Rangers (RPG) Chapter 1: A Growing Threat

[Lantaelen]

Abrazimir Dimaethor
Tri-Road Fort

A dark-brown eyebrow rose on his features as the Lieutenant listed off those in his new squad. Many of the names were quite familiar, and he felt both a measure of excitement and anxiety at getting to meet old and new friends and comrades. He had no questions for the Lieutenant and so Abrazimir swiftly snapped to attention, saluted with his arm across his breast, bowed, and turned on his heel to depart, his single satchel of belong over his shoulder. It was time to go to work and to serve his King and Realm.

Second squad. He strode to the barracks and spotted the faces that he knew, though he made no move to open conversations or to approach with greetings as he found an empty bunk and dropped his bundle there. Others were already abed (Turin), while some loitered and trained or sparred. He spotted Lady Ilisys chatting with Kaylin and another (Zev). Sergeant Alarion – did she still have that rank – was there as well, with Arnyn and another he did not know yet (Morwen), and Abrazimir spared them a momentarily glance. Only the best of the best seemed to have been summoned for this assignation. He was proud to share the ranks of such formidable opponents.

If any returned his eye contact, he would give them a simple, stoic nod of greeting.

Which reminded him. He had been at peace for too long since the fateful day at the Pelennor. Though he had not entirely let himself go in this era of hard-won peace, he had not been idle in terms of labour. But his swordsmanship felt subpar to his mind, not having utilized such skills recently. He drew his Dol Amrothian forged blade from a simple sheath, while hefting a plain green kite shield that supposedly worked well to blend in with the greenness of Ithilien. Shedding and folding his cloak to leave upon his cot, and rolling up his sleeves, Abrazimir went to go find a buttress to practice upon, perhaps even a live opponent to spar with. In a company of valorous knights he must assure he himself was equal to their strength and abilities. Or perhaps he was overthinking it.

The sting and pinprick of perspiration would soon assail him in the beginning of his routines, going through the motions of swordplay that he so arduously learned over the course of his life. Slowly his body relearned its former endurance, the blade strokes and shield bashes becoming firmer, more energetic, and the poor buttress marred with the strikes of his sharp, bright blade, adding to the countless marks added to it by others before him. His stomach rumbled. It had been a long ride, through heat and dust. But he ought to get used to a soldier’s diet again. Labour, and then test himself by not consuming, stretching the limits of his endurance, knowing the work of Rangers to be often far afield and away from bases of supply and logistics.

EDIT: Formatting...

[Nen]

Hirluin

Deep blue eyes set in a tanned, chiselled face, gazed about the harbour. Hirluin saw no sign of the Rangers that had gone on ahead. He had been behind them by a few hours he had gathered. His thin lips twisted into a grimace. He had had no time to teach his young siblings a lesson. Silly vengeance and look where it got him? At the likely receiving end of dirty looks from the Commander and the few who had answered the summons. A few. He knew that much. He had been tracking them and was surprised at how few had been called to the king's service. Perhaps it was a sign that Middle-earth was at the beginning of true peace being restored in the land, and the king did not expect too much of a threat. He recalled the letter that he had briefly scanned when he finally found it lying crushed near the fire place -- the edict of dispersal. His heart had sank to the bottom of his booted feet when he had read those first few lines. But seeing that he had been summoned specifically for his services had given him hope again. Hirluin could not imagine being any but a Ranger. He was not made for the staidness of hearth and home. He was an adventurer at heart. But being the head of his household allowed him no room to go off on his own, except to represent the family at the king's call.

Hirluin gathered his gear and set off in long strides to the end of the harbour, and made sure to secure a horse. He learnt from the ostler at the stables that several of his horses had already been loaned out to Gondorian Rangers. Hirluin grunted. He knew that. And after passing on a few coins, took for himself a chestnut mare with an intelligent eye, and mounting her, made his way swiftly to the fort. It did not take him too long to reach his immediate destination. The others were already settling in for the night when he approached the get and sought the Commander's presence.

"Hirluin, son of Anor, responding to the king's summons." He did not seek to make excuses. He hated making them. And he could not stand when others did too. He would take whatever was coming to him.

[Moriel]

Not only was nothing amiss, Zev’s shouting had started to draw a crowd, with first Ilsys, then Kaylin joining them outside the stables. “Chat, eh?” Kamion said with interest- given the young man’s awkward manner, he hardly seemed the type who was searching for a big of drawing room conversation. What was he after? Kamion did not have the chance to enquire at that moment however, for Ilsys piped up, suggesting that Zev was looking to duel him. The Dúnadan gave his so-called friend a withering (but amused) look that clearly said: Troublemaker. And of course, Kaylin jumped on this tack as well. What else was to be expected from two such mischievous women? Kamion laughed aloud, setting his sword aside on top of a low wall. “A duel? Oh, no! I’m sure Zev has more sense than that. It seems to me a dashing young man such as this,” he clapped Zev on the shoulder, “might be coming to an old man like me for advice with ladies. We do have a number of fearsome beauties among our ranks, as I’m sure he’s noticed.” Kamion squeezed Zev’s shoulder- not too hard, but firmly enough that he wouldn’t be able to run away without a bit of effort. “Though perhaps he doesn’t need any advice after all, as he seems to have the two of your following him around already?” He grinned and released Zev’s shoulder, wondering who would be the first to strike, whether with words or… otherwise.

[Ercassie]

Ilisys

When it seemed as though there would be no duel, and that even Zevarion couldn’t say quite what he wanted with Kamion, Ilisys began to lose interest. Quite who one man wished to become friends with was no matter of hers, after all. Kamion was a man of great deeds she knew, and because she knew, there seemed little further that she might discover here. But, “Oh, it is not the hair,” she remarked, quite decidedly, to Kaylin, as she threw her spear across one shoulder, in an unnervingly perilous sort of move, and began to wander off.



Unalmis

It wasn’t quite that he had been dismissed, but that the Lieutenant had seemed finished with them. Unalmis shrugged, and wondered where that exciting-looking ‘explorers’ group had wandered off to. Mourgan too seemed an amiable fellow, but then Beren would be looking to spend some time alone with his son. An awful lot of the others had apparently wandered off alone (some even to sleep !) and Pele had found some friends, but an entirely too serious conversation. One thing Nal knew for certain, he was not ready for that. Finally he observed the group who had seemed like they might be about something thrilling ..

“With me,” Ilisys decided, as she took away from the ‘explorers’ group, and strode on with no pause. If only to remind her that he was not his cousin, and therefore not her squire, and that he would most certainly not be running after her the whole time, Nal was forced to run after her. Which was, no doubt, her intention. But beyond that much, who could say ?


Both*

“With me” she had invited him though, for all that, afterwards denied him. The woman of Belfalas was long-limbed, not as tall as her polearm but about as shapeless, and as she made way across the courtyard, the young man engaged bursts of fresh speed to catch her. Only for Ilisys to abruptly move on, without explaining her cause for quite what had drawn her there, anywhere she paused, at all, nor why she sought out further intrigues either. Their chase ascended and descended the steep stone staircases, measured the length of long corridors, avoided collision with those less gamely employed, squatted down without fair warning to peer into nooks and crannies, and even dared the wonder of the smithy before finally concluding in the mess hall.

“Did you not want to go exploring ?” was the only explanation he received, and Unalmis had to admit, as they set down to a supper of cheese and cold meats, that he certainly felt all the dust of their long journey had been shook off him.

“I must speak with Gilbrathril” the lady finally rose, excusing herself with a grave solemnity that anyone might assume she would seek out her Prince, rather than her horse.
“I am sure the staff here are taking good care of her,” he tried, and noted the injured air which such an assumption inspired. The final dregs of his drink inspired a conclusion nonetheless, of their eve’s entertainment. “I’m going to turn in,” Nal surrendered, and withdrew for his own part, to seek bed.
“What though shall you turn into ?” the lady asked the empty room that she inherited.



Edit** Added in the 'Night before' portion here, so as to keep the later 'morning after' post from becoming too long

[Burnt Toast]

Morwen listened quietly as Pele shared the horrors of her experience. Flashes of dark memories from her own past threatened to surface as Pele spoke, and instead of forcing them down, she took a breath, and let them pass through her mind, before letting them go again. It had taken a long time-- years, over a decade or more, to get to this point, and it didn't mean that it wasn't still hard sometimes. Pele had a long and difficult road ahead of her.

"Pele," she began, working hard to keep her voice steady. The woman didn't need to worry about her emotions on top of what she was already experiencing. "Arnyn speaks the truth of it, and I second that we are grateful that you have shared this. I ... apologize for my earlier behavior. It was unfair to take out my frustration and stress on you; we all have our own stories and difficulties we face, and I knew you would not have done what you did without good reason."

She watched Arnyn put an arm around Pele, but she stayed back, not wanting to overwhelm her.

"As for anyone who might think you a traitor, or speak against you, well," she couldn't keep her golden eyes from flashing dangerously, though she kept her voice calm, for Pele's sake, "They will have me to answer to." Her gaze softened. "You are not alone, my friend."

<> <> <>

Zev listened to all the conjecture about his purpose in speaking to Kamion with some growing amusement, if a little leftover embarrassment. But he never stayed embarrassed for long, where would be the fun in that? He had made his apology, and, after all, here he was. His shouting had worked to set up a meeting with Kamion, hadn't it? So what was there to be embarrassed about?

At the suggestion that he wished to duel the man, Zevlet out a loud laugh, a mix of genuine amusement and nerves. "A duel! I mean,", he let reached his arms up, as though measuring the height difference between himself and Kamion. At 5' 6" the difference was, well, a large one. "Well, Kamion has height on his side, but I dare say I have these dashing good looks and swashbuckling charm." He winked, and gestured to his bare chest full of sinuous tattoos and flexed a bit, playing into the moment.

He grinned at Kamion's suggestion that he might be seeking advice flirting with women, and flinched very subtly at the weight of the hand the tall Ranger laid on his shoulder. "Hm, I seem to be doing okay with the ladies, but how about some advice for attracting the gentlemen, or anyone else?" He had no particular preference, and wanted to see what advice Kamion might have to offer. He figured it would probably be interesting.

He wanted to ask about Morwen, but there was far too much of a crowd for that. So instead, he decided to enjoy the banter, though he could still feel the readiness in Kamion; they were playing at words now, but a bit of a tussle seemed just at the edge of the right turn of phrase...

[Arnyn]

Kamion's laugh made Kaylin grin. The man had always had an easy way about him, despite his heritage. Advice with the ladies?! Now it was her turn to laugh, causing Isys' comment to get a bit lost before the other woman wandered off. And Kaylin could only laugh harder once Zev replied. Zev clearly wasn't about to let Kamion mess with him. "Ahh, I take back my earlier words! It seems like our Zev here might not necessarily be looking for a new best friend, exactly." The redhead grinned broadly. "It would explain his strange fascination with you..." she added off-handedly, waving a hand at the two men. "Sounds to me like you two might need a moment in private, and I'll gladly oblige the unspoken request!" She waved a finger at Zev. "Behave! Don't assume Kamion is as..." She needed a moment to find the right word - "... as wild as you!"

Chuckling, she turned and left the pair be. She thought Zev was great fun, and was looking forward to seeing how he would behave when things got serious. The next moment, Kaylin was frowning, wondering if people sometimes asked themselves the very same thing about her. Well. Regardless... it was time to drop her gear somewhere and grab some food. She wondered where Thûllir had drifted off to.

Morwen's reaction was helpful, too, Arnyn thought. Pele would at least not feel alone.

Doubting for a moment whether or not she would bring it up, she decided Pele's safety was more important than what possible pride she might have left. "Um, Pele... I don't really want to bring this up, but I have to ask, out of concern for your safety.. You said earlier that you lost your health. Does that mean it will be dangerous for you when it comes to...physical exertion? We're not in the same squad, so I don't know to what extent I could be of help to you in that department as we go along. But perhaps others could be of some assistance for now..." Arnyn glanced from Pele's eyes to Morwen's. They were in the same squad, so maybe...

If Pele were to share any physical issues with the command, they would surely send her home or leave her at the fort for the duration of the mission. And while Arnyn saw the wisdom and prudence in that, she feared that being alone was the last thing Pele needed right now. Pele needed to be among people, people who trusted her and whom she could trust in turn. Pele had more than mere physical strength to regain.

*** Later that day, in the evening ***

Lieutenant Macardil

By the time the sun was starting to set, most of the Rangers were getting ready for the night or were already asleep to be well rested the next day. After all, the Lieutenant had promised them an early morning.

Instead of pointing Hirluin to Commander Amathen, more than one person referred him to Lieutenant Macardil.

When Hirluin reported in, the Lieutenant gauged his facial expression. He waited several heartbeats to see if any explanation would be forthcoming. That was not the case. Macardil couldn't help the slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Cutting it close, Ranger Hirluin," he greeted the man, but he wasted no further words on the matter. "The work starts in the morning. We wake at first light." The two briefly discussed Hirluin's weapons, his healing and scouting skills, and then the Lieutenant assigned him to the third squad, easily giving him the names of the other Rangers who were a part of it: Arinelle, Arothir, Karis, Turin, Kaylin and Beren.

