The Pelennor Fields, Osgiliath, The Northern Fiefdoms (Free RP)

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir
Harlond - Room in the inn

It didn't take long to check out the room, though Trev hadn't expected that Macardil would come along with him to do it. His main concern had been to make sure tie curtains were closed so that no one might see Trev in this room's window. Standing back while Macardil checked the place more thoroughly, he thought with some amusement that if he stuck around the former ranger much longer, he might learn a few things that would be useful to know.

Hearing the request for his boots, Trev gave Macardil a slightly puzzled look but didn't question it, figuring there was some reason. He was curious what that reason might be. He had not been wearing them earlier when he was out in the rain, but had worn them during the trip from the Siren's Embrace, to this new inn. He was carrying them by their laces which he had tied loosely together, and so at Macardil's request, he passed the boots over to him. Part of the ruse? He tried to think how the boots might be employed, and then decided he was probably overthinking it. People usually put their shoes by the bed when they went to sleep, so he figured that was all.

"Good night.. and good luck." Trevadir bid the former ranger, as he left the room. Once Macardil had gone, he locked the door and glanced around. There was no need to light any candles, since he didn't mean to stay up any later. He went to bed soon after, but lay awake. Just as Macardil had guessed, his mind was racing. There were so many thoughts going around in his head, there was little hope of sleeping just yet. Still, he tried to hush his thoughts and get a little sleep. Tomorrow would be an exciting day, and he didn't want to be exhausted from lack of sleep.

---

It was late before the innkeeper finally went to bed. Jay had waited patiently. Captain Dev wanted to make sure his son didn't get away, and the other two idiots had failed in subduing him at the tavern. Stupid of them, acting without a proper plan. Jay thought they should have just come back and told Captain Dev that they knew where his kid was, instead of trying to take matters into their own hands. One of which was now broken because Grisly underestimated Trev, as usual. Rolling his eyes slightly, the former thief slipped inside the quiet inn once he was sure the owner must be asleep.

The logbook showed two rooms rented in the same name, but a day apart. He frowned, considering what that might mean. He guessed the name to be that of the guy who had reportedly helped Trevadir fight the other two.. but why he had waited a day to rent another room, he wasn't sure. It didn't take long to verify which of the two rooms had been rented out the night Trev encountered Scar and Grisly. Since it was the only room that had been rented on that day, logic told him that must be where Trev was hiding, even if it wasn't his name on the log. It matched up with the window Dev had seen Trev sitting in too, and so there was little reason to expect the Captain's son to be anywhere else.

Most likely, the other guy had come back after some sort of errands. The rain would mean they wouldn't want to travel tonight. Then again, another thought occurred to him. Perhaps Trev's new associate had rented the first room for himself before running into Trev, and he'd rented the second room for Trev after deciding he didn't want to share a room.. but then that didn't explain Trev being in the first room all day. Jay considered this for a few moments, then decided to check the first room, but kept in mind that the second was a possibility.

Before taking to the sea, Jay had been a pickpocket and burglar for many years, and those skills were still useful at times. Such as now, for instance. Jay carefully returned the innkeeper's log book the way he had found it, and let a couple of his crew mates into the lobby, just in case he needed a little help getting Trev out of here. He didn't want them ruining his stealthy entrance, but it was arranged that they would come up to help once Jay gave the signal. He headed for the stairs with a faint smile. He had a bit of a grudge against Trev, himself, but Dev wanted him alive and unharmed, so Jay would bring him unharmed. Mostly.

Jay and his associates had kept themselves dry by waiting in a building across the street, and now, Jay's steps fell silently as he climbed the stairs slowly. At the top of the hall, he paused and listened for any sounds before proceeding. The doors along the hallway were clearly marked with the numbers, and it didn't take long to find the correct one. He glanced at the door opposite, noting the number on it. That was the door to the other room, so he would keep that in mind.

Taking out a small leather roll, he knelt on the floor by the door and unrolled it silently, selected a lock pick, and got to work as quietly as possible. The lock was very little challenge for him, and soon the thief-turned-pirate eased the door open, stepped inside silently, and took a look around the dark room. It was difficult to see much. but he wasn't unfamiliar with exploring rooms in the dark without awakening their occupants. And there was the occupant of this room, asleep on the bed(or so he thought). Stupid kid, thinking he could get away this easily, that he could rob his crew mates, sabotage the ship, and all those other things he'd done... then just run off and abandon them, without having any repercussions. Jay narrowed his eyes at the sleeping form on the bed, took a deep breath and calmed himself. He'd bring the kid back alive, let the captain deal with him, but Trev'd be lucky if no one else took out their anger on him once they had him back on board the ship.

Stepping softly, Jay started toward the bed. His first plan was to get Trev's flute away from him.. he had no intention of giving Trev a chance to use his weapons against him. And since Trev never let it leave his person, Jay figured he'd find it under his pillow or in his hand or something of the sort. Then he stopped, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he studied what he had first thought was a sleeping form on the bed. Maybe it was merely due to the darkness in the room, but he wasn't seeing any rise and fall of breathing, and frowned slightly, considering the possibilities of what this might mean.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Nothing happened for a long time. The window and the door remained undisturbed. The sounds on the streets had died down long ago. Drowsiness was pulling at Macardil's eyelids. The idea that Devedir and his crew might have let things be became more and more likely with every passing moment.

Then the smallest of sounds came from the door. Macardil opened his eyes wearily. Was he imagining it? The sound continued a bit longer, until he heard a gentle click. His blue eyes flew open. His muscles tensed as he door inched forward.

The dark shape of a man entered. Macardil didn't move as the intruder looked around the room. Once the intruder almost closed the door - though not quite, as he left it ajar - and stepped further into the room, Macardil rose quietly. As the man halted all of a sudden as he looked at the bed, Macardil moved behind him quietly. With a precise motion, he aimed to elbow the man in one of his kidneys.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Jay

An uneasy feeling crept into Jay's stomach, frowning at the bed. It was too dark to distinguish much at all, but whatever was on the bed was not breathing. So it was either a bunch of pillows, or a dead body, and he rather doubted the latter. This made him feel suspicious and wary. There were plenty of times in his.. career.. that Jay had been caught, or nearly caught. Therefore, he had enough experience to know when to retreat, and flee the scene. In this instance, he recalled a few things that he hadn't bothered to consider until now. Who was this man who had taken an interest in Trevadir? What sort of experience did he have, and what was his interest in the captain's son?

As the thought crossed his mind to wonder whether this new pal of Trev's might have set a trap, Jay became aware of someone moving behind him. It was difficult to say whether he sensed the movement, or heard the faint, barely audible noise as the other person's clothing shifted from his movement. Regardless of how he detected the other's presence, Jay whirled swiftly, just in time to get elbowed in the side of his arm instead of his back. Startled by the attack, Jay stumbled sideways a step or two, wincing slightly at the pain in his arm. He didn't take time to think through what he would do, but simply reacted by shoving back at the other as hard as he could, hoping to unbalance the unknown attacker and push him back a few steps, to give Jay more room to do..whatever he would do next.

He could tell by the size and height of this man that it was not Trev... so, his new friend, perhaps? Jay had no reason not to kill this guy. He reached for his dagger, then thought better of the idea. He had no idea what he was up against here, and he certainly didn't want to end up dead, himself. Instead, after a split second's hesitation, Jay ran for the door. With any luck, the other man would have been caught off guard by the shove, and that might buy Jay a little time to get back into the hall and summon his backup.

If he could just get into the hall before the other man, he thought everything should still work out alright for them. He could signal the other two waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and let them take care of this guy while Jay checked out the other room. That had to be where Trev was hiding out, he realized, wishing he had thought to anticipate such a move before now.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

The shove did move him backward. He had to place one foot behind him to steady himself, then another to make sure. Macardil's gaze never left the intruder, and he saw how the man first reached for something, seemed to change his mind and then moved for the door.

Macardil had told Trevadir that an attacker would probably cut and run when they saw he wasn't Trev. This turned out to be true. Yet Macardil had no intention of letting the man go back to Devedir so soon. That is, if the man hadn't had any friends close by. He hadn't heard much of a code among pirates. Odds were they thought it was ridiculous to fight one-on-one if they could bring more people to a fight.

Since the man had pushed him back, Macardil was positioned rather well to head for the space in between the intruder and the door. A few quick strides brought him in front of the door before the intruder could, and Macardil grabbed him with both hands, planning to use the man's forward momentum to whirl him around and slam his back into the door. Since it had been left ajar, the man's impact would cause it to slam shut completely.

What would happen next, remained to be seen.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Jay

He was glad he hadn't closed the door completely, leaving it easier to exit hastily in case of just something like this. Jay figured, if he could just get out into the hallway first, he could close the door and hold it for a few moments at least, while he signaled to the others waiting down below. Then when the stranger got the door open, he'd find two big muscular guys to fight him, and Jay would be free to check the room across from this. That was his plan, swiftly devised as it was. It would have been amusing to see the guy's face when he triumphantly yanked the door open only to find the odds against him had changed. However, fate had other plans, it seemed, and Jay wouldn't get to see that happen.

Before he could get through the door, the thief found himself spun around and slammed roughly into it. The sound of the door slamming shut drowned out the 'oof' from Jay from the impact of his back hitting the door. His exit was blocked. This wasn't part of the plan. None of this was part of the plan. What now?

Generally, when choosing between 'fight' and 'flight', Jay would almost always choose flight until that option was out of the question. Not because he didn't know how to fight, but because he preferred not to risk getting himself killed if he could avoid it. But flight had just become impossible without some amount of fighting, and so he did draw his dagger now, with a swift but strong thrust of the blade toward the man's abdominal area. If Macardil hadn't been wearing maille, and the attack succeeded, the blade would have done some damage. If he wasn't stopped after the first attack, Jay's next move would be to slash toward the maille-clad man's face, and try to get a foot against his chest in the hopes of shoving him away from Jay. If he could just get a little space, and a moment, he could get on the other side of the door. Maybe his plan could still work out after all.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

The intruder was too quick for Macardil to stop the thrust. His hands were still holding onto him securely - not a choice he would have made if he hadn't been wearing the chain underneath his shirt. The former ranger did manage to make the thrust veer off course a little by letting go of his opponent with his left arm and pushing quickly against the man's striking arm. It caused the weapon to slash through his shirt on his right side, but it skid off the mail rather than poking into it with full impact. Hopefully the man had brought no other weapons.

A wry half-smile, which would be mostly concealed in the darkness, crossed Macardil's face. The mail would likely be a surprise for his opponent. "Wrong room."

He kept pushing against the man's arm, causing it to move further to Macardil's right. He tried to grab onto the man's right arm with his left hand, to keep it hindered and occupied.

Macardil had debated how he would go about this fight, should it come to be. At the Siren, he hadn't wanted to harm anyone. Not in public. Not after they had called him a traitor. He did not like violence.
But this man had come here with premeditation. To take Trevadir with him, or hurt him - or worse. Whether the plan was to hurt him here or in some secondary location hardly mattered. The intent was despicable. And it might be necessary to send this Devedir a clear message - a message in addition to the one Trevadir had already sent by sending back the other two with the injuries they had sustained. Besides - Devedir was a wanted man, and as such so was his crew. Add to this a break-and-entry like this, in the middle of the night... he was more than within his rights to draw blood here.

Macardil's right hand kept a tight grip on the man's left upper arm while he tried to wrench the dagger from the man's right hand. When it became evident the intruder was trying to create more space between them, the former ranger gritted his teeth and held on tighter with both hands. Not a chance, he thought...

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Jay
Harlond - Room in the inn

Jay certainly hadn't expected the man to be wearing maille, and when his follow up attack was prevented by the man catching his wrist, the thief began to panic a little. Everything was going wrong. The carefully laid plans were falling apart, bit by bit. Wrong room indeed! "You don't say..." He muttered sarcastically in reply. He was trapped in it now, and outmatched by this unknown guy, cut off from his backup. Maybe they would have heard the door slam, and come to find out why? If they used their brains, they ought to know Jay wouldn't be slamming doors (That was far from stealthy!) and that was an indication something was wrong, but would they use their brains? That was the only hope he had right now. And that was somewhat discouraging.

The stranger was trying to get the dagger from Jay's hand, and close to succeeding too. Jay's main focus at this point was to keep the weapon from stabbing himself during the struggle, since he was not wearing maille and had no wish to personally feel how easily the blade could piece unprotected skin. Through the door he was pressed against, Jay thought he heard hurried footsteps in the hallway, heading this way.. from the stairs. Could that be his backup? He really hoped so, because he was in quite a situation here, and couldn't signal to them that he needed help. "Look, I think we've both made a mistake," Jay declared, in case that was his crew mates coming. Hopefully, they would hear his voice through the door, and realize he might need assistance. "I'm just a simple burglar... Who has clearly chosen the wrong room." He laughed faintly, as if hoping the two might reach some agreement. "And you're clearly expecting someone.. with your 'warm welcome' here. I haven't taken anything.. why not let me go? Save your trap for the one you meant it for, huh?" He had no doubt that he was indeed the one this trap was meant for, but perhaps he might confuse the guy and make him uncertain. Jay had done nothing so far to indicate he was anything but a thief who failed.

About that time, he recalled that he had other limbs he could use. His upper left arm was pinned, but not the lower part. As swiftly as he thought of it, and hoping his words might have caught the man off guard, perhaps make him hesitate, Jay brought his left arm up to grab the other man's forearm and put sudden pressure down on the elbow, trying to weaken, or even break, his hold on Jay's left arm. At the same time, he attempted to hook a leg around his opponents' opposite leg and pull, hoping to force the other's left knee to bend suddenly and throw him off balance. If he could manage this, Jay could then give him a quick shove and the man should, hopefully, fall over. And hopefully, that would enable Jay to get out and let his buddies in.

***




Trevadir

His eyes were closed, yet he had not managed to get to sleep. Trev sighed, rolling onto his other side, as if that might be more comfortable. A million thoughts ran through his mind. A variety of conversations that might happen played out in his mind. What would Toby say to him? What would grandma say? Would his other grandparents be against him? Would they want to see Trev again? Would Cali insist that he make those reports now, once he got into Minas Tirith? Another dozen ways that conversation could go, played through his mind. Followed by what might happen if he did go talk to the guards. He couldn't see that ending well for him. Not as long as Rip was a lieutenant. What would Trev do about that, he wondered? Would he be any safer?

With his thoughts leaping around all over the place like that, Trev had little hope of actually sleeping. Every now and then he would remind himself to clear his mind and try to relax into sleep, and before he knew it he'd be wondering about something else. Had there been many changes in the city since he left? He'd heard they had to reconstruct the main gate, and there were a variety of other rumors that had reached him about elves and dwarves coming to help rebuild after the war. Such rumors carried on to say that they'd completely redone the city, some even claimed there were tribes of those folk living there now, but considering how many other rumors had turned out to be completely false, Trev was skeptical about these, yet still curious. Would he recognize anything? Did his grandmother's house still look the same? What about that tree house in the backyard, was it still.. Oh wait, yes, the others had mentioned it, but none of them had been sure if it was stable enough to hold their weight anymore. His thoughts roamed again, wondering what Toby was up to now. Well, probably sleeping, right now. Of course. Because most people would be sleeping at this time of night. Trev sighed softly and turned over again. He was so excited, and nervous, and unsure about what would happen tomorrow.. what he would see, what would be said.. he couldn't seem to shut his mind off.

He felt like he'd been trying to sleep for hours already, without success. Trying to focus on the sound of rain, Trev was just starting to think he might begin to drift off, when a sudden bang startled him out of any hope of sleep. Brown eyes snapped open, his heart pounding. For a brief instant, he wondered if he'd fallen asleep and it was already morning and Macardil knocking to wake him.. but no. It was still quite dark, not yet morning. That bang had come from the hall though, and sounded more like a slamming door than a knock on one. In a moment, Trev had sprang out of bed, flute gripped tightly in one hand as he stared through the dark room toward the door. Was someone trying to break the door down? Tensed, he listened for a moment. After a brief hesitation, Trev separated the dagger from its flute-sheath, so that he held two weapons instead of one.

Dagger in his right hand, flute in his left, Trev silently crossed the room and paused near the door. If someone was going to break in here, he wanted to be hidden, but also near enough to the exit that he could potentially slip out while they searched the room. Listening carefully with an ear to the door, he kept close to the hinge side so that if the door opened, it would hide him from view. Whatever was happening, he didn't want to be caught by surprise. A muffled voice, and faint footsteps in the hall. He frowned, his thoughts going worriedly toward Macardil, but so far he had heard nothing to indicate what was actually going on, and so had no idea that there was an intruder already in the room across the hall. But something was obviously going on out there, and he was alert and listening in case it was the trouble they had feared might come.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

He could feel he was making progress in trying to wrench the dagger from the intruder's hand, into his own. Macardil clenched his jaw and pushed himself harder, putting his strong arm and shoulder muscles from archery as well as the nimbleness of his fingers from playing the violin to good use. The man's attempts to break the hold on his arm, were pointless.

