten or fifteen loads of hay in one go. ”Is that how you do it in America?” Tovold asked after I had dropped off the load in the hayloft of the barn.

“Well for loose hay that's how my and my dad always did it,” I said with a shrug.

“Loose hay?” Hrofdaal asked.

“Yeah most of the hay we use in America is baled,” I gestured to the rope. “It's kind of like this, but instead of rope its normally twine, and it's a lot tighter packed makes it so that you can easily transport and move and you can get a lot more of it to any place you need to, same amount of hay, much smaller size and significantly easier to move and store.” They all looked at me like I had just spoken some mad gibberish, and not knowing what else to do I kept talking. “If you have some twine and some wood to make a box I can show you how to make a hand bale me and Dad used to store the hay we cut down that way.” I offered.

“I would like to see that,” Hrofdaal said, looking at me, and both Tolvold and Haldor nodded in agreement.