After dismissing Hirluin, the Lieutenant wondered if other would-be Rangers of Gondor would still be joining their group in the days to come. He rubbed his chin. They'd had two weeks after receiving the missive, but he knew not everyone's life was easy to overhaul. It all depended on timing. Macardil had definitely lived through his own years of hardship and tragedy, and therefore wasn't quick to judge.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

Pele took a deep breath; it had not been easy to share what she had gone through, even when she had not gone into too many details. But support and understanding from both Arnyn and Morwen made the effort worthwhile. A combination of hugs, reassuring words and even a simple presence of her friends soothed her internal turmoil, and Pele felt truly relieved and relaxed in what seemed like ages. She knew she could let down her guard for once and she would still have her friends no matter how broken and weak she was under the layer of pretend strength she had put up.

"Thank you!" she said, a small smile on her lips, though she hastily brushed off tears that had appeared in her eyes. "I cannot even express in words how much I appreciate your support. It is an awfully heavy burden to carry alone." While Pele supposed that it was likely that she would have to give an account of herself to the commanders if any word of her 'adventures' reached them, even that might be done much easier with the sure backing of her friends.

When Arnyn asked about her health, Pele felt that it would be in the best interest of everyone to be honest here. While she might not mind risking herself - though she had regained a wish to live and did not intend to seek death in battle - she did not wish anyone else to be put in danger on her account.

"I have recovered quite well," she set about explaining. "Only various scars left to remind me of past events, so I am capable of handling weapons well. However, I lack strength and endurance - did not have enough time to recover these just yet." At any rate Pele now had additional motivation to do so, hoping that she would soon find a purpose for life again. "I put myself through some training a couple days before we were to set out and found that I can't complete the obstacle course in full equipment, pack and all. Suppose, I wouldn't be able to stand against a strong enemy for too long on the basis of pure force alone, and might have to rely heavily on agility."

Pele knew that she would have to be very mindful in how she interacted with the squad so that she would not hinder or endanger them, as they went about completing their tasks. She looked at Arnyn and then at Morwen, to see what they would suggest. She would rather not be left behind if it could be helped at all, but then again it was hard to figure out how she could best supplement the squad without a specific role set before them just yet.

[Moriel]

Well, that had not gone at all how Kamion was expecting. He never claimed to be the most witty of men, but he was sure his jibe would have gotten a rise out of one of them at least. First Ilsys simply wandered off, displaying what could be her rather unnerving sense of humor. Zev, on the other hand, fully embraced the situation, asserting that he was having no problems on the lady front, and asked about gentlemen and others instead. At this Kamion laughed again, in surprise this time, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful frown. “Can’t say I have much experience there, but I’m sure between us we could come up with some winning tactics for you.” Kaylin had other ideas though, suggesting that perhaps it was, himself Zev was looking to reel in! With his scheme turned completely on its head, Kamion watched the woman walk away, the swishing of her vibrant hair looking very pleased with itself. “Don’t listen to a word she says, I’ve done plenty of wild things in my life,” the Dúnadan winked at Zev, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back against the low wall upon which he had placed his sword, “You don’t get to be my age without living a little! Now,” he pushed the shock of black hair back from his face and looked at Zev steadily, cobalt eyes questioning. “What was it you wanted, in any case, that you were shouting for me?”

[Nen]

Hirluin

Deep shadows surrounded the landscape and blackened the corners of the fort. But Hirluin's face lay exposed to the flickering torch light on the stone wall, and all he could see in its orange glare was the shadow of a man his height and build. Curiosity twitched in a muscle in his jaw. But he stood still as the other sized him up. Hirluin sensed rather than saw the Lieutenant's approval and could only surmise that Macardil was as much a man of no excuses as he was himself. When asked about his weapons, Hirluin's right hand instant rested upon the pummel of his short sword. It was his father's, and had never thought to wield it as long as he had. He announced his preference for it and a dagger that he had had especially made to be used alongside his sword in combat. Hirluin was also glad to affirm that his scouting and tracking skills were good, but he was indifferent to his rudimentary knowledge of healing. It had always been good enough for him to know to stop bleeding and tie a knotted bandage. For the rest, he was not the healer type.

On hearing the squadron he would be running with, Hirluin considered the names. It had been two years since he had last seen a battle but quite a few of the names were familiar to him -- Turin, Karis, Beren...no not Beren. That was the one from the legend! But Kaylin was a familiar name. An image of a sprightly young red-head emerged in his mind, and he groaned inwardly. It was seldom that Hirluin drank himself under the table. But when he did, he did so with all the sincerity of doing just that, because...well, he wanted to wallow in self-pity and not have someone sounding bright and chirpy conducting happy games in the bar. He only knew her name because he had only heard it mentioned a hundred times that evening. He had gone home early not having been able to accomplish his goal. Instead, he had returned home to a complacent mother who asked him if he was done sulking so soon already!

Involved in these reflections and memories, Hirluin absent-mindedly followed the length of the corridors to where he knew the barracks to be. The lights were dim, and the sight of the uncomfortable looking beds reminded him that he was tired. Absolutely so. Two years of an indolent lifestyle would tell initially. He did not pause to look about him or acquaint himself with the other rangers. He sank onto his bed and slumped back in the process of removing his boots. Hirluin was out like the dying embers in a fireplace.

[Arnyn]

EARLY HOURS OF THE NEXT DAY, WELL BEFORE FIRST LIGHT

Lieutenant Macardil

He ended up turning in early himself, shortly after welcoming Hirluin. The Lieutenant would rise well before first light, after all, to oversee things and be available to anyone who might need him. The agreement he had struck with Amathen entailed that he would be the more visible of the two, so he could deal with any possible issues Amathen was too old to have patience for anymore.

Macardil hardly minded. He longed to keep his mind busy, and so far this group of Rangers had been, if anything, too self-sufficient. That they needed such little guidance left too much time to dwell on personal matters, which he had been hoping to avoid. In turn, this had led to a Lieutenant helping the fort's stewards for several hours with the stables and other work. The staff hadn't dared refuse him, since he was their second in command as well, at least for as long as the Rangers were to stay.

In the hours before first light, Macardil was wide awake even before most of the staff, and after prepping his full equipment and donning his leathers, he took his ready-made pack and his weapons with him to the kitchens. They were still abandoned and dark. Setting his longbow, axe and pack against the wall next to the entrance, he proceeded to light the mess hall as well as the kitchen itself, and started looking for what the rangers would need in terms of tableware.

By the time Liza and Warren entered, the tables were set up and Macardil had even started on slicing off breakfast meats and cooking eggs. "Lieutenant!" Liza exclaimed, half scandalized. Warren just stared at him, open-mouthed. Macardil looked unperturbed. "I took an apron from your supplies, I hope that's not a problem," he said as he continued slicing.
"N-no, of course not," Liza mumbled, uncharacteristically thrown. After a moment, she vehemently gestured at Warren to get started. "Well don't just stand there, boy," she muttered. She shook her head as she tied her own apron. "In all my years, I have never--" she was too busy shaking her head to finish the sentence.

A few yards away, a faint smile mastered Macardil's features. He turned. "Do you wish me to leave your domain, Ms Liza?"

The woman gave him an incredulous look. "You might as well finish what you started, sir."

"I wholeheartedly agree," the Lieutenant nodded, and he turned back to resume the food prep.

Prompt:
Wrap up your rp's of the day before and let your characters get some sleep.
Very early risers can already wake up and come to the mess to grab breakfast. Current time: about an hour before first light. (The Rangers are expected to rise at first light.)

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr

Thûllir had eaten a quick and light meal in the dining hall and very much enjoyed it, although he did not linger to savour it when others started filtering in. He was not one for large groups or for intruding on serious conversations normally, so had moved on when Pele and his new squadmate Arnyn had come in and began talking. Instead he had moved on to walk and then jog circuits around the training space in the courtyard, and then moved up to the battlements to stretch and do some limbering exercises. His gear and weapons were all in order, and his skills were still in top shape since he had been an active Ranger in Ithilien until the past week. This change had been a transfer of duties, not a reinstatement, as he suspected it was for many in the group. Some he had seen in recent years, but many were faces from memories of years past. Granted, they must all have proven skill or they would not have the King’s trust in being chosen. Some just seemed...rustier...than others. He mused on what he had seen over the past couple days as he loosened muscles that were a bit stiff and sore from the unaccustomed riding. Thûllir was a runner rather than a rider most of the time, and he wanted to be ready for the former if needed. Without the stretching his dexterity would be compromised, and he knew from missing death by a hairsbreadth on many occasions, that dexterity was a life saver when it could be counted on.

After exercising, Thûllir found the baths and washed up in gloriously cold water, thankful to be able to remove the dust of the road and the smell of sweat from both the horse and himself. It had gotten to the point he couldn’t stand himself, which was detrimental to both being a scout and a thoughtful Ranger.
The light was fading from the sky as he went back to his cot and hung his used linens and rinsed out clothes from hooks on the wall nearby. There was yet time to go get a last light snack to replenish his energy, and then it was high time for sleep. Not having crossed paths with Kaylin since earlier, he definitely planned to seek her out and catch up on the day before finding that sleep. Morning would come early, and he intended to be ready and well-rested for whatever the day would bring.

[Turin Ringhûn]

Tri-road fort, approximately an hour and a half before sunrise

Turin awoke. He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but it was still dark out. If he had to guess, it was probably about an hour to hour and a half or so before sunrise.

Sitting up in the bed, he stretched leaning side to side while yawning. Scratching the back of his head he smacked his lips. “Another day in ... nope. Not there anymore. I’m in some fort in southern Gondor. That’s right. I’m tasked with helping figure out this orc raid issue. Today I’m guessing we’ll be getting our orders. But considering the lack of scouting and tracking skills in my group, I highly doubt we’ll be assigned that duty. So what will we be doing?” He mumbled to himself.

Standing he continued stretching. He leaned back, to the sides, reached down and put his hands on the floor. He twisted in either direction. Each he held for about ten seconds.

He then did some front lunges, about twenty repetitions per side. Fifty push ups, one hundred sit-ups, fifty side crunches per side, and then fifty reverse crunches where he laid on his stomach and raised his upper body up working his lower back counteracting the sit-ups done previously.

He then did shoulder circles in both directions, stretched his biceps using a wall, stretched his triceps, and stretched his forearms. He then rotated his forearms around in a particular manner to loosen his elbows for full range of motion. He tilted his head side to side and front to back stretching his neck. He also stood on one leg, and with his other foot drew figure eights working the full range of motion for his knees. He also stretched out his groin and hips again to get full range of motion. He wanted to be nice and loose for whatever he was assigned. Of this taking about twenty to thirty minutes.

He grabbed his clothes and gear and left the room. He went out to the courtyard and spent the next twenty or so minutes drilling himself with his sword using either hand. He then spent about five to ten minutes practicing with his bow. Each shot hit the target, but no loosed arrow hit with perfect accuracy. His margin of error was a good six to ten inches. He grumbled as he gathered up his gear.

Turin then made his way to the bath. He was thankful for the cool water to rinse off with. When finished, he packed his sleep wear and other items in his pack and made his way to the kitchen to get a bite to eat. He was in his alternate custom brigandine with the chain mail sewn in the middle. He had a shirt underneath it and a bluish-black cloak over it. His sword was at his hip while his unstrung bow was with his pack, ready to be taken to his horse if need be.

He got his breakfast and went to a table off to the side of the room to eat and wait for anyone else to arrive as the sun started to peek over the horizon. He saw the Lieutenant in the mess hall as well, but simply nodded to him as he ate his breakfast.

[Nen]

Hirluin
From Bed to Breakfast

Deep slumber withdrew slowly but surely into an effervescent mist as Hirluin's senses grew into awareness of his surroundings. He was awake, but he kept his eyes closed and his brows slightly furrowed as he tried to understand what it was that had drawn him out of his sleep. Heavy, rhythmic breathing. Hirluin opened his eyes with a start and found himself on his left side, arms folded, staring at the wall right near the door into the barracks. His muscles had tensed at the sound of the breathing. But then the accompanying movements, and slight grunts now and then informed him that one of the others was in the midst of exercises. That made the Ranger wonder what time it might be. He could tell, by the deep shadows on the wall, that light was not yet at the lip of the horizon. That probably gave him a half hour or more to rest. He closed his eyes again, without shifting position, and allowed the rhythm of the exercising man's breaths lull him into a doze.