"You have made a mistake, yes," Macardil agreed, his voice low. "Whether or not I have, remains to be seen."

Just a bit longer... and the dagger would be his opponent's no longer, the former ranger knew. Yet suddenly he had obtained the dagger - somewhat more quickly than he had expected - and the reason why soon came to light when he felt something hooking his left leg and pulling. His center of gravity was forcibly changed. Not enough to fall over, but enough for the shove to bring him off balance. Since he now had the dagger in his left hand, the connection between them there had been broken. But he wasn't about to let go of the other man's arm with his right hand, and he held onto the intruder firmly. To either take him with him, or use him to regain his balance.

They both fell. The resulting thud was not light, given the weight of two men, one of them wearing armour.(Agreed with Rillewen.)
They grappled on the floorboards, Macardil at a clear disadvantage - both despite and due to the dagger he had gained from the intruder. For he was still recalictrant to cause anyone any serious injuries if he could avoid it. Moreover, the intruder hand landed on top of the former ranger, which gave him an additional and obvious upper hand in the grapple. Macardil thus focused on not using the blade in his hand, holding onto it, and not letting his opponent hurt him much in return.

Meanwhile, Jay's two buddies out in the hallway did not have to even make sure of the room number on the door. There was little question which room their fellow crew member was in. They assumed that Jay was fighting Trev, and that he indeed could use a hand. One of them tried the door, found it unlocked, and opened it swiftly, just when Macardil had managed to barely get Jay off him and both of them were retreating away from each other, scuffling to their feet.

The sight of the two others might have made Macardil swear, if he were prone to such language. Instead, he frowned, and drew his own dagger as well, so he had a blade in each hand. Three of them. That was bad. If they had any brains, they might send one or two off to search for Trevadir, while one or two others tried to keep him busy. And if the young man was sound asleep....

"Trevadir!" His voice boomed, hoping it might wake the young man. It would possibly wake others, as well... but even though he did not want any spectators, he was more concerned with Trevadir's safety. And the young flutist would be safer awake and involved in the fight than he would be getting assailed in his sleep.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Jay
Harlond - Room in the inn

Jay did not anticipate getting dragged down with his opponent, but continued to struggle. He needed to get free from him, so he could get out of this room, but he couldn't do that as long as the unknown man was grappling with him, intent on keeping him trapped. The thief believed that the other man would try to stab him if he could, and so his focus was primarily on keeping the dagger away from himself, while trying to get the dagger back away from him. In addition to this, he made use of whatever else he could; knee, elbow, foot.. whatever was free to strike his opponent, he tried to do so. He took a few blows in return during the struggle, though it was to his advantage that he had fallen on top, and he tried to keep his opponent pinned. If he had known that Macardil had a dagger of his own at his belt, he might have tried to grab it, but it was too dark to see, and he had no time or chance to search him for such things.

At last, he had a chance to break free, and broke away from the grapple, hastily putting a little distance between them. His backup finally managed to find their way into the room about the time Jay had gotten back to his feet. "About time..." He muttered, relieved by his crew mate's belated arrival. Due to some lamps in the hallway, light spilled into the room at last, enabling Jay to actually get a better look at his opponent, and saw him draw another dagger. Jay wasted no time in ducking around his fellows and through the door, with a parting instruction, "Keep him busy!" as he darted into the hall.

Those two were chosen to come because they were usually pretty good at fighting and working together. They sneered as they made sure to block the exit so that it would be quite difficult for the man to follow Jay. Weapons were drawn as the two pirates prepared to do as they were told.

---

Trevadir

More thuds, sounds of a scuffle.. it was faint, but Trev could hear a bit that was going on. He frowned, worried. What was going on? Was that coming from Macardil's room? Was he in danger, as Trev had feared? A dozen terrible possibilities raced through his mind, knowing what the pirates were capable of, and the sort of things they had done in the past. He tried to remind himself how the former ranger had handled himself in the bar, without any weapons or armor. And tonight, he had both. Still... what if there were too many for him to handle? Trev glanced toward the door. He had left the key in the keyhole, slightly turned so that it would block anything (like a lockpick) from being inserted into the keyhole. A trick he had picked up on since observing how easily a certain crew member could pick a lock, unless there was an obstruction there.

After a little hesitation, Trev unlocked the door and cautiously cracked it open, just a sliver. Enough to peek out.. and just in time to see two familiar men pushing their way into the room across the hall. Trev's eyes widened, alarmed by this. A moment later, another familiar face emerged. Jay was looking a little bit panicked as he exited, and also looked as if he had been in a fight. Good, Trev thought with slight satisfaction.

But, soon after, he heard Macardil yell his name. That didn't sound good... was the man in trouble? Did that mean he was in need of help? Trev could think of no other reason the former ranger would have yelled his name like that. His first instinct was to rush to his aid immediately, but then.. he thought better of that. If he ran out into the hallway right away, he might end up getting grabbed, or at least intercepted, greatly delayed... and then he would be of no help to Macardil. So instead, Trev softly closed the door as he saw the ship's stealthiest member pausing to select a lockpick from his collection. Trev backed up to the wall, pressing himself flat against it, and waited.. anxiously. What could be happening to Macardil? What if he didn't get there in time?


Jay had the lock open in no time (in fact, he didn't even notice it was already unlocked), and pushed open the door, biting back a curse at the fact the other man had yelled so loudly, clearly meaning to warn Trev. With any luck, the boy would still be confused and groggy, if he had been asleep, so Jay would need to act quickly. He crossed the room swiftly in hopes of catching the young man off guard.

In his hurry to get across the dark room, he didn't notice Trev slipping out from behind the door, until the room was suddenly cast into total darkness as Trev swiftly closed the door behind him. Jay realized immediately he'd made another mistake, and cursed under his breath as he ran back to the door, chasing after the evasive flutist. But the door was already locked, with the key or something blocking the keyhole. Jay kicked the door, frustrated, and called out to try and get the other two men's attention, hoping they could do something useful, like grabbing Trev before he escaped, as he assumed he was probably going to do. Run away, like he ran and hid before.


Trev left the key in, on the hallway side of the door. Hopefully, that would keep Jay trapped, although he sort of doubted it. Not for long, anyway. In the meanwhile, he could at least level the odds a bit.. assuming he hadn't taken too long to reach Macardil. Hurrying across to the other room, he was glad to see, by the light from the hall, that there seemed to be only two others besides Macardil. Still, two against one was poor odds, even against a very good warrior. It just took one moment of not being quick enough and it could end badly for that one.

Unwilling to let that happen if he could help it, Trev swiftly tried to assess the situation. One of the pirates was attacking Macardil from one side, while the other, the one closest to Trev, was aiming a slash with his cutlass toward the former ranger's head. Trev lunged forward and caught his arm, looping his arm, flute and all, through the bend of his elbow, before the slash could come close to landing, and attempted to pull his arm down and twist it into an awkward and uncomfortable position so that he couldn't use his sword. It was more difficult due to the difference in their sizes, but the man was caught by surprise at Trev's sudden interference, and was preoccupied with this new struggle so that Macardil was left only the one enemy to fight.. for a bit at least.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

When the initial intruder made a run for it, busted lip and all, and the two others blocked Macardil's persuit, the former ranger immediately engaged them. They had longer blades than he did, but he would have to deal with those when he waited as well. And moving fast could be a powerful tool of intimidation.

The initial attacks and defensive moves were a blur. It had been Macardil's game, but he was still not aiming to injure or kill. He realized, after a moment, he would not be able to keep this up. Not against two armed opponents. And if he injured them in the right way... they would not die, but would no longer be able to fight at least.

When a new player came into the fray, he recognized Trev. Had the young man already dispatched of the initial intruder, then? That would be impressive - although Macardil did worry that perhaps if things had gone so swiftly, Trevadir might have delivered a fatal injury. Hopefully not. Would it fit into Devedir's schemes if his son were truly a wanted man? Would he sacrifice one or more crew members to that end? Was Devedir here, this night? Macardil did not know.

Muscle memory guided his movements more than conscious thought as he parried and dodged the pirate attacking from the side. Macardil was always very aware of his own hands and the risks involved for them when fighting, given that he was a musician just as much as he was a warrior, and the loss of the use of his hands would be a terrible fate - even if only for a few weeks or months.
So, just when Trevadir was twisting the other attacker's arm, Macardil blocked his own attacker's weapon with his off hand and swiftly moved to slash the tendons of the pirate's hand.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir

Trev didn't have much chance to feel victorious in managing to stop the pirate's attack at Macardil. Nor had he taken much time to think this thing through, or he might have chosen a better manner of stopping his attack. He still held the flute in one hand while trying to hold onto the man's arm, and his dagger in the other as that hand tried to hold onto his wrist, keeping his arm bent over, the wrist up close to his shoulder so he couldn't use his sword, and his elbow was stuck sticking out in front of him.

As soon as Rurik realized what Trev was doing, the man shoved Trev hard up against the nearest wall, holding him pinned there with his own weight. Rurik was a bit taller, much stronger, and bigger-muscled than his opponent. He trusted his buddy Borim to keep the other guy busy so he could take care of Trevadir.. their own way, now that Jay had apparently abandoned them.

Wincing, Trev grunted from the impact as he was slammed into the wall, air was driven from his lungs as the full weight(and elbow) of his opponent was thrown into Trev's chest. He felt his grip loosen a little, though he managed to hang onto Rurik's arm. His flute was pinned between his fingers and Rurik's arm, and he could feel it trying to roll, making it harder to hang onto him. His other hand, trying to help maintain the grip, held his dagger, and he was trying to keep the blade away from Rurik's wrist. He didn't want to kill the man, and feared that a slip of the blade on his wrist or arm might do just that. He wished now he had left it sheathed, because both hands were occupied in trying to hold onto his weapons as well as the enemy.

As Rurik sneered and jammed his elbow again into Trev's chest, the latter cringed, then brought his knee upward into Rurik's stomach as best he could, but couldn't get much force behind it. Rurik grinned, pressing closer, his elbow digging in harder. "Captain says to bring you back alive.. unharmed." He informed Trev, speaking in a low and threatening tone. "But he ain't here.. and I've got different ideas in mind, you sabatager." He looked all far too eager to do the exact opposite of what the captain had ordered, and Trev recalled this man had often questioned Dev's orders or grumbled about them, and had even once got caught up in another (former) crew mate's attempt at mutiny, but since it was the other guy who'd led it, his followers had been allowed to remain in the crew after some punishment.

Knowing now that the man had definite plans of harming him, Trev had no intention of letting him carry through whatever he had in mind. Unfortunately, he was pinned, which hindered him a lot, but he wasn't completely defenseless. He still had a dagger, but was reluctant to use that. Rurik, on the other hand, had a free hand. The pirate grabbed Trev's right arm and yanked it away from his own, trying to twist the dagger out of his hand, and not even noticing that the blade had sliced across his arm; exactly what Trev was trying NOT to do. Rather than let the pirate get his blade, or let it accidentally harm anyone else in the room, Trev flicked his wrist so that the dagger was flung away from them both. He heard it clatter to the floor a few feet away, out of reach. "I think the word you're looking for is 'saboteur'." He corrected him with a grin, not in the least apologetic about what he'd done to deserve that accusation.

A short distance away from where the two of them struggled, he heard the other guy, Borim, swear loudly as Macardil's blade cut tendons in his hand, making it impossible to hold onto his weapon. Borim dropped his sword, but swiftly snatched it up again with his other hand, angered now as he held his right hand close to himself. He was less effective trying to fight with his left hand, but determined.

Rurik glanced over as his buddy got hurt, his attention faltering for just a moment.

It was just enough for Trev to twist his wrist from the man's grip. Paying little attention to whatever was going on with Macardil and the other man, Trev kept his attention on Rurik. Swiftly grabbing the flute out of his other hand, he meant to renew his grip on Rurik's arm, but the other was too quick. Trev was still wincing from the painful elbow that had been jabbing hard into the center of his chest, but saw the man aiming a left punch toward him. Naturally, he swiftly ducked, and used the opportunity to slip off to the side, no longer pinned between him and the wall. Rurik growled in pain and frustration as his fist punched the wall instead of Trev's face.

Next came a slash from the cutlass, but Trev blocked that with his flute, and swiftly disarmed him with a fluid motion Rurik didn't even see happen. The pirate paused for a second, caught off guard, then lunged forward and made a grab for Trev, still intent on doing some harm. "Come here, you little rat," He snarled as Trev evaded his grasp with a quick sidestep.

Still, his chest was hurting in the center, and he had a feeling it would take a while to stop feeling so. Trev was a bit distracted by the pain and the fact it currently hurt to take a breath, and didn't realize how close he was to the table and chairs. He collided into the table when he tried to step to the side, and before he could recover from that clumsy move, he felt Rurik's hand closing around his throat. Tucking his chin in instinctively, he reached up to grip his wrist with one hand in an attempt to weaken his hold, and felt his fingers digging into the wound the man hadn't paid attention to. It felt slick with blood, and Trev hoped it wouldn't be too serious.. probably not, if he got it tended to in time. "Rurik..you're bleeding," Trev informed him, his voice a little strained as the man's grip tightened a little more than was comfortable.

Rurik paused to glance at his arm and notice the wound for the first time, looking surprised.

As soon as he was distracted and glancing downward, Trev brought his free hand up to pop him hard in the nose, hard enough to bring twin rivulets of blood trailing down from each nostril. The man cried out and staggered backward several steps in surprise, his hand swiftly coming up to cover his (probably broken) nose, swearing angrily, but held back from re-engaging in the fight again, for now.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Right before he moved to slash the tendons of Borim's hand, he heard the distinct and familiar sound of a weapon, a blade, falling to the floor. The next sound came from Borim, who cursed as Macardil's attack accomplished its goal. His weapon, the second weapon this night, dropped as well.

There was not enough time however, for Macardil to pick it up in a way that didn't risk taking a blow from the pirate. So Borim was the one who snatched up his own weapon first, even as Macardil dimly heard Trevadir and Rurik exchanging a few words.

The former ranger wanted to see what was going on with Trevadir, but his own opponent had his blade once more, and even though it was his off hand caution was to be advised. Macardil knew better than to have his attention divided.

He had the decisive upper hand now, however. One weapon in each hand and unhurt, whereas his opponent only had one weapon which he could no longer wield with his main hand. Cutting the man's tendons the way he had wouldn't even make it possible for him to make a fist anymore. Macardil did not like to draw blood, but he had tired of engaging these people without causing injury. Sometimes, lessons could only sink in when the ink they were written in was red.

With a speed that left Borim almost frozen in place, Macardil's right-hand dagger hit Borim's weapon away from them both, to slam the end of his left-hand dagger's hilt into the man's torso on his right side, just below the rib cage. Borim instantly started curling up and backed away from Macardil with a wild look in his eyes. A look that could even be discerned in the shadows of the room, thanks to the muted light falling through the door from the hallway.

A thud and a pained growl of sorts drew his attention, and the former ranger's eyes flicked over to Trevadir's confrontation with Rurik. He saw Trevadir blocking a cutlass with his flute and disarming the man. Reassured that Trevadir was holding up well, Macardil stepped closer to Borim, who was still bending over, clutching his torso where Macardil had punched the dagger's hilt into his liver. He sheathed his own dagger, only keeping Jay's in his left hand, and grabbed the hand with which Borim was still holding onto his weapon for dear life. Macardil unceremoniously twisted the weapon from the man's hand. The impact of his earlier punch made it as easy as if he were an untrained child. The former ranger pointed Jay's dagger at the floor by the pirate's feet as the man crumpled to one knee, groaning.
"I would advise you to stay down. Unless you want to lose the use of your off hand, as well."

Stepping back so he could have everyone in the room in his peripheral vision, Macardil's eyes widened when he saw the other pirate's hand closed around Trevadir's throat. His boots crossed the distance to the pair even as Trevadir punched the pirate smack dab on the nose. While the man spouted profanity through the blood running down from his nose into his mouth - a detail which the former ranger could not see - and shuffled backwards, more or less towards Macardil, the latter picked up Trev's discarded blade on the way, holding both weapons in his left hand now.

With Rurik glaring at Trev, Macardil elbowed the pirate in the lower back and then immediately curved his right arm around the front of the man's neck in a choke hold, making sure he was fast enough so Rurik couldn't wedge his chin in between his neck and Macardil's arm. He maintained the hold until he felt the man going limp, and maintained it still as he lowered the unconscious pirate onto the floorboards, making sure the man's head didn't hit the floor too hard.

After letting go, Macardil still watched the pirate for a moment, to make sure it had not been a ruse and the man wouldn't jump back to his feet. Once he was satisfied, he took the last few steps over to Trevadir by the table. After switching the flutist's thin blade to his right hand, Macardil casually held it out to Trevadir while glancing at both of the pirates.