Movement at the door sent the signals of alert to Hirluin's brain, and his eyes flew open to see the figure of a man striding out the room. He had no idea who it was, but it looked like they were an early bird and they were out to catch the worm! Hirluin smirked lazily at that thought, and shut his eyes for a few moments longer before he decided it was time he made a move as well. He swung his legs off the cot and stood up, all in one swift, graceful motion. His blue glance swept the room to notice other sleeping at odd angles. His gaze caught at the window, and he noticed that the darkness of the night sky was beginning to show signs of greying. He buckled his sword to his waist, made sure his dagger was sheathed in place, grabbed his unpacked pack from beside his bed, and made his way to the nearest water basin. He relished the cool water he splashed on his face, and washed the dust of the previous day's journey off. There was no knowing when would be the next time he would be able to do that. He put some water in his hair as well to sleek it back, and then he felt ready to face his ranger mates and the day.

At the mess, a glance showed that it was not entirely empty. At a corner table sat whom Hirluin assumed was the ranger who had woken him up with his exercises. He did not recognise him. But then again, Hirluin was not expecting to know everyone who had been summoned. If they had been particularly reached out to, the rangers called would have been in different divisions during the last war. He toyed with the idea of joining the other ranger, while grabbing his plate for self-service. However, he did not get very far into the room before he realised that there was a ranger in the kitchen. Not just any ranger but one who wore the Lieutenant badge. Lieutenant...Macardil? He could not tell. But if it was, it seemed their Lieutenant loved cooking. A hobby? Hirluin wondered idly as he finished serving himself and then made his way toward his barrack mate (Turin).

"Suil, mellon. I hope I am not cutting up your quiet but if you were the man exercising in my barracks then we might be working together for awhile. I am Hirluin, son of Anor." He settled himself comfortably to begin the process of filling up for the reserves he would need later.

[Turin Ringhûn]

Turin
Tri-road fort, about sunrise

Turin was enjoying his eggs and loaf of bread when he was approached by someone, (Hirluin). The man called out in Sindarin, so he after a nod, he replied in kind. "Mae govannen Hirluin. Indeed I stretched out this morning. Sorry if my routine woke you. Have to make sure everything moves properly and balance is still there." He watched as the man sat and began to eat.

"I am Turin, former captain of the disbanded Hyandaner, or swordsman division of Gondor. I guess you are one of the later arrivals, and you say you've been placed in squad three. Interesting. Looking more and more like a combat squad we are. But I guess the bosses will let us know ere we head out this morning." He took a sip of his water and sighed. Part of him looked forward to getting into action once again, but another part feared the fact he was jumping back into the thick of things. After all, all the pain and death he'd suffered previously was not something one could easily recover from.

[Arnyn]

That was concerning. "Pele..." Arnyn sighed uncomfortably as she loosened the arm she had around Pele's shoulder a bit. "I'm sorry, but strength and endurance are... pivotal." She swallowed as she tried to think what words to use that wouldn't completely discourage Pele, but which would also get across her opinion in a way Pele still needed to hear.

"If you're lacking in strength and will need to focus on agility, you know as well as Morwen and I do that agility requires stamina." Arnyn played with a piece of bread in her other hand, working out her nerves that way at least a little. "And you just told us your endurance isn't all it used to be, which makes me feel very worried. Worry for you, most of all, but also for your squad mates and whoever might be fighting with you at some point. If other Rangers aren't aware of your limits, they will make wrong judgment calls which might get multiple Rangers or possible a whole squad in trouble. I'm sure you've seen that happen before - I know I have, and I really don't want to see it happen again." She tossed the bit of bread onto the table and flattened her hand on the table top. She needed to speak her mind. She only hoped Pele would see it for the honest opinion it was, and wouldn't see it as if she were being judged.

"I'm not saying you should go tell the Commander or the Lieutenant what happened to you. I don't want them to leave you behind and I really do think it would be best for your recovery if you're among friends. But it might not to a bad thing to tell them you're currently not at full strength and would be better suited in a supportive role, and in a position on the battlefield where you're surrounded by others who can stand with you. I don't want to imagine you as a front-runner or off on our flanks if you're low on strength and stamina."

She tightened her arm around Pele again. "If you would rather not share even that with the command, I understand and support your decision. But at the very least your squad mates should know. Their lives may depend on it." Ideally, all the Rangers should be aware, because they couldn't really predict what would happen and how they would be confronting the enemy when the time came. But Pele's own squad would be a good place to start, and probably the most important.

***

The conversation with Pele and Morwen had been both emotionally draining and strangely energizing. It felt good to be among people she knew well and cared for. Before she lost the light, however, she had to make good on her promise to her stallion to take him out for a good gallop around and near the fort. After caring for Narsule properly, she saw to her own hygiene before turning in. It felt incredibly good to have been with friends, to know Narsúlë was happy and cared for, and to drop a clean version of herself onto a cot. It didn't take long at all to sink into a deep sleep, regardless of the other people and their comings and goings in the room.

She was a deep sleeper, and always had been except when out on the road, and only woke with first light. Luckily, she was already clean and she was practiced in getting herself and her gear ready in little time. She walked into the mess hall and spotted Turin already present, along with another Ranger she had yet to meet (Hirluin).

While filling up her plate, she smiled at Lieutenant Macardil who was just adding more cooked eggs to a platter. "Morning, Lieutenant," Arnyn said. "Showcasing some unknown skills?"
The Lieutenant returned her smile and shrugged. "Simply keeping idle hands busy, Ranger Arnyn." With a quick nod, he was off again. Perhaps to make more eggs, or perhaps to ditch the apron he had on and to grab some breakfast himself. Arnyn wondered how the officer didn't look mockworthy in that apron somehow. Perhaps it was the man's quiet confidence.

After filling her plate, she sat down next to Turin and Hirluin. "Good morning," she said, giving them both a smile and a nod. Her dark brown eyes rested on Hirluin. "I don't believe we've met? Arnyn Dealedwen, pleased to make your acquaintance."

[Lantaelen]

Abrazimir Dimaethor
Mess Hall

Even in a new, foreign environment like the Tri-Roads Fort, Abrazimir did not find sleep elusive or difficult to achieve. And it was strange too, so close to the land which he did not ever name, even in thought, to find such a deep and peaceful slumber. At least in that day and age. A long ride, an exhaustive regimen of training with his blade, the moment he hit the cot provided to him he was asleep. At dawn, as usual, he awoke with the sun and found water with which to wash and cleanse the remnants of slumber away. Then he made his way to the mess.

Entering the mess, he spotted the Lieutenant, as well as some old comrades, Hirluin and Arnyn, Turin, to whom he greeted as he entered with a solemn nod as he made his way to fetch a plate. He was pleasantly surprised to see the Lieutenant being the one who was cooking and refilling the food, alongside the servants. ”Good morning.” He greeted Liza and Warren. ”Sir.” He said to the Lieutenant in a more formal manner. He only had a raised eyebrow in question as to the apron and work the officer was doing but otherwise kept his mouth shut. Aimlessly, he gathered a bit of everything, knowing even by the standards of the wild to have such warm and plentiful food in quantity, as one might not know when the next meal would arrive. Along with a tall cup of drink, he came to join the trio of rangers who were already seated, arriving but a minute after Arnyn had joined them.

”Hail and well met.” Abrazimir said as he sat down, entering during a break in the conversation so as to not be rude and interrupt any ongoing speech. ”Always happy to see some friendly faces. And new.” He nodded specifically to Turin, whom he had not had the pleasure of making his acquaintance yet. ”Abrazimir, of House Dimaethor, from Belfalas. Were you at the Great Siege? I think I recall sight of you before.” He inquired politely, referring to the great battle of the Pelennor.

”Eggs are good today.” He added after his first test of the food.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

As she listened to Arnyn's words, Pele's heart sank; she saw the Rangers as nearly the only way to regain at least some of the pride and re-establish her identity, but at the same time she knew very well that Arnyn spoke the truth. Was she ready to rebuild herself at the cost of endangering her comrades, even their very lives? Quietly she considered the consequences her silence would have on the mission as such, on effectiveness of her squad, on relationships in general, and finally on her own well-being.

"You are right, Arnyn," she finally admitted with a slight nod of acceptance. "I cannot just think of what would appear good for myself." She said no more about the subject, as she still had to think of what and how to do about it.

As they eventually parted, Pele set about the tasks of checking on her horse, rearranging her equipment and cleaning herself up after the long travel, her hands automatically working, while her mind was busy elsewhere. As the darkness set in, the weary Ranger lay down to get a night's rest, and yet it did not end up as refreshing as necessary. Pele tossed and turned in a fitful sleep, waking up every so often with a sensation of fear and a racing heart beat. Eventually she got up well before daybreak and went out for a walk around the fort. The fresh air seemed to bring calmness to her troubled mind, and she took deep breaths as she stopped here and there to observe the surroundings.

Upon her return, she headed straight for the mess and found some people already at breakfast. "Good morning," she said by the way of general greeting and went for the food. As she gathered a generous amount of eggs, cheese and bread, Pele observed that it was Lieutenant Macardil working on breakfast prep. The fact somewhat surprised her, but at the same time it somehow made her like him some more, as she thought it a great leadership quality to be able to serve and lead by example even in the simple matters like these. Besides, this was as good a chance as she would get to talk to him... Her plate in hand, she took a deep breath and gathered courage to cover the distance to reach him.

"Lieutenant, sir," she addressed him, a shadow of smile touching her lips, though her eyes remained serious. "Thank you for the breakfast. It looks very delicious," she paused just a moment and then added: "Might I have a few words with you, when you have a moment? It might be rather important..." Pele did her best to hide any traces of nervousness, as she awaited Macardil's response.

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Macardil

He'd greeted Abrazimir with a friendly nod earlier. It was good to see the Rangers streaming in, one by one. It was about that time when they should be arriving. They would be setting out soon enough. As he was considering finished up and leaving the rest of the kitchen duties to Liza and Warren, his thoughts were interrupted by Pele.

Wiping his hands on the bottom of the apron, the Lieutenant fixed his friendly blue eyes on her as she addressed him. "You're welcome," he said with a soft smile, filling up the pause she left. When Pele continued, something in her body language told him that she wanted to discuss something serious. He nodded, looking at her plate. "Those eggs are best eaten warm," he noted. "How about you finish at least your plate first while I finish up in the kitchen, and then we'll take a walk." For all he could have done yesterday, he hadn't found himself some kind of office, and he didn't think it would be appropriate to talk in the room he slept in. "I will come find you in five." Pele would have to rush through breakfast, or leave it to finish later - but he would leave that decision up to her.

After she nodded her agreement, he gave her a smile and then turned to finish the tasks he'd appointed himself earlier that morning. Once those were taken care of and when he told Liza he needed to duck out, she waved him away. "Yes, yes, Lieutenant. You've done more than you needed to," she told him. "Or should have," she added, muttering under her breath.

"I'm sorry?" Macardil asked.

Liza cleared her throat. "Nothing, sir."

He smiled as he took off the apron and put it back where he'd found it. "Thank you for indulging me, mistress Liza." He gave her a slight bow before looking for Pele; she was sitting alone at the end of one of the tables, her plate nearly empty. Quite an appetite! He grabbed some water for the both of them before approaching. "Ranger Pele," he said once he'd reached her, a faint smile in his eyes. "Let us talk as we walk. Sitting down here might bring others into the conversation soon, and it sounded like you might prefer talking in private." Macardil handed her one of the waters and led them both out of the mess, into the walkways of the fort, as he sipped his own drink. Working in the kitchens had made him thirsty. "Please - I'm listening."

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

Pele glanced at the plate and would have chuckled at herself if it were the right time and place: caught up in her thoughts she had not considered how exactly she'd be able to combine eating and talking. Speaking with her mouth full was definitely not an option. But at least the Lieutenant gave her a bit of time to eat, and she wondered if he had heard her stomach growl in hunger.

With the orders received, she hurried to a table that was not occupied yet - getting involved in a conversation would definitely mean that the five minutes given would not be used for eating. Pele would have preferred eating slowly and with relish, but that was not a commodity that soldiers could afford too often. As quickly as she could, she began shoveling the food into her mouth, though she did her best not to swallow it whole.

When the Lieutenant approached her after finishing his work, Pele was still munching on the last morsel of eggs. There was no time for the last bit of bread and cheese, so she slipped those into her pocket for later. "Perhaps it would be better in private," she agreed, though she supposed the others would have to be in the know, when the due time came. Gratefully she accepted the water and took a good drink from it, as she followed Macardil out of the room.

"Uh..." she hesitated, as she suddenly wondered what she'd say if he asked why she had not spoken up sooner, but perhaps better later than never. "There is something that I should probably have told you right away... I have just recovered from injuries, and have not regained full capacity in terms of strength before being summoned; so I am afraid that I might become the weak link in the chain, so to say."

Pele glanced at the Lieutenant to see his reactions, and then continued: "While my swordsmanship has not suffered, I might not last as long as I used to when faced with a strong foe. Would it be possible for me to take on some function that would not require me to stand in a way of direct onslaught? Else I would never forgive myself if someone were to be killed because of me..."

She assumed that Macardil had familiarised himself with her set of skills, so she hoped that he'd still keep her instead of sending her home or leaving her to guard the kitchen at the fort; however, she refrained from making any specific petitions. Instead she looked at him steadily, waiting for his judgment. She had done her part, and in a way she felt relief that this was now off her chest. It only remained to see whether the commanders would still find any use for her here.

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Macardil

At Pele's hesitation, he wondered what this was about. She was creating suspense as she was looking for words, and Macardil had to bite his tongue not to speak before she found them. Part of him wanted to comfort her, but doing such a thing before he even knew what was on her mind would be entirely premature. So he waited.

He listened intently when she continued, and he frowned - albeit with surprise more than disapproval. He supposed there hadn't been much of a chance since the meeting at HQ for her to tell him? No - that wasn't true. His logical side told him she could have approached him right after the briefing at HQ, at the stables, on the ship from Harlond to Pelargir, even on the road, or yesterday during their free afternoon and evening. If he were to focus on that, he could definitely find her at fault. Commander Amathen would, most likely, do just that. From the standpoint of reason, Pele should have told them from the start.

But there was a reason Amathen had chosen him as his second. Macardil's mind made him see the side of reason, yes - but his nature and personal experiences also made him adept at imagining himself in someone else's position. He had a good sense of empathy, and he could imagine Pele's possible fears. The fear that they might exclude her from a mission she really didn't want to miss out on. Perhaps the fear of possibly being excluded from joining the Rangers altogether, if she was not in shape at their conception. He frowned thoughtfully as he slowed to a halt and his blue eyes sized her up, also examining her facial expression.

"You were right in coming to me with this, Pele," he finally said. He saw no point in berating her for waiting as long as she had. She had come forward before the situation had gotten dangerous - even though she'd waited until what was probably the last possible moment. "Do I understand you correctly when I say that you still have your technique, but that in your own professional opinion, you are currently lacking in strength?" He waited a moment before continuing. "Do you have any specific issues through injury? An arm, a leg,...? Or is it your overall strength?" If it was the latter, then her injury must have been of the kind that had completely incapacited her for long enough to lose muscle. Or... she had let herself go. But her eyes told him that was unlikely. He sensed there was too much truth in her words as well, but got the feeling she wasn't telling him everything.

[Turin Ringhûn]

Turin Ringhûn

Turin grinned when Arnyn came and joined them at the table. “Welcome Capt, no Comma, no. Wow. Old habits are hard to break. Morning Arnyn. Hope you slept well. Apparently I woke up this guy earlier with my workout.”

After a few more minutes, another person joined the table. “Abrazimir, of House Dimaethor, from Belfalas.” The person said. He then asked if Turin had been at the siege at Pelennor.

Turin shook his head As he introduced himself. “Turin Ringhûn, former Captain of the Hyandaner. As you your question, no. I wasn’t there at the siege. But I’ve visited it before. My wife ... and her family is from the city”. Mentioning Nessa, his wife, sent a twinge of guilt through him. “But I took part in other events, and some special* things during the war. I did most of my time down south by Umbar. Had a couple missions toward Rhûn. I did help in the enemy cleanup around Mordor after Sauron was defeated. But I’ve been away from it all for a few years, so I’ll likely be out of the loop with things around here in Gondor.”

(Ooc: special things refers to time in Rangers during the 4th Age plaza being retconned as missions in the 3rd age)

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

The conversation with Arnyn and Morwen the day before had definitely helped to set some things right for her, and she had thought a lot since then, so Pele faced the Lieutenant steadfastly, without looking away. If anything, he deserved honesty, and any possible consequences of the mentioned honesty could not be worse than the torture she had gone through, could they?

"That is quite correct, sir," she agreed with Macardil's restatement of her own words. When he probed Pele further on details concerning her injury, she took a deep breath, thinking on how best to explain it. If she had to list everything, she might just as well write up a small medical book... But at least a summary had to be provided about the nature of the damage, and downplaying it would be just as good as lying.

"I had sustained a collection of injuries serious enough to keep me away for a long time, while recovering," Pele explained, and still wondered to herself how she had survived it in the first place. "A couple of weeks ago I still had issues with my right shoulder. None of those injuries have any effect on me that would restrict movement or cause pain currently, and just to be sure I sought additional evaluation from healers at the Houses of Healing."

As Pele spoke, a shadow of grief lingered in her eyes at the memories of what had caused her these problems, but she kept her voice steady, as she moved on. "I did intend to recover completely in the fullest meaning of the word before seeking to resume my duties, but the summons came somewhat sooner than that, and... I did not wish to be too late in responding."

She knew that she could very well get back to what she would call a reasonable level of strength in a month or so, if she observed a proper regimen, but it was easier said than done. There were sleep problems and the whole emotional, mental side of things to consider; and if she did not manage to get these under control, the recovery might take much longer.

[Arnyn]

Arnyn

She gave Turin a sympathetic and amused look as he stuttered through her previous ranks. She slapped a hand down on his shoulder. "Old habits indeed. I slept like a log." She raised an eyebrow as she smiled at the other person at the table (Hirluin). "You woke him up with your workout?" she laughed at Turin. "Perhaps tomorrow you could find another spot rathen than the room," she suggested, trying to be helpful.

When Abrazimir joined them, Arnyn greeted him with a nod and a quick hello. Enjoying her breakfast as well, she nodded at the man's comment on the eggs. "Hmm," she agreed. "Looks like our Lieutenant might be able to write down more than 'elementary' next to his cooking skills."

Lieutenant Macardil

That she'd been cleared by the Houses of Healing was encouraging, at least. The Lieutenant tried to gauge Pele's resolve. She seemed determined to accept whatever judgment he would pass on her, and Macardil recognized the glint in her eyes: she wanted to be useful, to contribute...

He took a moment to think and consider every angle. Then he gave Pele a slow nod as he made his decision. "You're one of the most skilled healers we have, and you still know how to fight. That makes you more suitable to come with us than a regular healer would be, and that has been done in the past. You will still join with us as planned. But... I will relay to the Commander that you need to perform a supportive role rather than an active combat role for the duration of this campaign, at least." His eyes pierced hers. "You will likely still need to fight, Pele. If we encounter a large band, which it seems like we will, we'll need every body we have. But you could be kept further back, surrounded by others, rather than in vulnerable positions where you are more likely to get separated from your peers."

[Isolde Alarion]

Ranger Mourgan

He noted the somewhat surprised or confused look on Unalmis face when he introduced himself but he simply filed it away. Shaking his hand he let it go and hearing their fathers may have served together his brown brows rose in interest. He knew his father? This was something he would have to ask about but now wasn't the time. Knowing he had to report he simply nodded his head and watched Unalmis leave.

Although many thoughts ran through his mind he was brought back to the present as others were preparing to bed down. Figuring he should get some sleep while he could he found his way to his bunk and after stripping himself of all his gear he settled in...asleep before his head hit the pillow per say.

Well before first light....

The sound of moving bodies woke him. It wasn't light yet but he could tell from the others it was time to be up. He sat on the bed a few moments as he rubbed his eyes then ran a hand through his brown hair. He stood and found the nearest pitcher of water then proceeded to splash his face. The cold water instantly chased what was left of sleep from his mind and he quickly finished with a quick washing. He emptied the bowl and returned to his bunk, brushing wet hair out of his face and back where it belonged.
He quickly donned his gear and strapped on his sword and knife and made ready for the day. Slinging his pack to his shoulder he headed to the mess hall where the aroma of breakfast wafted to greet him well before he entered.

Mess Hall

He entered just as he caught Pele leaving with the Lieutenant. Inwardly he smiled at seeing her but seeing her face he could tell their conversation was private and personal. Although he'd had his own problems he'd heard somewhat of her trials but he'd been so self absorbed he couldn't recall exact details. He would have to speak to her later.
He turned back to breakfast. It didn't take long to get a plate and fill it. Eggs, a slice of bread and a generous portion of meat piled onto his plate and he turned after recieving a mug of water to wash it all down. He looked around at those seated. He recognized Turin and Arnyn but there was a new face. "Abrazimir, of House Dimaethor, from Belfalas.” he caught the last of his introduction to Turin and neared as Turin answered him. He set his plate on the other side of Abrazimir but looked at Arnyn and glanced at Turin.

"Morning." He offered in greeting as he took a seat. Hearing Arnyn comment on the Lieutenants eggs he smiled. "Makes me want to try them even more." He commented to Arnyn. Not wanting to introduce himself with a mouthful of eggs he continued. " Mourgan Alarion sir..uhh.." he grimaced slightly, unsure how to proceed for a moment.
"Sorry..kind of confusing. I know who you are..obviously, but I don't think we've met one on one before." He spoke while getting a fork full of egg.

[Nen]

Hirluin
At Breakfast Getting to Know the Team

Hirluin considered Turin's words as he dipped his bread into a bowl of broth and took a large bite. He had heard of Turin, like he had heard of many. Names get spoken of when great deeds are done. Hirluin himself had been in command of a small party often sent out to scout and reconnaissance. During the final Battle of Pelennor he and his men and women had been at the outskirts of the heart of the battle, picking at the strays, as he liked to call it.

"I don't believe we've met? Arnyn Dealedwen, pleased to make your acquaintance."

Deep blue eyes shifted to the young woman who joined their table. Hirluin felt a slight jolt of surprise. Young this woman might be, but he would not have known that Arnyn Dealedwen had once been Commander of the whole army of Gondor. He gave her a nod of respect, "Hirluin, son of Anor. It is my pleasure to make yours." When his little sister had once overheard him introducing himself to someone, she asked him why he didn't mention the noble House of Calimir? How did one explain to a little girl no more than four feet something that it was complicated?

Conversation did not particularly seem to flow, but there was a tension of excitement in the air, and it was clear everyone was intent on getting ready. Two years was a long while for a solider to be inactive. Anticipation would be riding high, and so would concerns. Personally, Hirluin was feeling... he wasn't sure what he was feeling. It felt like nothing at the moment. But it was usually the way he felt when he had no idea what to expect. Soon the mess was beginning to fill up with the later risers, and Hirluin was nearly done with breakfast when yet another joined them. As he was polishing up the last bit of soup, he wondered how he had missed the eggs. He glanced surreptiously at everyone else's plate and then came to decision. "Excuse me! But I need to get me some of those good eggs," he said looking interested at Abrazimir's verdict of the eggs he had tentatively put into his mouth.

Having replenished his plate he was back and settled down to the conversation. He listened with interest as he learnt how Turin had mostly been on missions at Umbar. Hirluin could tell Turin was much older than he was. And he looked like a man who had seen and been through too much. He glanced at Abrazimir. His was not just a familiar face, but they had had a few moments together in the same squad. Memories were hazy, but there had been that brief time when they had fought back to back with not time for introductions. His glance took in Arnyn as well when he asked, "Which squad are the two of you in? The Lieutenant did rattle off some names to me last night, of which I can remember only one. The other, I now know is Turin."

[Burnt Toast]

Now that the crowd had started to clear off, Zev thought there might be a chance to change the conversation to something a little more serious. Well, at least he assumed it would be serious(ish) by Morwen's earlier reactions. But he didn't even need to create the shift in conversation, for Kamion had already picked up on the fact that there was another reason he was here, besides antics. A rare thing for him, probably. At least, before this last year... He pushed the thought away, and his grey-green eyes cleared once more.

"Well," he began, shifting so that he was leaning next to the tall Ranger, and could keep his voice low, though it was likely the tall Ranger would have to lean down or strain to hear him now, so great was their height difference-- "As much as I wouldn't mind some flirting lessons, because does that ever sound fun," It really did, but he had other things to focus on at the moment, "I was wondering about your history with-"

But just then, he spied Morwen walking across the grounds, and cut himself off. If she saw him with Kamion, looking all whispery and suspicious, she was going to be, well, suspicious. I, er, I'll-" he sputtered, before finally spitting out, "I'll try to catch you at breakfast tomorrow!" And then he dashed off, hoping that the golden-eyed Ranger hadn't seen him speaking with Kamion.

[Lantaelen]

Abrazimir Dimaethor
Mess Hall

Abrazimir nodded understandingly as Turin Ringhûn explained his former, quite distinguished military career in the past Age. His eyebrows did rise curiosity when the former Captain explained some activities near Umbar. They might have some fellow adversaries in common then. He made a mental note to inquire more about it, though such discussions in depth didn’t seem like good breakfast table topics. He smiled at the final remarks of being away from it all. ”I know how you feel, Sir.” Abrazimir answered, using the title out of respect for the man’s career and deeds. ”But what use is a hard won peace if we can’t stop and enjoy it a short while? Though I daresay much has really changed in what will be expected of us. Evil doers all the same, I reckon.”

He grinned as well at Arnyn’s comments about their Lieutenant, even as another Ranger, Mourgan Alarion, joined them. There was something rustic and admirable about a commanding officer who cooked for his soldiers. That, or the Lieutenant was very pragmatically aware that an army marched on its stomach and he was merely assuring the capabilities of his warriors. Either way, Abrazimir could appreciate the diligence. Maybe the Lieutenant will bring his cooking kit on the march.