"What did you do with the other one?" he asked, as if he were asking about a misplaced cup.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir

Trev was thankfully spared from having to defend himself any further, as Macardil stepped in to assist him. He leaned against the table as he watched the pirate slump to the ground, absently holding his free hand pressed lightly to his chest where the man's elbow had dug in, as if that might do some good. There was still blood on his fingers, which he didn't notice due to the dim light. Concerned about whether the other pirate might try something, Trev glanced past Macardil to make sure Borim was still down. He wasn't making a move, busy clutching his wounded hand. Possibly a bit wiser than his friend, Trev thought.

He returned his gaze to Macardil as the former ranger approached him, a little surprised to see that he'd picked up Trev's dagger, and smiled slightly as he accepted it back, with the same hand holding the flute. "Thanks," He had hated tossing it aside, but had deemed it the best move at the moment. Trev had no idea how late it was by now but he suddenly felt very tired, and winced faintly as he sunk into one of the chairs, still keeping his hand to his chest. He could still sort of feel where the man's elbow had jabbed into his sternum, and figured it would take several minutes for the pain to subside. Macardil then asked what he did with the other one. Trev was momentarily confused, thinking he meant 'the other dagger', and was going to say there wasn't another one. Then he realized, of course, he meant 'the other pirate'.

"I locked him in my room," Trev answered with a slight shrug, a slightly pained sound in his voice. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's gone by now, though." He had known of Jay to escape from more difficult situations than a locked room with a window, in the past. Trev couldn't imagine the thief not making use of a window for an escape route once he realized he was trapped, and figured the man was well on his way back to the ship by now, unless he'd hung around to try getting to Trev again, or to wait for his two 'thugs'. "That's Jay.. he's more the type to flee, unless he's forced to fight." Trev grinned. "He had an almost panicked look on his face when he got away from you the first time. I don't think he'll come bothering us again. He wasn't expecting you, for sure."

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

"We should verify whether he fled or not, first." It would be better if the man - Jay, his name was apparently - was still locked in the room. Macardil would prefer to hand over all three pirates to the authorities rather than having one of them escape to tell the tale of their failure, where they were and that Trevadir had a friend with him who could fight. He nodded at Trevadir's words, a slightly smile playing around his lips. It had been enjoyable, in a way, to see his trap well sprung.

"I agree. I doubt they will send anyone else tonight," Macardil mused, giving Trevadir a quick look before striding to the door. "Even if this Jay reports back what he knows. They know we'll be ready and will likely assume there might be guards around after this - or that we left altogether. They've lost the element of surprise."

On his way out of the room, Macardil picked up Rurik's cutlass - the only weapon which had still been lying on the floor. This meant he was now holding all three of the pirate's weapons, two in one hand, one in the other. At the door, the former ranger paused, making a quarter turn to look back at Trevadir. "The blood you have on you. It is not yours?" It was a hope more than an expectation.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir

Trev glanced down when Macardil called his attention to the blood, and paused for a moment to check. "No, it's his," He answered once he'd verified the fact, with a motion toward Rurik's unconscious form. He let out a little laugh, with only a slight wince. "This shirt is just doomed to be bloodstained, isn't it?" he shook his head a little in amusement, as it was the same one he had been wearing before when they got into the other fight. At least that meant he still had the other to wear when they went into the city tomorrow. Or was that later today by now? "I'm fine," He assured Macardil. "Are you?" He asked, wanting to make sure. "I thought maybe you were in need of help when you yelled for me."

Once assured of the fact, Trev nodded slightly. Macardil seemed intent on checking whether Jay had escaped or not, so Trev wasn't going to hinder that. "Go on, I'll keep an eye on him," He indicated Borim who was still on the ground, clutching his hand and moaning in pain. Rurik was still out cold, but Trev figured he'd be awake soon. Trev slid his dagger back into the flute to sheath it, with a twist to secure the blade inside. Then he glanced around for some rope or string he could use to secure the two pirates. He definitely didn't want to have to fight Rurik again when he woke up. But they'd also need bandages. He slid his flute into his belt and took a moment to light a lamp. That way he could better watch the pirates. Prisoners, he thought in slight correction.

Once the room was better lit, Trev looked for the bandages and other supplies that Macardil had brought, while keeping an eye on the wounded men while Macardil was out of the room. He wasn't sure how bad either of the men's wounds were, but he figured they'd need some tending if they were going to stay alive to turn over to the guards. His chest was already feeling a bit better, less painful to take normal breaths.

A sudden movement alerted him to Borim trying to go for the door, seeing this as a perfect moment to escape. Trev swiftly caught up and grabbed him, knocking him to the floor again. He grabbed the wounded hand(the easiest to get hold of) and twisted it behind his back. "Just sit still, will you?" He grumbled, over the sound of Borim's groan of pain.

"What're you gonna do, turn me in, so you can get some leniency for yourself?" Borim snarled. "Think you'll get any mercy from that king? Weren't you there at Pelargir?"

Trev looked down at him, frowning as he pulled his arm a little higher up his back. "I don't need leniency. Turns out, I'm not wanted." He informed the pirate, pleased to be able to say that. "You might get a little for yourself, though, if you cooperate. So, sit still and quit fighting, alright?"

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

He waited for Trevadir to check whose blood it was. Glad to hear it was not his, Macardil flashed a smile at the flutist's humor. "Instead of your lucky shirt, it could be your bloody shirt," he said drily, before waving away Trevadir's question with the cutlass. "Not in need of help so much as wanting to warn you. I did not want that Jay to chance upon you in your sleep, and hoped I might wake you." With a last look at the two pirates, Macardil nodded and turned around fully to approach the other room's door.

The key was still in the lock on his side of the door. That meant the man had not escaped coming through this door at least, for he would have needed to push th ekey out of the lock to open it, Macardil assumed. He tucked the cutlass in his right hand in his belt - which was not very dangerous giving the chainmail he was wearing underneath his shirt. His right hand now free, he cautiously opened the door, not stepping in right away but surveying the room from the hallway, one weapon once again in each hand.

The window was open. It was easy to see, since it was on the opposite wall. Yet an open window did not necessarily mean the man had left the room. Macardil had seen much in his day, and had learned to be careful with assumptions. An open window may very well be a diversion.

His gaze surveyed the room from the hallway. Then he stepped in, listening carefully for the slightest noise, first checking whether no one was hiding behind the wall or the door. No one was there. As the former ranger was searching the room, he heard boots scuffling over the floorboards behind him, and a heavy thud - someone falling to the floor. Macardil whirled around, and was slightly surprised to see Trevadir looming over Borim. The younger man was clearly in control. After he was satisfied it would remain that way, Macardil finished his inspection of the room. Jay was gone.

Discontent, he made his way back to the others. As he stepped into the hallway and flicked his blue eyes back to see how Trevadir was still handling Borim, he saw Rurik - with smears of blood under his nose, around his mouth and down his chin, stepping closer and closer to Trevadir. The flutist had not yet noticed, it seemed, and the pirate was just about ready to attack Trevadir from behind.

In a split second, Macardil realized that while he could call out to alert Trevadir, the young man was still holding onto Borim... And if Trevadir were to loosen his grip on Borim, the pirate might as well turn to attack Trevadir immediately. And the two pirates would be faster - they were right next to Trevadir, while Macardil was still a few yards away. And if anything had been made abundantly clear by the night before, it was that this crew really held a grunge against the flutist.
If Trevadir were a Ranger, Macardil would still have chosen that route, perhaps. But Trevadir was a civilian - even though he had proven he could handle himself in a fight.

Macardil gritted his teeth. Another way then. He was close enough for it to work. Jay's dagger was poised in his right hand. He brought the dagger back over his shoulder and then threw it. It cut through the air. Over Trevadir's shoulder. Into Rurik's. The pirate was silent as he automatically grabbed at his shoulder and stepped back. He groaned as he looked at the weapon, embedded in the muscle and flesh beneath his shoulder.

Macardil quickly crossed the rest of the distance, passing Trevadir and Borim by and putting the cutlass on the man's throat before Rurik could pull out the dagger and perhaps try and use it against him. "That was a kidney shot, before," he said in a low tone of voice, referring to what had caused the pirate to lose consciousness before. "But it can be worse. Much worse. I do not particularly wish to regale you with the options. But if you choose to persist, I shall."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir

Trev had grinned after Macardil's words about the bloody shirt, appreciating the humor in the comment, before the former ranger left the room. Now, left with the two pirates (one unconscious) for company, he was focused on keeping Borim pinned. He had no rope that he could think of, and if there was some, Trev was too weary to remember it. He wondered what time of night it was. Midnight? Three am? Or perhaps nearly dawn? He had lost track of time while he lay trying to sleep, and for all he knew it could still be ten or eleven in the evening. Whatever the case, he thought the rain had stopped by now, as he could no longer hear it against the windows. Maybe their travel in the morning would be dry. Would they be bringing these pirates along, he wondered?

While he held Borim pinned down on the floor, waiting for Macardil to return, Trev had begun to wonder what they would be doing with them. Suddenly, he was startled as a knife sliced through the air just above his shoulder. He could actually feel the wind from it as it went past him. Trev tensed, lifting his gaze upward, and saw Macardil in the hallway. The former ranger had apparently just thrown the knife, judging from how he stood, and the way his arm looked as if he'd just thrown something. Taking a look over his shoulder then, Trev saw Rurik grabbing for his shoulder, the handle of the dagger sticking out of it. Trev had thought Rurik was still unconscious, and inwardly cringed at realizing he'd let his guard down. And realized that he might have been killed just now, if not for Macardil, because Rurik had already declared his intentions to kill Trev if he could.

Rurik clenched his teeth, clearly in pain, glaring at Macardil as he held Rurik's own weapon against his throat. "No need." He growled in answer, through his clenched teeth. He didn't try to fight any more; in fact, he was weakened somewhat from losing so much blood.

"Thanks, Macardil." Trevadir said softly, once the former ranger had finished his warning to the pirate. "I was going to tie them, but.. I don't know where any rope is." He mentioned, frowning slightly. "And I figured we ought to bandage them up so they don't bleed all over the innkeeper's floor. And, well, you know.. so they don't die before we can get them to the guards.. or whatever." Trev added, with a half-joking smile, but also slightly unsure what the plan was from here. Not that the pirates would've had the same consideration if things had gone their way, but it seemed the decent thing to do. "I'm not sure what to do for his hand though," He looked at Borim's hand. Cut tendons were definitely more serious, and probably tricky, wound than Trev had ever dealt with.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Macardil nodded at Trev's questions. "It would be more convenient if we had at least one more person here. To tie them while we make sure they do not try and act on their foolish ideas again," he said, looking Rurik in the eyes with a level stare as he spoke. "It is likely the innkeeper will not be long. One of the reasons for this establishment's excellent reputation is the innkeeper's insistence on tranquility during the night. He will not take kindly to what has happened here."

He had hardly finished his sentence, or the innkeeper's silhouette filled the open doorframe. "That is mighty right," he said, angry at having awoken at this hour of the night and discontent that the other patrons would have been bothered by whatever had ocurred. "What happened here, and why is it causing such a ruckus?"
It spoke to the man's vigilance that he was here - after all, considering the events, all in all they had not made too much noise. Yet Macardil knew it was likely those sleeping next door to his room would have been roused by him calling out to Trevadir and then the several thuds and thumps that would have come from the room during the fight.

"I am afraid we will have to ask for your forgiveness, mister Hopshire," Macardil spoke, as he turned Rurik around slightly to be able to look at the innkeeper. "I was assailed during the night, and so was my friend, mister Thôrmaetha."

The innkeeper's expression changed when he realized who of his guests was involved, to one of incertitude. "Assailed?" he repeated questioningly, taking in the scene in more detail; Trevadir holding down one man who looked quite the ruffian indeed, Macardil holding a similar man at blade's edge, a dagger sticking from below his shoulder. "What?" There was a lingered grumpiness in his tone, but his anger seemed to have plunged into a bucket of cold water, doused by the way Macardil had given the reason for the turmoil.

"Fresh prisoners for the guards of the City beyond," Macardil explained further, still with that strange calm that betrayed his experience with matters which would stress out most people beyond what they were equipped to handle. "Whether they were trying to rob us or worse, is difficult to say with certainty. My friend here has reason to believe they were of in intent to do worse, but there is no proof for such a claim. Yet this does not change the fact that they entered your establishment well after the lights went out, and broke into two rooms which I rented from you - seeking to do us harm in one way or the other. Two of them we managed to apprehend, and these two you see before you now. Alas, the third managed to escape our grasp."

Mister Hopshire was a tall, thin man, greying at the beard but with a pair of strong hands and arms from performing years of the manual labour running such an inn involved. He took another moment to take in the scene before him and his two guests, who had not seemed like troublemakers upon arrival. "I should alert the guards, then," he spoke slowly, some suspicion in his voice although the men who had been subdued indeed looked like criminals much more than the two men who were keeping them in check. "Your name, sir, is Macardil...?" he inquired, as if it were an afterthought - though it was rather obvious he was asking for more.

"So it is," the former ranger said with a confidence that was perhaps unfounded, given how his reputation had not yet been righted everywhere - and thus also divulging no more information than what the innkeeper already knew very well. "Can we direct these men below, perhaps?" he suggested, "So that we may reduce the burden to the rest of your clientele? And would you perchance have some rope on hand, so we may secure them until the guards' arrival?"

To this, the innkeeper readily agreed. He led the way to the main room on the ground floor and brought the rope Macardil had requested, assisting in tying Rurik and Borim's hands behind their back while Macardil and Trevadir kept them from resisting. After their arms had been tied, Macardil checked the bonds and directed them each to a chair, also tying their feet by the ankles.

"When the guards arrive, they will be taking our statements," Macardil explained to Trevadir. "I fear we will not get much more rest until dawn."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir

Trevadir looked up at the sound of a new voice, a little startled because he hadn't heard the man approach. It was the innkeeper, rather than any reinforcements coming to help the pirates, as he had first feared. Fortunately, the man seemed willing to believe what Macardil told him, so that was good at least. Trev continued holding Borim's hand behind his back, determined that the pirate would not get away. He glanced briefly at Macardil, first at the wording 'my friend' and wondering if he meant that.. and again at the mention that they had no proof of the men's intentions of harm. His first thought was to correct him and mention that Rurik, at least, had stated his intentions quite clearly. But then, it occurred to him that such a statement would likely require him to explain why the pirates were after him, he decided to keep his mouth shut. There was no need for the innkeeper to know Trev had any association with these pirates.

"Alright, up," Trev ordered Borim, once they seemed to be moving downstairs. He kept a secure grip on his arm as he followed the rest down to the main floor. Once they were both tied up, Trev finally relaxed slightly. At least, until Macardil mentioned they would have to give their statements to the guards. He glanced at him, instinctively tensing slightly, but let out a slow breath as he tried to relax. Macardil had said he wasn't wanted by the guards, he shouldn't have any reason to worry. Unless.. he glanced briefly toward the two pirates, wondering if he had reason to worry what sort of things they might say when the guards came for them. He wasn't sure about Borim, but Rurik was definitely the sort of guy to take his enemies down with him when things turned against him. Trev vaguely considered suggesting they tie gags over their mouths, but decided against it. That might make people wonder if he had a reason to want to keep them quiet.

He tried not to let the possibility trouble him too much, but the worry was still there in the back of his mind, though he diverted his attention to the other part of what Macardil had said. "No rest at all for me, then." Trev answered with a slightly nervous laugh. "And possibly not for you, either." He guessed, having a suspicion the former ranger had not slept thus far, in order to be alert in case the pirates tried exactly what they had tried. "How far off is dawn, anyway?" He wondered, glancing around for some means of telling the time. "I feel like it's been several hours since we parted earlier.. and yet it also feels as if it might have been only an hour or so." He rubbed his right eye (the left was still sore), beginning to feel a bit tired now that the excitement of the attack was pretty much over. "I have a feeling I'll sleep well enough whenever I do get the chance again, anyway."

[Rillewen]

Jay with Dev
The 'Wingolost', secretly docked at the Chandlery

The rain had slackened off significantly as the night wore on, until it stopped entirely. The docks were wet as Jay came aboard, but it was no longer raining. The moon was even trying to peek out from behind a cloud.

After escaping through the window, he had hung around outside for a few minutes before slipping inside cautiously, but couldn't get close enough to get back to the room without being captured or seen himself. Still, lurking from the stairs, he had managed to get some idea what was going on, and when he learned that the other two had been captured, he knew there was no chance he was going to succeed now. With a soft swear under his breath as he heard the innkeeper approaching, Jay had ducked into a shadowy corner, then slipped out of the inn while the man was upstairs.

Dev was waiting at the rail, thoughtfully stroking the gyrfalcon on his shoulder, and watched with a frown as Jay returned.. alone. "So," He glanced at the other man. "I take it..things didn't go well?"

"About as bad as things could go," Jay agreed, frustrated as he pressed a hand to his lip, which was still bleeding. "He's got a friend, it seems. A very clever friend who's an excellent warrior, as it turns out." He mentioned, bitterly. "He anticipated our attempt tonight, and set a trap for us."