”Wise move.” He praised the decision of Hirluin to fetch more eggs. Again, Abrazimir pondered the coming hardships of the wild. Who knows if they might get access to such again on the march. Best stock up. But as for the man himself, there was a familiarity to it, but soon his memory did put two and two together. Yes, he would look different without the helmet and orcish blood splatter. Among many others, I owe this man my life once or twice over from the Pelennor.

He did not quite know the newcomer, though he recognized the family name. Alarion. Related to the good Sergeant over yonder? He thought, turning to glance towards the Lieutenant and Pele not far off. He prayed she was feeling better. Hirluin then inquired as to their squad allocations. ”Second squad. I believe that puts me as your comrade, Sir.” Abrazimir nodded in indication to Mourgan Alarion, among many others, whom he felt a mixture of thrill and dread to meet.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

It felt to Pele that the Lieutenant's gaze saw right through her while he studied her and obviously thought of the new situation she had presented him with, and yet she did not even as much as stir to avoid the scrutiny he put her through. It was best to be as honest as possible so he could make the best decisions; after all she had already had let her fears keep her from revealing her condition up to this late point in their mission, and her purpose was to aid as much as she could and not hinder it.

When Macardil had seemingly decided her fate, Pele quite automatically straightened up just a bit more, standing at attention. The Lieutenant's words brought her a sense of relief that she would not be sent away as a useless piece of luggage and could remain with her team. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn't even mind a duty of digging latrines, washing laundry or cooking for the remainder of their campaign, as long as she was permitted to continue.

"Thank you for giving me a chance," she said in response, unable to restrain a smile and a sparkle in her eyes. "My healing skills have not been affected in any adverse way at least," she noted. If anything, she had spent the time perfecting it, as she tried to patch herself up, only asking for help from others when she was out of options. Besides, it went without saying that she would do anything that was required of her in terms of supportive role.

As far as the fighting went, Pele thought that she would be rather disappointed if she would not be allowed to do any at all; it would be difficult watching her comrades fight without being able to assist them in any way. "I am ready for fighting, as much as my strength allows, Lieutenant, and will continue working on my own recovery and strengthening to the best of my abilities," she assured him. More likely it was easier said than done, as the rigorous demands of being out on campaign would not be the best environment for recovery, but it would just have to do.

[Arnyn]

She had to laugh at Mourgan saying 'sir'. "You and I are the same rank - as far as I'm concerned there's no need for all that. You can let go of formality and confusion." When he said he obviously knew who she was, Arnyn let out a little sigh. While it was flattering to be recognized and remembered, she hoped it wouldn't cause anyone to keep their distance from her. She gave him a genuine smile. "No, I don't believe we've ever spoken before. Well met, Mourgan. Alarion, you say... You're related to Pele, then?"

Giving Hirluin a nod and a smile when he returned her words of greeting, she later grinned when he went to find some eggs. It looked like the Lieutenant had cooked up quite a hit. He must know a way to a warrior's heart was often through the stomach. Arnyn finished her breakfast and drank from her glass of water.

When Hirluin returned and asked which squads Abrazimir and she were in, she tilted her head, causing her long blonde braid to slip forward. "If you're in the same squad as Turin, you and I won't be squadmates for now. I was grouped with Durien, Kamion, Zev and I believe Thûllir," she said, remembering the names. Durien was very easy to recall, since she'd known the woman from her previous stint with the armed forces of Gondor, but the others were unknown names to her, probably involved with different military branches or just after her time. "I've heard there were some new arrivals, so someone else might have been assigned to our group who I have yet to meet." Her brown eyes gleamed: she was looking forward to making new acquaintances and forming new bonds of friendship. She had built some of the best friendships in her life with the Rangers in Minas Tirith, and she hoped she'd be able to add more such experiences now. Arnyn raised her glass at Hirluin. "But not being in the same squad doesn't mean we can't get to know one another." She gave the four men (Turin, Hirluin, Abrazimir, Mourgan) at the table a wry grin. "Or at least that's the hope. You all have at least one squadmate present at the table! I'm the only member of the first squad at the moment."

Lieutenant Macardil

That smile and glint in Pele's blue eyes was a reward in and by itself. The Lieutenant nodded at her. "Good. I would expect no less, Ranger Alarion." He was about to say more, but a flummoxed steward interrupted them as he came running down the hallway with a panicked expression on his face.

"Lieutenant, Sir!" he exclaimed, racing toward them. "A farmer just came riding up to the fort - she says she saw a large band of orcs heading for a village a few hours ride to the southeast of here!"

Macardil tensed. "Where is she now? I wish to speak with her at once." He turned to Pele momentarily. "Tell everyone in the mess they need to gear up if they haven't already and gather at the stables." He would have his hands full hearing the account first-hand, and then informing Commander Amathen. He still had to retrieve his own gear he'd left in the kitchens as well.
If orcs were spotted in large numbers, they needed to act at once, whether they were the band responsible for all the slaughter or not.

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion

It seemed to Pele that being open and sharing bits and pieces of her past and present condition brought a ray of light into what had been a solid dark room in her soul, along with a fair measure of freedom and relief. Had she known this, perhaps she had not been hiding away for so long. But she was now here, and it felt very good to be among friends and have a purpose again.

At any rate, it looked like Lieutenant had something else to say, but their conversation was interrupted by swiftly approaching steward. Orcs. So they would have work on their hands. She hated these creatures with intense passion, as all they ever did was destroy and kill; it was a pity these had not disappeared along with the Dark Lord.

"Yes, sir!" Pele responded to the order given and made haste for the mess hall.

Stepping through the door, she caught her breath for a moment and then raised her voice above the din of conversations: "Attention, Rangers! Grab your gear and gather at the stables! We've got a job to do."

Having relayed the orders to her comrades, Pele quickly snatched up some extra water: that was something that could never really be too much. That done, she returned to her bed space; she had packed the night before, so all she had to do was buckle on the sword, strap the bow to her back and pick up her pack. She did these actions with practiced ease and made way to the stables to gather with the others and await further orders.

[Azdiur]

Azdiur, on the road to the Fort

The road hadn't been kind to Azdiur, but the mount he'd been issued was certainly better than the alternative. He'd need to get used to riding, especially since conditions would not often be this...routine. He felt a twinge of guilt at the load he was forcing the horse to bear; clearly he’d not been bred as a packhorse, but the creature dutifully rose to the occasion with nary a complaint. If he’d had more time, Azdiur would have loved to spend a few more weeks working through the backlog of gear maintenance that the garrison in Pelargir had built up. By the time this mission was over, he suspected there’d be another pile waiting for some attention.

He’d been riding for a few hours already, the well-kept roads and the disciplined horse that bore him sufficient that his could make good time under just the moon’s light. He had a torch ready, but was pleased not to need it; riding was much more pleasant when he wasn’t worried about keeping a flaming stick held steady. The rhythmic sound of the horse’s clopping mixed with the muted jangling from the satchel slung behind him. Not peaceful, certainly, but reassuring in its cadence.

The sun had yet to peak over the horizon when he spotted the fort in the distance, but he knew it was not long before it would join him. He’d hoped to arrive a bit sooner and have an hour or two to rest before dawn, but such was not his lot this time. As he drew near enough to make out the fort, he was surprised to see much more activity than he’d expect for this time of morning. Clearly not just the actions of some early risers, it appeared the whole contingent was quickly making ready to march.

Azdiur urged his mount forward, covering the final yards to the gate and drew up alongside one of the sentries and saluted, then dismounted with a slight wince. "Ranger Azdiur, bringing supplies and equipment from Pelargir." The guard nodded and accepted the offered insignia, confirming its authenticity and glancing over the bundle still tied to the saddle. Satisfied that all was in order, he motioned into the heart of the fort. "Lieutenant Macardil is rallying the troops now, to set out immediately. Check in with him first, we'll get your delivery to the stewards and prepare a fresh mount for you." Azdiur thanked him and handed the reins to the porter who'd appeared nearby, without needing any additional summons. After an exchange of salutes, the Ranger headed in the direction indicated.

It was not difficult to find Macardil, standing in the eye of a storm of rapid activity, issuing orders and ensuring that all was in motion. "Lieutenant!" Azdiur called as he approached and saluted once more. "Ranger Azdiur, reporting from Pelargir. Just brought in a small bundle of swords and armor that had been sent back for repairs. I hope I'm not too late; command said haste was needed but I had no idea we'd be marching so soon!"

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Macardil

He'd just finished speaking to the farmer, hearing her full account, when another newcomer found him. For a second, Macardil thought he didn't have time for this. The farmer's intelligence had made it clear that if they didn't leave soon - now, even - they might be too late to intercept the orcs, and the village would probably be slaughtered like the others before them. And he still needed to report to Commander Amathen and retrieve his own gear.

The Lieutenant took a slow, deep breath to tamp down the mental haste he was feeling, and nodded at Azdiur's salute. Yes, he had known to expect the man's arrival along with the supplies he spoke of, but he'd tucked it away to the back of his mind. He was glad Azdiur had arrived in time, before they moved out. "Welcome, Ranger Azdiur. You have but a moment to stretch your legs, hasten to the mess and grab some food and water if need be -" he would highly recommend water, at least. "We've just received report of our quarry and need to make haste. I suggest you find Ranger Hirluin or Ranger Karis," he said, listing some names from the top of his head. "You'll be joining their squad."

With a nod, the Lieutenant left Azdiur to his own preparations. He ordered one of the stewards to see to it that the supplies the Ranger had brought would find their rightful place within the fort. His next stop was the mess to pick up his gear, and then he headed for Commander Amathen's quarters. Knowing the veteran, he would be joining them on their hunt.

She'd found Thullir later the previous evening, and the couple had spent some time between the two of them, talking and being at peace. They knew the real work would start the next day, and they both had the experience to know there was no telling how much time there would be for simple talk and laughs then. They'd been wise enough to go to sleep early, to make up for their limited sleep the night before, and they both woke up well rested.

Kaylin hadn't done any stretching the day before, and she did that before breakfast, which was why she split up from her husband again and why she was running a bit later than some of the others. Cleaning up and sretching out her muscles felt great, however, and she appeared in the mess just before Pele stuck her head in and told them all to get ready to move out. Kaylin grinned and stuffed her mouth with food, nodding and filling her water bottle as she chewed and swallowed. When that was done, she shoveled some of the last eggs into her mouth, and she grabbed some bread and an apple or two for the road (who knew, right?). She stopped at Turin's table on her way out of the mess, and gave him a bright smile. "Let's go find the rest of our squad?"

@Azdiur @Karis Ziranphel @Turin Ringhûn @Nen @Oro

[Azdiur]

Ranger Azdiur

Azdiur nodded to acknowledge the Lieutenant's instructions. "At once, sir. I broke my fast on the road, but I shall be certain to prepare well for the journey ahead." He ended the exchange with a crisp salute, the motion still feeling a bit foreign to him. After all these years leaning over a forge alone, who'd have thought he'd end up standing tall at attention in the midst of a crowd?

After he was dismissed, Azdiur glanced around to get his bearings. The fort was well laid out, and the currents of activity made it fairly easy to determine which structure was which. He'd been given names, Hirluin and Karis, but scant other detail to find his new squadmates, and the Lieutenant had already headed off, clearly intent on getting the group prepared to march. Of all the places in the fort, the mess hall was most likely to have someone not completely indisposed, and he certainly could use a drink of water to prepare for the road ahead. Striding across the grounds to the door he was fairly certain led that way, he did his best to stretch the soreness from his legs as he walked. He didn't relish the thought of getting back atop a horse so soon, but it was what he'd signed up for...

Entering the room, he was unsurprised to find it a hub of activity as many tried quickly to finish their meals in an orderly hurry. Approaching the first Ranger he found, he quickly saluted and introduced himself. "Ranger Azdiur, reporting for duty. Would you know if Rangers Hirluin or Karis are here by chance?"

(OOC: Purposely leaving this open for anyone who's currently in the Mess Hall to pick up)

[Karis Ziranphel]

Karis Ziranphel

Ziran had been up just before dawn to stretch and do her morning ablutions before packing up her equipment again so that it was ready before she went down to breakfast. She was never hungry right away, so preferred getting other tasks out of the way first, but knew she would need food to give her energy for whatever the day might bring.

The day before had been one of rest for Ziran once they reached the fort. She had done some limbering up with her bow, sending several rounds of arrows at the practice butts until she got the feel for how it reacted in the different environment of the south. Then she had cleaned her gear and gotten food in the mess before finding a place to sleep.

The mess was full of Rangers already by the time Ziran arrived, and she silently nodded to those gathered as she made her way to the buffet full of food. “Have some eggs before they are gone. The Lieutenant made them.” Liza’s hushed words brought the slight tilt of a smile to Ziran’s face. “Is that right? I’ll have to try them then. Thank you for the food Liza.” It may have partially scandalized the cook, but Ziran could see that it also pleased her to no end that the officer had helped out, and it was a gesture that she approved of as well. Serving the troops was a fine tradition, but not many officers were cut from that cloth. She filled her plate with eggs, a bowl of oat porridge, bread, cheese, and fruit, and then found a quiet corner to eat. She enjoyed company, but preferred observing and eating to talking in the mornings.