"A friend?" Dev frowned, turning toward Jay curiously.

"'Macardil' was the name on the innkeeper's ledger. He rented two rooms...I picked the wrong one." He lamented. "Nearly got killed, too."

"Macardil," Dev repeated, thoughtfully. "The same one who helped him the other night, in the tavern." He looked closely at Jay. "What do you know about him?"

"He outsmarted me, outmatched both Borim and Rurik, and he managed to get my dagger away from me." Jay scowled.

"He used to be a ranger." Dev replied thoughtfully. "After Scar and Grisly returned the other night with their.. account of what happened to them, I did a little investigating. The man is no longer a ranger, but.. he was a lieutenant. It's very little surprise then, to hear how he managed himself tonight." He frowned, resting his folded arms on the deck. He did not mention having found a message in a bottle that Trev left in the harbor for.. someone. "But what interest has a former ranger got in Trev?"

"I'd be more worried about what he intends to do with our men." Jay mentioned.

"They aren't dead?" Dev looked at him, slightly surprised. "I thought.."

"He defeated them. I didn't say he killed them." Jay explained. "When I left, they had them both subdued, and I heard something about rope and guards."

"Trev helped this Macardil, I presume, since you said 'they'..?"

"Yes." Jay closed his hands around the railing, annoyed.

Dev frowned, lightly stroking Nirngaear's snowy white feathers. "Guards..." He repeated, frowning deeper. "Yes. Of course he would involve the guards.." He wondered if Trevadir was nervous now. "Though he's no longer a ranger, he likely still thinks like one." And that concerned him a great deal. Dev glanced at Jay. "I think it's time we left this town."

"What about.. them?" Jay wondered, not necessarily out of compassion, but mere curiosity drove him to ask.

Dev considered for a moment. "Hm. Did they do anything worth risking our lives for?" He wondered, glancing toward the town.

Jay thought about that. "No... not really." he shrugged. "In fact, I think they went against your orders and tried to kill Trev."

Dev frowned to hear that. "Well, then, whatever fate befalls them now is their own doing." He decided. "They deserve whatever they get. We're setting sail immediately. I want to be far away before dawn.. otherwise I have a suspicion there will be unwelcome company boarding the ship by then."

"I thought you said we weren't leaving until we had him back in custody?" Jay reminded the captain, somewhat surprised at this change of heart.

"That was the plan," Dev agreed, frowning. "I don't like having to change it, either. I'd rather he didn't get away from us... he knows too much about us.. our ways, our operations, our contacts... not to mention rather damaging things about our associates... but alas, there isn't much we can do at this point. I, for one, have no desire to get involved in some unnecessary battle with guards, and risk injury to myself, my ship.. or my crew." He gripped the railing tightly, brown eyes narrowing as he glared in the general direction of the inn. "Don't worry, though. I'll figure out something, sooner or later." He vowed. "I know plenty about him, too."

Jay nodded, then went to gather the crew so they could get underway as swiftly as possible, and by dawn, if any guards came looking for the ship, it would be long gone.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

Macardil smiled at Trevadir's comment about lack of sleep. No, there had been none for him either. "We can both sleep when the guards have left," he said quietly.

The innkeeper sent his son over to the nearest guard post. Upon his return, three guards came with him.

One of the guards took them aside: the innkeeper, Trevadir and Macardil. He spoke to the three of them together, although he surveyed the innkeeper first, who told what he had heard and seen until the guards' arrival.
Macardil was next - and he told everything true: he told them he had reason to believe someone meant Trevadir harm, after the latter had told him about a street encounter earlier that day. That the combination of the story of the encounter and Trevadir's skittish reactions to Macardil himself knocking on his door, had left him with a concern he could not shake. That he had therefore rented a second room and had insisted Trevadir sleep there, instead of in the first room. That the feeling in his gut had driven him to arrange the pillows the way he had and to wait in the chair - but that his hopes of being able to fall asleep regardless had been in vain in favor of his apprehension proving true. He detailed everything he remembered from Jay's break-in up to bringing down Rurik and Borim with Mister Hopshire. When the guard asked where he had learned to fight, Macardil said he had been taught from a young age, that his parents saw it as part of his education, and that he had been a ranger for over a decade and a half before sadly having to give it up after a mission earlier that year.

When Trevadir was asked whether he had anything to add to the day's and evening's events, Macardil looked at the flutist with a calm expression. The former ranger had told the guard no lies, and yet he had said nothing about the fact he knew the man Trevadir had encountered was his father - nor had he said anything about Trevadir knowing the intruders. He had given Trevadir options to choose from: He could either choose to divulge those parts, or he could choose to be vague in a way that did not raise too many uncomfortable questions.

Of course, there were other factors that Trevadir needed to take into account. Borim and Rurik would be surveyed as well, and they might try and toss Trevadir under the carriage, so to speak. And then Trevadir would either have to lie or come clean. Would the young flutist take such a risk, Macardil wondered?
In a way, the pirates had put him on the spot.

One of the other guards approached them before Trevadir had a change to reply. She told her colleague in a soft tone of voice that the prisoners refused to speak. The guard questioning the innkeeper, Macardil and Trevadir sighed audibly. "Typical. The case seems pretty clear-cut to me." He looked back to Macardil and Trevadir. "We have descriptions for these men. They belong to a pirate crew - not the kind of folk you want to get involved with. You're lucky this is all that happened, and that you were prepared. The night could have ended very badly for you both."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir

The whole time the other two were speaking to the guards, Trev couldn't help feeling tense. Listening to Macardil talk, he was glad for the details he didn't hear mentioned, but still couldn't help feeling nervous. Especially about the pirates. What if they started telling a bunch of lies about him? It was the very reason why Trev had not wanted to make any report about the Umbarian who tried kidnapping Cali and Iole, why he had refused to join them in sharing what he knew of them, after the midsummer. For fear of what sort of lies might come back to discredit him, and for fear that his own reputation might badly affect their own testimonies at some later time.

He was rather surprised, then, to hear that neither Rurik or Borim would talk to the guards. That was a bit unexpected. Still, Trev didn't trust them to stay quiet for long. He tried to think of what he knew of them, and what he knew of Dev's expectations for his crew. They wouldn't dare tell anything about the ship or the crew, he guessed. They probably wouldn't admit having been sent after Trev. But after they'd had some time to think, they might come up with some sort of tale to drag Trev into the dungeon with them, and that was what he feared most out of this situation. They would probably start telling a lot of things, true and untrue, about him being among their number, and having sailed with them for years, and so on. He couldn't imagine what sort of untrue things they might come up with, but he didn't really want to think about it, either. It occurred to him to try and give the best impression he could on the guards now, so that they were less inclined to believe the other two.

When the guard turned to ask Trev some questions, he initially froze, unsure what to say, but thankfully the timely arrival of the other guard spared him having to answer anything for now. He momentarily breathed easier, but swiftly tried to think of what he might say, when the interrogation(as he considered it) would undoubtedly resume. It took some effort to remain still and not fidget with his flute, as he had a habit of twirling or otherwise handling the familiar metal tube at times when he was nervous. Especially after hearing that they had descriptions of the two pirates. If the guards had descriptions of them, for being part of the crew.. why wouldn't they have his, too? He almost wished he'd thought to grab his hat, but then.. it might look a little conspicuous to wear a hat in the middle of the night. They were lucky, the guard said, mentioning that the night could have ended badly for them, but he had little idea of just how badly it might have gone. Trev wasn't sure if even Macardil knew quite how bad it could have been.

Deciding he ought to at least establish that he had at least some prior encounters with these pirates, he spoke up at last. It might help later, if Rurik and Borim decided to start talking and making things up about him. "Lucky indeed," Trev agreed. "I have some knowledge of these pirates, for I have encountered them before, several months ago. I'm afraid I may have made personal enemies of them." He shifted, uncomfortable to have the guard's attention on him, but continued. "This same crew was involved in an attempted abduction of two young ladies from the White City, last autumn.. both of whom happen to be very close friends of mine." He frowned.

"Anyway... I, along with two other guys.. both active rangers I believe.. managed to locate and rescue the girls before any serious harm came to them." He was going to say 'no harm' but then remembered Cali's arm had been injured. She probably didn't consider that 'not serious,' but Trev knew how much worse it could have been. "The pirate crew was.. somewhat upset.. to lose whatever profit they would have gained by delivering the girls to the market in Umbar." He explained quietly. "It was the captain of the crew who confronted me this afternoon. He didn't try anything then, probably because we were in public.. but there were.. threats, of a sort. Hinted threats, at least." He shrugged slightly, dropping his gaze. "I can't really tell you much else."

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

While Macardil maintained his calm and composed expression with a practiced ease that had come naturally for many years now, Trevadir's additional information for the guards did cause some inner surprise. More than that, he was perhaps even impressed to some degree. One corner of his mouth tugged upward for what may have been a quarter of an inch. What an interesting young man he had encountered and chosen to assist.

At the mention of two active rangers that were involved in rescuing these two friends, Macardil assumed one of them would be Unalmis, whom Trevadir had mentioned as a friend before. It would make sense that he would have been involved, especially if Trevadir's two abducted friends were also friends of Unalmis. And who else could have helped? Perhaps he would ask Trevadir about it, later.

Before the guards left, Macardil lightly suggested that, in case they were looking for this particular crew and three of them had make an appearance, perhaps the whole crew in question was moored at the docks. The guard who appearaed to be taking the lead looked at the former ranger for a moment and then gave a slow nod. After they left with Rurik and Borim, Macardil apologized once more to the innkeeper. He took the man apart, some strides away from Trevadir, speaking in low tones. Upon their return, mister Hopshire's face had cleared considerably.

"We are free to use the rooms until lunch," the former ranger informed Trevadir. "I suggest we both try to get some more sleep. Then we eat, and start on our way to the White City." His blue eyes gauged Trevadir's expression. "Last chance for some sleep before we go meet Lieutenant Dealedwen."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Trevadir

Hearing Macardil's suggestion to the guards, Trevadir hesitated a moment while the guard was reacting, and then offered up the name and description of the ship, to make it easier for them to find it, including a rough estimate of the number of pirates aboard. Given what he had just told them a moment ago, it seemed logical enough that he might have learned these tidbits of information while in the process of rescuing the girls. And finally, the guards were leaving. Trev relaxed slightly, relieved that so far, no trouble had come from them.

As Macardil took the innkeeper aside for a moment, Trev was mildly curious but didn't try to eavesdrop or anything. Remaining where he had been left, he took out his flute and examined the sides carefully. Satisfied that Rurik's cutlass had left no marks upon it, he smiled and put it back into his belt. Macardil was returning by then, with news that they could remain until lunch. Which meant they had best use that time well. Whatever time it was now, lunchtime seemed a long enough ways off that it seemed they might get a proper night's rest after all. He smiled. "Great, I couldn't get to sleep before, but I think now I could." He was fighting the urge to yawn, in fact. And now that Macardil mentioned Lieutenant Dealedwen again, Trev began to feel a little nervous. But he tried not to think about it.

"See you in a few hours." With that, he set off toward his room, his weariness growing with every minute that passed. Once in the room, however, Trev took a few minutes to check it carefully. Even knowing that Macardil had already done so, it wouldn't hurt anything to check that Jay hadn't doubled back and hid in the room, waiting for him to return... But once assured this was not the case, he closed the window and made sure it was secure. He locked the door, leaving the key so it would prevent any lock picking efforts, and then collapsed onto the bed. Trying not to think about whatever would happen during that meeting with the lieutenant, he fell asleep quickly, gripping his flute close to his chest protectively.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen


Macardil
Harlond, at the inn
After midsummer

They would have gotten some six hours of sleep or so, before one of the inn's workers came to wake them. Macardil and Trevadir vacated the rooms once they were ready for the rest of the day, moving quickly as to not burn any bridges with the mister Hopshire. When they came downstairs, two light lunches awaited them - the innkeeper had taken into account this would feel like a breakfast to them. As it turned out, the man was quite pleased with the events of the night. Apparently some of the crew was rumoured to have given his son some trouble a few months earlier, and even though the people involved were not those two who had been caught, it still sated part of his grudge.

All in all, it did not take long for them to get to the stables. Macardil's horse was waiting, and so was the horse he had been able to loan from mister Hopshire. The ride to Minas Tirith could be very swift if they chose, or they could adopt a slower pace and still arrive well in time to honour their agreement with the Ranger Lieutenant. Macardil was pleased. As eventful as the night had been, they sustained no additional injuries, two of the pirate crew had been captured and handed over to the guards, and he had learned new and interesting things about the young man he'd come to see as a new friend. Doubtlessly, on the road to the White City, he would learn more still.

To be continued in the MT Streets and Levels thread

[Ercassie]

Gwandhyra Harion – A Surprise Visitor
at Daisy Dairy Farm, Pelennor Fields. On Duinion’s first overnight stay in the Barracks.
Meeting Erynneth (in response to THIS POST)
@Rillewen

He rose these days with the dusk, rather than at dawn, and so the lack of light did not impede him. Passing through the Pelennor Fields, he was as though an evasive afterthought, a glimmer left behind of the battle which had been, years now. before. The Man was dressed in darkness, his mud-caked hood hung low, amber eyes though bright. This land had once been his playground, where he frolicked carelessly with friends. Now, sharpened and scarred by war, both he and the landscape wore an edge of all that they had seen since.


The modest little house would have drawn many a hungered, weary traveller, despite of the hour. But he knew hunger of a kind that no good fare would satisfy and an exhaustion he had long since married into his existence. Never did he appear washed and fresh and decent, so that his mother would despair to have eyes on him now, if she had not since gone into her grave during his long sojourns abroad. His dark hair was shaggy, falling to his shoulder below a lantern jaw which was as like to set in grim uttered warning as to laugh aloud and just as soon unsettle the unwary. His cloak folded and fell about his movements, as might a folded pair of ragged wings confuse his form. Long steady legs were lost amidst the silver grass, even as more of him was else revealed, coming from a close by copse unto the dairy farm. Slowing as he closed the gap between he and his destination, the abandoned scene of Duinion’s campsite grew in definition. Somehow any further of his face still did not.


Gwandhyra knew that Duinion had intended, however begrudgingly, to sleep over this night in the Ranger Barracks up on the Sixth Circle. He also knew that this decision had left his own sword, which he had unhappily entrusted into his blood brother’s devoted keeping, likely now forsaken out in the unguarded fields. As hapless a guardian he had personally proven to the blade himself over the years, he nonetheless could not rest without reassurance of it's being undisturbed. It was only the unforeseen arrival of a small female thief in his own hideout which had caused the Ranger of the North to surrender his mighty blade to Duinion’s safeguarding in the first place.


It was only his promise to that ally, not to become involved in some Lieutenant's new ‘trying experiment’ which meant that Gwandhyra required a distraction this night. For if he could not hasten to his friend’s aid at such a difficult time (and Duinion had made him promise not to), then he must try to console himself with checking if the sword had been left behind. He was unlikely to sleep at such an hour regardless.


If he were not mistaken though, there was someone here in the shelter which ought to stand empty on this eve ! A cough was the only prologue to his tapping the side of the shelter calmly with a long knife he had retrieved from his boot. If his fool friend had elected not to do his duty, then Duinion was going to get an earful. If it were someone besides that man, .. then this night might prove to be more intriguing than Gwandhyra had ever envisaged.

[Rillewen]

Private with @Ercassie

Erynneth Raedor
Daisy Dairy Farm - Pelennor
(During Duinion's first night in the barracks)

A soft sigh escaped from Eryn. Despite knowing why Duinion was not here tonight, she still missed his presence, and felt guilty for having pushed him into doing something he clearly did not want to do. Though she reminded herself that, after this, he would have to do this from now on, at least once a week. Or once every two weeks. She suspected he'd go with the latter, but she wasn't sure. Still. If she hadn't been trying to help him, interfering, he wouldn't have to spend this night there, and add unnecessary overnight stays onto his sentence. Or, at least, her father seemed to consider it like a sentence. As if he'd done something wrong. She frowned, resting her chin in her palm as she considered this, trying to make sense of her dad, thinking about things she had never really considered before.

Before the girl could delve too deeply into the matter of psychology, she was suddenly distracted by a soft, almost imagined noise. She stiffened, lifting her head slightly. Did she just imagine the whispered sound of grass parting? Thoughts of wolves and mountain lions flashed through her mind, and she almost wished she had not left Hattie behind in her room. And her father had taken his daggers with him. She'd even packed up that special dagger of his, thinking it would be a comfort to him to have it with him. Still, Eryn had not abandoned her bow. In fact, she usually kept it stashed out here among her father's things, and she quietly picked it up, now. Just to feel a little more secure. The memories of her and Kaylin's ill-fated excursion into Ithilien was not so far behind in her memories, and, fortunately, she had an abundance of arrows all about her.