Ziran had taken her dishes to the washing station when Pele ran in to shout the news that they were being called out. Turning to Warren and Liza, she saw Warren gesturing at a table full of neatly wrapped packages before she could apologize for not cleaning up. “Supplies for the road. Lunch. Maybe dinner if you stretch it. Don’t worry about dishes. You have your job and we have ours.” Placing her open palmed hand over her heart in wordless thanks, Ziran took one of the meal packets and filled her canteen with water before turning to the door.
As she approached the door, a man with the muscled build of a smith came through, turned to her and saluted. Surprise lit her eyes and then amusement at his words, and she returned his salute with a smile. “Good morning Ranger Azdiur. You have found one of those you seek, although salutes are not needed among Rangers here. I am Karis Ziranphel, and I believe Hirluin is over at one of the tables.” She tilted her head as she paused briefly to assess him. “If you are joining us, I suggest you grab some food for the journey. I am on my way to the barracks hall to grab my gear, and can wait a moment if you wish to walk with me to drop off that which you don’t want to take on our mission. Otherwise I will meet you in the stable yard. We travel light and ready for a fight.”
The dark-haired archer waited for his response with the calm gaze that was common to her. She knew that there was urgency to their task, but preparation was critical to make sure everyone was ready if and when they encountered the enemy.

---------
A short while later, Ziran had collected her gear and gone to get her horse ready. It was wonderful to have stable hands that had made sure the mounts were fed and watered. It took but a few moments for her to check her horse over, and then get it ready to go with the help of more experienced fingers. Leading her horse out to the stable yard with a steady hand, Ziran waited to mount, instead lining up and waiting with the reins in one hand and the other holding her longbow propped on the toe of her boot in casual attention.

[Azdiur]

Ranger Azdiur

Fortune smiled upon Azdiur's inquiry and rewarded him with an introduction to a new squadmate, Karis Ziranphel. He could not help but smile a bit at the luck; it certainly was better than scrambling around and falling further behind. "Excellent, and well met. Apologies if I seem overzealous with the formalities; militia life seems sufficient preparation at the time, but this all remains a bit of a trial by fire. I'm much more accustomed to the weight of a good hammer than of standing at attention. But yes, of course, let us make haste. I'd not turn down a guide to the stables, if you can spare a moment to refill my canteen, I've a fair few mile behind me already." Azdiur approached the steward nearby and raised his canteen, gladly accepting a fill. He smiled and offered a quick word of thanks as another pressed a small bundle of rations into his arms. Returning to his fellow Ranger a moment later, he thanked her for waiting. "Ready now, and thanks for the escort!"

--------
At the stables:

Azdiur was pleased to find a new steed had indeed been prepared for him. He'd have preferred a few days for the other to rest so he could continue building a rapport with the creature, but with time being of the essence the change would give...at least one of them a chance to rest. They'd removed the heavy sack he'd brought and replaced it with something much better suited for the road ahead, and his quarterstaff was leaning against the stall partition. Grabbing it, he rolled it between his fingers for a moment, then slapped it down into his other palm, feeling the reassuring weight. The steel caps on either end gave it a sense of heft that took some getting used to, but now he missed it whenever he held a different weapon. He'd originally added them for drills when he began training for the War; the extra weight that far from the center of mass required more finesse and forced him to keep his form tight. It was easy for a man of his stature to rely on his brawn alone, but he'd seen enough on the field of battle to know that the heaviest of blows meant little when they left you exposed.

Replace the weapon in its resting place, he quickly set to work making sure his gear was all where he expected it. The porter had done a superb job stowing it all, as expected, and he really had little left to do. Leading his horse out to the grounds, he wandered near to Zarin and looked for any other members of the squad.

[Moriel]

After that extremely peculiar encounter with Zev, Kamion had returned to the stables to settle Faran for the night, for the horse was a grumpy riser and always in a better mood on waking when he’d been “tucked in” for the night. The Dúnadan himself had no such troubles, and rose easily just before first light. It was his custom to wash his face and upper body in the morning when possible, especially when about to go out on campaign- who knew when any of them would get the chance to be clean and comfortable again? Kamion had acquired a basin on cold water and a cloth, and found a secluded are of the fort to perform his ablutions, facing east, so he could watch the sunrise. Stripped to the waist, he first splashed his face with a cupped handful of water, then dunked the cloth and wrung it out. He passed it briefly over his face, clearing the sleep from his eyes and the linger haze of slumber from his mind. Replenishing the cloth in the basin now and then, Kamion scrubbed methodically: face, neck, shoulders, chest, abdomen, back. His skin tingled with the cold and with the sensation, every nerve and follicle alive and aware. As the sun’s first rays crept over the horizon, their rays too reached his skin, warming it the slightest amount. Kamion inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, savoring the quiet of the morning. Peace was a rare treasure, and they were about the business of its preservation. With a flick of the wrist, Kamion emptied the basin. He tossed the cloth into the empty vessel and lifted his shirt from the nail it had hung upon, pulling it back over his head, and shaking the damp hair out of his eyes. Time to get to work.

Kamion arrived at the mess hall just the steward went flying inside before him, and hurried in the man’s wake. He heard the news about the farmer and the band of orcs firsthand- so, there was to be no easy start to the campaign. Just as well that they get on the trail of the orcs quickly. As Pele repeated Macardil’s orders, Kamion hurried over to the nearest table of provisions and seized two thick slices of bread. He shoved a few slices of meat and some fried eggs between them for an improvised breakfast to eat as he made ready. Already bearing the longsword on his back and with the rest of his gear stowed in Faran’s stall, all that remained was to make his way to the stables and collect all and sundry. Kamion strode from the mess mere moments after entering it, long legs carrying him quickly back to the stable as he rapidly gnawed bites off the sandwich. By the time he reached Faran’s stall he was swallowing the last morsels, as was the ill-tempered gelding of his own morning feed. “Vacation’s over, laddo!” Kamion called to the horse as he unlatched the stall door, and Faran flicked one heavy ear at him, clearly unamused.

But, the big rangy animal did not put up much of a fight as Kamion tacked him up and checked all saddlebags to make sure they were secure. From the largest of these he pulled his coat of mail. He shook it out with a rustling of rings and the faint smell of oil, sounds and smells of comfort. This mail had seen the Dúnadan through many perils; a light, bright thing it was , of beautiful craftsmanship and endurance. When in the past he had roved out with the rangers, he had not worn it, but it seemed likely they would be going into battle before long, and the army soldier in him didn’t feel quite right without it. Shrugging, Kamion dropped it over his head, and it fell to hallway between hip and knee, split several inches up the front for easier wear on horseback. Pulling a wide leather belt from the same saddlebag, he belted the mail just above his hip, and pulled at the bottom to adjust it. Taking hold of Faran’s reins, Kamion led the gelding (who was much more interested in proceedings now that his master was wearing the coat of mail) out into the yard to join the others.

[Turin Ringhûn]

Turin Ringhûn
Mess Hall

Turin and the others at the table seemed to be finishing up conversations when Pele opened the door and called out “Attention, Rangers! Grab your gear and gather at the stables! We've got a job to do.” Kaylinn stopped by on her way out of the hall and said, “Let’s go find the rest of our squad.” Nodding, he stood and grabbed his empty dishes. He took them to the kitchen. He then heard Warren saying to not worry about the dishes as they’d take care of them. “Oh well. I at least helped a tiny bit.” He thought.

While returning to his seat, he grabbed one of the bundles that had been prepared for later meals, and then grabbed his pack. He was thankful for his fore-thinking of just bringing it with him, though an even better forethought would have been to take it to the stables before eating, but oh well. He followed the rest of the Rangers out when he overheard a name of someone talking to Karis. That name sounded very familiar. Because he and Karis were in the same squad, maybe this person (Azdiur) was too.

Stables
It was only a couple minutes later when he was in the stall with Canya. He was brushing the horse down getting him ready to load all the riding gear and head off to wherever the Lieutenant pointed them. The noise level rose as more and more people arrived at the stables getting their horses ready to go. He loaded up his horse and walked the gelding out of the stables and off to the side. In all of the chaos, his mind raced through several possibilities of what all was going on. He had a feeling there was word of an attack happening, thus the early call to action.

With all the people going around, he had a feeling it could be difficult to find squad mates, after all, it seemed most everyone was unfamiliar with everyone else. He knew Karis, to a degree, and he’d been introduced to Kaylinn, and some of the others in the squad, but that could have changed with the late arrivals. So, he did the first thing that came to mind to help gather those in his squad. “Squad three over here. Squad three over here.”

[Arnyn]

Courtyard

Cocoa was all set to go, and so was Kaylin. With her shortsword at her hip, her shield on her back, and several types of knives - both hidden and in plain sight - she felt comfortable with her weapons. It took some getting used to only wearing leather and mail and no plate on her torso and upper arms, but at least she still wore her soldier's plate bracers and greaves, and she was glad for them. She felt lighter, and wondered what the effect would be in a fight. She was used to training in heavy gear, too, so this would be... a change. After this mission, she could always reevaluate.

Despite having spoken to Turin earlier, she found Ziran first, who was waiting with the reins to her horse in one hand and her longbow in another. "Hey, cousin," Kaylin grinned, quite enjoying that Ziran couldn't pull rank on her now even if she wanted to. It gave Kaylin some more freedoms when interacting with the woman when on duty, and if there was one thing Kaylin enjoyed then it was freedom. Kaylin gave her an innocent smile. "I heard you got reassigned to the third squad. Did you mess up in the second one already?" she teased. She didn't think for so long as even a second that Ziranhad done anything wrong - the woman probably couldn't even if she tried - but it was fun to make use of her newfound liberties right away. Zirancould take some teasing, Kaylin knew, and they knew each other well enough by know for Ziran to know that this was nothing other than a bit of banter.

She looked over at a brown-haired Ranger standing nearby (Azdiur). "I don't remember you from our travels. You've recently arrived? I'm Kaylin, good to have you with us!"

When she heard Turin calling out for squad three, she waved him over. "There's three of us right here, Turin!"

Courtyard

They'd all left the table more or less together, but had split up because some needed to retrieve gear or packs and others went straight to the stables. Arnyn was met by a cheery Narsulë, and she patted the chestnut on the side of his neck with a smile. They'd been through a lot together, and she was glad to have him with her. Even though there were a good number of familiar people here, the only person she knew in her squad was Durien.

Leading Narsule out into the courtyard, she spotted Kamion and, not that far off, Thûllir. It would be good for her to get to know them a bit better, and she approached them with determined strides. "Morning, gentlemen." She gave them a smile and compared Kamion's mail to Thûllir's leathers. "Looks like one of you has the past of a soldier and the other that of a Ranger," she noted. Her own armor was mostly leather, and although she did have mail sleeves sewn onto it, they were blackened as to not catch the light or any unwanted attention. How such things told their stories...

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr

Thûllir had very much enjoyed being able to spend a quiet evening relaxing and talking with Kaylin after the busy transitions of the last few days. His return from Ithilien had been the day before they were due to report, and the intervening days had been full of travel with people and faces mostly new to him, so that he was always on alert. Taking time to decompress and talk quietly had been much needed, and Thûllir had found more restful sleep that night than he had since their journey began. It was good to start a mission with a clear head and heart.

He had woken early as well at the first sound of movement in the hall. After coming alert and realizing he was in a friendly place, he had allowed himself to wake up more slowly before getting up to dress quietly and straighten his gear. He was down to the mess early for a mug of strong tea, although not quite able to beat the Lieutenant and a small handful of others to the kitchen. Not feeling particularly sociable in the mornings, he had some food along with his second cup of tea, but only listened to the conversations going on before slipping out the door again to walk around the courtyard. There he had seen the arrival of the messenger who reported to the Lieutenant, so although he did not hear the content of the message he knew action was likely called for, so he went first to pick up his weapons and gear and then to the mess again for supplies of food and water. He gathered that his guess was correct from the boil of activity.

Escaping again to the controlled chaos of the stables, Thûllir murmured quietly to his horse as he tightened straps and adjusted how the extra quiver sat beside his saddle. Once all elements had been adjusted to his satisfaction, including the grain ration in the saddlebag, he led Bregil out and found a quiet spot near the tall Dunedain Kamion to wait.

Only a few moments after he settled into his relaxed stance, Arnyn strode up with her chestnut. Thûllir nodded to her with a smile. “Good morning Arnyn.” He had carefully worked to remember names after the introductions a few days ago, and had been impressed by Arnyn’s demeanor over the last several days. He had heard of her years past, but never really met before. “For my part you would be correct. I don’t wear maille often, but I also rely on my bow more than my sword.” He tilted his head to indicate her blade. While he had improved his swordsmanship greatly in recent years, he still preferred staying out of range of needing to use his blade if at all possible.