Her hand wrapped around the handle of her lightweight weapon, hazel eyes glued to the shelter's opening. Her breath stilled, held captive in her throat as she listened intently, hardly daring to move even for breath. Recent memories flashed through her mind. Orcs.. scary, ugly, vicious orcs, chasing her and Kaylin, intent on killing them. But there were no orcs here in the Pelennor, right? Not anymore. Not since the war. They'd patched up the wall and made it stronger, and the orc threat was greatly diminished, right? Suddenly, a quiet cough startled her. There was indeed someone there, right outside the shelter! That was no orc though... but a man. Eryn jolted slightly with a tiny, almost silent gasp, as her fingers swiftly searched among the many arrows stowed under the shelter, beside her on her left. One of these was on her string in seconds, needing no light to quietly clip the notch onto the string, due to many hours of practice.

The moonlight, by which she had initially thought she could study that mysterious sword, now served to reveal a shadow, stretching ominously across the campsite, beginning near the side. It was not clear, but.. she could make out enough to see that the man was positioned just to the side of the shelter, as if waiting for her to emerge... and he held what appeared to be a knife in his hand! Chills crept down her back and she felt glad she had her bow. Her heart was racing faster, but she remembered it was important to try and keep calm. Slowly, Eryn released the breath she was holding, forcing herself to try and relax. Knowing that there was an unknown man out there, tapping on the edge of the shelter with a knife, was terrifying... but she wasn't without any means of defending herself. Did the stranger already know she was here? Or... would it be unwise to call out and alert him to her presence? Perhaps he had no idea, and was only investigating what appeared to be an empty campsite. Or, perhaps he had been watching, and had seen her come out here alone. Perhaps it was a thief who had already stolen that sword, and was now looking to take more things?

Swallowing, Eryn tried not to feel so nervous, and took a slow breath. "Declare yourself and your intentions," She ordered as steadily as she could manage. "And..drop your weapon... if you don't wish to use it to dig an arrow out of your knee." She couldn't actually see his leg to shoot it, but maybe he didn't know that. And, short of tearing the shelter apart(which would be a bit of a task, she thought) he could only get to her by moving into her line of fire. Despite her attempt at sounding tough and confident, Eryn felt sure that the little hint of fear and hesitance would probably be obvious to any sort of man who went sneaking around houses at night, carrying knives and such.. but she still tried not to let it be too evident. And she didn't intend it to be an idle threat, anyway, even if she might sound like a frightened young girl. Since that's partly what she happened to be... but the other part? That part was a girl who had already faced some scary stuff and won, and who was determined to prove she could be just as good a ranger as anyone, even her dad.

[Ercassie]

Gwandhyra Harion – A Surprise Visitor
at Daisy Dairy Farm, Pelennor Fields. During Duinion’s first overnight stay in the Barracks.
Meeting Erynneth - @Rillewen

The silence spoke. Declaring that the owner of this den was not at home. For sure as he should have expected for Duinion to sense him, sure would that same friend know who was like to come calling at such an hour. Even if he had decided to forego his summons up to the Sixth, the man would have made himself known with immediacy. He was no coward. Which was why.. he would not have foregone the summons up to the Sixth.

It took longer than his friend would have. The response. The voice which did emerge out of the Ranger’s lair though was another which Gwandhyra knew. In at least that he had heard the girl, seen her with his own eyes when she would at times come out to speak her goodnights to a most beloved father. He had hung back, waiting in the wings, until the parent and his child were appeased.

Her spoken challenge now made the man startle, although only the expansion of warm brown eyes betrayed him. If she had – but how could she from where she sat ? - seen his face within that moment, then she would have observed amusement. Also intrigue. Mostly the smile which lit behind the dark beard and the soft relax that fell about his limbs. Not the sort of excitement he had half-expected, but still .. interesting. She was her father’s daughter, alright. He was sorry that he ought to go. And also concerned in what great fear he might now leave her to wallow in, were he to do that decent thing. No. Best not that then.

“How ever might I do the one, if forced unto the other ?” he asked the night, fighting hard to keep the smile out of his speech. Low tones, he recalled, belatedly, and cleared his throat in hopes of keeping their exchange cloistered by the hour. He had no mind to wake or worry dear Aggie, nor face a wagging finger at lurking about the place so late to scare her cattle.

“I dare not face so fierce a foe, without some small defence,” he replied, and tapped the side of the small shelter again before making his surrender. “Or shall you grant me clemency, Erynneth Raedor ?”

Holding both hands up and aside their respective shoulders, including the one which curled dirtied fingers about a long, serrated knife, Gwandhyra ducked low. And moved in to present at the entrance to the shelter.

“I am your prisoner good lady,” he raised one eyebrow, and squatted on the balls of mud-caked boots for her to see. Though, he blocked much of the moonlight in doing so. "Nice evening is it not ?"

[Rillewen]

Private with @Ercassie

Erynneth Raedor
Daisy Dairy Farm - Pelennor
(During Duinion's first night in the barracks)

The prowler did not drop his weapon, but he did reply to her, and what he said seemed a bit alarming. Was he actually refusing to drop his weapon? Did he think she wouldn't really shoot? Maybe he thought a girl couldn't do it, or that she was only bluffing. And he did not answer about what his intentions were, she noticed! She frowned, wishing more than ever that her dad was here tonight, but he wasn't. So she was in this herself. Which meant, she'd have to take care of this situation on her own. Her fingers hooked around the string carefully, drawing it back about halfway as her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious. If the trespasser made one move to try and come in here, whatever his intentions, he'd certainly regret it!

Instead, he spoke again. Was he making fun of her? But.. then, to her surprise, it dawned on her that she recognized that voice, though she had only heard snatches of his speech once before, too low for her to make out the words. Eryn paused, tilting her head in curiosity, as the mysterious voice went on. He knew her name! She blinked and hesitated further. After a moment, she let her bowstring relax slightly, carefully considering this unexpected development. "You..." Eryn declared softly, in a hushed tone of surprise. She did not even bother to ask how he had known her name. This must be the same man who had been talking with her father the other night, right? And if that was the case, he must be the same one who had been coming semi-frequently to visit him at night. And if this was a friend of her father's, then it made sense he would have mentioned her at some point.

As the unknown man suddenly moved down into view, in front of the shelter's opening, Eryn's instinctive reaction was to draw her bowstring back slightly again, as if she might still let the arrow fly if he made any sudden moves. If she were a more skittish type of girl, the man would surely have been greeted with a well-aimed arrow for such a bold approach after she had given clear warning of what to expect. But she held it there, not even fully drawn. Eryn hesitated a moment longer, trying to decide what to do. He didn't sound alarmed by her threat to shoot him, and his words did not have a malicious or threatening sound to them. Nor did his voice. It took her a moment to see that he had his arms held out, as if in surrender, and in fact, he even declared himself to be her prisoner, though he didn't sound serious at all. In fact, he sounded...teasing?

By now, Eryn was more intrigued than alarmed, and slowly eased the bowstring to a mostly relaxed state, though not entirely. Her fingers remained on the string along with the arrow, for now. She could not see much about the stranger, but she didn't feel quite so frightened, now. After another moment's thought, she lowered the bow into her lap, and breathed out slowly. With a faint smile, eager to maybe have a chance at getting a few answers at last, Eryn asked softly, "You're his mysterious friend, aren't you?"

[Ercassie]

Gwandhyra Harion – A Surprise Visitor
at Daisy Dairy Farm, Pelennor Fields. During Duinion’s first overnight stay in the Barracks.
Meeting Erynneth - @Rillewen

The moonlight behind him, Gwandhyra’s reveal at the shelter’s entrance had effectively managed to drown the young girl in the depths of his own looming shadow. Her basic silhouette within gave very little away, save for her form being as taut as she had promised was her bow string. When Eryn finally lowered the weapon into her lap, her ‘guest’ got perhaps his first real indication that she was actually armed.

“Mysterious,” he laughed, and with a slow shake of his head, began to wonder just how deadly were young girls become since the last time he had lived overlong in Minas Tirith. This was not the first time he had been accosted by a surprisingly apt young miss. It was entirely probable that she wouldn’t in fact .. miss, either, if she did choose to shoot at him. Hoping that this unlooked for encounter might prove less perilous to his health than the last, the man tilted his glance sidelong.

“And yet ‘friend’, yes, I will grant you.” He ducked his head in a belated confirmation of her guess, after bringing his amusement to a rather abrupt conclusion . “Your father did not tell me that you would be camping out here tonight,” he followed through with, idly. As though they two had been conversing for several hours by now instead of merely moments. “I thought he was leaving the place empty. I imagine you thought the same thing.”


An owl's call, from the beyond somewhere behind him, saw the stranger stiffen. And as he twisted briefly on his fine balanced stance, it occurred to him quite how uncomfortable that position might prove, if he committed to it for any great length of time. Much less how unwise it was to sit with his back to all else about him. Caught up in wondering though how he could find out quite how much Erynneth knew, he pressed one hand against the ground to a side of him.

“Might be we can judge each other better, if you come out here and we just .. sit ?” he suggested, with a shrug. “With such a sentry set to guard your father’s sleeping quarters, I daren’t invade your shelter. Especially since my leg is gone right to sleep in this position ..” he shifted his limb as though to prove how stiff it had become.

The leg was not at all stunned to ‘sleep’ of course, but it might likely make the young thing feel better and equal the odds a bit if she was nervous. The last thing he wanted was to scare her. Because then she would definitely shoot him .. And Duinion would never let him forget such a thing, if it should occur, not for the rest of all his days.

"I know he did not tell you about me," Gwandhyra remarked, with a glance back towards his friend's daughter, as he found a seat on the fallen log further outside and waited to see if Eryn would venture out of her shell. "He wanted to, and I made him promise not to. Your father would not break a promise," was the steadfast opinion. The bait. The lure.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Erynneth Raedor
Daisy Dairy Farm - Pelennor
(During Duinion's first night in the barracks)

The stranger seemed to find it amusing that she referred to him as mysterious, yet he confirmed that he was indeed a friend of her father's. Eryn grinned. "I knew it." She proclaimed, proud to hear her guesses proven correct. There was some satisfaction in knowing that her observations had not been in vain. It dawned on her, hearing what he said afterward, that this mysterious friend of his must have been just as alarmed by her being here as she had been when he arrived. Eryn blinked in the darkness, thinking about that. "That's because he didn't know I would come out here," She informed him with a slight shrug. Before she could offer up any further explanation, however, an owl's call drew away the attention of the visitor(for she no longer considered him an intruder). Eryn paused, falling silent as she listened, wondering if it might be more than an owl, having observed the man tense up. Or at least, from what she could tell of him through the darkness it appeared that he might have tensed.

The invitation to come out of the shelter seemed friendly enough, and she heard no traces of whatever had seemed to cause him alarm. Eryn wondered about that, but he did not seem threatening, despite her initial fright. She felt certain that her father would surely not be friends with anyone who would have any thoughts of harming his daughter. Though she still felt a tiny, lingering concern about that owl call, and whether it might mean something more, she laughed faintly at being called a sentry to the campsite. "If I were guarding his camp, I would've brought Hattie along." She grinned, and wondered if he knew who Hattie was. Eryn was rather curious to actually get a look at this mysterious friend of her father's, and decided she would come out and talk with him. Perhaps she could finally glean a few clues to this big mystery! After waiting for him to move away from the opening, Eryn shifted her own position onto her hands and knees, her bow still held in one hand, the arrow held casually in the other as she poked her head out of the stick shelter. Briefly, she glanced in the direction from which the owl call had come, wondering if it was a real owl or.. not.

Upon exiting and standing to her full height, Eryn transferred the arrow into the same hand as the bow as she brushed a few leaves off of her skirt. After fixing her blanket about her shoulders, she glanced over to find that the visitor had found a seat on the log. The log he must have put there, she realized, since she knew her dad couldn't have done it. "I didn't intend to spend the entire night out here," She offered up an explanation as she moved to follow him, curious whether she might be able to make out his features now that there was some moonlight to see by. "I only came out to sit for a little while, and think." Shrugging slightly, the girl glanced at the cold campfire ring, and sighed. "But it feels so empty and lonely... it reminds me of when he goes off on missions and is gone for ages. " She paused, then added, "I miss him. I know he's only gone for the night, and I know he isn't far away, and I know it's silly.. but I miss him anyway. And.. I guess I feel a little guilty, because it's my fault he's.. there.. tonight." She admitted, sighing softly, her eyes downcast for a moment.

She was then a little surprised to hear the stranger declare that her dad would not have told her about him. How would he know that? Her dad didn't keep things from her. Not things like this. Ranger secrets, sure, but surely not... but wait. She remembered how closed-mouthed he had been when it came to this mysterious friend, how he refused to answer anything about it or even admit that there was anyone coming to visit. A tiny frown of curiosity tugged the corners of Eryn's mouth, listening, and then cleared away with understanding as that friend explained about how he had made her dad promise. "Aha!" A bigger smile lit up her face now as this final puzzle piece clicked into place at last. "So that's why he never would tell me how things got done, or where stuff came from... or even admit that he had a visitor." Eryn laughed lightly, feeling a bit relieved now as it all began to make more sense. And yet, at the same time, not so much sense at all, she realized. "But why?" She wondered, moving a little closer. "What's the big secret?"

Taking a seat at the other end of the log, Eryn watched the stranger with curiosity, as well as some eagerness to finally get a few questions answered. Maybe. Hopefully. "I know that you've come often to visit him at night, to talk I suppose, or help him with things like this log," She nodded down at the thing on which they were both sitting, revealing how much of their 'secret visits' she was actually aware of already. "And you must be the one who loaned him that bow. And.. I think he must know you very well, or at least.. he trusts you quite a bit." She added thoughtfully, recalling the snatches of conversation she had overheard, and how the conversation had been of a sort of private nature, with her dad apparently speaking of things he wouldn't say to just anyone. The sort she hadn't been meant to overhear, she remembered with a little awkwardness.

Tilting her head slightly, Eryn brought her hazel gaze back to the stranger, regarding him thoughtfully. "Wait.. you knew he would be gone tonight." She observed further, recalling what he had said about having thought Duinion would be leaving it empty. "And yet, you're here." She frowned, trying to make sense of this. "If you knew he wouldn't be here tonight, then why did you come?" She could think of no reason for it, unless... "Did he ask you to come and check on us?" She wondered, with a faint laugh, resting her bow across her lap, comfortably. "There isn't anything around here that really needs guarding. Except the cows, but they're always in the barn at night, so he couldn't be worried about them..." She supposed, with a little shrug. Yet he must have some reason for being here. "We have nothing else that would be worth stealing, so you surely aren't here to guard against thieves," This matter seemed almost as mysterious as the stranger. "Why did you come then?" It occurred to her that she'd rather not keep thinking of him as 'the stranger' or 'the mysterious friend', and hoped she might be able to have a name to attach to his being. "And also... who are you?"

[Ercassie]

Gwandhyra Harion – A Surprise Visitor
at Daisy Dairy Farm, Pelennor Fields. During Duinion’s first overnight stay in the Barracks.
Meeting Erynneth - @Rillewen

“If you had brought Hattie along, you would likely have had to guard the camp .. from her !” Gwandhyra supposed, with amusement, even as Eryn found her way out to join him in front of the lifeless fire. Planting his knife into the log beside him, the Man slowly lowered his hood with both hands, and then, dropping each hand to a knee, he tilted his head to get a better look at Duinion’s daughter. She must look more like her mother, he concluded, not quite sure what he had been expecting. She talked a lot too. She was probably used to carrying most of the conversation, because he knew his friend often had to be encouraged to partake in chatter.

As Eryn spoke then of how much, and how often, she missed their mutual acquaintance, her guest smiled some small semblance of sorrow behind his dark beard. It could just as easily have been his own daughter sitting beside him, the sentiment was that familiar. He took a moment before turning to face her and the latest ‘Ahah !’ that the young woman emitted.


“You mean, you have not worked it all out yet by yourself ?” Gwandhyra laughed, as he was beset with demands for explanations. He toyed with the bone handle of his serrated blade, while Eryn outlined what she did in fact already know. And when the point of the metal had bored so much larger a hole in the log, that it fell from it’s place onto the ground before him, the man poised to retrieve it. Just as Eryn got back to what she still wished to learn from him.

“I guess I came out for a little while to sit and think here myself,” he shrugged, raising and then releasing the knife with a dull thump into the earth. The knife was retrieved and released with the sort of idle ease which suggested a good many hours had been spent in handling deadly tools in such a fashion over the years. “A good many wise words he has delivered to me here when I’ve come calling lately. So here I am .. reflecting .. thinking it all over .. Your father has been helping me with something, truth be told. Maybe you can too ?”


It was no accident that he had apparently ignored her notions of there being something out here for him to come all this way to guard, in her father’s absence. The answer was of course the secret. Or an immense part of it. So that he was not ready to share that. “You may call me Gwandhyra” he confessed, watching the young woman very carefully for some indication that she'd overheard her father call him by some other name .. “I came south, initially to report of how things are going in the Northern kingdom, to the King .. that's your King and mine both now I suppose. I have lingered some time longer since, for the sake of family.” It occurred to him belatedly that referring to Duinion as ‘family’, for all that it was true in his heart, might venture far too close to a history his daughter might be aware of. So he took a rather less travelled avenue of the truth. and glanced up, as he uttered “For my daughter.”