Karis Ziranphel

The smile that appeared when Kaylin approached and greeted her lit Ziran’s normally sober features. She had always enjoyed working with Kaylin, and didn’t mind one bit that she teased her now. “Cousin.” She acknowledged Kaylin’s greeting, and good naturedly responded with a wink. “I think it is more likely the Lieutenant thinks you need supervision aye?” Her fake drawl of the word indicating that it was unlikely in the extreme, but then she shook her head and continued with more seriousness. “A bow or two beside you heavy fighters is what I would guess.”

When Turin appeared and started yelling, Ziran could only shake her head, and was glad Kaylin beat her to replying in a welcoming fashion. It was effective perhaps, but the archer could only agree with her swordsister on this one. Paying attention was always important.

[Turin Ringhûn]

Stables

Turin had pretty much just finished calling out for the third squad when Kaylin called out she and a couple others had already assembled. He couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed. He walked over to see Kaylin, Azdiur, Karis together. "Putting me to shame there Kaylin. I was all proud of my calling too. Oh well."

He turned to Karis, "Hello again Karis. I could have sworn ... oh yeah. The Lieutenant did make some changes. Welcome. I could really use that sharp shooting as cover. My archery has really fallen by the wayside. I did a bit of practicing this morning and I still suck at it. I could hit the target fine, but I was all over the place."

He then turned to Azdiur. "Hello. I'm Turin. I think I heard you say your name was Azdiur when I was leaving the mess hall. Back when I was getting started in the Gondor military, one of my first trainers had that name, or something similar. And he was a spearman too. Part of me wants to ask if that it was you, but the rest of me says to ask if it was some relation. Then again, I could be completely off base, in which case, I can shut up."

[Arnyn]

Kaylin

She let out a brief laugh at Ziran's rebuttal. "Very good," she grinned. "You know, I wouldn't necessarily blame the man for thinking such a thing..." Her grin faded a little when Ziran's own demeanor grew more serious. Kaylin nodded. "Aye. Never a bad thing."

When Turin joined them, Kaylin gave him an easy smile. "Well, you're an excellent caller. We all heard you, after all." She tried not to let her smile grow into a grin, but failed rather miserably. She shrugged at his comments about shooting. "If you still hit the target, you don't exactly suck, I'd say." Kaylin would say she wasn't too shabby with a bow, herself, but only because of her husband's tutelage and her desire to prove to him she could master the weapon. It had turned out to be an excellent incentive, and the skills she'd picked up with the bow had helped earn her the title Master at Arms with the now disbanded army. Yet she preferred not to carry it as part of her reular equipment; it just didn't carry her favor well enough. She preferred to be in close-quarters - all the time.

Her attention turned to Azdiur when Turin asked him about his military past. She liked that he was carrying a quarterstaff. The steel tips, she liked even more. That, combined with the man's build, gave her the impression he'd make an excellent addition to their squad.

Arnyn

Her expression was calm and friendly as she listened to Thullir, subtly sizing him up as he spoke and trying to tie his words to what she saw. "A good bow is crucial in most if not all military engagements," she followed up on the man's comments. "I think our squad has some good versatility to it. Durien and yourself are main bows but both carry blades, and we also have two secondary bows in the squad if needed. That allow mostly ranged, completely melee and various combinations in between. And from the look I got at the skills sheet, I'd venture it's pretty safe to say we'll be operating as the main scouts."

With a small shake of the head, she pulled herself out of the realm of speculation and tactics. That wasn't her job anymore - other people were making those calls. A soft smile found its way to her face as she decided to tie back to his earlier tilt of the head. "I consider this sword almost like an extension of my arm," she said, her brown eyes gaining a specific gleam as she spoke of it. "Nevertheless, my shortbow can be of good service when needed." She nodded her head in respect to his longbow. "Although I would imagine my efforts would not live up to your longbow standards."

[Burnt Toast]

Zev

Zev hadn't managed to find Kamion yet at breakfast, but he figured they would have plenty of time to chat in their squad together, especially since Morwen was in a separate group. He had spent his morning prepping for travel, since they had to be moving out soon, and so he arrived at breakfast a little late, and piled a plate full of whatever hadn't been snapped up yet.

He was just in the middle of shoving his mouth full of a huge hunk of bread when Pele announced abruptly that they should gather their gear and meet at the stables. He nearly choked when he called out, "Aye aye!", or rather, tried to. It probably came out like a garbled mess of 'mmmf', but he grabbed the other hunk of bread and cheese and took off to gather his gear.


Morwen

Morwen was not an early riser by choice, so she grumpily made her way to breakfast and didn't speak to much of anyone, focused mainly on getting food in her (she didn't have much of an appetite in the morning, either, but she knew they would need it, so she packed in as much as she could). Zev was an obnoxiously cheerful early riser for some reason- maybe it had something to do with ships or pirates or something. She grumbled to herself into a cup of coffee, hoping that it would wake her up a bit more.

She glanced around for Pele, but the woman was nowhere to be found at the moment-- the golden-eyed Ranger thought she had seen her old friend speaking to the Lieutenant earlier, but now neither of them were in sight. Maybe she was speaking to him about what she had shared earlier with herself and Arnyn. She swallowed a gulp of her beverage and winced- it was still a bit too hot. Well, that was not bound to be a fun conversation.

She let her mind wander for a bit, enjoying the quiet corner of the mess hall she had found; not having to keep up conversation with anyone, just a moment of peace to herself.

Unfortunately, her moment of peace did not last long, as Pele chose that moment (yes, chose. Surely the woman could have waited for her to finish her coffee) to come into the mess hall and announce that they all needed to meet at the stables. With a grunt, Morwen pushed herself up from the table and took off toward the stables.

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta and Ilisys Azrubêl
Both of 2nd Squad. Tri-Road Fort


The night passed as nights do, and the new day found the young man woke quite before time. Unwilling to depart the comfort of his warm bed until he might have to, Nal dragged one arm up and under his head, listening with some contentment to the sounds of gentle breathing, the occasional fitful turn, and the eventual rousing of those bodies all about the barracks. Shapes and silhouettes marked the slow but steady departure of folks, as they went to find the dawn, or the source of some tempting fragrance from the mess hall.

As excuses went, the Ranger found that the shirt he’d doused in water after last eve’s exertions, was not yet quite dried. The climate had done wonders, but he reasoned a lazy glance through what he had actually packed in his bag would allow it time to improve still more. There had been small time to allot to curiosity upon the road, for every time he had set his mind on making inventory, a call had gone up that they were moving on again. So now, in that small span of time before the day, he placed blind hands with intrigue amongst his pack, and strove to guess what each item in turn was before it’s reveal. It was good to be familiar with your options, after all, and just as fair a plan to be accustomed to locating them by shape rather than sight.


Whether Isys had slept in her bed or in the company of her horse was unclear, for the bed she’d been allotted was immaculately made come morning, save for the indent where she now sat, lost to thoughts. The prospect of another dawn without her customary swim in the sea raised it’s ugly head and, not quite resolved to seek out the nearby Poros in it’s stead, a bath sufficed to refresh her with it’s embrace of cool water. Taking up in full gear, and her spear to boot, the woman went to find the sun. Her warm cloak curled upon her bed like a cat, discarded for the sake of that same likely weather.

As the first few Rangers began to congregate in the Mess hall, Ilisys was already stood atop the outlooking wall, winding her long, wind-dried, ebony hair into a crown braid; the least effective of helmets but the far most convenient style to consider close quarter combat. It would without doubt resemble some haphazard bird’s nest come dusk, but the darkness of that hour as well as a pride in her day’s endeavours would almost certainly protect her from the slightest shame. The urgent approach of the farmer to the fort drew her back to the present, and she skipped down from the heights to overhear the calls to arms.


Nal had given up that his still damp shirt might dry further and, having satisfied all distractions he could think of, reluctantly had wet his face to match, and dressed. If naught else, the cold shirt served to awaken his skin, and the rest of him might even follow suit. For though it was not yet first light, the slow rousing of limbs and yawns had been replaced by sharp progressions up and down the corridor, and the grunted hefting of gear .. The Ranger could recognise the difference between rising and being raised, and this felt distinctly more like the latter. Glad that he had checked his pack already, for there would be no time now to tarry over such intrigues, he made for the door with all that he ought take to hand. A catch of wind robbed that door from his hand as he passed through it, and a shudder of a slam rocked the wall with a proclaiming echo. As alarms went, it would satisfy. Half sheepish, and half amused, the young man dared the door back open again, ready to brave the groans and complaints which might await him from within, and declared, “Something’s up,” without any of the authority, but perhaps too much enthusiasm for some of the still dozing veterans.


The smell of food from the Mess Hall drew him to expect an assembly be there, if not breakfast. His stomach though could not have taken a single morsel, so excited was he at the notion of finally doing what the songs said being a soldier was all about. He was yet young enough to believe that the realities he’d faced so far within the military were all still the calm before the storm he meant to dance in. But the food hall was emptied, save for those staff now piling away dishes, and pushing in the chairs which had been scraped out urgently from under tables. Ilisys was stood before a table laden with wrapped food parcels, one of which she held in both hands as she turned it over, appraisingly, and then ducked her head in a thanks before clutching it tight to her breast. Unalmis followed suit of approaching the provisions, and was duely invited to gather his need, and water. His flask was full, he’d learnt the hard way what happened to the dehydrated body and it wasn’t an experience he was dying to repeat. Still, a mug of water was as much as he could stomach and it barely touched the butterflies in his stomach.

Calls of “ .. over here ! led him out toward the stables where a small force was already assembling; few though he recognised yet, further than faces, and what he had personally conjured up in imaginative estimations. Though it seemed that Pele was a beacon all knew, and one other at least was headed toward. Horses as much as Rangers were stood to attention, and so he made toward the stables before making any introductions. Ilisys was once more, one step ahead of him; and drawing one elongated finger across a knifed-notch at one of the horse stalls as he looked for ‘Brown’. When she turned, and met his eye, the lady just smiled and drew her finger up to guard her lips. Counting it as just one more thing he did not comprehend of the woman, Nal shrugged and felt it not worth his sanity to even ask.

“Sorry, I’m supposed to join this group,” he volunteered the apology in advance, and outside, since both women gathered of their squad so far he’d met before.

“You know of one another,” Ilisys ascertained though, looking not toward the young man and the former Sergeant, but rather toward Pele, with a glance at Morwen, who was headed in their direction.

[Azdiur]

Ranger Azdiur

In the course of a few moments the grounds where Rangers were gathering had become quite heavily populated. Azdiur was honestly impressed with how quickly the force was able to mobilize, even this early in the morning. As the squad he was now a part of began to coalesce, he quickly found himself surrounded by new faces and introductions.

First was Kaylin, whose inquiry about his recent arrival was certainly fair. "Yes, I arrived only a few minutes ago; an assignment at the Pelargir Garrison kept me there until a few days ago. This will actually be my first deployment to the field, my talents are generally put to work behind the scenes, helping to keep everyone outfitted appropriately. Thank you kindly for the warm welcome, I look forward to having comrades to help me keep up the pace."

As they finished their introductions, Kaylin called over another member of the squad. Turin's question caught him off guard. "I....had a brother who served, years ago. Hadiur was quite proficient with the spear and with a longblade. I know little of how he served, we heard from him only occasionally until there was nothing left to hear. If it was under him you trained, perhaps it is fate that we stand alongside each other now?"

[Pele Alarion]

Pele Alarion
Courtyard

Although she had been one of the first in the stables, Pele had taken quite a lot of time in preparing the horse - or maybe she used tending to the horse as means of finding just a bit more time to prepare herself. In a way it was very good to be back and doing something actively again, and yet Pele felt that it was different; she had changed and lost much of who she was, and going through the process of recovery while on active duty was challenging. But on the other hand, it might prove much better than sitting around doing nothing.

Eventually she had done the horse preparation nearly to perfection and led Autumn out, joining the gathering of people who had made it faster. She glanced around in search of her squad, but finding no one else had yet arrived, she made sure to separate herself from the other squads to be easier found, and so she could oversee the comings and goings a bit more. It did not take long before she saw whole three of them approaching.

"Unalmis," turning towards the newcomers, Pele acknowledged the young man. "I did not know you had joined." She must have been so lost in her thoughts that she had not noticed him and the other Rangers who had joined even in Pelargir. "At any rate, we'll have to watch out for each other then, it seems." She was not sure though, how much he had outgrown his youthful habits and how much she could trust him to keep in line with orders given. But perhaps he had grown.

At Ilisys' statement, Pele followed her gaze towards Morwen. "We certainly do," she confirmed the accuracy of the remark. "For some time."

Running her hand through the mare's mane, she then thought out loud: "So, we are still missing three team members, unless there are some more that have joined recently." There were seven of them together, then. Thinking of their skill sets, Pele wondered how she could fit in, while not being able to perform her best, and yet do as much as she could.