It was not an outright lie.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Erynneth Raedor
Daisy Dairy Farm - Pelennor
(During Duinion's first night in the barracks)

Eryn laughed lightly. "Indeed... so you know Hattie then." She smiled, pleased to hear this. If he had met Hattie, and Hattie approved of him, then he must be alright. She looked back at him curiously as she studied the stranger who was, apparently, a friend of her father's. It was curious, that he knew about Eryn and Hattie, and her father apparently knew him well, and yet she had no idea who he was. She slowly shook her head with a small smile as he wondered at the fact that she hadn't put it all together yet. "It is a relief to know why though." She answered. "I was quite baffled why he wouldn't speak about his visitor at all. To be honest, I even wondered if he was in some sort of trouble, for a while. I thought, perhaps, someone was trying to cause trouble for him, trying to threaten him or something of that sort... but then I thought, no way. No enemy would do stuff to help him while he's injured, and besides, injured or not, I don't think he'd permit anyone like that to keep coming around here." She declared. "So, I disregarded my ideas of setting out traps to catch this mysterious person." Eryn then admitted, with a slight grin. "Though I certainly did consider it at one point."

Toying lightly with the feathers on her singular arrow, she listened as he spoke about his reasons for coming out here tonight. She couldn't help thinking back about that conversation she had overheard, quite by accident. Judging from the snatches of her dad's side of it, it seemed like the other way around, that he had been asking advice from his friend. But she didn't comment, since that would mean admitting she had been listening. Her surprise was quite noticeable, soon after, when the man suggested the idea that she might be able to help him with something. "Me? What could I help you with?" She wondered, baffled by such an idea. She couldn't imagine what she might be able to assist him with, but she got sidetracked soon after as he revealed the name. It was a relief to finally have a name to call the visitor at last. Eryn tilted her head in curiosity. "Gwandhyra," She repeated thoughtfully, as if she might have heard it before. She was sure that she had. But where had she heard that name? Looking down thoughtfully, Eryn fell silent for a moment as she sought to remember. Then, her gaze landed on the bow in her hands. That reminded her of the other, and suddenly it popped into her mind. She looked up again and smiled. "Ah.. Then you are the one who loaned him the bow." She declared, without any uncertainty. Earlier, it had been a guess, but now she had no doubts. "And you're a ranger of the North, the same one who fought alongside my father for a little while, during the battle and everything?" She tried to recall something of the tale she'd heard, but it was a little fuzzy in her memory. "He did tell me something about that, and he mentioned that it was he who loaned him the bow," She added, explaining her reasoning.

The North part was confirmed when he mentioned having come South. But, for his family? Eryn wondered about that. "Your daughter? Does she live here then, in the city?" She inquired. She couldn't help being curious. "I don't suppose I'd know her. But it's nice you're staying nearby for her." She smiled at the sentiment and thought for a moment. "Sometimes I wonder if Dad would rather go off in the North for a while, but he won't venture too far away from me, or for longer than he must. And I'm sure he wouldn't let me come along." She added with a sigh and a slight roll of her hazel eyes. "Anyway... I can definitely try to help with whatever it is, but I should warn you, I um, seem to have a way of getting people in trouble lately when I try to do things to help. Or, well. Some of them, anyway." She added with a light blush, but it was accompanied by a tiny giggle. "It could just be Nal, I suppose. He seems to have a talent at getting into mischief fairly often." She grinned in amusement, recalling how he just kept talking and saying the worst possible things earlier in the barracks.

[Ercassie]

Gwandhyra Harion – A Surprise Visitor
at Daisy Dairy Farm, Pelennor Fields. During Duinion’s first overnight stay in the Barracks.
Meeting Erynneth - @Rillewen

Ah yes, indeed the Ranger/stranger did know Hattie. And how ! Duinion had gotten about halfway through his warning about the dog being about, before she had bowled Gwandhyra over and proceeded to drool over the prize she proudly stood upon. Like a triumphant conqueror. He had panicked for a moment, from his experience with wolves and .. jackals .. but the farm dog, as she had since settled into being, was a far less perilous foe. They still laughed about that, every time the dog trotted over, now that she was happy with the stranger's scent.

Recognising moments later that it was entirely his fault that his friend had been keeping secrets from his beloved child, the man held both hands aloft to acknowledge his blame. He was fortunate that it was not only dark, but his hands were also caked in mud, as per the trek to get here. Otherwise, out here as they both sat, no longer drowned in shadows of the shelter, that scar upon his one palm would have surely caught the young woman’s eye. Being as identical to that one of her father’s as they could have made so, many years ago.

As Eryn mentioned how close she had come to setting traps to ‘catch’ her father’s visitor, Gwandhyra laid both of his hands flat on the log, one at either side of him, and rocked forward some in a small carry of silent laughter. “That wasn’t how your father got injured then ?” he teased, unable to resist. “Shame .. that means I will have to concede to his ‘fighting off a mountain troll’ tale. And theres few enough stories that can compete with that one !” Though the man shook his head, it was evident that he was actually impressed by Duinion’s account of things.


“I am,” he agreed, about her deduction over the loaned bow. And he realised then, that was as much as Dui had told her. For it was true that they two men had met, briefly upon the battle field. They had not though realised at that point, who each other were. Fighting mostly back to back at the time. And of course the long count of years, between the 'before' and 'after', had altered them both. It had not changed the great sword, ‘Reaper’, however. Which was how Warder, serving with Imrahil’s contingent on that occasion, had later managed to notice his estranged cousin, seeing him from a more advantageous angle during that same fight. The squire had later set out to track down the Ranger of the North after all was done and dusted in the South. No doubt expecting to become acquainted with the Arnorian branch of their family tree. Instead the Belfalasian had found Gwandhyra along with his Northern kin in Bree. The fact of both the family’s twin swords being there at once had quite given the game away. Of course, it was currently only his remaining all the way in Lond Col, that had kept Warder from since telling Unalmis and Addhor everything. That man really did not know how to lie, even if his life had depended upon it. That he and 'Gwandhyra' shared both blood and a mutual inheritance was no doubt some joke that the Valar likely laughed over in their Blessed lands afar. But it did seem to fall that those members of the family who were of one temperament, seemed to equal out those who were the polar opposite.


Eryn was asking about the Man’s daughter, when the Ranger remembered that he was in mid conversation here. Thankfully her existence was true, and not a lie of the moment. So there came no guilt nor hesitation in illuminating a little. It was something of a relief to be able to speak so freely, even about a detour from his great ‘situation’. Gwandhyra knew after all, that this was absolutely Duinion’s daughter, for he had seen her enough times, come to speak with her father in this very camp. And since Eryn was clearly not going to be fobbed off without an explanation or some secret duly revealed, this one would suffice to satisfy them both for tonight at least.

“She moved here,” he let Eryn know. “I suppose that I got a little carried away in telling her how splendid it was to see the White City in the South. Only decided to come and see it for herself, she did, when I would not bring her.” he sighed. “She’s not much different in age than yourself, I would imagine,” he mentioned, glancing sidelong at the young woman. As though he suspected full well that she was capable of doing just that same sort of thing. “Now she wants to stay here and .. I do not know. Daughters are not easy. I need to make sure she will be alright here, if she really won't come back with me. Of course your father reckons I should stay here with her and be done with it.” Gwandhyra sighed his shaggy head deep where he sat, and then glanced up moments later, hearing the girl utter a mention of his nephew.

Don't do it, he told himself, tensing at his hands slightly. Don't ask. Not now. Not like this .. she isn't ready for all that. This is not her problem ..


“I wouldn't mind at all to take your father North, show him the new extents of this united kingdom that we're all trying to put together," it was not the first time such a thought had entered the man's head. "He'd certain come back here again, home, for you of course, after. Unless we all go together one day. Make a trip of it." Gwandhyra shook off his hands, and picked up the knife again, placing the point against the tip of one finger, thoughtfully. "Keep each other out of trouble .. or well, maybe get into it, the all of us." When he glanced at Eryn next, with warm brown eyes, the smile was sincere. Secrets aside.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Erynneth Raedor
Daisy Dairy Farm - Pelennor
(During Duinion's first night in the barracks)

Seeing she had gotten him laughing about the mention of traps, Eryn grinned. "I'm serious!" She protested, unsure whether he thought such a thing was laughable, or if he was only amused at the thought of it. "I mean, I haven't his skill of course, I've only barely learned much. But my dad's friend, Addhor, loaned me this book about setting traps, and I've been trying to learn.. and I really did consider it." She insisted, and wasn't sure whether to be amused or the opposite, when he suggested she might have been the cause for his injury. Though she relaxed some as he went on to speak as though impressed by the mountain troll tale. She nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, that must have been terribly frightening," She mentioned quietly, somewhat less amused. "I'm just.. very glad he survived to tell the tale." She thought of the little adventure she'd had, nearly simultaneously, with Kaylin, and how that might have turned out badly for them both, and briefly let her thoughts stray toward pondering the fact that both she and her dad might not have returned from their respective adventures.

Pulling out of her reflective thinking, Eryn tilted her head in curiosity as he spoke of his daughter having moved here, after hearing tales about how wonderful the White City was. Not too far off in age from herself? She was somewhat curious about that, and briefly considered asking whether she might know her, but she doubted it, unless she was on our delivery route. Eryn took a moment, trying to think if she knew anyone who'd recently been added to that route, but she also had stopped doing the deliveries as often. She got distracted from those thoughts at Gwandhyra's next statement. "Why do you say daughters aren't easy?" She asked with a slight laugh. "I think maybe you father types are just too overprotective," She declared in a lightly teasing tone. "My father seems to think I'll cut myself to pieces if I so much as handle a butter knife," She added with an eyeroll.

Next moment, she was blinking in surprise at the suggestion, whether serious or not, that he might take Duinion off to the North. And maybe all of them go? "All of us? Me too?" She asked, her eyes growing wider as she leaned forward with interest. "I'm not sure he would agree to letting me come, but.. it sounds so exciting! I've only ever been as far as Rohan. And, well, Lossarnach, but that was... different." She shrugged, not quite counting the whole 'evacuating during the impending siege of the gathering dark forces' thing. Remembering he had yet to state what it was exactly he wanted her help with, Eryn smiled slightly as she thought of an idea. "You suggested that I might help you with something," She reminded him thoughtfully. "I wonder, though, if perhaps you might help me with something, in return?" She suggested with a hopeful note to her voice, wondering if he might be willing to try influencing him in favor of her goals.

[Ercassie]

Gwandhyra Harion – A Surprise Visitor
at Daisy Dairy Farm, Pelennor Fields. During Duinion’s first overnight stay in the Barracks.
Meeting Erynneth - @Rillewen

It took every ounce of will power for Gwandhyra to not roll his eyes at the news; that Addhor had handed the girl a book, rather than show her how to do something himself. “Well, it is in your blood, is it not ?” he asked Eryn with a shrug, as though it was obvious. “That trapping prowess is why they named your father 'Raedor' in the first place, or so I heard.”

The girl’s evolution from laughter to sober in some seconds, made him regret mention of the troll thing. Daughters .. ah dear. “That’s the thing, though,” clearing his throat, the Man tried to soften the blow he had already struck. “No matter what your father is up against, you know he’ll find his way through it. Because he has you waiting for him back at home. Now that’s incentive.” Perhaps the notion would have more of an impact on Duinion’s daughter than it had had on his own, who had more or less made a rude noise and turned her back on him with a disgruntled swish of long hair.


“Given our .. first impressions this evening,” the Ranger raised an eyebrow, almost amused, as he recalled now, “Your ‘overprotective’ father probably has cause to think you’re handling sharper things than butter knives, doesn’t he now ?” As though he was not supposed to be handling his own knife, Gwandhyra flung it back into the ground, a mere few inches away from one boot. “My girl is less of a warrior, and more of a .. worrier,” he shook his head, after enunciating the two similar words, so that his audience could differentiate between them. “She reads more than she wants to range about. I would not be surprised if she came all this way mostly to see the Great library actually.” A library which he had scarcely set foot in himself, even when he had been living and growing up in this very city, the man realised in the aftermath.


As Eryn seemed set on proposing something, moments after her glee became evident with talk of travel north, Gwandhyra stretched his hands out, one to each side of him on the log again.

“Go on then,” he shrugged easily. “Tell me what you want from me, and I’ll tell what I’d ask of you in return. Maybe we can work something out. That your father will not murder the both of us for when he finds out.” He laughed, but slapped his hands together again, almost eagerly. And prepared to listen, curious.

[Rillewen]

@Ercassie

Erynneth Raedor
Daisy Dairy Farm - Pelennor
(During Duinion's first night in the barracks)

"That trapping prowess is why they named your father 'Raedor' in the first place, or so I heard."

Eryn gave a brief laugh. "Yes, so it is. And yet, he had to begin somewhere. He wasn't born knowing how do that stuff. Someone taught him how to do it. But I have been begging him to teach me things like that for ages. And I finally got him to agree to teach me about traps... except now he's hurt his foot and can't really get around to show me anything. Just my luck." She huffed a sigh of frustration, and merely shrugged slightly in answer to Gwandhyra's comment about her dad finding his way back. Yes. She'd heard things like that her whole life. She also knew there were risks to the job and that it wasn't always a guarantee that each ranger would return home safely. It was the very same argument he used to try and convince her against becoming a ranger, and yet.. he didn't seem to catch the irony of it.

Yet, despite her frustrated mood, Eryn couldn't help a little laugh as Gwandhyra remarked on her handling things sharper than a butter knife. She glanced down at the arrow she still held, and at the sharp tip that was bound onto the end. "Archery's different, somehow." She shrugged. "He taught me how to shoot when I was about ten, but I guess he figured it was a good idea at the time. He probably regrets it now that he knows what may come of it." She gave a wry smile, then, at the play on words between warrior and worrier. "Well," She replied, "When it comes to me, my father is the biggest worrier you've ever seen." She rolled her eyes, and recalled that this man was also a father, of a daughter around her age. "I'm sure you'll take his side on that, but... urgh." She concluded with a frustrated sound that expressed how annoying it all was to her.

Yet, perhaps things were not completely hopeless, for it seemed the northern ranger was at least willing to hear her proposition. Eryn sat up slightly straighter and smiled as he asked her to tell what she would like help with. "Well," She smiled. "See.. I'm going to be a ranger," She declared. There was no 'maybe' or 'hopefully' about it. It was a fact. "The only problem is," She went on, frowning, "my father is rather against the idea, and he doesn't want me to enlist for another two years at least!" She rolled her eyes. "It's absurd, really. I mean, did you know he was only fourteen when he first joined? Don't tell anyone, of course.. but he actually lied about his age to get in two years earlier... and yet he thinks I should have to wait til I'm eighteen!" A huff of annoyance followed, before she continued on toward getting to the actual request, "Anyway. He doesn't want to teach me anything that I'd be learning once I actually enlist, like fighting and stuff like that. I guess he figures the longer I'm in training, the longer I'll be kept out of dangerous stuff, but.. well, perhaps if someone could sort of.. talk to him and make him see how it would be a better idea if I know how to fight really well before I'm ready to actually join..." She trailed off with a hopeful look at the man before her. "I mean, the better one is at fighting, the better their chances of surviving battles, right?"

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
The Pelennor
August
@Rillewen @Romeran

She'd strapped her hand-and-a-half sword to Nársulë and distributed the rest of her gear and supplies with an ease that came from having done so many times before. She'd showed them how to adjust the bow on their back so the tips were pointing more sideways and would definitely stay clear of their horses and saddlebags. They'd mounted and moved out of the Ranger stables.

The Lieutenant had laughed quietly at Romeran's question. With a shake of her head she'd told him; "If you're thinking about whether or not you will need to take any food for Daisy, I commend the question, Romeran. You should always think about that," she stressed. "However, there will be plenty of grass and other roughage for the horses to eat." She'd flashed him a grin as she passed him by. "No reason to worry."

Arnyn wore a smile on her face all the way through the city. She was looking forward to this. The gates hardly slowed them down. First off, they were leaving, not entering - which meant the guards were already less scrutinous, but most of them knew Arnyn's face besides.

When they reached the Great Gate and their horses stepped onto the road of the Pelennor, Arnyn looked at the trainee and recruit with some amusement. "North-way," she indicated, before cueing her stallion into a light trot. "Keep up, sirs!"

The Lieutenant first spent their time within the Rammas to switch from one gait to the other. From walk, to trot, to canter, to gallop, back to trot - to get a sense of whether Romeran and Trastion knew how to switch between gaits - and whether they could easily confer their wishes to the horses they were currently riding. And her expression made it no secret she was enjoying herself.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Romeran

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Riding adventure - August

As they left the city, Trastion took in a deep breath, enjoying the bright sunshine and clear weather. Once he got all of his gear situated, he was pleased to see that the bow did not actually get in the way after all. He kept silent while they rode down through the levels, and once they were past the gates, it was Romeran who had broken the silence with his question. The adventure was beginning already!