[Arnyn]

When the Rangers had all assembled, Commander Amathen along with Lieutenant Macardil joined them in the courtyard.

The Commander gave Macardil a nod and mounted his horse without a word. The Lieutenant nodded slowly in return, and mounted his own bay before looking out at the three squads.

"One of the locals reported a band of orcs on the move. They seem to be targeting a village which is a few hours' ride away, to the southeast. The report estimates about thirty or forty opponents - we do not have an exact count. We ride. This is a village used to the presence of the Enemy, but they will need our assistance, preferably before the orcs reach their homes. Such is our duty."

He glanced at Amathen, who made no indication of wanting to add anything. Macardil tilted his head and continued to address the gathered Rangers.
"First squad: Kamion, Jaena, Arnyn, Zevarion, Thûllir and Durien - with me. Second and third squads - you're with the Commander."

Waiting a moment for the first squad to mount up, the Lieutenant then led them out of the gate.
"We'll be operating as the vanguard," he told them, his voice loud and clear. "If and when necessary. For now, that simply means we ride first." He led his horse into a canter, knowing it would do no good to exhaust the horses with a gallop with the distance they had to cover. "Come, we are needed!" And with that, they were off.

The second and third squads followed behind them. Commander Amathen spared less words for them than the Lieutenant, but he rode center front and just as well as the best rider among them. There was a light in his eyes that betrayed his need to find the enemy - and to punish them for their crimes.

***

In their wish to protect the village and save its residents from yet another slaughter, they headed in as straight a line as they could. It seemed like the Lieutenant had studied maps and intell on these lands, for he led them on paths that didn't always make sense from the get-go, but which saved them from cutting through terrain which would have slowed them down unneccesarily.

However, they spotted no orcs on their way to the village. None at all. As the first squad approached the village from the dirt path, they could see people just going about their business, carrying baskets and huddling together.

Lieutenant Macardil frowned and looked around at the Rangers next to him and behind him. He was sure they hadn't missed the orcs. Unless the enemy had taken their appetite elsewhere, this is where they were headed.
"Perhaps the light of day has slowed them considerably," Macardil muttered loud enough for the first squad to hear. "The second and third squads could stay here and provide a line of defense if need be. Perhaps we should go and scout the countryside."
His blue eyes took in the six Rangers in his squad - each in turn. "Thoughts?" He wanted to get a sense of the way their minds worked. Rangers didn't only need physical or knowledge-based skills. They needed to have a good head on their shoulders.

*** Can everyone follow Ercassie's example and write Squad One/Two/Three at the top of their posts from here on out, please? That might facilitate things for everyone! ***

[Eriol]

Squad Three

Beren had been spending time with his son, Mourgan, whenever he could (In a series of forthcoming posts between Isolde and I in Eriador soon, flashback RP'ing) but the times he was separated from him Beren had been quiet. He disliked being aloof, it wasn't his way, but a change had been wrought in him when he looked into the eyes that were his own on that sunny day at the dock. Bonding with his son transported him with a joy he had never known and a sorrow Beren had never experienced. He wondered when the happiness would finally outweight the grief. Beren still loathed himself deeply than before that he had lived too many years without seeing Mourgan grow into the good man he had become.

When Turin called the members of his squad over, Beren decided to shove his melancholy & guilt beneath the shroud of duty & camaderie. He strode toward him and gripped Turin's hand in fellowship. "Beren, friend. I'm not sure if you remember me from years ago but I was a Hyandaner once upon a time. I look forward to serving with you and knowing you better." He introduced himself to others in his squad and apologized for being distant. He followed the soldiers into the courtyard and listened with rapt attention at the debriefing. A company of Orcs had been sighted and believed to be readying an attack on a village a few hours southeast from here. It was a large force, greater than two dozen. They would ride and succour them. "Sounds like old times, huh?" Beren remarked to Kaylin, a broad grin forming.

Before the first squad sat their saddles, Beren gently caught the sleeve of Mourgan's arm and gave him a lopsided grin. "I hope you don't mind your old man watching your back," he supposed in a casual tone but he worried there might be too much concern in his gaze and was concious of how for a fleeting second his voice had faltered, suffering an anxious thought that now Mourgan might not want him too near in battle. Beren had no attention of babying his adult son but although he had yet to be reunited with Nelladel, Mourgan's mother, he was determined to make sure no harm came to their child. "This will be our first adventure, kid!" he exclaimed, recovering his cheerfulness quickly and clapped Mourgan on his back. "Let's make it memorable, son. I'm sure your Ma would appreciate hearing tall tales her men will give her." No, Beren was not back together with Nelladel but he was confident and gave Mourgan a wink, something he could anticipate for surviving the approaching storm.

Beren joined the rearguard with a buoyant spirit. An invading contingent of Orcs provided an engaging distraction from his demons and afforded him a common goal with his son. Perhaps the crucible they would face together would temper the strength of their connection. Beren was surprised by the mundane atmosphere of the village as they came riding the dirt path into the community. "This is an idyllic place, we musn't see it destroyed," Beren confided in Turin and Karis as they waited with their squad while others were selected for reconnaissance. "The Orcs might be somewhere in the wilderness closeby, waiting for nightfall to launch their attack," he supposed, lifting his gaze to the sunny heavens. Orcs did not care for Arien's light. "If they're lethargic and resting now, perhaps we have the advantage and can make a preemptive strike." He waited with his squad mates to provide defensive measures, solemnly watching children at play and lovers sharing kisses in the shade of the trees. "How many of the living will still draw breath come sundown?" he uttered to no one in particular. The longer he gazed at the villagers going about their business in blissful peace, Beren found himself murmuring a famous saying of Steward Faramir's from the War of the Ring: "I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”

[Nen]

Hirluin
Squad Three

@All (Just want to let you folk know, I have begun working this past week, and I didn't realised that it was going to take up all my time. This means I get to spend about an hour - maybe more, not sure - posting on Saturdays. So yeah, my participation is on a weekly basis. Sorry about that! Also, my posts are likely to be on the shorter side...)

Hirluin strode up to the stables with his weapons and gear strapped about him. He walked in just as he heard Turin calling out for the third squad to gather to him. He took a note of the team he belonged to: Kaylin from the bar; Karis who he as yet did not know; Turin whom he had just met; Azduir who had only just arrived. Hirluin nodded a greeting to Azdiur and cast a wary eye upon Kaylin, as he made his way towards the mount assigned to him. He regarded the steed with its glossy chestnut coat. It looked strong and well muscled, and like it might be able to bear its burden rather handsomely. A quick check with the stable boy assured him of this fact. ("Cropper can bear anything, m'lor'!" the stable boy had said.)

Hirluin got Cropper ready, and swung himself into the saddle. The Commander and Lieutenant were already out in the courtyard, as he rode out. He listened intently to the orders. Orcs in a village a few hours from here. Would they make it in time? Surely, they'd be long gone by then. But if it was a raid, they'd be passing through.

Hirluin fell into line with the third squad as they brought up the rear guard. He had noted the Commander's silence. This one did not like to talk much. Hirluin could empathise. He usually left all the chatter to the women in his house. Women always knew how to chatter. He would never understand why. Even the women out here - well, not all maybe - had a bit of the chatter bug in them. He smirked as that thought crossed his mind. But almost immediately he shook it off and payed attention to the conversation going on about him. While Hirluin did not care to talk much, he did care to listen. One learnt many things from listening, and he was never loath to share a thought or two. He did want to know what the others thought about reaching the enemy in time. Were they likely to be too late? He grimaced at the idea of finding a village of death. This was a new age, a new era of 'peace' and 'prosperity' without the belching presence of Sauron in Mordor. And yet, with the evil spirit vanquished, his minions still wandered round and about taking petty revenge and doing all they could do to harass innocent people.

They had been riding for a few hours and the sun was reaching its zenith when there appeared to be a halt right up in the van guard. Something is up. Hirluin frowned and glanced around. He strained his ears to listen, but he could make nothing out. His eyes narrowed. He could hear nothing. Why? Had they not reached the enemy as yet?

[Lantaelen]

Abrazimir Dimaethor
Mess Hall -> Stables -> Village
Squad Two

The others discussed their squad listings and Arnyn made a point of them being capable of being friends, despite such placement. He was inclined to agree. They were all comrades, of the Realm of Gondor. “Hope has never failed us yet.” Abrazimir commented, raising his cup in a brief toast before sipping on the water to wash down his breakfast. Hope, indeed. They had prevailed in the War of the Ring and even had a King again. There was always hope if such impossibilities came to pass.

But further conversation was suppressed at the moment, as the voice of Pele Alarion resounded through the mess hall. Abrazimir leapt to an attentive pose, hearing the order and pondering the urgency, but not wasting any time in returning his emptied plate and cup to the side before rushing back to the barracks with a few extra biscuits of bread and a full water-skin stuffed into his inner pocket. He quickly adorned his gear, slung his shield over his shoulder, and tightened his sword belt over his Ranger garb before rushing back out, feeling the press of every second. He had no clue what could be going on. It could be a drill. It could be the real thing. He rushed to the stables and caught sight of some of his squad mates already gathered.

Pele, Unalmis, and Lady Ilisys were ahead of him, with Morwen joining them. Abrazimir joined them, coming to a halt after speeding his way over from the barracks. “Hail and well met. It’s good to see you all again.” He said to the four with a smile, nodding his head in greeting. How long had it been since his last adventure with some of these? It felt like a whole other lifetime. He drew out his horse, assured his saddle and gear were fastened, and waited in the courtyard as the others gathered. Lieutenant Macardil, accompanied by Commander Amathen, arrived to brief them.

At first Abrazimir was attentive, but scarcely had the word orc been mentioned when he gripped his reins tighter and swore under his breath. “Yrch.” He hissed with contempt. Had they not learned their lesson yet? Memories of the Pelennor flooded his mind for a moment. First squadron was going with the Lieutenant as a vanguard. The rest, squad two and three, with the silent Commander, as the main force. The Commander scarcely said a word as he took the lead and seemed to ride with a certain determination. It was shared by Abrazimir. How thrilling it was again, to be in the forefront of a charge!

Abrazimir rode at the extreme right of the column, often keeping a look out to the terrain to the side, in case of ambush. These lands had been under the dominion of Mordor and other foreign powers for a long time, who knew what wicked elements still remained. It was wise to be prudent, even if the Dark Lord had been toppled from his tower. He loosened his sword in his scabbard. He shrouded his grey eyes from the sun with a hand at his brow, but he could see little. Certainly nothing that the first squad probably hadn’t already examined.

“Bait might work to draw them out.” Abrazimir pondered in a low tone, casting a glance to his squad mates to gauge if they had an opinion on such a suggestion. But ultimately, it was up to the Commander to decide.

[Isolde Alarion]

Ranger Mourgan Alarion
Mess Hall ~ Stables ~ Ride
Squad Two

He was just getting to know his fellow Rangers when he heard Pele call out to them all. Things seemed to be getting off to an early start so he joined the others in leaving the table but not before he wolfed down what he could and washed it down with the water.

He grabbed up one of the packed meals and gave a thankful nod to those that readied them. He started to move through the crowd when he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. He looked over to see his Father Beren and his lopsided grin. He had to grin at him. "Don't worry Pa, I'll watch your back as well. As best I can anyways." He could sense his Fathers anxiousness. Newly met he could understand his want to be near but not to smother him. "I'm sure we'll have much to tell her! He gave him a confident nod and returned his clap on the back with a firm grip on the shoulder. Seeing his wink he smiled. "I have to join my group... take care old man. " he jokingly chided him and left him with the sound of deep laughter much akin to Berens own.

The Stable

The walk to the stables was quick and the conversation with his Father had lightened his mood but undernieth he knew what was to come. He tightened his vambraces and settled his sword in place while his quick steps brought him to the chaos which was the stables. Busy was an understament. Making it to Krows stall he was thankful someone had already saddled him but he made sure to check everything himself. Tightened the cinch, small adjustment to his bit, and a quick treat of an apple and the two were ready. He lead the large bay out of the stall and lead forward, looking for his group.

He first noticed Pele. He carefully cut through the masses of people and horses to join her but quickly seen Abrazimir, Morwen, Ilysis and Unalmis. " Well that was a short breakfast." He grinned then gathered his riens and turned to mount Krow. Once in the saddle he adjusted his seat as well as his sword and riens. He was ready now.

The Ride

They were given quick instructions. Squad 1 was to act as vangard and they were to ride behind the Commander. He didn't mind although he was abit unsure of the man but it was his job to follow orders. When it was their time to fall in line he urged Krow forward and joined the pace. He fell into place near the back of their squad although he didn't always stay there when the paths they were lead down narrowed.
Nearing the village they were instructed to stay back while Squad One continued with the Lieutenant. Mourgan slowed Krow to a stop and looked down over the scene. He was confused. He expected carnage and death but instead they seemed to going about their business. Something wasn't right here and it made the hairs on his neck stand. In a lowered voice he looked at the Ranger nearest him ( Ilysis ). " You seeing what I'm seeing?"