He grinned when she finally told them to head northward and said to keep up. That was as much of a clue as they would get, apparently. They started at a brisk walk, but soon Arnyn went into a trot. Trastion smiled faintly, reminded of his childhood when he was learning to ride. With a light squeeze to Lightning's sides, he shifted into a trot, sitting it rather than posting the trot. Sitting up tall and straight, he kept his shoulders squared, while his core, hips, and thighs remained loose so he could follow the horse’s movements, and remained well synced with the horse's gait. Thanks to his upbringing and his mother's expectations, Trastion had learned how to sit through a trot well enough to make it look easy. He was glad that he had spent some time getting familiar with Lightning before now, too, so that he was fairly familiar with the horse's abilities.

Next, the lieutenant shifted into a canter. Trastion suspected that she was probably testing their riding skills. He remembered being told that a trot was one of the trickier gaits to learn. And transitioning from a trot to a canter was also one that beginners found tricky, he recalled, going from a two-beat gait to a three-beat one. But he was not a beginner, and he hid a small smile as he prepared for the transition; first shifting his weight back in the saddle, he half-halted to prepare for the transition. As the horse’s body rocked from the leading foreleg back onto the haunches, Trastion signaled him into a canter. The horse's outside hind leg struck off into the lead, and Trastion kept his back relaxed and moved his hips with the rhythm of the canter, so it appeared he was hardly moving at all.

Before long, the lieutenant had moved into a gallop, one of the hardest to control while riding, according to those who taught Trastion to ride. But regardless, that was his favorite gait; he always enjoyed the speed. He grinned and leaned forward in the saddle, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet to lighten his seat as he applied a little pressure with his legs to urge the horse to increase the speed of his gait. Holding the reins 'bridged' across the back of Lightning's neck, Trastion lightly gripped the horse's mane to aid in balance, though most of his weight remained centered in his pelvis. As Lightning moved into a gallop, Trastion used his knees to support him as he shifted his weight forward so that he held his rear suspended slightly above the seat of the saddle, while keeping his back straight rather than rounded. His legs and arms absorbed the impact of the gallop. Lightning had little trouble keeping up with Nársulë.

Before long, Arnyn had dropped back into a trot, and Trastion was slightly disappointed, but sank back in his seat and squeezed gently with his thighs to signal the horse to slow down. Soon he and Lightning had moved, apparently seamlessly, into a trot again. Once he was back to the slower gait, Trastion risked a glance toward Rome to see if he and Daisy were faring as well, slightly wondering if Rome had ever had any riding lessons on his farm. "This is great!" he called with a grin, enjoying this whole adventure so far. Not that they'd gone very far, yet, but still. It was going to be great fun!

[Romeran]

Ranger Trainee Romeran
The Pelennor
August
@Arnyn @Rillewen

Leaving the city was a surprising relief for Romeran and he sighed in audibly as they crossed the final gate. Romeran had hoped that his recent sojourn would have served to engender positive feelings of the city in his mind. But it had the opposite effect, reminding him of how uncomfortable he felt inside the city walls and how much he preferred being outside.

“North” he said in response and smiled widely. Romeran had not ventured much north of the city and he was excited to do so now. The Lieutenant promptly took off and ordered them to keep up. Trastion was quicker to respond than Romeran who found himself immediately slightly behind. Romeran commanded Daisy into a trot with his legs and resisted the urge to try and catch up with Arnyn and Trastion who were not too far ahead. Daisy trotted comfortably even with the large ranger trainee on her back and the rhythmic tap-tap sound beat the earth.

As the Lieutenant moved into a canter, Romeran was much quicker to follow, not wanting fall yet further behind. Another squeeze of the legs and shift in weight and Daisy’s double tap turned into a triplet and they picked up in pace. Romeran was comfortable on a horse and he did not appear to have much trouble handling himself thus far. As he looked ahead at Trastion he noted that the youth appeared even more comfortable than him, trained even. His posture was measured and practiced. Romeran’s by contrast appeared more haphazard, as if learned by imitation and adaption rather than instruction. And so it was with Romeran who had used horses extensively on the large farm that he grew up on but had no specific training in riding having been expected to simply keep up. He would receive occasional advice from the more empathetic farm-hands or his frustrated uncle when Romeran would fail to do as instructed, but that was it.

As they pulled into a gallop the differences between the two junior rangers became more evident. Romeran was able to keep up, in fact he used this opportunity to catch up to the other two, Trastion being limited by the Lieutenant and the Lieutenant merely testing the two junior rangers. Despite this, it was obvious that where Trastion’s posture was measured and gave him a balanced elegance during the gallop, Romeran muscled through it. He held himself straight and forward and off the horse, holding the reigns similarly to Trastion, having seen the other riders do the same. But it was only Romeran’s powerful leg and core muscles that kept him in this position rather than an appropriate placement of weight and posture.

It was with only a mild sense of relief that’s Romeran pulled Daisy to a canter and then a trot and caught up with Trastion and the Lieutenant. He smiled as wide as he could manage and looked over to Trastion “it is great to be out and riding” he said truthfully. What he hadn’t said was how much more effort he realized it had taken him to hold Daisy at a gallop than Trastion had with Lightning. It has always seemed much more work than it looked for some and Romeran hardly knew why. Few tasks on the farm involved galloping horses and so it hasn’t come up often enough for him to figure it out himself.

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
The Pelennor
August
@Rillewen @Romeran

The two seemed to be enjoying the outing so far. Arnyn was pleased that the two young men knew how to handle the horses and make them switch gaits. From what little she had been able to witness, Trastion appeared well trained when it came to riding - which, of course, was no surprise. Romeran...

"Halt! Assignment!" she announced merrily. When the two others stopped their horses, she had them line up right next to each other. The Lieutenant gazed out ahead, found a suitable landmark and looked back to Romeran and Trastion. "See that farm on the left side of the road; about a mile from here?" she asked them.

"Time for a race." She moved Nársulë (and thus, herself) out of their way. The race would allow her to take a more detailed look at how Romeran was handling himself on Daisy. While it had been obvious that the young man could ride, it had also been obvious his technique could use some finetuning. But in order for her to see what they needed to work on exactly, she needed a better look.

"Ready?" With a grin on her face, she raised her hand as she looked at the two youngsters. "Set!"

Arnyn's hand dropped. "Go!"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Romeran

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Riding adventure - August

As Arnyn declared it was time to stop, Trastion sat back and signaled to Lightning to slow, then stop. Wondering why she was having them stop, he moved his horse in line next to Romeran, quite intrigued to hear that they had an assignment. Already? He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, wondering what this could be. And then grinned when he heard that it was to be a race. A fun assignment! Looking down the Pelennor, he nodded in answer to Arnyn's inquiry about the farm. "Where is our finishing line?" He asked, figuring that might be good to figure out before they set off. Once they had an answer from the lieutenant, he nodded and prepared himself for the burst of speed when he would let Lightning take off.

Lightning seemed ready to go, eager to run more. Trastion had to hold him back until Arnyn gave the signal. As soon as she dropped her hand, Lightning took off at a little signal from Trastion, his strong hind legs launching him forward while his front legs stretched out, and they went from a standstill to a gallop rather swiftly. It might have alarmed someone who wasn't used to it and expecting it, but Trastion was not in that category. He leaned forward and raised his rear off the saddle, as he'd done when galloping before, so he was hovering in an almost crouch over the saddle, balancing with the reins bridged across the back of Lightning's neck. But this time, rather than how he had kept the gallop controlled so not to pass up the lieutenant, before... this time he let Lightning go as fast as he wanted and only focused on keeping him in the direction Trastion wanted to go.

He grinned as the wind blew his hair back, enjoying the speed and thrill of riding so fast. Lightning had clearly earned his name because he enjoyed going fast, as Trastion had discovered shortly after becoming acquainted with the horse. The distant farm drew swiftly nearer, and he wondered how Rome was doing but didn't risk a glance over at him, unwilling to cause any distractions to his horse that might come from him turning his head. A little too soon, the designated 'finishing line' was approaching. He was almost disappointed when he and Lightning passed the spot. He sank back into the saddle and squeezed the horse's sides lightly, pushing his heels down to signal a stop. Lightning seemed a tiny bit reluctant, but he slowed, then came to a stop. He was energetic though, even a bit playful and wanted to go over and greet Daisy, but Trastion didn't let him. He laughed lightly and patted the horse's neck lightly. "Calm down, Lightning. You horses can chat later."

[Romeran]

Ranger Trainee Romeran
The Pelennor
August
@Arnyn @Rillewen

The word 'assignment' made Romeran's heart leap up his throat again. Another chance to make a fool of himself he thought and held in a groan. It was going to be a race. Romeran and Daisy were practically doomed from the start. Even if Romeran had been every bit the rider that Trastion was, or even a stronger rider, weight was simply against them. Romeran was an incredibly large man and Daisy, as a consequence, was a very large mare. While both could exert a considerable amount of force, they would struggle sorely to keep up with Trastion and Lightning even on the best of days and with a rider of far greater skill than Romeran. There was solace in knowing that there was nothing to win or lose in the race, at least that had been advertised.

As soon as the lieutenant gave the command to go, Trastion and Lightning took off immediately ahead of them. Romeran, not missing a beat, had called Daisy into a gallop, but the two of them had simply not been as quick off the start as Trastion and Lightning. To her great credit, however, Daisy went from a near halt to a gallop in an impressive display of acceleration given that Romeran weighed in excess of three-hundred pounds not including the gear and equipment that Daisy carried. Romeran was far less comfortable in the gallop than Daisy was and certainly Trastion and Lightning. Romeran stat deeply in the saddle and had forgone the more clever tactic of bridging the reigns -- although he did not know that was what it was called -- and instead held them in each hand.

Gripping Daisy too hard had caused the horse to pull herself into an even harder gallop and Romeran, who had been leaning too far forward in an attempt to remain balanced, had been punished. His weight being so far forward had forced him to exert too much pressure with his legs in order to remain balanced, this forced Daisy into a harder gallop. The change in acceleration pushed Romeran backwards and he nearly lost his balance if it wasn't for his core strength pushing himself back into an awkwardly forward position, pulling back on the reigns in an attempt to correct his previous mistake. This continued back-and-forth caused Romeran to exert a great deal more effort and strength to remain in the gallop and over the course of a longer distance, in addition to the danger of being off balance, would be unsustainable both for himself and for Daisy.

Luckily the end of the race had only been a mile and in less than a few minutes Tristan and Lightning had already pulled up to the finish line. Several seconds later, Romeran and Daisy arrived and Romeran gladly called Daisy to a halt, breathing heavily. He looked over to Tristan and pulled the best smile that he could manage between breaths. Tristan didn't even look like he was bothered in the slightest, he was even laughing. Romeran couldn't help but like the other recruit, they were of a similar age and were both new rangers, but he also couldn't help but feel envious of the other recruit. He did his best to smile and instead patted and stroked her mane, thanking her for at least making him look not completely incompetent.

[Ercassie]

Gwandhyra Harion – A Surprise Visitor
at Daisy Dairy Farm, Pelennor Fields. On Duinion’s first overnight stay in the Barracks.
Encountering Erynneth @Rillewen

Her father was not born knowing how to do ‘that stuff’ .. She said. He knew it. And might have rolled into such a well known monologue about how it all came from their ancestors, that passing down that knowledge of how to survive in the woods was as much their inheritance as were the woods themselves. But Eryn knew Addhor, and that subject was a well-known favourite of the former Ranger. His brother did not dare allow another clue for this intelligent young woman to link the man before her with the one he’d left behind. Besides which, he was not his brother. He simply could not tell this girl quite exactly who he truthfully was.

“What may come of it ..” he repeated though, a little more darker of thought than he wished. And so he did not take it any further. Because you did not tell a daughter that her father was probably preparing her for the day he would not be there to protect her, feed her, teach her. This particular daughter might even bemoan that Duinion was not doing a fast enough job of it ! A father he was. And so he understood. In a way that no one can, until they do. Until they too, are. “I’d say he worries just enough,” Gwandhyra supposed, as a compromise. Though he was not doing especially well at hiding his amusement when Eryn bemoaned her doting, worrying parent. How her own father had wished for such a father when he was her age.


The Ranger sat back on his seat then when the young woman declared, unashamedly, that she was going to become a Ranger. “Really ?” he remarked, blinking with deliberate effect when Eryn mentioned how young her father had been when he enlisted. It would be too much of an ask to feign ignorance of quite who had helped to encourage Duinion into trying such a foolish thing. So he did not raise that subject. Gwandhyra was perilously too close to enjoying himself and the notion did occur to him that Eryn would think he was laughing at her. Which he was trying very hard not to. She looked so sincere and sure of herself, . and more like her father than she had so far this evening. He smiled behind his beard.

“Your father says you must wait ? My mother just said no. Full stop. No chance,” he admitted .. only as much as he was able to without coming to a tale she might have heard from Duinion or Addhor for that matter. He could not fall into the account of why exactly his mother had felt that way, nor the conditions she had outlined. Nor even how he had found a clause in the unwritten contract. A clause he had wished after the fact had not been so. It seemed that he was not at all the first person she had approached about learning to be a Ranger. Like as not any of the others may have already told her all of that tale.


“Perhaps it’s him that needs the two years yet to get used to the idea. Rather than you needing to take that time to become ready.” The Man's shrug he developed into a wide stretch of yawn with both arms extended. They travelled in an arc behind him before he was done. And she was still sat there, expectant.

“It is not all about surviving battles you know,” he relented. Some way at least. “The difference between learning from your father and learning only after you enlist .. it is the company, as much as anything else. A Ranger in Gondor is not the same as a Ranger in Arnor. Trust me, when I say I have gotten lonely at times .. out there. I once passed over a year without ever speaking to another soul. Not one. And trust me when I say it was not out of choice ! I talked to the birds .. the rabbits .. even my blade. But it is not the same."

Leaning forward again, Gwandhyra rested his forearms on his knees, as though the cold fire between them was alive and promised warmth. Perhaps it was the imparting of words, any father to any daughter, not even his own .. was more precious than warmth. He might have been running his lines, some rehearsal to test out theories before he faced his own daughter. He had hoped that Eryn might be of some help on that score after all.

"Here, you patrol in packs," he flicked his warm brown eyes up to behold the girl in a relentless gaze. "In Gondor. You roam in units. And the other trainees you enlist with .. you will bond with better if you are all learning together. You learn to be a team. When it comes down to trusting that somebody will have your back in a battle, there is nothing like it. I envy that. It has taken me more than a decade to find brothers in arms in the North. What you do not have, you can not lose. Right ?”

He shook his head, not to disagree with the sentiment which had kept him alive for more than a decade. But to concede to the necessity of it. Where he had been. A place he hoped Erynneth would never find herself.


“Perhaps your father has no worries about you managing to cope with the fighting. But rather he would wish you the happiness in being more than you can be alone. You can be the best fighter in the entire Ranger company .. and that will not guarantee you your survival. It might even make others envious and liable to leave you out of their collective. But that is what will keep you alive, girl. The group. The friendships. The comradery. Your father, I bet he’s told you the same tales he’s told me .. about his brothers in arms and all of that. Even a warrior can worry about missing out on that. It’s the reason that we fight in the first place. For each other."

Gwandhyra drew up in his seat to better hold a higher stance and narrowed his eyes at his hostess as though he could see through her skin, to her very soul. "If you do not know that ?" he shrugged, carelessly this time before concluding, in at least a half challenge. "Maybe you are not as ready as you think you are.”

[Arnyn]

Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
The Pelennor
August
@Rillewen @Romeran

Trastion and Lightning shot forward, with Romeran and Daisy soon behind them. Arnyn directed Narsulë to follow, not trying to gain ground on them but mostly gauging Romeran's riding style and checking once in a while on Trastion's - although it seemed there was little need for the latter.

When the race was over and she drew up near them, she enjoying seeing the twinkle in Trastion's eyes. "Well done, Lightning and Leithor!" the Lieutenant laughed, and she smiled when she looked at Romeran. "Neither Daisy nor yourself should be disappointed, Romeran. The race was lost before it began, I'm afraid. Narsulë and I would not chance a win against that duo, either. Every combination of horse and rider has their own strengths. When we need to send a swift message - we can rely on a duo such as Trastion and Lightning. When we have a need to fight on horseback where we are likely to get bogged down amidst the enemy - that's where pairings like Daisy and yourself, and Narsule and I, are the better choice. But you will forgive me for not summoning a small enemy army to prove my point?"

They continued at a walk for now. "I had the chance to observe you both during the race. I think Trastion could give you some key advice on posture and weight distribution, Romeran," the Lieutenant noted, her eyes on the road ahead rather than on the trainee and the recruit. She knew from experience that learning from your peers was just as valuable as learning from your ranking officers - or perhaps even more valuable. "So, your next assignment is as follows - and this time slightly different for each of you."

"We still have a ways to go until the Rammas." They were more or less halfway down the road to the North gate. "I will ride ahead, and wait for you by the gate. Trastion, your assignment is to tell and show Romeran the way you ride. Convince him of the advantages. Challenge yourself to instruct another - always respectfully, and patiently if need be!"

"Romeran. Your assignment is to heed Trastion's instructions and do your best to apply them on your way to the gate."

"You can take as long as you like to arrive at the gate. The time in which you complete these tasks, is not important. The results are. We can water the horses before passing through the gate. And then we will leave the Pelennor."

She paused, looking them over and waiting to see if they had any questions.

[Rillewen]

Erynneth Raedor
Daisy Dairy Farm - Pelennor
(During Duinion's first night in the barracks)

Eryn definitely had a lot to think about after her unexpected talk with the mysterious friend of her father’s. Gwandhyra. Though the encounter had started out a bit alarming, Eryn now felt comforted after having spoken with him. She was glad to know that he was indeed a friend to her father. And, having spoken with him herself now, she thought he seemed very nice. Funny too. In fact, something about him even felt a little familiar, although she couldn’t put her finger on why. But that wasn’t what she was thinking about.

It was his words, rather, that kept her awake for a long while after they had parted ways. All that talk about how lonely it could be in the North, and how training together was good for bonding and being a team, and all that stuff. She could see the sense in that, and indeed, her father had told her about many whom he had once been close with. All gone now, except for Addhor. And Narradir too, she recalled. She had met him recently. But who would even be training with her, when Eryn finally got to enlist? From stuff she’d seen, there weren’t really many people who joined up these days. She only knew of two people who were even training at the moment.. Rome and Trastion, and she liked them well enough, though she only vaguely knew either of them. The rest of those who were anywhere near her age were all already well-established rangers, like Nal. While she wanted to argue that all the people she wanted to train with were currently already there, in training, she hadn’t said it out loud. She’d kept quiet and listened. There was also the other thing he’d said, about her dad needing the time more than her. She had never really thought of that before, but now she couldn’t get it out of her head.

Of course, despite the serious turn to the conversation, Eryn hadn’t been able to resist a little joke, after the Northern Ranger said that his mother had told him ‘No’ to becoming a ranger. ‘Ah, but you ARE a ranger, now. So, you went against her rules. That’s what you’re telling me to do?’ she had replied with a straight face, just to see how the man would react. She’d quickly laughed and reassured him she was only teasing, and that her dad would have no reason to be angry with him.

And in fact, with how much he’d given her to think over, her father may just thank his friend someday. She had so much to consider, and an early day tomorrow. She closed her eyes, thinking about all that he’d said. As well as the matter he had asked her to aid him with. She hoped everything would work out for him. But, she remined herself, now was the time for sleep. She could think about all this stuff tomorrow. So, with that thought in mind, Eryn rolled over and wrapped an arm around Hattie who was curled up next to her, and let her mind drift off into dreams.

(end)

---

@Arnyn @Romeran

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Riding adventure - August

Seeing that Rome had been further behind than he expected, Trastion felt a bit bad for letting Lightning go full speed and getting so far ahead. But then, he thought perhaps it was better than if he had held back, and given Rome a false sense of almost winning, and if he had let him win that would only be worse. Meanwhile, Lightning seemed ready to prance around in triumph, clearly enjoying the knowledge he had won a race. Trastion rolled his eyes as he patted the horse's neck. "Settle down, don't be such a sore winner," He muttered, leaning forward to speak the words for Lightning's ears only.

Sitting back up, he guided Lightning toward Rome so that he came up alongside him with a smile. "It was a good race." He held out a hand to offer a handshake. As Arnyn rode up and congratulated them both, Trastion shrugged slightly and nodded down at his horse. "Lightning just likes going really fast," He explained, trying to downplay it a bit. He relaxed slightly as Arnyn told Rome not to be disappointed, and that she and her horse probably wouldn't have had a chance either. He didn't feel quite so bad about taking off, but then he wondered what she meant about them being better suited for a big battle on horseback. Did that mean she didn't think he would do as well? He tried not to get too caught up with the thought, and smiled as the lieutenant joked about not conjuring a small army of enemies to prove a point. He glanced briefly at Rome to see if maybe he would relax a bit at seeing that the lieutenant had a sense of humor.

Trastion blinked in surprise then as Arnyn unexpectedly gave him an assignment... to teach Rome more about riding. His mouth opened slightly as if to protest, but closed again. He had never taught anyone something like that before. Not even his sister, although he had been glad to read in her last letter that she had learned to ride since he left. Still, while he was a bit unsure how to go about this task, he would try to do his best. "Of course, lieutenant," He answered quietly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled one of his old instructors growing up who use to say that when you taught something to someone else, it helped you learn it that much better. Maybe it would be true.

He glanced over at Rome and smiled slightly, trying not to feel awkward about the idea of instructing him. He wasn't entirely sure how to begin. "Sooo... I didn't really see what you did or didn't do before," He mentioned a little hesitantly. Trastion had been mostly ahead of him, so he hadn't seen much of his riding skill. "Um, maybe we can just ride at a walk for a while and figure out what you could do better, or different.. or whatever?" He figured it would be better to find out what had prompted Arnyn to suggest that Trastion teach him this, so he could then help correct whatever it was he needed help with.

[Ercassie]

Domanol Raxëlilta /’Gwandhyra Harion’ – some time before Midsummer
at the big Oak Tree in the Pelennor Fields.
Come to meet with ‘Unalmis’ (actually Ademar)
in response to THIS POST and also THIS ONE - @Rillewen

The tree was memory, it was history. It was, against all odds, still standing after all that the Pelennor in which it stood, had been through, five years previous. They had that in common. And yet he was not a man returned in search of an old battle field. It had been so much more before ever it had come to that. And for the sake of this tree, in particular, this man, in particular, would have stood and razed all foes to the ground, been cast to an end himself in fact, rather than see that particular landmark obliterated.
It was history. It was memory. It was family.

It was fitting that this particular tree ought stand as witness now to a family reunion. It was due testament to the letter which Domanol had received, that it had been Unalmis who’d sent it. For who else but his kin, his family, would know that he would know .. which tree was meant by ‘the tree’. There was only one to them, as precious as the White Tree was to all Gondor. And far more accessible. It was a symbol. It was hope.

And so with hope leading the race, caution lagging somewhat behind even sentiment .. the Man who had come South truly came home. There was a young man already stood beneath the mighty boughs, facing though in the opposite direction. Could it be .. was it .. it must be .. his nephew ? And the Guard, the Ranger, the man who had faced, who had survived so many perils in the years since he had last properly come back to his kin .. he could have kicked himself for being so hesitant. Over his own family. His blood.

Quietly he approached, with each step taken still trying to convince him that he had not committed yet. He could walk past, steal a glance, without ever allowing the young man to realise who he was. Except that he must already know. Because he had found him already. He had summoned him. And how, when the elder had failed to come when it had counted, could he now refuse to comply. And at least explain. Or try to. He had half expected never to have the opportunity. Mostly because he had spent the last two months ignoring the opportunity.

One almost shaking hand found contact with the familiar gnarled bark, as though it would provide support. Dirtied fingers traced the scar of letters which had been carved into the vast trunk. His own were not amongst them, but still he wondered at the meaning, at the maker. Had it been a mark of love or hate which had seen some steel blade dig into the tree’s skin ? A want to have some part of some particular person outlast their own life ? Closing his eyes, the Gondorian pressed his palm entirely against the brand, as though it were a wound his love alone could heal. Or else dispel the lingering distraction and face what he had come for.

“We have seen a lot, you and I, have we not, since last we laid eyes upon one another ?”
He might as soon have been speaking to the tree than to the young man. Wind indeed stirred the branches aloft, as though in answer, and Domanol paused, within grasping distance of the stranger who was posing as his nephew. Neither of them knowing yet what might happen when Ademar turned around.

[Romeran]

Ranger Trainee Romeran
The Pelennor
August
@Arnyn @Rillewen

Romeran felt slightly comforted by the Lieutenant's comments, even though he still found her intimidating. He managed to smile weakly at her joke, trying to convey some sense of humor even though his nerves were still rattled from the race. "Yes, I don't think we need to summon any armies, small or not, Lieuteanant" he said, trying to respond as best he could. It was reassuring to hear her say that the race had been lost before it even began, and that there was no real expectation for Romeran to have won against such formidable opponents, not that he was confident he could have won even if the odds had been even. He glanced over at Trastion, recognizing that the other recruit was a much stronger rider, and felt grateful for the opportunity to learn from him.

Romeran nodded to Trastion in response to his suggestion that they ride at a walk for a bit. It seemed at least Trastion was unsure what Romeran had struggled with. He supposed Trastion hadn't been paying that much attention, likely concerned with his own riding and the watchful eyes of the Lieutenant. As they continued to ride, Romeran felt a sense of unease settle in his stomach. He had always felt comfortable on horseback, but he had never raced before. The gallop had been particularly uncomfortable for him, and he found himself struggling to stay in his seat as Daisy's powerful strides propelled them forward. His weight seemed to be constantly thrown back and forth, and he had to struggle to keep his balance. He found himself tugging on the reins and squeezing too tightly with his legs, which only made things worse. He had felt embarrassed and frustrated during the race, but now he felt a sense of vulnerability as he confessed his discomfort to Trastion.

"I have to admit," Romeran said, the silence between them, "I felt really uncomfortable during the gallop. It's like my weight just throws me around, and I can't seem to keep my balance. I found myself tugging on the reins and squeezing too tightly with my legs, which only made things worse. I don't know what I'm doing wrong." He looked over at Trastion, hoping for some guidance.

[Ercassie]

Carpe Diem – Part 20



Arkadhur / ”Lowendir” and Iole Ishen
At the abandoned Farmhourse, Pelennor Fields. The last day of Autumn (last year)
with Cali Dringolben @Rillewen
Cont. from THIS POST

There was no doubt that the young woman had seemed unsteady on her feet, but that might have been the effort of trying to get upright with her hands still bound behind her. Or simply from having risen up at all to stand. The wagon did not shift all too noticeably beneath them. Though the Umbarian did cast an eye toward the other ‘fainted’ girl, just in case she happened to make a move. If this was some ruse, and to be fair it was always safest (he had found) to expect that he was being lied to, then the slighter could be aiming to climb over and engage the horse, while the other kept him busy in the back. Most of all that was worrying him, was the chance that Cali might push the empty barrel in front of her, straight off the back of the wagon, as soon as her hands were free to do so. He did not particularly relish having to retrieve it, and likely her as well, and if Iole were feigning her second collapse of the day ..

Keeping up her swaying form, Cali claimed she was not feeling well. What did she think he cared ? Was he her mother ? Rolling his eyes, the Umbarian was beginning to think he ought just to lift her into the barrel himself, when the young woman proved she was rather less feeble than she would have him believe. Sadly he was granted little time to celebrate his suspicions being proven founded. Whipping round at a speed that almost made him dizzy, she drove his armed hand away from her, so that he was forced to swiftly tighten grip upon the dagger, lest he lose it from his grasp unto the grass below. The impetus of her right arm moving between them, toward his, meant that he was almost propelled into toppling forward, straight into her left hand which smacked into his face, at the base of her palm.

He would not have expected that it was him who would lose his balance, but he did, and the best that he could manage in the moment was to kick out at her legs as he fell backwards. She was still between him and the barrel, and he was lucky to not fall onto Iole who was still laid, her hands bound behind her, at the front of the wagon. Stirred to stem the flow of blood which was snaking out of his nose, Arkadhur contorted his stumble of limbs into as hasty a crouch as he could manage. The left hand he placed shakily onto the wagon to balance himself, the right hand, with the dagger, he nestled beneath Iole’s motionless chin. And glanced up to catch at Cali’s attention before she might try anything else.

“Blood for blood, Cali Dringolben,” he used her full name, manipulated the dagger in his hand, meaningfully. “I am going to count. And the number I reach before you’ve gotten in that barrel is the number of times I am going to cut ..”


EDIT - Clarification/injury detail.

[Ercassie]

Carpe Diem – Part 21



Unalmis Raxëlilta with Cadil. The last day of Autumn (last year)
Approaching Ademar at the Southern Gate
@Rillewen – last post HERE
@Pele Alarion – last post HERE

It began as ever it had done, with name calling. The type of gnawing annoyance designed to get under his skin. It was the one thing his mother had left him with to remember her, the name she had specifically chosen for her son. It had taken Aderic little to no time at all, to turn it into a cruel joke.

“Not nearly long enough,” Unalmis replied, with an exaggerated sigh. “I’d almost forgotten who you even .. ah. Halt for a minute there,” he tilted his head slightly askew, glanced the Guard Lieutenant up and down and then tested out “Rip ?” The insult seemed unsure, as though it needed planting more thoroughly. “That was your name wasn’t it ? I mean, I look at you .. and somehow .. it just seems familiar somehow. I can hear it in my head, ..” Nal glanced at Cadil beside him, as though to explain. Before repeating the onomatopoeia, as though he was further testing out the sound, perhaps the memory as his eyes found the rude Guard again. “Riiiiiiiip ..” He raised an eyebrow pointedly and ought to have known better. But old habits died hard. It was hard enough not to laugh at the very thought that he would just comply here, which was probably far more obvious than he could conceal.

By now, beside him, even Cadil had begun to grow indignant at the situation, understandably. But aware as he was of his friend, who had even set down his treasured backpack to properly retort back in their defence back at the bully, Unalmis blew dark hair out of his eyes and acted as much as he could convey .. that he was not taking any of this at all seriously. Never let them get to you, that what Ryn had used to say. Stars, he wished that Ryndir was here now.


*** VERY BRIEF FLASHBACK****

The words had knocked him to silence, stunned, and Unalmis could not even look for Trevadir’s reaction beside him. Of course it could not be true, it did not even make sense. But it was so unexpected, like a blow to the ear to knock him right off balance.

His mother .. Trev’s father .. no .. they could not have run off together ! The former had happened at least three years before the latter, for starters. Still .. the thought that had gone into it, the very fact that Rip would even mention .. that ..

“If that were so, then that would make them brothers, ..” Ryndir rallied, squaring up to the other boy. And slowly Unalmis and Trevadir met each other’s eyes behind their older, smarter, friend, and grasped the far more welcome notion.

“Yeh” they both managed, not exactly in unison, but close enough to support the leader of their group. How clever Ryndir was ! That had shut Rip up ! That had .. *

***FLASHBACK FADES OUT***



Stars, how he wished Ryn was here.

As the Gate Guard wound out his line about there being some fine, or outstanding warrant, Cadil vocally refused to believe any of it. Unalmis had to take a moment to be sure. If there were posters .. surely by now they must be out of date. Well probably. The incident with the dog was the latest but Beren had sworn that he would take care of that. So .. maybe, … Nal could have believed that the guards would not want him skipping town, in case there was any truth to the charges of stealing that cruel man’s dog. But they had stopped the varmint from trying to drown the poor animal ! And just because he'd had the audacity to accuse them of trying to steal the dog ! Ridiculous. There had been no talk of a fine though. They were due in court to hear the outcome of whose tale would be believed … as soon as Beren got back.

The realisation struck as hard as a well aimed stone. The City Guard had not stopped Beren leaving town !! So there could definitely not be cause ..


“Don’t even give him a penny,” Unalmis joined Cadil in disgust at the Guard’s claim. “What sort of a fine would you have to pay just for being with me ?” he reassured his friend, ignoring the smarm which Ric was flashing at them. As though his stupid badge would protect him. As though they would not care to cause a scene .. If Rip wanted a scene then he would have himself a scene !

“You won’t let me through because it’s against the law, unless I give you money ?” The Ranger repeated the assumption he had been handed, having flattened it’s strength with disbelief, and handed it right back. “Then you’d accuse us of trying to bribe a city official !” he made a rude noise. “Exactly how stupid do you think .. well, never mind !” he abruptly changed that line of defence before his nemesis could turn it into yet some further insult. “We are not giving you anything. So move aside and stop embarrassing yourself in front of all these people. You’re lying about the fine and the wanted posters. I bet that you can’t provide a single one to prove it.”


He was rather more betting that if Rip did in fact have any outstanding and authorised posters to back his claims, then Unalmis and Cadil could be through that gate and gone by the time the Guard located them as evidence. Then what was the infuriating Lieutenant going to do ? Chase after them, and leave the whole queue of people still waiting to pass through his post, unsupervised ? There would be a different guard on shift by the time they came back this way, and if there were any truth to the matter of the fine or the wanted posters (which was highly unlikely .. probably) .., then anyway, it could be all sorted out then, with a far more reasonable attitude than either side was willing to present at present.



**The Flashback with Ryndir which was included in this post is credited to the creative genius of Rillewen, from chat/plotting.